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CONTENTS EDITORIAL Johannes Suoranta WORDS FROM THE CHAIR Essi Haapaniemi THE BOARD OF 2016 Maria Pyykönen NIGHTMARES 2016 Marika Santavirta A YEAR IN THE KINGDOM Juuso Mäntykivi A LOCK’S TALE Auriina Kaarento LAST CONTRIBUTION TO THE STUDENTS Saara Lindberg CENTERFOLD EXTRAVAGANZA! Alisa Riikonen ON LEARNING TO TEACH Sini Kaarrekoski AN ANGLICAN MYSTERY Leena Hyrsky THERE AND BACK AGAIN Sonja Hakala THE ART OF SCREAMING PROFANITIES Emma Pyyhtiä WHAT A LONG STRANGE TRIP IT HAS BEEN Teemu Helenius OUR BUDDY FROM BANGLADESH Joni Järvinen AGC IN A NUTSHELL Johannes Suoranta RÄKÄLÄ REPORTAGE Atte-Ville Makkonen WAS THERE A DECISION? Päivi T. Tua
bacchanalia 1. (often capital) orgiastic rites associated with Bacchus 2. any drunken revelry Baccanalia Anglica ry. 2016 Printing: X-Copy Run: 90 Editor: Johannes Suoranta Layout: Johannes Suoranta Thanks to everyone associated with the project, either by contributing or otherwise helping. And special thanks to you reading this! You make this project worthwhile.
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Editorial
Johannes Suoranta The May Day is once again at us, and boy oh boy, what a year it has been! The rhombicuboctahedron-esque publication you are holding in your hands is but a sliver of the action. I have had the absolute pleasure to witness different Anglicans in different settings doing different things, anything ranging from actually-quite-respective Freshmen Sitz to casual coffee room hanging in the out. That is the beauty of Anglica, as not two Anglicans are alike. It really shows on the range and quality of the activities we produce, and it really shows in Baccanalia as well. In addition to enriching each and every day of my life, of course. In this fine issue, you can finally read about the root of Teemu’s OCD (obsessive clothing disorder), find out what is the truth behind the via Dolorosa known as Anglica’s cabinet and what really happens behind the (actually not so) closed doors of the Anglican improve group. With tons more dynamitic text for your pleasure! There is something for everyone.
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The year started with the tuutorointiviikko (the Week of the Tudors) where our royal family of very lovely tutors escorted the somewhat petrified freshmen into the Anglican flock. What I could gather they too, as I did back in the faraway year of 2013, found out that Anglica does not pick favourites. You can be of any nationality, gender, sexual preference, background, have any taste in music or movies or beverages or what have you and never be out of place here. That is the force which keeps this family so strong, the fact that divergence is not to be ashamed, but cherished. That is the thought I wish to leave you with. Look around you, and embrace your fellow person’s differences. Make it a shield against dull days and epiphanies for essays. Cthulhu knows my life would be as gray as the beginning of an infomercial if it wasn’t for the all the wonderful people filling my university life and all of the years beyond it. I thank you, friends, you are my lightning crashing through the night, painting the walls with hours of love. Now go out there and have fun, you crazy kids! Your humblebee editor-in-chief
Words from the Chair Essi Haapaniemi
Oh boy, has the spring gone by fast! It's hard to believe that it's already time for our May Day celebrations, as I'm still trying to get used to writing ”2016” in documents. May Day has always been a favourite event of mine, ever since I was little. Nowadays it's the day that wraps up all the hard work done in the academic year, and makes me feel like a part of Turku's student community probably more than anything else. Of course, the day would not be complete without the company of all you great Anglicans! When I was a kid, May Day was mainly about getting a cool balloon and playing with soap bubbles. The most boring part was standing in the crowd at Taidemuseonmäki with my parents, listening to some dude(tte) giving a speech about some insignificant nonsense, and then seeing all those grown-ups put on their white caps. All I wanted to do was wander around the market place buying some vital items, like back scratchers or funny top hats. I couldn't understand why my parents wanted to participate in such a boring thing. The other day I was at my childhood home and went through some old photographs, including pictures from my parents' study years. When they've told me about their friends from the University and recalled their own May Day's and such, they've just been stories without any deep meaning to me. Now, apart from the horrible clothes of the 80's, the pictures could have been my own. Friends laughing, going to masquerades, barbecuing, opening bottles of bubbly at May Day picnic. The things that were the most boring part of May Day in my childhood are now my own traditions.
As the Chair I'm supposed to say some words of wisdom here, so here goes: enjoy these years. Make new friends, make great memories. Studying is of course important, but these people and these happy days are the things that will stick with us till the end. I wish you all a happy summer!
I hope, or actually I know, that my own stories from these years will be filled with as much joy, funny happenings and great people. And that I mostly owe to all of you, and to Anglica. I am very proud of being a part of Anglica. Anglica has given me a lot, and that is why being able to organise different kinds of happenings for all of you guys in return gives me tremendous pleasure. I know that the whole board consists of awesome people who dedicate a great amount of their time to making these events happen, and it’s simply done because we all care about Anglica and its members. You are the reason we all want to do this.
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The Board of 2016 Maria Pyykönen
Hey, what is that over there? Is it, perhaps, a herd of lost unicorns? An abnormally numerous group of sasquatches? An adorable bunch of free (duh) house elves? Or is it, in fact, the board of Anglica? Well, you’ve guessed it – it is the board. Nevertheless, we are now approaching a group of mysterious and magical creatures. Several sightings of them are reported annually and some even claim to have met them in person, but what do we actually know about this wonderful lot? Here is your chance to get to know them and learn their deepest, darkest secrets. CHAIR Please state your name and age. Essi Haapaniemi, 24. If you could be someone else for a day, who would you be? Why? I would like to be Joseph Gordon-Levitt's wife. Because I would be JGL's wife. How would you go about finding a needle in a haystack? Discuss strategy. First, I'd plan to do it in the eighth week. And then I wouldn't. A few hours before the deadline I would panic, just dig through the haystack without any strategy, cry a little, and hope for the best. What makes YOU unique? My profound and never-ending love for Whitney Houston's song I Wanna Dance With Somebody.
