HD4: Helsinki and Turku, Finland

6.11.2012 This morning at 8, we boarded our ferry to Helsinki, Finland. The “ferry” was more of a small cruise liner, with multiple floors, bars, restaurants, and casinos. As I had only slept a few hours the night before and the rocking of the ship made me nauseous, I took a glance at the Baltic Sea (grey, really big, and bumpy) and found a bench by a window to curl up and catch a few winks. Before I knew it, we docked at Helsinki. I expected to go through customs and get my passport stamped, but, to my disappointment, we were not detained by any customs guards: we simply walked off the ship and into Finland. In fact, instead of being greeted by guards, we were welcomed by an icy wind and sleeting sky. Within minutes of standing outside trying to orient ourselves, my fingers and nose were painfully cold. However, I braved the cold in order to hold the map of the city where I could quickly reference it. Dragging our suitcases behind us, we hiked past the wharf, old brick warehouses, the largest Russian Orthodox cathedral in Helsinki, the royal palace that overlooks the bay, and the main shopping district. Our destination was the train station, where we would meet our Russian coordinator, Guyla, and find our tour bus. En route to the train station, we passed an H&M—one of our favorite places to shop, so we had to go in—and souvenir shops. It was nice to get out of the bitter cold. When we arrived at the train station, we struggled to find Guyla due to the lack of proper directions as to where we were meeting. Finally, we met her and she led us to the tour bus. We would be joining a Russian tour through Scandinavia; Sasha, a soft-spoken (rare), bearded (not so rare), bilingual (rare-ish) Russian (lately, they’re everywhere), who translated what he said in Russian to English, was our tour guide. He took on a bus tour of the city—again, it was a relief to get out of the unexpectedly awful Finnish weather: our first stop was the Helsinki Cathedral, which is the Finnish Evangelical Lutheran cathedral of the Diocese of Helsinki, located in the centre of Helsinki, Finland. The church was originally built from 1830-1852 as a tribute to the Grand Duke of Finland, Tsar Nicholas I of Russia. It was also known as St Nicholas' Church until the independence of Finland in 1917. Originally the church was Orthodox (cited from Wikipedia). As we only had ten minutes here, Alicia (a girl from Moscow 1) and I decided to dash through the square and up the countless intimidating stone stairs to the cathedral and take a glance inside. As the cathedral is Evangelical Lutheran, its interior was dramatically different from the cathedrals we are used to exploring: the walls were not covered in murals; there were no gilded frames, no shining icons, just pristine white pillars, wooden pews, white walls, all directing the eye to the beautiful mural of Christ on the domed ceiling. It was a beautiful, simple cathedral. Alicia and I then proceeded to dash down the stone staircase, which, in retrospect, was an incredible unintelligent idea as they were stone and it was sleeting: at one point, I slipped and literally probably almost died. God knew that I was meant for more than to die by my own stupidity (though, if you’re going to die, it might as well be in an interesting way, like slipping down the stone staircase of the Helsinki Cathedral in Finland), and I came out unscathed. Next stop was Sibelius Park. Lonely Planet’s description is thus: “At lovely Sibelius Park you'll find a steel monument to the great Finnish composer. The organ-like cluster of steel pipes is said to represent the forest. This kinetic modern sculpture was created by artist Eila Hiltunen in 1967 to honor Finland's most famous composer, Jean Sibelius. Born in 1865 in Hämeenlinna, Sibelius wrote music for the glorification of his own people and in defiance of the oppressor, Russia. His most famous composition, Finlandia, came to represent Finnish patriotism and pride. Hiltunen's innovative abstract structure was designed to blend with the natural surroundings. Appropriately for a monument to a composer, the sculpture creates its own music - the hollow stainless-steel pipes echo with the movement of the wind.” It was really quite incredible—I’ll post pictures on my blog. Next was the Temppeliaukio Church, otherwise known as the Church of the Rock, or the Rock Church. This is a Lutheran church building made mostly out of rock and a glazed wood ceiling. Exclusive of the magenta upholstery, the interior causes one to feel like they are outdoors or in a well-lit cave; it’s amazing. An elderly man played the organ and the music filled the vast, circular room with hauntingly beautiful melodies: due to the exposed rock surfaces, the church has