Finns

After a badly slept night, while checking out of the hotel (or more accurately having a room from 6am to 9 am) the receptionist handed me an address to  a Finnish restaurant. I thought it was a joke, since even I don't have that kind of luck but I decided to go and check it out.

in Thunder Bay, a small town next to a lake even I can point out from a map I found a Finnish community that dated back for decades. This was extremely weird, as was finding a Finnish food shop from there.

After I got out and took the shot, a nice man informed me I was in a handicap spot. So there, I've done that too now!

After living away from my usual grocery store for a year, certain things start to be missed. I miss my usual candy that I bought once a year and forgot to eat, I miss grilling sausages in fire and putting Turun Sinappi -a traditional mustard on them, I miss Valio, our biggest dairy product company. I miss the stupid pictures of cows in my milk cartoon. I miss karjalanpiirakka, a pie(ish) thing stuffed with porridge. I miss rye bread.

I also cleaned the shelves from candy while talking to a world war veteran about the terrors he had left behind. He told me for an hour about the life in the front line, about losing his friends, becoming a man he didn't want to be and moving away. I knew his motives too well from my own life.

Lumber industry was for a long long time a huge export industry in Finland, as big as tech is today. It was what had brought that community there as tech has now done to Seattle, and the weird culture we have had made the people stick together then, and now our insane ways to see the world sets us apart from other nationalities.

The Finnish restaurant was great. I got chopped liver stakes, a childhood favorite of mine with gravy and potato mash and since I am me I intruded a couple having their lunch to hear their story.

Yup, looks bad, is good. No different opinions accepted in this matter.

Aare Kangas had left our country in 1959. He had moved to the USA for work, and in a true Finnish manner he had chosen the place to settle because Minnesota provided the best cross country skiing places. We talked about the things we missed from back home, and after finishing the excellent lunch, he and his wife, a Finn too mind you, took me to a local Finnish bakery to get the damn rye bread that the store had ran out of.

When I asked why he was there, he told me he makes the drive often to buy bread. To anyone else this is probably insanity, 400 km one way to get something as simple as bread, but to us it is a way of life. We are too stubborn to change.

Yup, a snack before a lunch. I may have to find a gym back home.

So what does two Finns in a Canadian town talk about? Sports, cars, and motorcycles. A minor age difference fades away when Karstulan Kiva becomes a topic. I had to call my mom to ask if that indeed was a team my brother had a game against about 20 years ago, sadly I stopped listening to the answer before getting the information.

You might think it's insane to take a car and hit the road without a plan, to me it is completely normal. To Aare Kangas, driving 400 km to get the bread that tastes like memories from back home is that too.

A breakfast, an other breakfast, brunch, lunch, an other lunch, a snack, three rye breads, two dinners and a few fast miles while I honestly thought I would starve to death, I made my way to the next city (picked out from many because they had food delivery places open still). Got into a hotel, argued about parking with the gall handling the front desk, found my room. I know, the wild life! Nothing but calls to the bank and finding food happened.

Oh boy I miss home. The scenery here is so much alike.

A great name, Hungry Moose. I was so ready to have a third lunch. 

But then again, maybe not.

I'm skipping country today. Detroit is a place I've always wanted to go to and since it is close, I might as well go see it. The reputation of the place alone draws me in, but how can anyone claim they've seen what USA is about if not finding a hole in the wall pub from a city that ruined driving for decades for people around the world? Since my last trip didn't get me there, I might as well try again.

Oh, I admit. I'm using Detroit as an escape. I went and found a grocery store just now, and I can indeed confirm these strange fuckers actually do this to milk!

I don't even care to flip that photo into a better viewing angle. this is too damn freaky.

Who the hell would do that? Why?!

After this second breakfast, and maybe a quick lunch or two, perhaps an early dinner and a few snacks, I look forward explaining to the nice men in the border why I have 16 tubes of mustard in my car. Damn Finnish shop is going to make this the slowest crossing of all times.

Even I won't be able achieve this level of weird anytime soon again.

Cheers Canada, I will go Arnold on your ass, and quote the master himself:

I'll be back.

Anna