The Spirit of Vilnius, Lithuania

Perhaps my last post about the Hill of Crosses gave it away, but Lithuania is so intriguing to me. I mean, everywhere I've had the pleasure of visiting these past four months has pulled me to it for some reason or another, but some places leave lasting impressions that are more permanent than the last. The opulence of St. Petersburg, the midnight sun in Arctic Norway, the kind and welcoming yet so quiet and reserved Finns, and now the fiery spirit I've found in Lithuania.

For one thing, it seems that Vilnius, the capital, is a hidden gem of faith within this relatively secular continent. Something that struck me while walking through the city was how much I saw Christianity being practiced, both Orthodox and Catholic. At the Gate of Dawn, which is the only surviving gate from the city's original defense fortifications, there is a beautiful icon of the Virgin Mary that is said to protect the city and bless travelers. Throughout the day locals pass through the gate to pray there. If they don't go up to the chapel within the gate for a few minutes, then they bless themselves in the middle of the street and look up at Our Lady, pray, and then continue on their way.

Vilnius is said to be a city of churches, which isn't even an exaggeration! We could have spent all day going from church to church. We basically did do that, with some other things in between. And the churches there aren't just there because they were used a lot in the past or built to be decorative. Nope, a lot of them have monasteries, and they all seem to be really active in general. I think this has to do with the culture both in its religion and its adaptability to change and tye transition from the USSR to modern day. Let me explain what I'm thinking.

Just in terms of the religious culture of a country, it seems like the Soviet days have a couple of different lasting effects. In my pre-trip reading on Estonia (going to Tallinn in a few days), I noticed that the country itself is not very religious. Locals have observed that the Soviet regime almost effectively wiped out religion in everyday life even to this day of religious freedom. Lithuania, on the other hand, took back its churches eagerly. The Church of St. Phillip and St. Jacob is currently being restored to its bright red color, erasing the drab pale yellowy-orange of the Soviets. I mean what other color says, "bam we're back!" like red?

The point is that the spirit of freedom and resistance prevails in Lithuania. Reminders of the painful past are scattered throughout the city, like the KGB's torture cells right in the city center, but even greater in number are the signs of hope and resilience (perhaps I should use the Finnish word sisu) like the churches, the Old Town that is an UNESCO World Heritage Site, and the quirky self-proclaimed republic Uzupis.

There's even more about Vilnius that could be said, and much of what I actually did in Vilnius I've left out. Or the fact that I ate smoked pig ears, a popular snack paired with local beer. But the spirit of this place is special. Definitely a gem of Eastern Europe.

Exploring with my mom and Rachel

Church restoration in progress

Gate of Dawn. The chapel with the icon is inside the window, and is sort of visible

The republic of Uzupis has its own 11-man army, currency, and constitution. The national day is April 1--perhaps to emphasize "the importance of humor and non-importance of 'serious' political decisions" (Thanks Wikipedia)

A Goosebump Inspiring Lesson in Lithuanian Culture

The Hill of Crosses in Šiauliai, Lithuania, is a mysterious and beautiful place of pilgrimage in northern Lithuania, home to hundreds of thousands of crosses. After a full day in Riga, Latvia, we began our journey to reach it. It was a bit complicated to figure out how to get there, especially since we were coming from a different country and not somewhere within Lithuania. But we made it work of course. After arriving at the Šiauliai bus station, we found a taxi driver who was willing to take us there and wait for us while we visited the hill. He looked exasperated when he realized that we wanted to stay for a little while while he waited, but we agreed to pay him so that was that (the Baltics are really cheap by the way--this taxi was a bargain by my standards!).

My eyes probably looked like they were going to pop out of my head when the car pulled up to our destination. Heaped on a small hill were literally hundreds of thousands of crosses. A path of crosses lined the walkway to the main hill, where there is a large statue of Jesus with his arms outstretched and in front of that a large crucifix added by Pope John Paul II during his visit in 1993. I began my walk among the crosses, stopping to read the inscriptions on some of them and admiring the beautiful sight.