excellent acoustics and is often used as a concert hall: over half a million people visit it annually. As this was the last stop, our bus returned to the train station and we were allowed two hours of free time to wander the city. Carrie, Alicia, Ally, Shelley, Whitney and I had been planning our next destination all day: food, wherever and however it could be attained—we hadn’t eaten since dinner the night before in Estonia. We found an indoor food court and ordered burgers and fries from a Nigerian man with dreads who called me “darling” at Hesburger, Scandinavia’s popular fast food chain. Once we were full and warmish, we wandered the main shopping street until it was time to return to the bus. My favorite thing in Helsinki was probably the sculpture; but to be completely honest, I was kind of disappointed with my experience in Helsinki. The city, while attractive, looks just like any normal large city. If it hadn’t been so miserably cold and wet, I probably would have a different opinion, though. I hoped that our next trip to Helsinki on the return journey would redeem it. By the time we were sufficiently dry and comfortable on the bus, we arrived in Turku, the old capital of Finland. Although I had heard so much about Turku from a friend who served his mission in Finland, we only had time to visit the Turku Cathedral, which is the Mother Church of the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Finland, and the country's national shrine. It was built in the 13th century; most of it is original, though it was badly damaged by a fire in 1827 that destroyed 75% of the city. It’s a gigantic, awe-inspiring building with a domed ceiling as high as the heavens and massive pillars. While many of the paintings have been refurbished, the few originals are faded almost out of existence. The ambience within the walls of this giant was solemn and overpowering; I was left speechless. Finally, we were directed back into the bus, which drove us across town. As it was after dark, my view of the city was unfortunately limited, but it only took us a few minutes before we were at the pier. Again, I was speechless as I beheld our place for the night: a monster cruise liner that glittered on the water like the Titanic. I’ve never been on a cruise liner, but I suppose the best place to have a “maiden voyage” is in Scandinavia! After we dropped off our bags in our tiny quarters (with enough room for two bunk beds, a small closet, smaller vanity, and a teeny bathroom) and cleaned up, we decided to explore the ship. We went up to the “sun” deck and braved the bitter cold to snap a rather embarrassing “jumping” picture, and then we wandered the restaurants and bars. One had a bunch of old couples rocking out to classic rock and tables full of men with European swag; another had a Polish guitarist named Jaco that sang us American classic rock and told us funny stories. Soon, I found myself drifting so we returned to our cabin to shower and sleep. In the morning, we would be in Sweden—and I would fall in love.

HD3: Tallinn, Estonia

5.11.12 This morning, my three girls and I pulled ourselves out of bed at around 10AM, got ready for the day and headed out for breakfast. Josh, our disheveled Australian friend, had highly recommended a pancake house called, Krompressor, in Old Town. We found it down a street behind the main square and walked into the empty restaurant—never a good sign. After waiting at the counter for a few minutes, a tall, blonde woman with a surly expression appeared from the back room and said one word, “Closed,” before she glared at us and disappeared. Flabbergasted, we exited the restaurant and noticed that the sign on the door claimed the restaurant opened at 11—in fifteen minutes. Although the pancakes sounded delicious, we decided to spend the next fifteen minutes wondering the nearby restaurants to see if any of them offered a better menu—and better service. Every place, actually, was friendly and welcoming to us but their menus weren’t nearly as attractive, so returned to the pancake house with the surly waitress. And my, oh, my, were those pancakes worth it! I ordered a strawberry pancake with cottage cheese and whipped cream, while Ally and Shelley each ordered apple and vanilla pancakes and Whitney ordered chocolate. Each pancake (which was really more of a thick blini—or super thick crepe) was about the size of my head and had its delicious sweet toppings folded inside. Best pancakes I’ve ever eaten. I also ordered hot chocolate, or kakao, which was half liquid and half whipped chocolate foam; both layers were fantastic. Once our tummies and our (previously sour) moods were warm and happy, we headed out to explore beautiful Vana Tallinn. Vana Tallinn is preserved to look like a medieval city, with