VICE CHAIR Please state your name and age. Anu Laurila, twenty two (22) years old. What do you think is your most important contribution to the board of Anglica? My coffee making skills most definitely. I also like organizing stuff which has been pretty handy over the years. What do you think is the key to success? Determination. Occasionally also nepotism but unfortunately not in my case. If you were a villain in a superhero movie, what would be your Achilles’ heel? My laziness probably. Outsourcing is great but I think that at some point it would start to bite me in the ass. Though I guess if I were a nice villain (i.e. towards my minions), it could work out. If it did, then maybe cute animals, it’d be so easy to lure me into a trap with like a puppy or something. I’m not even kidding.. 6
TREASURER Please state your name and age. Joni Järvinen, 25. What do you think is your most important contribution to the board of Anglica? My incredible sense of humor. Not once has any of my jokes failed. They always elicit boisterous laughter and everybody gives me high fives. If you could be someone else for a day, who would you be? Why? Angela Merkel. I would be both better at German and cuter. What makes YOU unique? Whatever makes any of us unique? Our personalities, the way we view the world, how we laugh, how we treat each other, the way in which we love and care for each other, pulling together to achieve shared goals and individual aspirations. I, on the other hand, wear a coat indoors.
SECRETARY Please state your name and age. Marika Santavirta, 27. What do you think is your most important contribution to the board of Anglica? I happen to own a car which has been a convenient way to transport food and drinks to the sitz parties. Without my car I would be no one. Imagine you were given the task of designing a new emoji. What would it look like? I noticed that there is no carrot-emoji, so my answer is a carrot who is wearing sunglasses. What do you think is the key to success? The key to success is knowing it but not telling anybody. If you were a villain in a superhero movie, what would be your Achilles’ heel? My conscience that would turn me into one of the good guys.
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INFO Please state your name and age. Valtteri, 24 years old. If you were to take over the world, how would you do it? With an army of penguins and dogs at my command! If you were a villain in a superhero movie, what would be your Achilles’ heel? Is this question somehow linked to the previous question? So you will all know what to do when I eventually DO take over the world!? (You probably don't have anything to worry about, I'd be too busy just playing with the dogs and penguins to actually get anything done.) If you could be someone else for a day, who would you be? Why? Anyone who can stay in bed in the morning. How would you go about finding a needle in a haystack? Discuss strategy. I would set the haystack on fire and then do pagan dance rituals around the blaze.
PROJECTS Please state your name and age. Saara Lindberg, 23 years old. What do you think is your most important contribution to the board of Anglica? The first that comes to mind is my bubbliness and silliness. But I guess one thing that is sort of important is that I care. A lot. If you were to take over the world, how would you do it? I took a quiz called ”How likely are you to take over the world?” and it said 18 per cent so I guess I shouldn't come up with a plan. I'm no little Hitler. Imagine you were given the task of designing a new emoji. What would it look like? A combination of the suggestive smile face and the OK hand sign. What makes YOU unique? I take pride in the fact that I'm extremely ordinary. Except that I can bend all my fingers back 90 degrees which is just kinda gross. 8
SOCIAL & EDUCATIONAL AFFAIRS Please state your name and age. Charlotte, 23. If you were to take over the world, how would you do it? With great intentions and a cool costume. Can’t reveal any details in case I ever decide to go forward with my plan. Imagine you were given the task of designing a new emoji. What would it look like? Probably horrible and totally unrecognizable given my designing skills and artistic eye. If you could be someone else for a day, who would you be? Why? I’d be the sole inhabitant of a tropical island somewhere warm (with dolphins!), so that I could just relax and enjoy the sun and scenery for a day without any distractions and come back totally refreshed. What do you think is the key to success? A combination of persistence, confidence, out-of-the-box thinking and courage. Also luck.
PARTY & CULTURE Please state your name and age. Teemu Helenius, 23. Imagine you were given the task of designing a new emoji. What would it look like? It would be an emoji of a person covered in tons of colourful scarves. How would you go about finding a needle in a haystack? Discuss strategy. I would take out every piece of hay separately because like people, all pieces of hay have personal feelings and they’re all fragile. DANDIES FOR APPRECIATION OF HAYSTACKS 2016! If you were a villain in a superhero movie, what would be your Achilles’ heel? Black suits made of 100% polyester or other synthetic fabrics.
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PARTY & CULTURE Please state your name and age. Paul-Erik Niit, 22. If you were to take over the world, how would you do it? Easy, I would invade the HQ of the Internet. If you could be someone else for a day, who would you be? Why? Emmett "Doc" Brown, so I could time-travel for as long as I wanted to. What do you think is the key to success? Defining even the smallest victories in life as moments of success. If you were a villain in a superhero movie, what would be your Achilles’ heel? Fainting when seeing blood.
MEMBER Please state your name and age. Saku Hellbom, 24. What do you think is your most important contribution to the board of Anglica? I guess it's how I want to help out any way I can. Need something carried across the city? Done. Need me to clean the toilets? Done. Need me to sell a kidney to get money for Anglica? Done. Imagine you were given the task of designing a new emoji. What would it look like? I've actually thought about this: I want the standard yellow face emoji, but without eyes or mouth. Don't ask why. If you were a villain in a superhero movie, what would be your Achilles’ heel? Having to wake up too early in the morning. I'm an easy prey to superheroes if I've just woken up. What makes YOU unique? My messed up sense of humor(?) Also, my fingerprints.
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MEMBER Please state your name and age. Mikael Klemelä 22. If you were to take over the world, how would you do it? I would obtain immortality somehow and then I would continue living my life normally, until for whatever reason the rest of the mortal humanity dies, which would make me the only human in the planet and I would unanimously declare myself the supreme leader of earth. What do you think is the key to success? Motivational cat posters. How would you go about finding a needle in a haystack? Discuss strategy. I would jump into the haystack and start flailing vigorously until I would feel the needle sting me. What makes YOU unique? My incredibly toned cheek muscles. I can smile for days without rest.
