An American Goes to Finland:
A Personal Account in the Happiest Country in the World
A friend asked me to join her on a trip to Finland. She was itching to leave the country and had reached out to an acquaintance in Helsinki, Finland who offered to give us a place to stay at the end of November, 2023.
On a whim, I agreed to join her without much thought to the fact that I was headed to the arctic in winter. I did, however, run to my nearest Target store to buy a $42 long winter coat that covered my butt and thighs. One may call this mistake number one as I am now certain the quality required in Scandinavian countries far exceeds Target’s offerings.
I embarked on the trip in the best way possible - with zero expectations! I hadn’t been out of the country in 19 years since my honeymoon to Mexico, which, let’s face it, doesn’t count as culturally enriching when you stay on an Americanized resort. My friend, a seasoned international traveler, gave me the low-down on not looking passersby in the eye and other societal differences that I needed to know.
When I arrived in Helsinki, I immediately started to pick up on the energetic variances between America and Finland. The energy felt unique and grounded. I set out to investigate why Finland felt so different.
Everyone seemed to keep to themselves and give plenty of distance between one another. Just as my friend warned me, no one looked up to meet my eyes. They also did not hold a door open for one another. Not on purpose, anyway. At first, I thought, how rude!
When I held the door open as a gesture of good graces upon my arrival, a seemingly endless line of people walked right past me without a “thank you.” I could have stood there all day holding the door open without one person thinking to relieve me or even smile in my direction. In fact, everyone kept a fairly straight, emotionless expression on their face at all times. I’d gotten the impression they thought that if I had nothing better to do than to stand here holding the door open for strangers, that’s my problem. Not theirs!
We took the train to downtown Helsinki from the airport. Our train rumbled past the snow packed landscape speckled with trees, cottages, and apartment complexes. The gray skies emitted the smell of cold, and not just any cold - a cold that lives there and has a permanent mailing address. I left a moderate climate to vacation near the arctic - what in the hell was I thinking?!?
Astonishingly, in all the tram and train rides taken over my week-long stay in Finland, I could count on one hand the number of people that occupied their time with a smartphone. I noticed the absence of this social norm immediately. People simply stayed present with only their emotionless facial expressions and the occasional book to keep them company.
We drug our bags off of the train and sloshed through the half-melted snow to meet our host at the Helsinki Central Station. With all the people, trams, and cars, the city was relatively quiet. You watched traffic come to an abrupt stop to circumvent a near accident without a sound. No horns, no shouting - or worse, the ripple of anger and frustrated energy that doesn’t need a sound as you hear it with your body through other senses. My friend pointed out this lack of road rage. How interesting, I thought. What a difference, energetically, that simple change makes in a city.
Our host lacked the blonde hair and light eyes as I observed from many locals, but rather, she took on her dad’s Russian heritage with dark eyes and unruly brown hair that didn’t match her conservative demeanor. She was tall and slender with the straight posture of a lifelong dancer. Her wide smile brought her eyes into darkened slits behind her round glasses. She wore no makeup with her naturally rosy cheeks and red lips creating an endearing quality that simply was enough.
In her early-to-mid twenties, our host lived in a new studio apartment near a major port. Her apartment resembled an oversized dorm room with tiled floors and easy-to-clean and replace fixtures. Contractor grade cabinets lined the entry with a sterile, modern-looking bathroom combination laundry room to the left. A kitchenette continued past the storage cupboards, and to the left, a twin bed, a pull out couch, and a quaint dining table overlooked the port. Books and games were tucked away neatly along with her organic chemistry and other study material. I notated the absence of a television. The lack of modern entertainment would encourage my fellow Americans to tap out of their first Finland winter day.
I learned that she received a government stipend, as did all students, of $300 a month for housing while she attended pharmaceutical school. The Finland government funded all education including post-secondary education. While higher level, professional degrees are exceptionally competitive programs and may take years to get into, it is nevertheless free to the student of any age.This revelation astounded me as I recall the stress I experienced around my college years. The first semester when I learned that my books alone would cost over $500 that I didn’t have sent me rushing to financial aid. I worked two jobs to keep myself afloat in college and finally paid off my student loans about ten years following graduation.
After settling into the small accommodations, we set out in the dark to see Helsinki with our local tour guide. Mind you, in late November and early December, Finland gets about 6 hours of daylight - not necessarily sunlight, so the sunsets around 3:30 in the afternoon.