old Tudor architecture and cobblestone streets. Vana Tallinn rests at the top of a large hill and is surrounded by an ancient stone wall with ancient stone guard towers and outlooks at all the entrances and corners. With wooden signs for all the stores and the smell of spiced almonds in the air, I felt like I had stepped into a different world. We tried some of the spiced almonds that vendors sold at various corners, ventured inside old cathedrals, perused the street markets, explored chic gift shops, and enjoyed the history of the city before venturing into the “Olde Hansa,” a world-famous restaurant that is fashioned after an old traditional 14th century tavern: the inside was made of stone and wood and the only lighting came from candles on the walls and on the tables. Murals of hunters and game and period life covered the walls and the fireplaces; the waiters and waitresses wore period clothing and all of them had deep Estonian accents; the ambience was surreal, as if we had stepped into a story book. Because it was slightly (though not overwhelmingly) expensive, we each ordered a side dish or appetizer and then shared our food with each other. We ordered boar soup, a meat salad (lettuce, tomatoes, olives, bacon, turkey, and some other kind of meat that could have been anything from poultry to elk or boar), a plate of traditional fried cheeses, and a rose pudding. Everything was unusual but strangely delicious—the rose pudding, made from real rose flavor, was as sweet as eating rose-scented lotion. It was a bizarre experience. Four rose petals decorated the pudding; our waitress explained to us that it is an Estonian superstition or belief that if you make a wish and eat a rose petal (which are edible), your wish will come true. Of course, we all had to take that chance—it was my first time eating a rose petal and it probably won’t be the last. The restrooms at the Olde Hansa were a tourist attraction of their own: the sink was a “teapot” filled with water that hung over a brass basin with a drain; I thought the arrangement was period appropriate and rather intriguing, actually; whoever designed the building thought of everything. I’m so glad we chose to eat lunch here; it was an unbelievably unique experience. After exploring the city a little longer, we hiked up a cobblestone hill to an overlook of the city. It had begun to rain and Vana Tallinn glowed in the darkness like a watercolour painting. We discovered another overlook that viewed modern Tallinn—in the darkness it looked just like any other modern city, so I can’t honestly describe it with the same eloquence as Vana Tallinn. Behind this overlook was an old stone staircase that led to a pathway that lined the base of the ancient wall. Sucking up our courage, we decided to traverse this muddy pathway. To our right, the city wall loomed above us; to our left, a manmade lake glistened in the city lights and two very dedicated football players trained on a nearby well-lit and very wet field. Finally, we found another set of stairs that led us back into the city. As we were wet and cold, we found a little coffee shop (again recommended to us by our Australian friend) and ordered hot cocoa. The coffee shop, according to Josh, was hipster and totally awesome—to me, it was just a white-walled building with an assortment of couches and chairs that resembled the type of couch or chair you would find at either Salvation Army or somebody’s front lawn with a big “FREE” sign on it. The restaurant was clean but cheap in appearance; I obviously wasn’t impressed. The cocoa wasn’t that spectacular either, though it was warm. It became time to meet Carrie, our friend from the International Branch that tagged along with us ILP people, at the Maharaja Indian Cuisine restaurant in the main square. The restaurant had a traditional Indian atmosphere, which we appreciated, and the food was amazing. We ordered naan, a vegetable dish, and a chicken dish with a bowl of rice to share. It wasn’t as tasty as the Taj Mahal in Fort Wayne, Indiana, or as tasty as the dishes I make at home, but it was still a familiar, delicious, satisfying taste. It was fun to get to know Carrie better; she’s such a fun, sweet, hilarious person. She volunteered with ILP in Saint Petersburg over ten years ago, served her mission in Russia, and is now teaching English in Moscow; she speaks nearly fluent Russian and she was a huge help as our translator on the train and in Saint Petersburg. After dinner, with stomachs ready to burst from all the food we’d eaten that day, we headed back to our hostel and crashed for the night. (In retrospect, I will always look back at Tallinn and remember how absolutely delicious and incredible the food was. It was probably the greatest “food day” of my entire life.)