The history of this place is hard to pinpoint to this day. There are at least a couple of theories--one being historical and one being more spiritual. The first: families placed crosses on this hill where battles had taken place during rebellions against Russia in 1831 and 1863 when their loved ones were lost to the battles and bodies not found. The second one: Around 1850 or before a man of the neighboring village who was very sick promised to build a cross on the hill if he got well, and then he got well while erecting the cross. Regardless of how exactly the Hill of Crosses started, it only gained momentum as time went on. During the time of Soviet occupation, the Hill of Crosses was completely destroyed several times, the wood being burned and the metal being melted. KGB guards would even patrol during the day to prevent new crosses from popping up. Not long after every disappearance of the Hill of Crosses, the crosses would be placed again in secret and the number would keep growing. The number was said to reach 100,000 by the time of the Lithuanian Revival in 1988. Today it is customary to add a cross to the hill when visiting it.

The suffering endured by Lithuanians is impossible to imagine, and yet they acted so courageously by not giving up on adding the crosses, even when religion was forbidden and people were severely punished for it. After WWII began, Lithuania was occupied three times. Including forced emigration, Holocaust victims, and mass deportations, Lithuania lost one-third of its population. (I'm not suddenly a history wiz, I got these figures here). This place is a microcosm of Lithuania. It is a testament to the hope and courage of its people even when history was not so kind. It's a display of the Catholic identity of its people. It's a continued source of hope and solemnity to visitors from around the world.

I found myself getting chills as I thought about the stories that might be behind each cross, the resilience of the people who insisted they be here, and the reasons people keep coming back to this day. Wow.

Goodbye Vaasa

My mom and Rachel shared my last day in Vaasa with me, a beautiful sunny day. I took them to the city center where there was a cheesy market complete with a bounce house, booths selling the same cheaply made clothing, and local bakeries tempting people with their delicious smelling pastries and Finnish rye bread. We then visited the Ostrobothnia Museum, which tells the stories of this region and of the archipelago. The archipelago--the thousands of islands right off the coast of Vaasa--are really unique. The area was named an UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2006, and the land actually continues to rise almost 1 cm every year. Truly a geological anomaly in my book. Anyway, my mom and Rach helped me see this city that I've come to call home one last time. The bright blue sky contrasted the sadness in my heart to leave this place.

I had already said goodbye to my classmates a couple days before when we all met at Novia to collect our final transcripts and letters of confirmation to send to our home universities.  The day before that I hosted a farewell dinner at my apartment, so it has felt like I've been saying goodbyes all week. Squeezing 18 people into my apartment was really fun, as was feeding them!

The time I've spent in Finland has been incredible. I have learned a great deal about myself and others. I've gotten to work on an amazing project that will hopefully benefit the waste management companies in Ostrobothnia which could in turn help produce some sustainable solutions for the region. I've gotten to see amazing things that I never in a million years thought I would get to see. I am incredibly fortunate to have this experience, and it will always be a part of me.

Tomorrow my mom, Rachel, and I are leaving for our end of semester vacation. I anticipate that I'll add a couple more posts to this blog about those destinations. In the meantime though, thank you, whoever you are, for reading this. You've been a part of my journey and I hope you've enjoyed reading as much as I've enjoyed writing it!

I'll miss the sunniest city in Finland!

Farewell dinner

 "You get a strange feeling when you leave a place, like you'll not only miss the people you love, but you miss the person you are at this time and place because you'll never be this way ever again." -Azar Nafasi

Spring in Vaasa

For my second to last day in Vaasa, I am going to celebrate the spring. The city's transformation has been a drastic one, from snowy white and blue-gray mornings to vibrant colors and so much sun. I've documented the contrast in all the different parts of Vaasa I see on a daily basis--the university campus, the city center, and the coast. Call me crazy but I love them both.

Reunited in Sweden

Over the weekend Rachel and I took on Stockholm, the capital of Scandinavia. I met her at the Stockholm Arlanda airport, me flying just an hour from Vaasa and her flying all the way from Dallas. It was a lovely weekend full of art, bad luck (that we laughed at, I'll get to that), cardamon, and exploring. With the Stockholm card in hands, which gained us entry into almost every museum and free public transportation, we wandered around the unique districts in Stockholm, and soaked up all the exciting city had to offer.