Lit up by street lights, store fronts, and the seasonal Christmas lights, Helsinki’s hardscapes moved as thousands of people casually but purposefully navigated to their destination. We dashed into a hopping Frazer Cafe where we stood in line drooling over the mile long glass case of pastries, salads, pies, and refreshments.
The Finnish certainly know how to indulge in the sweetness of life as there seemed to be a bakery at every turn. Yet, where were all the overweight and obese people? Literally, everyone in Helsinki was at a healthy weight. This astonished me given my Midwest-American experience where being at a healthy weight puts one in the minority - even if you’re a child!
That first night, our poor host must have thought she invited a couple gremlins into her home as we Americans came with instructions. As I recall, I dictated mine as such:
”If I have gluten, I snore. I get heartburn if I eat too much dairy. My friend will snore as soon as she hits the pillow. She (my travel companion) may sound like she dies 7 times in the night, but do not worry, she won’t! I need to hit a couple acupuncture points, or by god, I’ll be constipated as all get out given all the gluten and dairy I’ve already had on this trip! That reminds me, do you have coffee? I need my coffee in the morning. You only have tea? Oofta! Ok, we can hit a coffee shop at some point in the morning, so I don’t get a headache later. I’m itching like crazy from an allergic reaction I had before I left the States so don’t mind me itching my legs until they bleed. Also, I have Raynaud's Syndrome and lose circulation in my extremities when I’m cold, so what’s the temperature supposed to be tomorrow?”
Our host was healthy and everyone around her reflected the same balanced state. My friend was not much older than her and also came with side effects. I could at least claim my age as a factor given that I was nearly 20 years her senior, but something told me that age wasn’t a legitimate excuse in Finland.
The next morning, her demeanor and complete exhaustion wore on her face - the look of a person kept awake by two snoring Americans, but she politely and unconvincingly lied when we asked how she slept. She busied herself making us a local herbal berry tea and served a traditional Finnish breakfast with plenty of dairy, rye, vegetables, and fruit. All I could think was that I guess I’ll poop in 7 days when I get back home.
As my friend showered for the morning, I tested just how good I was at small talk when I found myself alone with our host. We finally fell into useful conversation when she started to explain Finnish culture to me. She seemed to do this out of necessity from uncomfortably watching me interact with her people the previous day. She pointed out that Finnish people do not say “thank you” as much as Americans as it’s seen as fake nice, disingenuous, which also translated to not holding the door open for others.
Once again, I paused. I reflected on this new information. The Midwestern way of the United States largely centers around an overly nice culture much like the infamous “southern hospitality.” By this, I mean overly nice in the obvious ways, like waving and smiling, holding doors open for people, saying please and thank you at every opportunity. I realized that we do this not out of the kindness of our hearts but because we want others to think of us as good - even people we do not know! We hold the door open for strangers and excessively gesture towards people we may secretly despise in hopes that they believe us worthy of love, respect, or another honorable trait. In short, we believe our individual worthiness lies outside of ourselves in the form of others' judgment of us. It’s a form of people pleasing we culturalized, which keeps us stuck in duality and tied to fear. That, I felt, adds to the stress Americans unknowingly carry in their energy fields.
The Finns embody kindness and virtue. They do not need to prove it. Meanwhile, over 8,000 KM away, Americans spend all their energy trying to prove their worthiness versus simply being in the energy of a kind and virtuous human.
That morning, we hit the snowy road for what ended up being an exceptionally cold day even for Finland. I immediately lost feeling and blood flow in my hands and feet. I walked with my shoulders rolled up tightly while clenching every muscle in response to the cold. Our host walked with her back straight, shoulders down, and completely and utterly relaxed. I looked around to see everyone walking with the same ease. I tried to mimic their nature in hopes of allowing my energy to flow and, hence, blood to flow. Maybe that was the key?
Harsh, prolonged weather unphased the natives. All over the city, people walked, ran, and rode bikes despite the bitter cold. Movement and nature - rain, snow, shine, dark, or light - was clearly part of their lifestyle.
Nearly all Finland residents relied solely on walking, biking, or public transportation, and at most, a household may own one car. I was suddenly embarrassed to report our 5 person household had 5 vehicles, a boat, and an ATV. We don’t restore old homes. We tear down and build new - bigger is better and more is better in America. We build bigger homes and rent storage units to fit all of our excess.
