Somewhere Else

Chapter 5: Versus (i)

Helsinki is so exotic.

I'm supposed to be the exotic one here, I know, but obviously I don't think of myself as exotic. Exotic is only another way of saying different – something you're not used to.

And Helsinki is that for me.

Coming back from Hamburg has only made it all the more obvious. Everything here is so different. I don't mean the city layout, or the architecture. Every European big city, to some extent, looks somewhat similar. And Helsinki and Hamburg have more in common than most – they're both harbour cities.

I am a harbour city kid at heart, I suppose. Big bodies of water entrance me. They make me feel at home. Which means I ought to feel as comfortable in Helsinki as I am in Hamburg.

First things first: I have to start sending out my CV again, maybe to companies within the English-speaking sector this time. And then I have to start getting better at Finnish.

Because the latter is easier than the former, I attempt it first. On Monday, after Aksel has left for work, Before heading out, I flip through my Finnish textbooks again, trying to formulate the sentences I'll need in my mind.

Rehearsing a conversation in my mind.

Then, before I can overthink myself into putting it off, I head out to the bakery down the street.

The aroma of freshly baked bread hits my nostrils the moment I step inside. I stand there for a minute and simply inhale.

It smells good. So good, I almost forget what I came here for.

The cashier is a young woman, probably in her early twenties, too. She looks at me as I walk up to the counter, and smiles without saying anything. Maybe she's unsure if I speak Finnish, or even English, at all.

I swear I was going to say it. I've even prepared the words in my head: Haluaisin ostaa leipää. I've checked and double checked. I've even asked Aksel, even though this is such a stupid thing to ask. But he had smiled at me, and that had made it worth it.

I take a deep breath. I open my mouth.

And then I chicken out.

"Hi," I say instead, in English. "I'd like to buy some bread."

"Which one?"

"Ehm..." I look at the rows of bread behind her. "The croissant? And–" I point, "That one."

She turns to look, and says a Finnish name that I don't catch. She turns back to me questioningly, and I nod, even though I have no idea what she's just said.

"This is very popular here," she says, smiling, as she packs up the bread for me.

"Oh, okay," I say, smiling back in embarrassment, my eyebrows drawing together, "I'm new here. I've only just moved to Finland a few months ago. I don't know about a lot of things yet."

"Oh?" The girl's eyes widen in interest. "What do you think of Finland, then?"

"Oh, it's beautiful," I say, waving a hand as if to encompass the whole of the country. "I've only been in Helsinki, but I really like it here. All these buildings, the relaxed pace of life... Yeah, it's really nice."

She looks pleased. "That's nice. Has it been difficult to adapt to living here?"

Oh, you have no idea.

But of course I can't say that.

I shrug and smile, "I guess I'm still in the process of getting used to how things work over here. But it's not that bad, especially since everyone speaks English here. The culture shock isn't that bad."

But I drop my gaze briefly.

When I look up again, I see her smiling at me. "You speak English very well."

I blink. Of all things... I have never expected to be praised on my English language skills in Finland.

I mean, most Finns speak English pretty well. But it's still their second language, like it is mine. We're both foreign speakers of English, but it's like I'm expected to do worse, or something.

I press my lips together, swallowing back my first, instinctive reaction. She's just being nice. She's talking to me, being friendly. It's nothing to get offended about.

"Thanks," I say.

"Where are you from?" she asks, as she busies herself with ringing up my purchase. When I don't reply for a long moment, she looks up questioningly at me.

I straighten, only then realising I've been cringing in anticipation of the often tacked-on 'China?' It's a strange feeling, expecting something that doesn't come.

I'm not sure whether to feel relieved or uncomfortable.

Do I not look Chinese enough?

"Germany," I say, after too long a pause. I peer up at her, my lips half-pursed, waiting for her reaction.

"Cool!" she exclaims, with no visible surprise on her face. "Yeah, I should have guessed. Your accent sounds a little German."

She's not surprised, but I am. "Oh," I respond. And I can't think of anything else to say.

I sound German.

I turn this thought over and over in my mind as I pay for the bread.

I may not look German... But I sound German. To this Finn, at least.

"I hope you adapt to living in Helsinki soon," she says to me in parting.

It takes a moment for me to respond. "Thanks," I say finally. I know my eyes are wider than usual, and I can't hold back the slow smile spreading across my face. "Really – thank you."

It is only when I walk out of the bakery that I realise I haven't done what I set out to do – speak in Finnish to a stranger.

Tomorrow, I tell myself, bending my head to shield my face against the wind. I clutch the bag closer to my body. The paper crinkles under my grip. I will try again tomorrow.