Our first day we explored Gamla Stan, where Stockholm was first built after its founding in 1252. A hundred shades of gold accented by pink flowered trees and bright green overhanging vines. We wound through the cobblestone streets, peeking at Swedish design boutiques, tacky souvenir shops, and endless cafes boasting of the best fika in Stockholm. And then some bad luck struck. Basically, you won't notice if your shoe picks up a piece of garbage when you're already stepping on imperfect cobblestones. A plastic tie--maybe it had a 10 in. circumference?--got picked up by one of my feet, and it was probably just within the next step that my other foot found its way in also. I fell to my doom in the middle of a Stockholm street, first landing on my knee caps and then flat on my face. A few nice Swedes made sure I was ok, but I said thank you and scurried away to save my pride. I only lasted a few steps, though, before I realized that both of knees were swollen and in a lot of pain. That must have been quite the scene, especially with Rachel standing there laughing at the event (no offense taken). I hobbled back to the hotel led by Rachel and spent the rest of the evening icing both of my knees.

The next day we were determined to make up for lost time, so we took a bus to Djurgården, a green and cheery island in Stockholm that is chock full of museums. We visited five that day--the Vasamuseet, ABBA: The Museum, Nordiska Museet, Spritmuseum, and Fotografiska. They were all wonderful, each one offering something so different than the last. From a shipwreck salvaged from the 1600s, to controversial emotive photography, to the Sami people, to alcohol in Sweden, to the Swedish Music Hall of Fame, we saw a little bit of everything! Plus with walks through bright spring greenery and lunch and an ice cream cone in between, it was a great day. We topped it off by visiting a couple of bars in Sodermalm, known as the hipster district of Stockholm.

I got to see Rachel, I got to use the Swedish I've learned this semester, anf @I got to experience a little bit of the country from where half of my heritage originates...a successful weekend indeed! 

Project Complete!

Ninety-four pages.
Forty-five minutes.
My entire semester boiled down to a 94 page report and a 45 minute presentation. The Novia University of Applied Sciences European Project Semester has officially come to close.

I've learned a lot about renewable energy and its potential in our world, how to both be a member of and manage a multidisciplinary, multicultural team, and how to overcome obstacles and frustrations in a project. The work has had its fun and its challenges, and I honestly think that I will come out a better engineer thanks to this semester.

For information about my project, feel free to ask me and/or check out the project website: http://epsbiomap.wix.com/2015-eps-biomap

The end of the project means my time in Finland is almost finished. This is my last week in Vaasa, which Rachel and my mom will get to share with me before we embark on a summer adventure before I head back to the US. But instead of reflecting too much on the impending ending just yet, I am going to celebrate the beginning of summer vacation and the completion of my junior year of college!

Cruising Through the Beautiful North

You know those Pinterest boards of those totally unreal looking places? Typically viewed by women sitting on their coaches wishing to magically poof themselves to these exotic corners of the world, claiming to infected with a disease called wanderlust? Last week I found myself in three places that I've seen before as subjects of these Pinterest items. Check that off the bucket list.

The Nordic countries are just so stinkin' cool. I feel incredibly fortunate to be able to experience them. And the Arctic Circle. That is just a cool part of the world, both literally and in any other connotation of the word.  Where else do you have to stop driving to let reindeer cross the road? As often as you see cattle grazing on road trips through the Midwest, you see herds of reindeer floating on the snow with their big hooves and munch on grass. I just love it.

Ok, enough gushing about that.

The first part of our Norwegian road trip took us to Nordkapp. After 17 hours on the road, we made it to Honningsvåg, Norway's northernmost city. We settled into a hostel for the night, exhausted after spending so long in the car but exhilarated with the thought of our location on the world map and the adventures to come. Here we realized that the sky wasn't going to get dark for our entire trip. We closed the curtains, got some sleep, and got ready to experience the beautiful north.

