Barking Seals in FInland

I am in a meeting with 7 people who run technical training businesses in Finland. There are 6 women, and one man. The women get blonder as I scan from one end of the room to the other, all wearing a combination of very sharp "blue suit" attires, splashed with bows, ribbons, and big jewelry. If I met them on the street, I would think none of them are over 30, but looking at the stack of business cards with impressive titles in small companies, I figure they might be older. (They all look like American college students on their first job interview.)

I laugh at their names as they are introduced: not one I can repeat, even with the business cards in front of me. They switch from English to Finnish, back to English as if they are changing channels on a TV set. I wonder somehow if they are even remotely conscious that they are speaking English.

The blondest of the blondes tells me that she went on an exchange program to Lexington Kentucky when she was 16. I can't imagine her in Kentucky. She says the woman running the exchange program told her not talk to the black people, as if she were telling her how to catch the school bus in the morning.

She was named "the pale one" and she aced out of geography for the first 6 months while they went over world geography. (Students later got even when they reviewed the US geography.) She tells me a great story about the teacher giving the students a pop quiz on the location of Finland ... half the class thought Finland was somewhere near India or over in south-east Asia. The teacher laughed and said she certainly didn't look like anybody from either region.

The meeting gets over and I sneak out for a walk through Helsinki. It has such an American feel to it. Real retail shops that just scream "CUSTOMER SERVICE." Modern buildings, wide sidewalks, big wide streets. Even the construction zones feel like they are American, with their careful preparation of the site to make sure nobody can get hurt. I feel as if I am in a small coastal village in Oregon or maybe more like Canada, the northwest part of Canada near Vancouver. Vivid green pine trees, gray soggy weather. Salmon and fish on every menu. The only differences with Finland are very subtle.

Everyone, and I do mean everyone, has a portable phone. The language is awkward, like a seal barking on a far off island. When it's written, it's impossible to pick out anything. Just strange words, translated into strange sounds.

Besides the language ... I could mistake this for US. Maybe not for Kentucky, but certainly for the northwest. I am in a strange country, yet I am home. What a nice transformation ... if only I could stay.

Soon it's time for the Air France flight back to Paris. Because I have a few extra minutes before boarding, I stop at the Air France counter to see if they can possibly send me the information on my frequent flyer program in English. The woman laughs at my request, "Linda English can only speak English because she's an American living in France."

I say to her, "well at least I don't do any false advertising. If my name was Linda French, you would call me a liar." She laughs even harder.

As I leave her to board the plane, I imagine her out with all her Finnish friends for drinks. I can hear that sound of her talking Finnish, that barking seal noise, and I imagine all these blond women just laughing. Yes, Linda English, living in France, cannot speak French. It makes me smile.