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Oulu, where NightMarES come to life. Marika Santavirta
National Meeting of English Student is an annual event where all the crazy English majors gather to have a zany weekend together. As you may know, the theme for the weekend is chosen by the organized city. The only rule is that the name has to include the letters NMES. This year, the windy city of the North, Oulu, had this great honor. This year’s theme was NightMarES, and once I heard about it I knew I had to participate. Let me introduce our daring group of nine people that encountered the nightmares in Oulu: Rasmus “not a typical Finnish-Swedish” Nordman. The only daring freshman that accepted the challenge with us old farts, even though suffering lack of sleep due to partying on the previous night. Juuso “don’t forget where you are coming from” Mäntykivi. This journey had a deeper, root-seeking meaning for Juuso, who was once born in Oulu many many years ago. Pirkka “enigma” Hallamaa. Towel-forgetting ex-chair, who almost missed the sitz party due to seeking a new towel from the “Hullut päivät” somewhere in Oulu. Saara “the true heroine” Lindberg. This is a superwoman we are talking about; during the whole trip she suffered from the worst fever ever. Yet she didn’t complain but participate everything and partied like a true Anglican.
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Kalle “this can’t be good for me” Moilanen. Kalle’s story is similar to Saara’s, a fever knocking the door but still participating everything and being the megamind of our epic play performed at the sitz party. Alisa “I surely know the numbers” Riikonen. She overconfidently yelled out the wrong number when people were divided into groups for the city crawl. The number 15 comes after 13, right? Anu “the omniscient force” Laurila. This girl has a solution for everything. It is sometimes forgotten that she is the lastborn of this group. Mentally, she seems to be the oldest and wisest. Johannes “a knight with a white ride” Suoranta. He took care of one of our sick participant throughout the weekend and even acted the leading role of our epic play with a little help from Gambina. And myself, Marika “not a fan of ethnic food” Santavirta. Last year I yelled out “I hate everything ethnic!” meaning the food of course, but it seems this phrase will follow me to the end of time.
So the group of nine Anglican daredevils began their journey towards Oulu. The journey started “well”: we forgot our sellable items (Anglica’s overall patches) and Anglica’s flag, but that wasn’t going to stop us from having the time of our lives. The train trip was fun; we listened only to train-themed songs for the first couple of hours. After changing the train in Tampere our mouths and minds were drooling for liquid, and the restaurant car offered the perfect cure. 11 AM and a beer in my hand, sounds like a fine Friday. After traveling for six and a half hours, we were there. Oulu, “the northernmost place there is” like one of the locals said. We gathered to the school we were staying and the fun was about to start. Even though two out of nine Anglicans were sick, we didn’t let that spoil our party mood. We were divided into teams and thus the city crawl started. The weather was quite windy and chilly, but the crawl was fun and lasted for a couple of merry hours. After the crawl we headed to a local nightclub where the winners were announced. Our very own Saara didn’t care about her fever and was part of the winning team! The singing, dancing, and partying went on and around 2 AM we headed back to the school. Some of us went to sleep while others had the after party in the locker room. The next morning started shiny in the local gymnasium floor, and we were ready for another day in Oulu. Unfortunately the breakfast was only for the early birds,
which meant we had to go to the local supermarket to buy some breakfast of our own. Then, it was lecture-time at the University of Oulu. . The lecture was built around the theme of NightMarES. An Englishman with funny accent showed us horrific pictures accompanied with stories related to nightmares. The lecture was really interesting and funny. After the lecture the theme for the annual performance was revealed: scary movie. Turku has a reputation of not worrying too much about the play performed in the evening’s sitz party, and this time was no different. We were tired so we went back to the school to get some rest before the evening’s sitz party. This is where our previous chair Pirkka decided to leave for a mysterious trip of buying a new towel and vanished for a couple of hours. Luckily he made it to the sitz party in time. The sitz party included singing, drinking, and somewhat eating. Every city had prepared a play around the theme of scary movie, and in my opinion Turku did well, taken into account the lack of rehearsing before the great masterpiece. In our play, a student was facing the worst nightmare a student can think of: “laskuhumala”. The trophy went to Joensuu’s Echo ry and they seemed to be very happy about it. The party went on and the night went on, some of us sleeping some and some of us sleeping none. 13
Then came the Sunday morning and it was time to say goodbyes and leave back for home sweet homes. The train trip back went rather quickly due to our tiredness and the worst jokes one can think of. Last selfie was taken in the train station and after that a fun but exhausting weekend was over. This was my second NMES experience but I hope not the last one! Can’t wait what Jyväskylä has to offer next year!
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A Year in the Kingdom Juuso Mäntykivi
Before I got into university, my life was in shambles. My diet consisted primarily of a blended concoction of ice cream and leftover pizza. If I wasn’t watching reruns of Love Connection, I was scouring the internet for information of the New World Order and the Bilderberg meetings. At night I sat around in sweatpants playing role-playing games until the clatter of the mailman pacing in the hallway awoke me from my stupor. Then I joined Anglica and my life became an endless stream of euphoria. A year passed like a dream and I found myself standing in Juslenia’s lecture hall XXVII, giving a riveting speech that included me not being able to name a single reason why I would be a suitable member of the board of Anglica. I think I concluded my speech with something like ‘’vote for whoever you want’’. I was named vice member, partly because of my display of unbridled enthusiasm, and partly because I had secretly strong-armed the majority of the audience to vote for me. Like Paulo Coelho probably said at some point: ‘’you must do whatever you can to get ahead - forget other people’’. Fortunately for me, the other new vice member turned out to be an intellectual powerhouse that knew how to make right decisions and punch problems in the face. He was also in love with Angela Merkel, which I thought was quite interesting and not at all strange. Clearly this was a trustworthy individual.
