Appreciating Porvoo

On Sunday, Lukas, Simon, Niels, and I made the short bus journey from Helsinki to Porvoo (Borgå in Swedish), Finland's second-oldest town. What I expected to be a leisurely day of seeing the colored wooden houses and cobblestone streets of Old Porvoo turned into an important lesson in Finnish history, knitting together and even more clear picture of why I love this beautiful country.

Before the Finnish War of 1808, Finland was part of Sweden. As a result of the war, Sweden lost Finland to Russia, and Finland became a Grand Duchy in the Russian Empire. This was a time when Finns were not particularly feeling Swedish and not wanting to feel Russian. In the midst of an identity crisis felt by the entire country, artists like poet Johan Ludvig Runeberg and composer Jean Sibelius stepped in and helped the people of Finland feel, well, Finnish again. In return, the Finns show their gratitude to these remarkable figures by erecting monuments in their honor, telling their stories, and eating their favorite foods.

Porvoo loves Johan Ludvig Runeberg, Finland's national poet, especially. He taught and lived in Porvoo for 40 years, and after his death his home was turned into a museum. In Porvoo you can find Runeberg cakes at every cafe, whereas in the rest of Finland they are only eaten once a year to celebrate the beloved poet's birthday. After a tour of Runeberg's museum home, I couldn't help but feel proud to have learned something about this man and his impact on the Finland. Hearing the stories of the people, for me, makes the Easter-egg-colored houses look a little brighter and the Runneberg cake taste a little sweeter.

Runeberg cake

Porvoo Hostel

The Artifacts of Finnish University Culture

Would it be surprising to learn that one of the wackiest student traditions I've ever heard of was started by engineering students? After attending SDSMT for two and a half years and participating in the crazy traditions of whitewashing and beanie hats, I am honestly not surprised.

Student overalls are basically heavy canvas jumpsuits similar to what mechanics wear. Owned by almost every Finnish university student and worn at countless parties and events, they are a major symbol of student life. Each department in each university has a different color, so you can immediately tell what someone is studying when you see them in their overalls. Students cover their overalls in patches collected at different events and parties, so essentially they become a chronicle of your college memories.

They were said to have begun in Sweden in the 1970s when engineering students needed to wear them to protect their street clothes during site visits. But now, ask a student at my university how the overalls started, and they will probably shrug like it's the most pointless question to entertain.

Maybe it's because of what I do at Mines, but I love this tradition. The international student representative for Novium, the student union at my school, equipped us with these marvelous outfits right away in February. Who knew that a mint green jumpsuit could help me feel like so much a part of the student life at my new school?

My overalls

There are some rules associated with the overalls that I think are too entertaining not to share. Of course, no one knows how they originated or why they are pretty universal throughout all Finnish universities.
1. You cannot wash your overalls. The only time it is even close to permissible is if you go swimming in the Gulf on May Day wearing your overalls.
2.  Patches must be sewn on by hand by the owner.
3. If you go home with someone at an overall party, you're supposed to swap part of one of the legs. Then if you see someone with stripes of different colored overalls going down the leg then you can suspect what they have done. That rule isn't really followed though; instead couples often exchange legs.
4. Never wear your overalls all the way up unless it's really cold outside (and even then you probably won't). There's surprisingly an art to folding the sleeves around your waist to sit just right.
5. And finally, have fun! Overalls are truly an excuse to do whatever you want in Finland.

Overall party at Fontana

If the other tradition I'm about to talk about was started by engineers also that would be awesome, but I have no reason to believe that.

We Have the Energy

It sure is good to be an engineering student in the Nordic leader of energy technology.  Vaasa may only be home to about 2% of the Finnish population, but the companies here are responsible for 30% of Finland's exports in energy technology. EnergyVaasa, the nickname for the cluster of companies, turns over 4.4 billion euro every year and employs 11,000 people. I'd say that's pretty cool for a town the size of Rapid City.

Every year Vaasa holds EnergyWeek, a week-long conference for engineers, scientists, investors, and anyone who is interested in energy technology.  I was looking forward to this since before I arrived in Vaasa, expectant of the skills that this semester could teach me to enhance my ability as an upcoming engineer.

And the week did not disappoint. I got a refreshing dose of lectures on wind and solar energy management, energy efficiency of buildings, liquid natural gas networks, biogas, and the future of energy production in Europe. I came home to my apartment at the end of the week with 19 pages of notes to go through, a pile of booklets about the energy cluster and some of its companies, and a renewed desire to use my career to improve the environmental sustainability of the built environment.

I got to talk to the General Secretary of the European Biogas Association about how scary winter bike riding in the Nordic countries can be, I heard a speech from the Ministry of the Environment, I heard how Scotland is using Finland's influence to improve their journey to carbon neutrality. I heard about the next big city planning project for Vaasa and how the engineers are planning to incorporate up-and-coming energy technologies to make the massive building project more environmentally friendly. It was just a really cool week.

And who knows? Maybe one day I'll get the chance to attend it again during my own career.

A Green Sky for St. Patrick's Day: the Enigmatic Aurora

My St. Patrick's day began like any day might--I had lectures for the Energy Week conference in the morning, a lecture in the afternoon at Åbo Akademi, did some work on my EPS project, cooked myself dinner. Then I put on my 3-euro thrift store green dress and rode my bike to my friend's apartment for a St. Patty's day pre-party. Little did I know that the sky would be taking part in the holiday's festivities.