I was starting to get the impression that Finland’s motto is “restraint and moderation is better.” I was also starting to understand how everyone looked physically fit given the sheer amount of movement one did without the luxury of a personal vehicle to help you across town.
I wanted to run from destination to destination in an attempt to save my now purple fingers, but my travel companion struggled walking with any sense of speed. Her hips and legs unbearably cramped and spasmed when she attempted to keep up with my preferred pace. Unlike myself, she seemed to epitomize the polar bear spirit animal and generate enough heat to sustain her through the -9℃ temps. Again, our physical ailments and limitations perplexed our nimble host.
As we played tug of war with our polarizing speed, our young guide pointed out buildings and businesses of note and continued to explain her culture. Small neighborhood pharmacies tucked in row buildings were a far cry from the monstrous Walgreens corner buildings and the like back home. She explained that Finnish students and citizens are shown videos of America to warn the Finns of the dangers of drug abuse, in particular, pharmaceutical drug abuse.
In Finland, pharmaceutical companies cannot advertise to the public using mainstream media. We continued to compare notes regarding the differences in health care experiences in each country. She went on to explain that the government funds nearly all healthcare costs.
“Well, this must mean that your federal income taxes leave you with very little money at the end of the day, right?” I inquired. She illustrated the tier of taxes imparted on the public to fund all the social programs. I related how much we spend on health insurance and our maximum out-of-pocket expenses incurred as well as our tax bracket. She let out a sigh and exclaimed that she cannot imagine the stress of living with a fear of something bad happening and the financial burden of the cost of one’s health.
Once again, I felt a perspective shift with her declaration. Throughout my life, I’ve personally witnessed the financial ruin that occurs during a health care crisis. My family, as I was growing up, experienced a number of financial setbacks as a result of accidents, cancer, and other injuries, but the straw that nearly broke the camel’s back came when my sister was diagnosed with a mental illness. In the 1990’s and into the 2000’s, mental illness was not covered by insurance, so not only were my parents paying premiums and deductibles but an overwhelming amount of unqualifying expenses.
When I married my husband and simultaneously started adulting full time, we learned that my husband had cancer, and I was pregnant, which resulted in a c-section. I thought the medical bills would never quit finding our mailbox, and it felt as though it took years to climb and slide our way up and out of that mountain of medical bills.
Her statement shined a light on the fear many Americans carry on their shoulders - a fear of financial ruin by way of medical costs. I imagined what it must feel like to know that those needs were always met.
Profound.
I felt lighter and my shoulders relaxed just a little bit more.
Our tour took us on and off the tram enough times to grasp the ins and outs of their widely used and ultra safe public transportation system. We learned that children begin using the tram alone by the age of six. The public seemed to fear nothing - not the cold, not each other, not the unknown.
Another puzzle piece slipped into place.
I recall seeing one mentally unstable man, but I never saw drug use or anyone obviously high or otherwise intoxicated throughout my week in Finland. At one point, we shared the tram with an unaccompanied child, and that singular mentally unstable man stepped onto the tram. I could feel a subtle shift as our fellow passengers adjusted their energy to protect and look after the lone child. No one looked uncomfortable, but clearly, everyone on the tram silently took responsibility for that child’s safety.
All for one and one for all - another motto of their culture.
Here we are - trying to look cool while frozen outside Cafe Regatta, a cute coffee shack along the water in Helsinki, Finland.
When I finally received the coffee to satisfy my addiction, it not only tasted superb based on the delay, but the quality far exceeded my expectations. However, the serving size underwhelmed me. No one walked away with a venti-sized, 20 oz coffee. Once again, the balance and moderation of every aspect of their lifestyle as compared to America glared in my face.
Their simplicity spanned from the Scandinavian, minimalist decor to their wardrobe. A common outfit consisted of black boots, black pants, black shirt, black coat, black gloves, and a - get this - a black stocking cap. They even seem to take the stress out of picking out their daily attire and manage to look sleek as hell.
Throughout the Helsinki journey worth 20,000 frozen steps, we noticed city-wide composting. The entire city’s infrastructure was outfitted with compost accommodations.