HD2: Saint Petersburg - The Hermitage

4.11.12: My girls and I decided to do our own thing around town today. Our main goal for the day was to visit the Hermitage, the world-famous museum. En route, we stopped at a little restaurant for lunch/breakfast/elevensies. We had heard that these pitas with meat inside were delicious and they were inexpensive as well—we weren’t disappointed, especially when we looked at the menu and realized just what we were eating: shawarma! Iron Man’s favorite food, the food that all the Avengers eat in the last clip of the movie. I really wished I had been wearing my Captain America t-shirt. Shawarma is delicious—I truly trust Iron Man’s taste now. When we arrived at the Hermitage, we discovered huge lines into the entrance. However, Whitney discovered that if you were a Russian citizen or a student you could get a discount that could only be redeemed at the ticket office at the front of the lines; otherwise, you could buy tickets at an electronic kiosk at a regular price and skip the lines. Originally, I had heard that tickets would be around $20 if not more, but in reality the regular priced tickets at the kiosk were only 400 rubles, or around $12. As we only had a few more hours in Saint Petersburg before our bus left for Estonia, we felt this price was reasonable if it allowed us to skip the lines. The Hermitage is one of the largest art museums in the world and includes original artwork from the greats: Monet, Van Gogh, Renoir, and Da Vinci, among others. Sections of the museum are the preserved living quarters of the Romanov family. These are vast halls with intricate carvings, gilded framework, and breathtaking murals and tapestries. The Armorial Hall, one of the grand ballrooms, boasted a several chandeliers, gold pillars, mirrors, and golden sculptures. It was if the Romanovs designed their palace to rival those in heaven. The main entrance boasts two grand staircases, red carpet, gilded framework, and massive sculptures. I tried to imagine myself in a beautiful ball gown and glass slippers as I descended the stair case; what a life of glamour the Romanovs must have lived—before they died gruesome deaths, of course. We only had about two hours within the walls of the Winter Palace, but one could easily spend a full day inside and still not see everything (even if they didn’t get lost, like we did, as the maps were confusing). It is easily the most gorgeous museum I’ve ever been in. I hope to go back someday. Outside the Hermitage, period-esque horse-drawn carriages waited for passengers in the vast Palace Square. I could only imagine what it must have been like to arrive in one to a royal ball or celebration. When we returned to the hostel, we learned that no one else had chosen to visit the Hermitage. We were aghast—who goes to Saint Petersburg and chooses not to visit the Hermitage? In fact, they had all simply bummed it around the city all day, without really seeing anything. I’m so grateful that my girls are my girls—they want to have the richest experience possible and I’m so glad of that. I am in love with Saint Petersburg; I hope to return someday and have more time to explore and appreciate the city’s beauty and rich history. Once we were reunited with the other group, we grabbed our bags and maneuvered the streets until we found our bus that would take us to the Russian border, and then to Tallinn, Estonia. At the border, we collected all our belongings and filed into a plain, boxy building and waited in line to go through customs. I gave the officially-garbed woman my passport, visa, migration card, and registration with Moscow State University and waited while she scanned it all, stamped my passport, tore off part of my visa, and handed it back to me. It’s so nice being legal, and for whatever reason it seems easier for foreigners to leave the country than natives. It’s almost impossible for the common Russian to get a visa to leave the country, for fear the native might be immigrating to another country. I’ve never run into problems trying to get in or out of the country, however. We boarded the bus once again only to drive a short distance before arriving at the Estonian border. This time, a young, uniformed officer boarded our bus and took our passports. When I politely asked if he needed my visa, he glared at me and barked, “No.” He was perhaps not the best introduction to Estonians, but then again I’m sure gruffness is in his job description. I don’t like anyone else having my passport in their possession, especially when I’m in limbo between Russia and Europe, so I said I silent prayer that everything would work out for everyone on the bus. Finally, my passport was returned to me (without an Estonian stamp—poop!) and we continued our journey. A few hours later, we arrived in Tallinn. I had directions to our hostel, but no one in the