Yes and yes. Jah ja ja. Juo ja juo.

In inadvertently semi-false responses often lies a sort of truth more interesting to defend.

That said, it's invariably more difficult to understand someone when they speak in straight-off-the-isles, rapid-speed Estonian and are at the same time pricking blood vessels and constricting various parts of your body. Mind you, this was one of the nicest tädi's at the blood donation center (and they are all ten times sweeter than any grandmother); yet easy to mistake what they say.

"Asakjask shssaass hsaahaa," is how it sounded. Often faced with this when living in a language I've been speaking for a few years, I'm used to such a sentence. I asked again (variating proficiency makes me feel like an elderly person with a malfunctioning hearing aid sometimes). Her repetition of the question was disappointingly similar.

Another part of living in another language and culture is learning to be decisive and not give away your level of perception of the surroundings. Doing so means that there often will be no disruption in the scene and allows you to pick up much more from the flow instead of the particularities of situations. I was hoping this question was a particularity, a "Does that hurt?" or "Do you want your blood sample to go to starving orphans?" and not something upon which the conversation would hinge. In most cases, you can get away with a positive/negative response, and given your 50-50 choice, you'll hit the right one and things will go on as planned. Feeling like I hadn't shot out a "no" in a while (again - surrounded by a late-middle-aged crowd with sharp things), I went with that reply.

"Really?" she asked.

"Yeah." Confidently. Decisively.

To my surprise, this launched her onto an entirely fresh burst of the conversation filled with stories, illustrations and heartfelt enthusiasm. Again - not understanding a question doesn't mean you can't answer it.

I derived after a few sentences the fact that I answered "no" to a question I would often answer "yes" to - partly out of habit, partly out of genuine attitude. Nurse Enthusiasm (not a word you use often in Estonia) asked whether I had full-out fallen in love with the country.

No point in backtracking - it's much more engaging to go with it and at least give yourself a challenge that departs from the usual pre-approved phrases and conversational swings. So I went with it.

Nurse Put-Down-Her-Pen-Now-Enthusiasm went on to tell me about her daughter who moved to the States to study, ended up marrying a Yank and lives out there now. The daughter would like to someday move back to Estonia, however her husband works for NASA and jobs of a similar caliber are rare in Estonia, not to mention the fact that most of the information he has is probably state secrets (i.e. which vending machine will often shoot out two bottles if you put in an odd number of coins). The woman likes living in the States and has no problem carrying on there, yet still yearns a bit for Eestimaa.

"Home is home," said the nurse with a nod and an extra-firm slap of a bar code sticker on one of the forms.

I'm not one-hundred-percent staunchly behind her statements and (being incoherent and indecisive) would pad it up with a heap of qualifiers, yet it wasn't enough for me to turn around and refute. 'Home' is definitely something that develops through various periods of time, that ends up choosing you as much as you choose it. I think a person can have multiple homes and, although they can have different associations and depths of connection with the person, these may all be on a comparable level.

How would this go? A 'primary' home followed by some 'secondary' ones? This seems a bit cheap; at least enough to question using the term 'home' for anything less than all-out extraordinary. Here's where that shifty yesandno comes about.. Minneapolis is, for me, home, and Estonia is home as well, though with different associations and basis for being so.

I can't say it's just language, though the Finno-Ugricness definitely has its part. This can also be taken in a wider sense, such as how I can generally envision myself a

lso living and being contentin Suomi and Sámpi. The thing is that my draw to Estonia and my ethnic identity does not at all clash with all that encompasses Minneapolis and Minnesota - it seems rather like it accentuates and enhances that identity. At the same time, Minneapolis is a massive part of my identity itself, and has its part in defining my life here and how I express being Finno-Ugric. Ehhhhh..

I just need to build a lavvu and have some source of revenue that enables me to be nomadic between the Cities and northern Europe. No problem there - just execution. The separation of an multifaceted identity and a precise location is a tricky one indeed..

Edasi, вперёд..

Sorting, and the sort.

..and now for the inglise keelne version of my thoughts. This has been coming around less quickly recently, and while oft lacking in as much depth (due to sõnastiku restraints.. mmmrrr.. vocabularic? Those involving vocabulary?), is thoroughly enjoyable and stimulating.

I've slightly mentioned before (I know, this describes about 94% of my blog content) the current issue of 'reluctance' in which I've been treading. I want to stress again, as a general disclaimer, that this is in no way a feeling of repellence from my home of the Cities. Enough other posts have cleared that out as a possibility, especially through the thick of doubt concerning my life choices a good 10 months ago. Then again 8 months ago. Not forgetting to mention the one at around 6 months, and varied moments of gradually increasing increments.

Quick break to mention an important discovery: the first Estonian beer that I've enjoyed which keeps its head! It might be the maritime climate, or the local historical claim of '700 years of slavery,' though whatever it is, the lack of emancipation given to a creamy top on õlu (beer) brewed within the territorial claims of Eesti is highly noticeable. Let it be known, that Puls Jõulu (Christmas) 'Legend' defies this law of brewed physics here! That is all.


Back into it. I've attempted (miserably) to express to others in at least three different langauges the intricacies of the 'push-pull' factors here. I've got overriding 'pulls' towards Minneapolis, and those towards Tallinn have (vaid viimasel ajal) grown over a precarious balance of slight indifference. That's the wrong word.. underlying attractions and inexplicable draws have, since my first moments here in 2006, peppered intrigue with the language, people and land. A lack of tactile definites and, moreso, confidence in myself being here hinged it in the period of back-and-forthishness which so often decorated rants throughout the spring and then on and off in the summer. One element I overlooked (and in rash times forgot) was the length of time generally and naturally taken for adjustment. If I chose to study in California for a masters, I'm sure it'd be the same or worse (I also doubt I would hold more than a transitional level of patience with living there). Overall, it's a respectable period of time that is rarely avoidable. It's fascinating, and somewhat of a trip, following up on Erinn's blog, 'Planned Movements,' accessible through the 'Dancing on Maple Leaves' located on the left side of the cabin next to other emergency exits from my blog. Erinn is a long-time close friend who recently moved to the northern neighborhood of Canada. Integration into a culture that is so strongly entrenched in maple syrup would be a bit much for me, I fear, and I'm proud of the progress she's made so far.


A similar stream of this reluctance now, I feel, comes from making it through so many of these ups and downs of doubt, and then the timing of moving to Minneapolis (I avoid saying moving 'back' because this, I also warn, is merely the next stage of the next stage, with many more of such goings and arrivals to come). Doubt is low about the spot I've strenuously carved out here for myself. This is probably better, as I will be going with a bit of assurance already precluding my return. Had I fully broken out in the fall, ties would remain, however with different forms and material of thread, with less intricacy of the binding, with musings in the place of what is now a grasp of belonging.


Here is home. Minneapolis is also home. I am part of two geographically separate rahva seltskonnaid. Different senses, different lengths and social ties, though in all it is positive and, while bittersweetly tinged, especially fulfilling.

And all reinforced by the remaining millimeter of foam (that's some metric for you) resting atop the Jõulu Legend. Swirls of this and that, only slightly comprehendable in the flit of a moment at hand. All calls for another pint close, the thoughts of blue eyes, and some quality time once more taking in The Life Aquatic. A sip for those at home, another sip for a particular architect in the making at here-home, and still two more for the ground and water and roots under all.

Edasi, вперёд..