I am a Foreigner

I am a foreigner. A stranger in a strange land. 


Tom and I have been in Finland for 10 months. We have gotten used to living in a small apartment with no air conditioning, no TV, no clothes dryer. Our refrigerator and oven are very small. Despite my attempts at learning the language, Finnish is just too difficult for me. And I miss my family and friends back home very much.

On the other hand, a small apartment means less space to take care of. We haven't really needed air conditioning yet (and it's the middle of July). We DVR programs at home via the Slingbox and watch them the next day on the laptop or iPad (remember, there's a seven-hour time difference between us and home). With just two of us, we really don't need a large refrigerator or oven, except when we have friends over. There is a community dryer in our building, something most of my other expat friends don't have in their buildings. Many Finns speak at least passable English.

We have made lots of friends here, all other expats, of course. My appreciation of other cultures has increased significantly. I am proud to say I have friends from Latvia, Russia, Romania, Germany, France, Brazil, South Africa, Switzerland, Wales, England, and Spain. And I've made wonderful new friends from the U.S., people I have bonded with in this adventure we all share.

Does that look like a private drive? I don't think so.

But I don't feel at home here. Little things make me feel more foreign than ever. The Finnish people have a saying, "jokamiehenoikeus," which loosely translates to "every man's right." That basically means the general public has the right to access all public or private land, as long as you don't disturb the natural environment. Now, you don't want to traipse through someone's yard just to pick some wild berries you see growing on the other side. You have to use common sense. But what about walking across an apartment building parking lot? I got yelled at in Finnish recently by a man who apparently did not like me walking across his parking lot. He kept yelling and pointing toward the sidewalk. Buddy, I was heading to the sidewalk, just taking the parking lot to GET to the sidewalk.


Maybe it's my imagination, but I think we get stared at a lot because we are foreigners. Actually, I don't think it's because we are foreigners, it's because we aren't long-time residents of our small town.

I don't want to give the impression that all Finns are like this -- there are countless Finns who are friendly, welcoming and eager to help. There's an older man in my apartment building who is always doing little chores outside -- pulling weeds, putting out gravel when it's icy, etc. He has this white cat that I call the official mascot. This man doesn't speak a word of English, and I only know a few words of Finnish, but we always greet each other, and he always chats away in Finnish, even though I have no clue what he's saying. And he knows I have no clue. He opens doors for me. On several occasions, he has stopped his weed-pulling to run up and open the door to the bike storage room when he sees me coming up the hill on my bike.

The employees at our favorite cafes, restaurants and stores speak good English and are extremely friendly. Thanks to a recommendation from a friend, I found a hairstylist who is nice and does a good job. I feel safe walking anywhere in Rauma. 

I feel like a foreigner when a bill comes, and I have to use Google Translate to figure out what it says. Same with instructions on the back of packages. And if you've used Google Translate before, you know that the translations aren't often literal. Some of them are quite funny. And Tom and I still aren't sure exactly what the knobs mean on our stove and washing machine.

The Finnish washing machine settings and my translation note

I feel like a foreigner when I'm looking for an ingredient at the grocery store that I can't find, or they don't have, or there are so many possibilities that I can't figure out which to choose. I can't order things from my favorite stores at home without worrying about paying duty or the items getting stuck in Customs (which has happened). I have to rely on family to send Jif peanut butter and Hidden Valley Ranch salad dressing. Some things you can get used to doing without, but you still need a few of those favorites from home or you will get really depressed. I haven't had a Diet Sun-Drop in months, which is truly amazing.

I feel like a foreigner when I realize I can be sent home against my will. Last month, I waited in line at the local police station for an hour to turn in the paperwork and 148 Euros to renew my residence visa. My current visa expires in August, and I've heard it can take months to get a new visa approved. The clock is ticking. When we came back from a trip to London a few weeks ago, the Immigration officer noticed that my visa expires in August, and he mentioned it. I told him I had applied for a renewal and was hoping it arrives before the old one expires. Because if I don't have a new visa when I go home in late September for two weeks, Finland won't let me back in the country for 90 days. That would be a problem.


I used to complain about all the foreigners moving into the United States. Everything in our country now is both in English and Spanish. But the coin has flipped, and I am the foreigner in a new country. Just like those moving to the U.S. for jobs (although the situation has changed significantly in the past two years, hasn't it?), my husband moved here for a job opportunity. I will not begrudge those who travel in search of a better life.


But I also appreciate my own country much more than I did before. We had a Fourth of July cookout last week, and one of my friends sent me an email afterward, commenting that it was so refreshing to be a part of celebrating our homeland and the freedom we enjoy while so far away.

And that's the key to living in a foreign land -- accept and adapt to the new; appreciate and acknowledge what you left. Because you will return, and your experiences will educate others who have never traveled or lived abroad.