group (for whatever reason) was listening to me or didn’t quite grasp the idea that I knew what I was doing, until we took the wrong bus and got lost in downtown Tallinn at midnight. Eventually, we found a familiar landmark: the Viru Hotel, which was supposedly at the entrance of Vana Tallinn, or Old Town Tallinn, which was close to our hostel. As we walked past Vana Tallinn, we were greeted by quaint cafes, ancient tower walls, and romantically lit streets. My mood instantly lifted at the prospect of exploring this area when the sun rose in the morning. Finally, we found our hostel: The Monk’s Bunk, which is conveniently located in an alley behind the Swed Bank and next door to SexMax: Erotikkapood (Estonian for erotic shop). Hopefully, we wouldn’t have to judge a book by its cover. Fortunately, the hostel itself was extremely pleasant with a welcoming atmosphere. Josh, the Australian receptionist at the time, who, despite his curly afro, lopsided buttoned shirt, and pajama pants, was very polite, helpful, and funny; he even lent me a towel without charge because I didn’t have any cash (Euros) on me. My girls and I shared a room with three bunk beds, though we had the room reserved for just us. The beds were clean and comfortable, and the bathrooms were newly updated and the cleanest I’ve seen in a hostel. We were especially pleased with and pleasantly surprised by the shower spout connected to the wall—for the first time in three months, we wouldn’t have to hold the shower spout and wash our hair at the same time. Although we were exhausted, Shelley, Whitney and I were starving so we let Ally sleep while we ventured into Vana Tallinn for some grub. We found a classy Mexican restaurant and ordered burritos; they were large and tasty, especially with the added lime juice. We shared the restaurant with a group of British men, probably from Ireland or thereabouts. For the first time it hit us—we’re in Europe! It’s almost too wonderful to believe—all my life I’ve wanted to visit Europe, and here I was, eating tacos in Estonia, listening to Red Hot Chili Peppers on the juke box, and checking out Irishmen. My life is awesome.

ry.

Holiday Day 1: Saint Petersburg

2-3.11.12: Today marked the beginning of my Europe/Scandinavia holiday. After a day of teaching, we finished packing and cleaning our apartment and then headed out at 21:30 to get to the train station by 1:10 the next morning. There, we met Moscow 1 and Carrie Patton, a woman from our International LDS branch who is teaching English in Moscow, though not with ILP. She was a volunteer with ILP about 10 years ago. We located our train and made ourselves comfortable on our thin open-compartment sleeper beds. Because my group is the perfect four, we were lucky enough to be in the same compartment. Everyone but Emily (the other Head Teacher) and I were obviously surprised with their predicament; sleeper trains definitely offer unique experiences. This train was somewhat better than the trains I took in China, so I was prepared to deal with it. I slept decently enough that night, though I awoke myself early enough to see the Russian countryside. It looks, as I’ve said before, similar to the Mid-Western States: rolling hills, farmland, pockets of trees, old buildings, etc. The most difficult part of this experience was not being able to clean up in the morning; we would have to wait until we reached our hostel in Saint Petersburg. We arrived in Saint Petersburg around 10:30 and proceeded to drag our suitcases through the freezing rain; however, even in this miserable condition, the beauty of Saint Petersburg was not lost on me: as soon as we exited the train station, we found ourselves surrounded by beautiful, architecturally imposing buildings, a monolith monument, and countless cozy restaurants. After waiting in the rain for Emily to locate a few of her girls who lagged behind and then clumsily navigating our way through the winding streets (how many girls does it take to locate a hostel in Saint Petersburg? Apparently thirteen), we finally found The Puppet Theatre Hostel. It had a plain ghetto door that opened up to a dirty stone staircase and a rickety metal lift with a sign that read: “Please no more than 3 persons, or the lift will get stuck and you will spend an unknown amount of time inside!” At least it was in English. Nevertheless, you can’t judge a book by its cover, and the hostel (on the fourth floor) was actually quite decent and clean; outdated, but acceptable, and the kind receptionist spoke functional English. My group shared a bedroom on the fourth floor with four beds, while Moscow 1 and Carrie had five-bed rooms on the fifth floor. We love Moscow 1, but sometimes it’s nice to slip away and have time to ourselves, so this worked out famously. We only had a few minutes to clean up before we were to meet Alicia French’s (a girl