We ended the second evening at a public sauna, the Allas Sea Pool. We stacked our nearly naked bodies in a wooden room while the overheated and daring chose to run out for a cold plunge. Once again, I was fascinated at the level of fitness and vitality of the locals. Our local pool in Kansas reminds me of an outdoor Walmart with less clothes, and on any day of the week, one could create viral memes from the scenes your eyes cannot unsee.
On our walk back from the sauna, our guide pointed out the President’s home, which perplexed me. I could practically walk up to the front door of the Presidential Palace? Whaaat?!? The residence seemed so accessible and lacked the stately, secure, and extraordinary characteristics one might expect from the most powerful political figure of the country. Once again, the underwhelming yet practical Presidential Palace reinforced the country’s underlying culture of balance and fearlessness.
The next day, my travel buddy and I set out on our own. We scheduled to receive tattoos from a local artist. The tattoo artist, a petite, spunky woman from the Philippines, asked me several questions about my life in the United States. She laughed at the description of my family with three sons who all play sports and live on a farm. She said, “Just like the movies!” She also asked as she began working on the tattoo if we get a lot of sun in Kansas. To that, I responded, “Oh, yes! Even throughout the winter.”
She asked, “Do you like the sun?”
I responded with an emphatic YES!
Hesitantly, she asked, “Do you wear sunscreen?”
I turned and looked at her and responded, “I think you know the answer to that…” With that, we both burst out laughing as we all knew that my speckled, sun-damaged skin looked more like a safari zoo animal than an alabaster, creamy skinned local.
I did take note of the fact that her finished artwork didn’t make her IG page as promised. I suspect that had more to do with the canvas than it did the artwork.
On the third leg of our journey, we took an early train to the arctic destined for Rovaniemi, coined the “Official Hometown of Santa Clause.” Unfortunately, when it came time to board a connecting train to finish the last few hours of the trip, we learned that the second train broke down, and all travelers headed to Rovaniemi would complete the trek on a bus. When we located the bus, I followed my friend to the upper deck. Quickly, we started to sweat as the heater ran full blast. The bus reached full capacity and departed. Yet, the heat did not let up once the bus started heading down the snowy highway. We stripped down to nearly our underwear as I watched passengers slip down below to relay the message of our discomfort to the driver.
As it turned out, the bottom deck of the bus was freezing, and the malfunctioning heater was blowing in the top deck only and stuck on the highest mode. A golden retriever in the walkway panted heavily while trying to bring itself comfort, and very little complaining occurred amongst us on the 3 ½ hour drive. Not one to repeat an unpleasant experience, I booked airline tickets to return to Helsinki and canceled our returning train tickets.
10 out of 10 experience at the Artic SnowHotel & Glass Igloos in Rovaniemi, Lapland, Finland.
Outside of Rovaniemi, we stayed in the Arctic SnowHotel & Glass Igloos.. What an incredible stay! The property included several glass igloos and a one-of-a-kind hotel made out of snow and harvested ice. The restaurant and other accommodations were outstanding, and we took full advantage of the tour, restaurant, bar, and breakfast.
Another glaring cultural difference emerged that once again handed me a puzzle piece. Our host drank water out of the tap and small glasses of tap water were served at restaurants. I didn’t see travelers carrying plastic water bottles nor was there a convenience store at every corner where one could buy water. Within the glass igloo, a sign hung over the tea station stating that the water in their country was as pure as it gets - no need for plastic water bottles that only perpetuate a toxic environment and could ultimately compromise their water quality.
I realized the fact that their water was pure, unadulterated water meant that their bodies were truly hydrated with living water with the perfect balance of minerals, which better hydrates at the cellular level versus dead, chlorinated water littered with toxins. The Finns do not need to carry around giant Stanleys of water to stay hydrated.
All the observances that surfaced seemed to bubble up slowly and purposefully into my awareness. I couldn’t help but feel that I was destined to discover the nuances as a way to bridge the gap between my cultural existence and a culture that embodies balance within the mind, body, and spirit for true health and well-being. On top of that, the Finns lived as a part of nature not separate from nature.
The following day, we shuttled over to the spectacular Santa Claus Village. People from around the world wandered around like ants that happily lost their queen. We ate at the Kotahovi Lapland Restaurant, which served a delicious reindeer entree. After buying memorabilia, stuffing our faces with wonderful food, and seeing all we could see, we lined up for a reindeer sleigh ride through a wooded area.