The next day we hiked to Knivskjellodden, which is the northernmost point of continental Europe, sitting at 71° 11′ 08″ N. Being May 1, it was still very much early season. At least half of the hike was through snow, and we had first tracks on it! It was like the portion of hiking a mountain that I like to call the never-ending meadow, only the snowy equivalent. Then suddenly the rolling white fields opened up to the sea, and after a traverse across a rocky sideslope, we made it to the summit log. I was standing at the top of Europe!

The next destination on our road trip was the Lyngen Alps. After some driving, a couple of ferries, and a lovely night camping by the side of the road ("lovely" and "by the side of the road" don't sound like they belong together, but trust me, it was Norway), we arrived in Lyngseidet, the main village in the area. We hiked a little ways up a mountain alongside backcountry skiers who were taking advantage of everything life above the Arctic Circle has to offer. We joined a nice French couple in a skihytta, a simple hut for outdoor enthusiasts to sleep during their pursuits. We packed all 11 of us in the structure, and slept in rows on the floor. It was quite a spectacle, I'm sure, for the old man who barreled into the hut to warm up while we were all still sleeping.

After a stop in Tromsø, we continued to the Lofoten Islands. We found a cheap fishermen's cabin in Kabelvåg on the island of Austvågøya, deeming it a good home base for island explorations and day hikes. Lofoten was truly remarkable. Everywhere I looked was a landscape that can only be likened to a very complex individual, fusing so many completely different things into one perfect thing. With every glance and from every new angle there was something new to notice, and I found myself gawking every time I rose just a couple hundred feet on a hike. A sunny island getaway, an Arctic wonder, an outdoor enthusiast's playground, a fishermen's dream. Lofoten had it all.

Because of it's position on the globe, and the fact that it's May, it didn't get dark for the entire duration of our trip. We cashed in on that in Lofoten. Our first night there we began a hike up a mountain at 8pm. We watched from the summit as the sunset turned the clouds pink, and then we began our descent knowing that there would always be enough light to get down comfortably. We joked about our timetable, saying that we needed to hurry and get down before dark--we only had until September! All of us woke up at least once in the middle of the night, swearing that it must be morning by now, but the constant light was such a cool experience while we were outside.

Basically, northern Norway is unreal. It is gorgeous. Sitting on my couch looking at the pictures I took beats dreaming about it on Pinterest any day.

And Who Said Road Trips were an American Thing?

I've always had this idea that road trips were mainly American undertakings. Especially among Midwestern American families and college students. Regardless of my previous associations, a group of international students in Vaasa and I are possibly defining the great Scandinavian road trip. What began as a meeting a month or so ago to plan a trip to Swedish Lapland turned into an epic itinerary to visit some of the most beautiful and most Northern parts of Scandanavia. Ironically, we're not actually visiting Swedish Lapland on this trip. But we are visiting North Cape, the Lygen Alps, and the Lofoten Islands, all in Norway. According to the pictures that occasionally circulate on Pinterest, these are drool-worthy sights that I'm confident will be worth the car time required.

See you in a little over a week, Vaasa!

The recipe for the great Scandinavian road trip:

11 international students

2 cars

5 or so planning meetings and shopping trips

6 different tasks divided amongst the group

Not a lot of euros

1 big appetite for adventure

What a Weekend in Oslo Entails

As I sat with Niels, my Belgian friend from EPS, and Zach and Thomas, both friends from SDSMT, on the train in Oslo Saturday night back to the student village, we recapped what we had done that weekend to make sure that Niels and I had seen all of the must-sees in Oslo. My version of that list turned out to be rather quirky, and I decided it was worth sharing. Don't get any weird ideas about Oslo--it is a truly a wonderful city that I loved visiting, especially since I got to see good friends from home. But anyway, here's my list of what a weekend in Oslo might entail.

