Now that I’ve returned, it’s time to start to wrap up this blog. I have enjoyed sharing my adventure with those who followed along. The next two posts are requirements for the travel writing program, but they also offer a valuable opportunity for me to reflect on the last four months and begin to think about the next four months and what they have in store for me.
During the week before school started, I attended a new staff meeting and an all staff meeting. I am very happy to be starting my internship at the beginning of their school year. It has helped me feel more integrated and I’ve gotten to be a part of events that I otherwise wouldn’t have been able to. I set up my schedule and which classes I’ll be working with for the term. I get to work with three different teachers for a variety of subjects:
As my time in Jyväskylä is coming to an end, I just wanted to reflect on what life is like here. First of all, Jyväskylä is a city in central Finland. With a population of 138,000, it is the largest city in the region and I think the 5th largest city in Finland (Finland only has a population of 5 million). It actually feels about the same size as Bellingham and as I’ve mentioned earlier it looks similar too, so my environment is not too different. Part of me regrets choosing to study in Finland because of this, but I’ve made so many amazing friends that I can’t really complain.
Now that we have started school, I am very much in a routine. Our schooling is really intense but I absolutely love being immersed in theatre all day.
For those who don’t know, I have been studying at the National Theatre School of Ireland: The Gaiety School of Acting. It is a conservatory style two year program, of which I am only taking the first semester.
I wake to the first few seconds of Amadou & Mariam’s Welcome to Mali, My roommate’s alarm. The first Lyrics are Africa, Africa, Africa, which is always a nice reminder in the morning. Wake up. « Where Am I? » Queue Lyrics. « Oh right, I’m in Senegal. » I lay in bed for a few moments feeling the heat of the night melt into the heat of the day. Pulling the mosquito net off my bed and tying it up I get ready for the day ahead.
Emma and I sit down and make our morning coffee (or hot coco) with powdered milk, and instant Nescafe from packets. The maid, Binta, comes in with 2 baguettes purchased at the boutique two doors over. We gingerly sip the coco and eat the bread with nutella, or sometimes jam or La Vache Qui Rit (Laughing Cow). We always find time moving faster than it should, and we dash off to school.
The walk to school takes about 15 minutes. We walk past the Police School a corner that borders a round about that is almost always at a standstill with traffic. Every taxi that passes us honks as if to say, « White girls walking in this neighborhood? They must be lost. » We avoid eye contact with the drivers, and nod off the ones who still think we need a ride.
Saying a prayer, or disregarding ones own life, we cross the road and take a shortcut through the Teachers college. « Do these guys even go to school? » Emma remarks, as we walk past the soccer players warming up in the field. There is almost always people playing there, except in the high heat of the day. Sometimes in formalized practices, sometimes just who ever wants to play.