Literally located at the line of the Arctic Circle, Santa Clause Village in Rovaniemi offered plenty of activities, excellent restaurants, and shopping for all ages!
The sleigh ride cost plenty and lasted a half a minute, but we thought what the hell! We are on vacation! We squeezed ourselves onto the low lying sleigh behind two reindeer, which connected to another empty sleigh the driver rode and two more reindeer. You could almost see the reindeer side-eye us and snort to one another only to say, “Oh good! Fat Americans!”
I noticed the reindeer seemed feisty as soon as we took off. The sun had set, and we were on the final flight of the afternoon. The reindeer seemed ready to hang it up for the night and receive their rations of grain, and the only thing between them and their R&R was the twits in the rear sleigh.
As the reindeer rounded the last bend, they excitedly skipped, which took our driver by surprise. Quickly, our driver lost his balance and fell onto the ground. He maintained his grip on one of the reigns as the reindeer started barrelling faster around the corner. Dragging on his belly, the driver lost his grip on the reign. At that point, the reindeer sensed freedom and started wildly sprinting towards the crowd. We heard the driver yell something in Finnish, and another worker looked down the path to see us driverless and flying towards her and several tourists. She stepped out in the path, waved her hands in the air, and yelled a command. The reindeer abruptly came to a stop as they slid into a stall. My friend and I were laughing hysterically while the guides expressed concern for our well-being. I don’t know if they’ve ever seen someone cry-laugh as hard as we were in that moment.
Finnish people don’t seem to have extraordinary reactions to anything. Not even when it’s funny.
We ended our trip back in Helsinki where my friend made plans to meet up with another acquaintance she’d met on exchange several years prior. He lived a few hours from Helsinki and worked for his family farm. I was excited to meet him as I had several questions regarding their farming practices in Finland.
I picked another local’s brain as we traversed through the Helsinki Christmas Market, also known as the Toumaan Markkinat, at the Senate Square. He explained that the Finland government is very strict when it comes to farm chemicals. He explained that if the government learns of any adverse health or environmental effects, the product is banned immediately. He pointed out the agency’s building responsible for making such decisions in the heart of Helsinki.
Oh, so, decisions and policies are made based on what is best for all, not just for monetary gains of private industries and companies? Interesting…
After leaving him at the central station that evening, we boarded a tram headed towards our host’s apartment. The tram didn’t make it far before coming to an unplanned stop. I could tell people were getting slightly nervous, and I overheard talk of needing to catch a ferry on time. Some people got off the tram, and some stayed with only a slight air of anxiety. I finally asked the people next to us what was going on, and a man explained that two cars were parked on the tram rails.
My friend and I decided to wait it out as we were in no hurry. After 15-20 minutes, the tram started to roll once more. While I half expected a loud cheer from everyone still on board with the forward motion, a slight shift back to center was all I noticed from the others on the tram.
In America, a similar situation would have likely brought out the worst in all involved. I could imagine people angrily interacting with the tram driver, flipping off the car owners, swearing and other over the top emotional outbursts. Not in Finland. They just adapted accordingly.
We spent the next day in two different airplanes with Kansas City as our final destination. Although I couldn’t wait to return to my family and warmer weather, I wanted to take the Finland energy with me. I couldn’t stop journaling about all my epiphanies and observations as I didn’t want to forget and lose the perspective I’d gained.
I realized just how wildly the average American’s pendulum swings. We react big and live in extremes and excess. We overly people please but have quick tempers and triggers that quickly send us reacting in the opposite way. We live for ourselves and disregard the needs and feelings of others. We live and raise our children in a constant state of fear and financial, environmental, and self-induced stress.
Even if one wanted to keep themselves grounded and balanced, we still live amongst people who wildly swing from one side to the next, and you end up feeling more like a pinball in a pinball machine. All Finns seemed to stay centered with only slight movements left or right of center, which applied to all aspects of their life.
A few months after my trip, I learned that Finland was ranked as the happiest country in the world for the seventh year in a row. Many United States publications followed up this news with articles pointing towards Finland's infamous sauna use, and if we Americans just spent more time in a sauna, we too can be as happy as the Finns. We are only one more purchase away from happiness.
Bull shit.