Like the other board members, we took part in everything. But unlike the other board members, we didn’t have a specific area of responsibility, so we tried to make ourselves useful by doing stuff that the others didn’t have time to do. However, the board consisted of such industrious folks that, pound for pound, we didn’t have much to do. We did manage to take the ‘vice’ out of the title of vice member, though. We had absolutely nothing to do with the decision, but we took it as a personal victory. A year as a member of the board made me much more appreciative of the people who organize all the events. I now feel a curious sense of guilt when I arrive at the Hillhuttian Association (my translation) a few minutes before the sitz party begins, knowing the current board members have already been there for two hours, preparing everything. When I leave, they stay and clean it all up. They work hard for the benefit of others and don’t ask for anything in return. I do realize the cat doesn’t live on a thank-you (my translation again) and that we don’t tend to give feedback when things are running smoothly. But I know even a small expression of gratitude can be enough to make their trouble feel worthwhile. So, to all the members of the board: thank you! And watch out for the Treasurer. He is bent on world domination.
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A Lock’s Tale Auriina Kaarento
The first of May 2014, sometime before 10 am. I was the first to arrive in Kaffila and therefore the first mortal to witness that Anglica’s cabinet had been broken into. The snapped lock was thrown into the bin, which was of course very considerate of the burglar. During that hectic morning, the biggest concern was getting happy juice for the Wappu punch to replace the stolen bottles before the frolicking masses would arrive. Little did I know what kind of a road was looming ahead when I later pledged myself to the simple task of replacing a broken lock. I entered Biltema quite cheerfully bearing in mind a few requirements for the new lock. For starters, it would have to be a combination lock because it would cost a fortune to have separate keys made for the whole board. Also, the lock would have to be large enough to reach the two door handles. My confidence took a hit once I was faced with the selection of locks. Those symbolical metallic contraptions were awfully pricy and too small for our purposes. In addition, I came to the conclusion that having a combination mechanism was passé and not at all trendy among locks. Eventually, I came home with a black bicycle lock which I later presented proudly to my fellow board members. However, the joy was as short-lived as cotton candy in water.
The bloody lock was too large to fit through the door handles. So, with a forced smile on my face I embarked on another journey to Bauhaus in search for larger door handles. I was greeted by several sophisticated-looking handles which unfortunately were not designed to co-operate with my sturdy bicycle lock. I was left with a couple of colossal ones which were obviously meant to adorn a front door of some kind of male-dominated factory. Long story short, I bought them, I showed them to my sneering board members, borrowed a drill, replaced the handles and finally locked the cabinet for the first time in months. I took a step back and eyed the result. The bizarre fusion of the office and industrial worlds would at least keep the design-conscious burglars at bay. Months went by and the bicycle lock turned out to be very impractical. Opening and closing the cabinet would require so much effort that hardly no-one tried to conceal their relief when the rotating discs showed signs of breaking. We finally decided to purchase a padlock with separate keys for each board member, no matter the cost. So, I found myself again smelling the rubbery odour of Biltema, this time without even a hint of a smile. I grabbed the cheapest padlock I could find that was long enough to reach the door handles and headed to a shoemaker to get more copies of the keys. (Of course, I paid for the lock first.) The shoemaker barely needed to glance at the lock to tell me that he couldn’t make new copies of the bugger. He made me a decent offer for one of his Abloy locks and eleven keys to go with it. A lock number four, that is. In the following week I returned to the shoemaker to take his deal and a new lock was bought and keys were made. Would you believe me if I told you that I made a third trip to the shoemaker the next day because he accidentally gave me ten keys instead of eleven? I’m glad to inform you that in the possession of Anglica there has been one lock which was broken in the burglary; one bicycle lock that was a pain in the hiney and eventually broke; one lock whose package still remains unopened; and one lock that is now guarding the Anglica’s cabinet. The current lock can be accessed with not ten but eleven keys, each belonging to a member of the board. In addition, Anglica has two sets of door handles. The massive ones which might not look appropriate even on a massive front door and the original dainty ones which I drilled back. I wish this story was only make-believe and these numerous twists were only added to spice up this tale. I really do.
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One Last Contribution to the Students Saara Lindberg
Hello David, and thank you for agreeing to this interview. First of all, where are you originally from and how did you end up in Turku? I am from Arizona, a small town called Tempe. I am a member of the Baha'i community and I came to Finland as a part of their youth exchange program in 1971. The idea was a year's service abroad. I wanted to come here just to see Finland and get to know a new culture. Was becoming a teacher always your goal? Since the 3rd grade I wanted to be a teacher, a science teacher to be more exact. To become a science teacher in Finland I would have had to take the entrance exams in Finnish, and I didn’t know any Finnish at that time so I was advised to study English Philology and come back later. I taught English at private language schools for a living, and began reading books about teaching English and became interested. Somewhere along the way the director of the Language Center, who knew me, asked me to teach English to a group of dentists. I began teaching at the Language Center and had a job there for almost 20 years. (At this moment David was surprised, because his phone rang and he said it never rings, and I got to hear that he speaks perfect Finnish!) Then I happened to meet Juhani (Hiirikoski) on the train, who was working at the Translation Department, which was separate from our department at that time, and he said they needed a teacher. So I began working there and continued until the two departments merged together to form what is now the Department of English. What do you like about living in Finland? The environment, the social system... People are maybe not as superficial as in the States. Once you get to know people here, you find that they are really good friends. Is there still sometimes a culture/language barrier, in what kind of situations? The barrier usually appears when I go back to the States. A few years back I was at a supermarket, and the clerk asked “Debit or credit?” For the life of me I couldn’t figure out what she was asking. Of course, nowadays the same debit/credit term is used here. Politeness is different in the two countries. For example, in Finland everyone says “Thank you” to the driver when they get off the bus, while in the US when you go into a store the sales personnel say hello to you right away and might even strike up a conversation, which is something Finns maybe wouldn’t like. I think Finns are becoming more and more like Americans, though. Do you get back to the States often? No, since it’s quite
expensive and my wife is also a teacher, so the only possible time to visit is summer when it’s about 40-45 degrees in Arizona. So now you are retiring. What are you going to miss about working here? Everything. I think it keeps you young to be around young people. I am going to miss my colleagues, and discussing things with them. I’m a born teacher, so I will really miss the students, too. Until now, I’ve been leading sort of a double life, living in Salo, and working in Turku, so maybe I will become more active in my life in Salo. I am actually a PhD student, so I will be visiting the university now and then. I feel like I “owe” it to the university to finish it now that I have time. What are you NOT going to miss (about the students or the work)? Walking up the hill to the university. Any plans for retirement? We are expecting our second grandchild in September. We also plan to visit my mother in Arizona, who will soon turn 90. I would also like to be more involved in the community-building activities organized by the Bahá’ís to improve the physical, intellectual and spiritual well-being of children and young people and help improve the sense of community in general. The readers of Baccanalia would like to thank David for the interview and wish him a very happy retirement! 17
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The writer of this text never wanted to become a teacher and believes, 87% of the time, that pedagogics are a pseudoscience.