from Moscow 1) distantly related relatives (her uncle’s Russian wife’s cousins or something like that), who were to give us a tour around town. First, they took us to Teremok (our favourite Russian fast food chain) for lunch, as we hadn’t eaten anything since dinner the night before. As I was starving, I ordered pelmeni (Russian ravioli), a cherry blini, and a cheese and ham blini—delicious! I seriously wish Teremok would move to America. Our next stop was the Saviour on the Spilled Blood Cathedral, which was built over the spot where Alexander II was killed in battle. One of the many canals that wind through the city bordered the magnificent cathedral, making the scene even more awe-inspiring. You’ll have to Google it—it’s impossible to describe its magnificence in words. The cathedral is reminiscent of St. Basil’s cathedral in Moscow, with twisting domes, elaborate carvings, and bright colors; Spilled Blood has a green, gold, and brown color scheme. It and St. Basil’s are easily the most interesting and breathtaking buildings I’ve ever seen. It cost 250 rubles to enter the cathedral, a price that most of us were willing to pay; however, Moscow 1 has a tendency to be cheap and they felt a better use of their money would be to hold a street vendor’s monkey. I really don’t understand some of those girls. Most of the group complained about seeing so many cathedrals, but I could see a hundred more. I find cathedrals fascinating and a rich cultural experience, but maybe that’s just me. I simply don’t understand how someone could behold such an architectural masterpiece as this cathedral and conclude, “I don’t want to go inside.” I wasn’t disappointed, either. The inside was structured like most Russian Orthodox cathedrals with a main square-shaped hall supported by four massive columns, with a smaller half-circle section at the front for the priest’s room and the main icons, and a domed ceiling. Every inch of wall and ceiling was covered with colorful depictions of saints, scriptural references, and Christ. This cathedral was probably one of the most “welcoming” yet, as the colors were bright and it was well lit; some are dark and gloomy and almost spooky. I’m sure it’s kept up better than most as it’s a major tourist attraction. Unlike most cathedrals, photography was allowed inside and so I was able to commemorate the moment in pictures. As we were running out of time before the cathedrals and museums closed (at 17:00), we hurried from stop to stop: we took photos on picturesque bridges, saw monuments to Peter the Great (who founded Saint Petersburg), walked past St. Isaac’s Cathedral, the Bronze Horseman (a monument that Catherine the Great built in commemoration of Peter the Great—it was the first sculpture of a horse and rider to only have three parts touching the base—the rear legs and the tail—in Russia and it took four months to move the huge rock base to its final resting place—it was truly a big deal for Saint Petersburg), and we explored the outside of the Hermitage and Palace Square. Of course, the Hermitage (Эрмитаж) is one of the largest art galleries in the world and is built within the walls of the Winter Palace, the former residence of the infamous Romanov family. Its size rivals the LDS Conference center in Salt Lake City, and I daresay it’s a great deal more impressive looking with its pastel green exterior and white and gold trim. Giant sculptures of angels, ghouls, and other creatures guard the entire roofline. It’s not much, but it’s home! As everything was closing and we were wet and cold, Shelley, Whitney, Ally, Carrie, and I found a coffee shop right down the street from the Spilled Blood cathedral and ordered hot chocolate. It tasted like and had the consistency of chocolate pudding. Afterward, we wandered back to our hostel whilst we absorbed the beauty that is Saint Petersburg at night. The golden street and shop lights in the rain provided us with a rather romantic scene, and even the cold couldn’t dampen it. The Spilled Blood cathedral was especially beautiful at night. Part of me wished/s that I had chosen to Head Teach in Saint Petersburg—honestly, it’s a hundred times more magnificent and visually stunning than Moscow. Oh well; I probably appreciated it more because I don’t see it every day. When we found our hostel once again, we dropped off Whitney and Carrie and the three of us went out for dinner. We discovered a quaint little Italian fast food restaurant down the street called Fasta Pasta: I ordered a three cheese pasta and a small ice cream. It was absolutely yummy! There was a TV that played music videos, one of which was a Bollywood song. We thought it was funny because we were Americans eating Italian food in Russia while watching Bollywood. It’s totally normal. Once our bellies were satisfied, we returned to the hostel, showered, and crashed in our beds.