A few hours into the party, my phone buzzed. The text message from my classmate read that he could see Northern Lights. Thrown into a bit of a frenzy at the prospect of seeing the elusive aurora, I interrupted the party and led everyone outside. Faint grey wisps snaked through the dark sky above, teasing us until we could get away from the city lights.

From Brändö, we followed the darkness in the distance, to the sea. We came upon an abandoned industrial area and an old dock. We jumped over a barbed wire fence--exercising everyman's right, we decided. I ripped my tights and got my gloves covered in tree sap. Chasing darkness to chase the light.

The sky teased us all the meanwhile, beckoning us into a wide-open dark space we could not seem to find. We turned back and headed to a small island reachable by foot. As we approached, the lights got brighter and brighter, this time as if inviting us to stand on perhaps the most beautiful square foot of earth and look up.

I let out a squeal. Before me was the sea and above me was pure magic. Ribbons and curtains of green and purple danced before my eyes, more graceful than anything I had ever seen. The beauty of it was hardly conceivable, and I felt my eyes fill with tears. The dance covered the expanse of the sky. I stood there for hours, surrounded by friends from all over the world. It was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

While I was walking to the island to get a better view, I saw so many people going about their normal evenings, seemingly oblivious to the the enigma that was taking place right there above their heads. How many times have I continued along in my normal routine, completely inattentive to something remarkable going on right in front of me? They say the earth has music for those who listen. The sky has a dance for those who watch.

A big thank you to my friend Lukas for taking the wonderful photos on the group's behalf.

Life Lessons from a Biogas Plant

Today my EPS project team traveled to Nykarleby, a town 50 km northeast of Vaasa, to see one of the region's biogas plants. This one, Jeppo Biogas, produces biogas from pig slurry, waste from a potato factory, and nearby agricultural waste. Half of their gas is upgraded into biomethane and sold to Mirka, a company that specializes in dust-free sanding products. The other half is used as-is to provide heat for the plant and a nearby meat producer. I would continue with some more nerdy ramblings, but I'll spare you.

Some background information to explain my sudden interest in this particular green energy. My EPS project aims to map the available substrates for biogas production in the Ostrobothnia region of Finland and investigate the technologies available for upgrading biogas to biomethane. We are hoping to create a link between biogas research at the university and local industry.

My project team in front of the anaerobic digesters - Olivier (France), Cindy (China), Delali (Togo), me, & Massimo (Italy)

Today's visit was beneficial for me in a lot of ways. First, it's always nice to see firsthand something you've been researching. Everything I've read was reinforced or elaborated at the plant, which really helped my learning. Plus the engineering behind everything is just so cool.

Second, it's great to see more of Finland than just Vaasa and in more ways than just as a tourist. I love discovering this country in every way I can, with every sense and in every perspective.

And finally, anaerobic digestion can teach an important life lesson.

Um, Gina, what are you talking about?

You see, the methanogenic bacteria that decompose the substrates are very simple creatures in more than just anatomy (or lack thereof?). They want the same routine, or more realistically they want to eat the same thing every day. It helps them succeed and produce the most biogas.

The engineer who guided us through the plant used to work at a major international power company. Now, at Jeppo, he is one of only four people who keep the plant operating. He has seen what it's like to go from performing one specialized task in a huge corporation to being a do-everything engineer at small company. "Change companies at least once in your career if you can," he advised us.

This sparked an interesting discussion about how oftentimes we are just like the bacteria (stay with me, people). We want to continue doing the same things we've always done because it's comfortable and those are the things we know how to do.

When a new material is introduced into an anaerobic digester, biogas production often decreases because the bacteria really does like eating the same thing every day. There's sort of a curve, or at least I imagine it this way, that the bacteria has to get over before  production can stabilize and increase. But once it gets over this imaginary curve, production really can increase because a mixture of proteins, fats, and carbohydrates is needed for lucrative biogas production.

So even when we want to be like this bacteria and refuse to welcome change, we need to remember that change is good for us. It will help us be more lucrative, whether that's in our careers, relationships, or outlook on life.

I came to Nykarleby expecting an engineering lesson and instead I got a life lesson.

Discussing with one of the engineers over coffee

My Favorite Finnish Word

During my pre-Finland research, I stumbled upon a word in Finnish that really struck me. Not because of its length or because of the dots we don't use in English over some of the vowels, but because of the meaning it evokes.

Sisu.

Untranslatable, this word describes that enigmatic power that allows someone to overcome extreme obstacles. It's not an emotion or a quality, but more of something in the heart. It speaks to a person's integrity, persistence, and bravery. The closest thing I can think of in English is grit or tenacity, but I think it even goes deeper than it. This word is just like the entire country of Finland--the more I discover it, the more I love it. It's just part of the Finnish spirit that is very beautiful. 

Sisu's roots may be in the history of Finland, and I think the Winter War between Finland and Russia is what put the term on the map so to speak--Finland persevered when the odds were against them and a peace treaty was signed shortly thereafter. The word itself, though, dates back hundreds of years.

It implies that there is more to people than what meets the eye. Since it goes much deeper than a personality trait, it is something than can be practiced and cultivated within a person.

And that's exactly what's happening tomorrow (10 March). There's a movement in Finland and beyond to spread sisu throughout the world in attempts to elevate the strength that lies within all people. The idea is that tomorrow from 3 to 4 pm local time you are encouraged to do one scary or new thing that you know will benefit you.

Up for the challenge? Check out the facebook event here

And check out this TEDx talk from Emilia Lahti, a Finnish woman who is doing her PhD research on sisu.