On learning to teach Sini Kaarrekoski
There will be a specific point in time (for me it was while darting around a dirty class room floor on all fours, trying to slap my hand on printed out pictures of animals in an attempt to inspire 3rd graders to learn what a guinea pig is) when you realise that, in spite of all the silly, useless, downright stupid stuff you’ve had to do all year, you are becoming a Teacher. You will pause for just a moment, take a deep breath, and for once actually know that the whole thing has been worth it. And then you’ll go back to being stressed out and frustrated and angry, the way you’ve been since mid-October. That’s the thing with the study unit known as ‘aineenopettajan pedagogiset opinnot’. You will learn amazing things about yourself and acquire this completely new identity and get to do really, unbelievably cool stuff. But most of the time you won’t remember any of the cool stuff, because you’ll be so weighed down by all the other, definitely not cool stuff you’re expected to do. Mind you, none of this stuff is un-cool because it’s particularly difficult or challenging or complicated. In fact, most of what you’ll be expected to learn, you’ll probably already have some sort of understanding of. It’s scheduling that’s the killer. Don’t get me wrong, you’ll have to hit the books hard as well. You will have to learn a whole new vocabulary of science. It’s what happens with every minor subject you take on: most of the stuff is familiar, but since it’s a different subject, or a different department, or in this case an entirely different faculty, they use different words to talk about it, words with definitions they expect you to learn. There is some content that’s actually entirely new too. But all of this could, in my opinion, be fairly easily managed. What you will end up spending most of your time on is figuring out how all the little pieces and strangely named courses and different factions of teaching and interning fit together. Your calendar will be a mess. That’s one of the little pieces of insight into the lives of teachers I’ve gained during this year: there’s a reason teachers’ journals are A4 in size and have stacks of paper sticking out of them in all directions. Add to all this scheduling confusion the fact that you’ll also be switching between being a student to being a teacher to being an assistant constantly, sometimes several times a day, and it’s no wonder they warn you about how stressful the year will be.
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I mentioned little pieces of insight above. You will gain those. Actually, in my opinion, they are the most valuable thing you’ll learn all year. The credits you’ll work for will be helpful, for the most part, and the lectures you’ll have to sit through can be informative, but most of the stuff that you’ll really learn, and really appreciate, will be accidental, and between the lines. Most if it will happen through mistakes you will make when teaching. And you will make mistakes, loads of ‘em! The making of the mistakes is also useful, because it will help you realise that your teachers, way back when, were also human. They made mistakes. They had stage fright. They probably had hangover days and days when all they could think about was a chocolate bar waiting for them at home. They probably hated you at least once or twice every month. And you turned out alright anyway. So, with that cheering thought on the importance of being a teacher, here’s the point of this slightly ranty text condensed neatly into one paragraph. This study unit that you’re required to take to become an English teacher will make you question the sanity of all teaching staff everywhere. It will make you appreciate the level and pure scientificness (it’s a word) of the research and teaching we’re a part of at our department. And it will, if you’re even a little bit willing, make you into a Teacher. So if you have even the slightest inclination, or even just a nagging thought in the back of your head that you might want to try teaching someday maybe if nothing else works out, do apply. This was my back up plan, and I can’t wait to get out there and teach! First, though, I have to finish a 15-page paper on culture in language teaching. Urgh.
tips for survival Trust yourself, you’ve got this. They know stuff you don’t, even if you think they’re seriously mentally challenged You do not want to navigate this alone, the scheduling alone will take DAYS. Support group up! This is a 60 credit crash-course-meets-internship package. Trying to complete 7 extra courses just to make up for the “lost” year probably won’t work out. And lock your bike! Important stuff here. Important enough to take 10 minutes of lecture time to explain to university students. Like, seriously.
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t jus la en affi twe g o K be in int es hav ed nut of alk mi se r w w rpo ve a fe pu ‌ u e or he ‌ yo n f h t fee ve ow wit cof Ha sit d s or p of to ture e cu lec t on jus
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a cat funeral and a productive afternoon at the library?
and then suddenly awaken to the fact that you have missed 3 lectures,
An Anglican Mystery - The Curse of Kaffila Leena Hyrsky
You’re not the only one. For various Anglicans a fifteen-minute coffee break has turned into a three-hour discussion marathon more times one can count, and the hours wasted away lounging on Kaffila’s dull-coloured - yet surprisingly comfortable - sofas would round up to at least five study points. Whether the discussion topic is the semantics of the lyrics of the flop song “Grindaa ja flowaa”, embarrassing teen moments or actual school work, time seems to move very differently at Kaffila than in the real world. What kind of anomaly has taken hold of Kaffila? Do we have a Bermuda’s Triangle situation on our hands? Could this be an enigma of the mystical? How do you handcuff a one-armed man? Is Kaffila situated in a tear in the space-time continuum? Or perhaps the answer is even more terrifying - we are just lazy AF.