 What a Weekend in Oslo Entails
Note: Items appear in no order; this list is not exhaustive

• Go to the store Moods of Norway just to see the famous pink tractor and gawk at all the price tags.
• Eat a meal made up almost entirely of products made by TINE, the dairy monopoly.
• Walk around the Vigeland Park make attempts to interpret some of the 200-some sculptures, especially the 14 meter tall monolith that is essentially a pile of bodies. Appreciate the art and beautiful landscaping nonetheless.
• Watch 18 year olds scamper through the train stations toting their shopping bags full of beer for russ, a ridiculous event in which teenagers indulge in binge drinking and wilderness sex to celebrate finishing 13 years of school.
• Eat brown cheese and jam for breakfast and imagine yourself as a Norwegian eating copious amounts of the stuff.
• Approach the fake swan in the river that is actually a penis from just the right angle so you actually think it's a swan at first.
• Eat pie at the Mathallen.
• Laugh at the fact that you just spent as much money on dinner as you did on your round trip flight from Helsinki. And decide it was worth every euro.
• Not only see the anarchy building, but go inside the anarchy building, a feat which almost no EPS Oslo students have accomplished.
• Order an 8 euro beer and shrug because it's Norway.
• Make a point to use to the bathrooms at the opera house because they are both free and insanely nice.
• Never wait for a train. It's not koselig to wait for trains.
• Speaking of which, hear all about the word koselig from your friends' Norwegian friend and then search out every possible scenario that can be described by that word. That used book sale in the library? So koselig.
• Take the train all the way up the hill to see the world's only steel ski jump. Think it's cool even though the fog and rain are inhibiting the view.
• Hear about the ridiculous nuances of the Norwegian language, like how nobody actually speaks legitimate Norwegian and everyone has his or her own dialect that they think is far nicer than all the other dialects. That's what it seems like anyway.

Mathallen - Market Hall

The dinner the cost as much as my flight

The sculpture park

Street art

Some of the Sights of Saint Petersburg

Saint Petersburg is known as one of the most beautiful cities in the world, and I believe it! If I had to use one word to describe it, it would be vibrant. There's just something about the city that gets to you in a good way. I loved seeing (some of) the sights of the city, and I loved hearing their stories from our Russian guides.

Something almost as interesting as the contents of the museums and churches of St. Petersburg was how they were affected by the drastic changes in government and WWII. I think it's easy for Americans to take it for granted that fighting rarely takes place on our own soil. To hear about how a city coped with these things is quite remarkable no matter what side they were on. In St. Petersburg, almost every noteworthy building went through a lot of changes during Soviet times, again during WWII, and once again transitioning to modern day.

I'm no historian. In fact I've never been good at history. Even now I'm getting timelines and details mixed up. But there was something about being in this place that really captured me, perhaps because I got to experience a little taste of something firsthand that I've learned about from only one perspective before in school. And that's the point.

The State Hermitage Museum
This is one of the largest and most famous museums in the world. If you were to look at every item on display for one minute each, you would be in the museum for 8 years! The main building is the Winter Palace, which was the home of the Russian Empire's royal family during the winter time. It's built in baroque style and just so impressive to look at!

During WWII, some museum docents became afraid that the Germans would try to occupy the city at some point, so they decided to take preventative measures to save the collections. Almost everything was taken out of the palace, leaving behind empty frames as a sign of hope that the items would be able to return one day soon. A lot of the items were kept in the museum's basement which was also used as a bomb shelter.

People actually toured the museum despite it being almost completely void of contents. Tour guides would describe what was normally kept in the frames, and the visitors would imagine them. I suppose it was a way to boost morale during hard times.

The collection is obviously massive and I got to see works by Rembrandt, Caravaggio, Michelangelo, Da Vinci, Raphael, Matisse...basically think of a famous artist's name and there will be work with that name on it at this museum. It was very cool!

St. Isaac's Cathedral
This huge church was named after the patron saint of Peter the Great. It took 40 years to build, and the techniques were pretty advanced for the 19th century. It's the 4th tallest dome cathedral in the world, and when it was built it was the largest Orthodox church in the world.