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There and Back Again: Reverse Culture Shock Sonja Hakala
I didn’t know reverse culture shock was a thing before I had it. Returning to Finland last summer after four years of studying for a degree in Scotland, I was not expecting to experience a more severe version of the culture shock I’d had when moving to the UK. This time, I was returning home. It’d all be smooth sailing, right? Right. I guess it’s one of those things no-one tells you about before you go – that should you decide to return, you’ll not only feel like you’re coming home, but also like you’ve moved to a foreign country all over again (as it turns out, a few weeks in Finland during the holidays once or twice a year doesn’t really help that much). It’s not that I wasn’t happy to be back. There were many things to be happy about. I got to speak Finnish again. When you have to live through a foreign language, you notice that the hardest thing to express in another language is your personality and sense of humour. Getting to speak your first language is a relief, no matter how fluent you are in your second. I also no longer had to put up with the near-constant rain, the old, damp and cold houses, or the invasion of house spiders every autumn, an alarming event known in the UK as the ‘spider season’. (Yes, really.) But when you live in another country, you change. You encounter a new culture, you make new friends, you settle in. You adapt to the new normal. This changes you. You start talking differently, acting differently. Your idea of what is polite behaviour changes. You begin to see the world from a different perspective. Returning to your home country turns out to be a great way of highlighting all the ways in which you’ve changed without really noticing it happen.
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After so much time away, Finnish felt strange in my mouth, stranger than I had expected it to. I had to spent more time trying to come up with the word I was looking for. Turns of phrase would come out half-wrong. I felt clumsy and slow, words sticking in my throat. There were new Finnish words that confused me – what on Earth was the word ‘suvakki’ even supposed to mean? There were also things that had happened over the past four years without me really noticing. I only had a vague idea of who Robin was. And who was JVG? What were all these songs that people were singing along to, knowing the words by heart? And when I went to my hometown, there were buildings that seemed to have had appeared out of nowhere, strange interlopers in a nostalgia-filled environment. Having grown used to UK-style casual touching, I had to keep reminding myself not to touch any of the new people I met in Turku. In the UK you would usually hug someone after the first time you met them. Settling into university life there was pretty much one huge hug-fest. Here, not so much. I also had to try my hardest not to get offended when someone didn’t hold the door open for me to go in after them or when someone failed to apologise after bumping into me. The teaching style at my new university didn’t seem to suit me either. And sometimes I just struggled to understand the mindset of other Finns. It seemed like the strange had become familiar and the familiar had become strange.
A view of one of the prettier streets in Glasgow.
Most of all, I missed my friends back in Scotland. You grow close when you share an experience like that. Most of my friends stayed in the UK, while some headed for other parts of Europe. I was the only one to go to Finland. I knew I wouldn’t be seeing my UK friends in months or even years. It felt as if, instead of beginning a new chapter, I’d thrown the whole book out of the window. I even kind of missed UK food. Can you believe that? But then, slowly but surely, I began to re-adapt. Turku is a lovely city, after all, and there was so much to discover. I met lots of new people, and eventually things sort of settled and I started to feel at home again.
I guess that, moving back and forth between countries, you eventually develop a kind of dual perspective alongside a renewed appreciation for cultural relativity. I mean, sure, the whole UK hugging culture is nice, but it’s also nice to have your own space and to not have to hug someone you barely even know. Smiling politely to strangers is all good, but not having to walk around with a fake smile plastered on your face all day is also pretty cool. (Anyway, it makes my cheeks hurt.) Each culture has value. Each is important. Though I’m still hoping that shops in Finland will start stocking those chunky-style KitKats. They were damn good. 25
The art of Screaming Profanities Emma Pyyhtiä
Every day we improvise. How, you may ask? Well, you can't decide how a conversation with another human being is going to turn out, you just have to wing it! In improv classes we turn the unconscious everyday improvisation into exercises and laughter. As a group we study what creating scenes and characters in seconds is like, how it works, what rules there are (if there are any at all). Do you know what carrying an elephant on your shoulder would look and feel like, how gibberish with a German accent sounds like, and why would a doctor be stuck on a rollercoaster? We do, it's what we figure out together every week. When I started these “classes” I was beyond nervous, but one of the basic steps in becoming a fluent improviser is to trust your instinct. And through “Anglica goes impro” I've found how much talent lies in people who have never even stepped on stage, how many funny bones and clever twists are in the wonderful crazies I get to improvise with in our weekly get-togethers. Every soul in our group is always prepared, willing to learn and – no matter how restless or tired – willing to pull out all the stops to make scenes work and create new tales. We practice letting go, creating and finishing a scene and, most crucially, we try to make our brains realize that “failing” is a gift. There is no shame in not being the funniest, messing up or choking up. It's how you learn. One can never know where they'll end up after a stumble. It's amazing to witness a brilliant comeback or the joy of successfully knitting together a fluent story. We as a group of Anglicans get to experience this together every week. In improvisation, you find a cleverness and openness in yourself, you didn't know was there; the vastness
of your imagination is a mystery, but in improvisation we try to rip off the filter that makes us choose what is appropriate, and let all our ideas roam free. It's about reacting to others, saying “YES” a whole lot, and being okay with screaming “PENIS” when the word pops into your head. We can’t always be in charge of what happens during communication, which is also a large part improvisation. When building a scene with other people, the most important – and the most difficult – thing to do is just to let stuff happen; you cannot force another imagination to work as yours does, you can only react to one another and build the story together. That’s what makes the performance flow, what makes it a joint effort, and usually, what makes it work. Improvisation is story-telling, laughter, letting go, being okay with who you are and the freedom to be who you are. As Shakespeare expressed it: “All the world’s a stage!”, and in improvisation that could not be more true. I mean, come on, we can turn a plant into a table and a room into a palace. We can find ways to gross out a therapist in 30 seconds and experience a wilderness journey of gibberish-speaking backpackers in the Rockies. Without improvisation, where could one find that? Where else can you be as “wrong” and disgusting as on a stage creating a character who isn’t you? Where else can a university student try out what it’s like to be a 40-year-old tractor salesman from Karelia? I’ll tell you, it’s a beautiful sight to see when these things happen. We all need laughter, and “Anglica goes impro” is a special time in the middle of the week, when our group gets together, lets go and laughs for the chance to simply relax. Improvisation is creating things out of nothing, being funny and clever and always open to ideas from the imagination of others. It is simply so. Much. Fun. Do you know how an Estonian bodybuilder ended up in Brazil to work at Subway? Neither do we, but maybe we’ll find out next week!
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What a Long Strange Trip it has Been Teemu Helenius
I am quite certain that most of the readers of Baccanalia have seen me go about my daily business in the style of clothing I like to employ. I have also shared some intriguing details about this rather peculiar interest of mine with practically anyone who’s willing to listen. Now I felt like it would be high time for a more comprehensive story of how this obsessive clothing disorder arrived into my life. Prepare yourselves for a journey through the last four and a half years of clothing extravaganza which I also like to call my life. Naturally, we shall start from the very beginning! The autumn semester of the last year of upper secondary school had just begun and I had a chance and a need to do something with my wardrobe, following a big weight loss earlier in the year. The main culprit here was the quest for a new jacket for autumn. By chance, my mind cooked up an idea of a tweed jacket as the answer to all my questions. Browsing the internet for more details led to a Finnish message board pertaining to classical menswear. It didn’t take much reinforcement for me to be convinced that a tweed jacket is just what was missing in my life. The role of the catalyst was bestowed on that jacket but what happened next is most likely even more important.
dashing back and forth with excitement. I think things maybe got a bit out of hand when I actually wore that thing to school like it was nothing special. Ah, the joys of youth! I remember all kinds of clothes from that year that I’d happily show the flamethrower now. I did have boatloads of fun with the experimentation back then! I’d still reckon that it’s necessary to learn the rules before breaking them. I had an idea of the rules back then but I preferred to disregard them as much as possible. Everything’s been more of a process of refinement after that. Dressing yourself is actually as much a skill as anything. You get better with more practice. I’ve definitely practiced a lot. In addition to that an important thing was of course the discovery of dandyism.
I can’t pinpoint the exact moment anymore that the next step on this path was taken like I can almost remember the exact date when I bought the tweed jacket (I might even still have that receipt). As some of you might know, tweed jackets of the kind I bought have this little pocket. In that pocket one can put something. That something is of course a pocket square. This is the point of no return. I’ll readily admit that I absolutely love pocket squares. They’re easily my favourite single item in menswear. What is great about a square is the fact that it’s absolutely useless. It has no function whatsoever. It’s there solely for the purpose of looking good. You can also make a pocket square out of practically anything. Sure no one will know if your square is actually a depiction of a great work of art unless you pull it out of the pocket (quite vulgar I know, but ever so enticing to do) but maybe, just maybe, its allure is simply the fact that you know what you have in there. Anyway, I’m getting a bit sidetracked here. Let us move on. There’s one more thing I’d like to mention from that year in upper secondary school and that is of course the purple suit. I was in Portugal with my family during that autumn and happened to stumble upon that magnificent beast. It was discounted by like 90% and looked ridiculously awesome. So I brought that back home to Finland. I faintly remember trying it on in the hotel room for fun and 27
Now, some of you readers will most likely think “not that dandy stuff again”. I won’t let you off without it! Dandyism was something I came across from time to time in the first couple of years of this clothing extravaganza but the nudge into the right direction was experienced on a fateful summer’s day in 2014. I was heading to Herrainpukimo in the city centre when I stopped just before it at Sammakon kirjakauppa. There was a stall outside with some books for 2 euros there. One of them was a book on Dandyism and George “Beau” Brummell. I had heard of him before so buying the book for that price was a no-brainer. The aftermath of that purchase was a new outlook on clothing, a more philosophical take, I dare say. Dandyism is a difficult subject to deal with though. I even went as far as to write my AWS2 essay on the topic but that revealed some unsavoury details of the ideology. Finding balance between the tenets of dandyism and “normal life” has been an ongoing challenge of vital importance. After all, I cannot live a life based on an ideology born and largely relevant only in the 19th century. I still like to strive for the goal of becoming a living work of art. I will probably not achieve that but I’ll be sure to have fun in the process. That takes us to the essence of the thing. Clothing and dressing up is fun. I sometimes forget that but ultimately it comes to the foreground. The satisfaction you can get from finding just the right combination of clothes is akin to many of the other greatest pleasures in life. When you just look in the mirror and see the pieces of the puzzle falling into place perfectly. That’s already worth waking up for a new day. Though I figure I ultimately dress for myself, it’s also been great to see how much enjoyment other people can get from all this. I’ve encountered all kinds of reactions ranging from just bizarre to super excited. I’ve recounted this one encounter already quite a few times to my fellow Anglicans but it’s worth telling once more. Last November I was walking from the university to the city centre and was stopped by a woman. She started by saying: “I just have to stop you because I think you are the most stylish man I have ever seen”. We chatted for a little while there but what really struck me about her words was actually what she said, visibly very excited, when we parted: “It all fits so well together”. The best compliment I’ve ever heard.