During Soviet rule, everything religious inside was confiscated and was later turned into a museum of atheism (ironic, right?), but of course it was later rededicated as an Orthodox cathedral after the fall of the USSR. A lot of churches were destroyed or turned into things like ice rinks, warehouses, movie theaters, and warehouses. The dome is actually covered in real gold, and it was painted grey during WWII so it wouldn't be spotted during air raids.

Church of Our Savior on Spilled Blood
The oddly-named church is actually called quite a few things, but this is the name that sticks. It was built on the spot where Alexander II was assassinated, so the "spilled blood" refers to that plus Christ's passion.

 During Soviet times this church was almost torn down, but thankfully it was left standing. During WWII the space was used as a morgue and then as a vegetable warehouse, donning the nickname of Savior on Potatoes. In the 1970s restoration began on it. The restoration took so long that people joked that as soon as the scaffolding was removed, the Soviet Regime would fall. Sure enough, the scaffolding and the Soviets went down in the same year.

 

Oddly enough, this church was never a place of worship, but more of a place to commemorate Alexander II. The interior is breathtaking--completely covered in mosaics.

Catherine's Palace
The Catherine Palace is another spectacle of royal frivolity, but still just beautiful to look at. It was the summer home of the royal family, since Russians preferred to live in the countryside during the summer months.

The 70ish-room palace was all about parties, and you definitely get that feeling when you're in the dramatic dining rooms and huge gold ballroom. Most famous is the Amber Room (not pictured). The walls were covered in panels of amber mosaics. The panels were stolen when the Germans invaded during WWII, and then the room was recreated later on. They don't allow people to take pictures in that room today, and I think it's because they're superstitious about it.

This lavish buildings and its gardens are celebrated by Russians and visited by tourists because it is one of the most important pre-Soviet artifacts. Our tour guide said that even though Russians only visit it once or twice in their lives, it is very important to them because it helps them remember what Russia was like all those years ago. And after seeing the many grey Soviet-style apartments on the way from St. Petersburg to Pushkin (also called Tsar's Village) where the palace is located, it sure it a sight for sore eyes.

I Still Can't Believe I Went to St. Petersburg

I should have counted how many times I or one of my friends said, "Guys, we're in RUSSIA!"  over the past 4 days. I know I was thinking it a lot. It was quite remarkable to visit this incredibly beautiful city, something I never thought I would actually get the opportunity to do. The excitement in the air was palpable from my first afternoon there as the sun sparkled on the Neva River and spoken Russian swirled around me. I had a wonderful time, some of which I hope to document on this blog in the coming days.

The group on the first day there--all international students in Finland and Sweden

My time in Russia can be likened to the classic wooden nesting dolls that are often associated with the country. I bought a set of my own, hand-painted in brilliant blue and gold. Now I can look at my matryoshka dolls and think about the layers of my experience just like the layers of the dolls. First you have what you see on the outside, the entire appearance. The shape of the country on the map. Maybe in some past contexts, the elephant in the middle of the proverbial room of the world map. The stereotypes. Next, just beyond that in the next doll you have the artifacts. These are the things that people come to see that aren't visible from the outside but you know are there like the palaces, cathedrals, and monuments. Even the drab Soviet style buildings in the outskirts of the city. Each of these items has a history that comes to life when you see them. Then in the next layer you have the people and what they have to share. This layer is a bit harder to discover as it is hidden within these nesting dolls. The paint on this doll is just as beautiful as all of the others and maybe even a little more intricate because the small figure requires a steady hand. This is where you really get to know the place you're in because the each individual has a unique story that cannot be told by the collective. And finally, there is the last little doll at the very center. The heart of the whole thing, it is the only piece that cannot be pulled apart and distorted by twisting the pieces. This one is that lingering feeling you're left with after having a grand new experience. It takes time for it to develop just as it takes time to open all the dolls and arrange them just so. It’s a sense of understanding of what you’ve experienced and the exhilaration of how that understanding was reached. A quiet but intense feeling that you will be forever stained by this experience just as these dolls are decorated with permanent paint. Now I have these dolls and their layers to remember my short time in this country and what it taught me. What a nice feeling that is.