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I’ve amassed more shoes, clothes and accessories than I could have ever imagined during these four and a half years and had a huge amount of fun with them. There’s hardly a day when I feel like it’s a chore to dress the way I do. I love this nonsensical hobby and I hope to keep it just that – nonsensical. Elegantly yours, Teemu Helenius
Our Buddy from Bangladesh - Meet Anglica’s Resident Neurosurgeon Joni Järvinen
Life is full of surprises and unpredictable events. When a small boy was born in Dhaka, Bangladesh, no one could have predicted that one day he would become both an aspiring neurosurgeon and a member of Anglica. It seems it was destined that the paths of our student organization and Iftakhir “Ifti” Hossain would cross eventually. We first met him at Anglica's International Hangout, where he joined our ranks, despite the fact that he does not study English. After that, he has participated in many of our events. But who is Ifti and how did he end up becoming our member? To answer the question, we have to know something about his past. Ifti didn't always have his sights on becoming a neurosurgeon. Rather, he was nudged on that path by a dramatic event in his life. In 2004, Ifti was involved in a bike accident, just after graduating from high school. “We had just completed the final exam and wanted to celebrate. We were young and crazy. My friend had a bike and we decided to go out for a ride. Unfortunately, there was too much speed and at one point he lost control of the bike.” The accident was serious. Ifti suffered major injuries and was left with spinal trauma. But he was very lucky; Ifti was quickly rushed to the hospital and the best neurosurgeon in the country, emeritus professor Rashiduddin Ahmad, operated on him that same night. Although he survived the accident, what followed was very tough. Recuperating took six months and it was mentally draining. Ifti had always been very ambitious in setting goals and reaching them, but suddenly many people in his life kept telling him that it was all over. The challenges to overcome were far too great and there was no point in dreaming anymore. But perhaps surprisingly, hope came from someone new in his life: the same neurosurgeon who had already saved Ifti once. And now he would do it again. Dr. Ahmad met Ifti many times after the operation to make sure he was getting better. But he was not only worried about Ifti’s physical health. He also saw that this young man, who had heard from many that he had nothing ahead of him, needed some encouragement to help him pull through the difficulties. Dr. Ahmad had brought neurosurgery to Bangladesh, and now he saw something special in Ifti.
“Dr. Ahmad really inspired me. He offered me mental support. He advised me that as neurosurgery saved my life, I should go on that path and become a neurosurgeon. I felt the same.” And indeed, already in 2005, Ifti enrolled in medical school. He and Dr. Ahmad kept in contact throughout the years, and the top neurosurgeon had become not only a valuable mentor, but a dear friend. After graduating, Ifti started working in a neurosurgical clinic under the supervision of Dr. Ahmad. It soon became clear to Ifti that neurosurgery truly was his passion. He wanted to become better and specialize further. However, there was one hindrance in his way: Bangladesh is not a wealthy country and its population is almost 160 million. One major problem, that very populated countries face, is infectious diseases. Most of the health budget is used to tackle that problem. There is very little money available for specialties like neurosurgery. Bangladesh was at least 30 years behind the developed countries in terms of medical equipment and technology. This meant that Ifti would have to go abroad to further hone his skills in neurosurgery. Dr. Ahmad had studied in Edinburgh, so it felt natural for Ifti as well to leave for the United Kingdom. Ifti passed the British medical licence process and moved to London. However, after only two months, he was told that new immigration policies meant specializing in neurosurgery was only available to the English. Therefore, Ifti was forced to move back to Bangladesh. But then a modest Finnish man came to his rescue. A neurological congress was held in New Delhi, India, which Ifti and Dr. Ahmad naturally participated. But so did Juha Hernesniemi, a world-renowned neurosurgeon, a pioneer of his profession. Dr. Ahmad introduced Ifti to Dr. Hernesniemi, who immeadiately embraced him. “Dr. Hernesniemi hugged me and asked me what I wanted to be. I answered, that I wanted to be a neurosurgeon and specialize in a good country. He gave me his email address and told me that he would help.” Ifti says, that it is not uncommon for top neurosurgeons to be a bit smug. That's why he had to ask Dr. Ahmad, if the man he just met was really the famous Dr. Hernesniemi, because he didn't seem arrogant at all. “Dr. Ahmad replied: He is a Finnish guy. They are quiet and humble”, Ifti says laughing. 29
And that is how, with his new contact, Ifti ended up in Turku after a long process with the public authorities. Ifti became a PhD student and received a place in a research group at TYKS. He has no wife or children, so the move to another country was relatively easy. Of course he misses his parents and friends who were left behind. But his goal of becoming a neurosurgeon guided him strongly. “If you want to do something, go for it. If you want to do something, you will succeed with patience. Both Dr. Ahmad and Juha Hernesniemi said this.” This leads us to why it was Anglica that drew Ifti's attention. First, many of Ifti's colleagues are much older than him, circling around the age of 50, and the conversations revolve around disease in the hospital. Ifti missed the company of people closer to his own age and wanted to talk about everyday life. Second, it is very improtant for him to learn Finnish, so that he can communicate with the patients at the hospital. Anglica was able to offer him both of the things that he was lacking. “Anglicans are internationally minded and speak good English. With them, I can learn about the Finnish culture. It is important that I'll be able to intergrate into the society, because I don't know for how long I'll be here. I must not isolate myself from the Finns.” Finding new friends in a new and unfamiliar country can sometimes be hard. One day someone sent Ifti a link to the Facebook event of Anglica’s International Hangout. The event text welcomed everyone, and it was clear that people from different countries would participate. Therefore, Ifti decided to participate. And he has not regretted that decision. Ifti asked if he could be a member and heard the word “tervetuloa”, which he says made him very happy. Ifti also appreciates our country. He especially likes the quality of healthcare and how everyone, rich or poor, receives the same high level of medical treatment. Unfortunately, this is not the case in Bangladesh. The more money you have, the better treatment you get. “But I also like the how punctual Finns are. If a meeting starts at 8 am, it means 8 am. In Bangladesh that can mean the meeting starts at 10 am. Finns are also very helpful and friendly. I feel welcome.” It is clear that Ifti is very grateful to be here, and to have the opportunity to better himself and pursue a career in neurosurgery; an endeavour he decided to embark on after a frightening experience.
The man himself.
However, even though the first tragedy of his life helped him find his passion, the second one did not offer anything but sadness: This March Ifti lost a major influence in his life and a beloved friend, when Dr. Ahmad passed away at the age of 79. Without him, Ifti might not be here with us today, pursuing his dream. Not only did Dr. Ahmad give Bangladesh a chance by being its pioneer of neurosurgery, but he gave Ifti a chance by saving his life and guiding him through the difficulties towards a life as a neurosurgeon. Determined to succeed, Ifti's aspiration is to be a fully specialized neurosurgeon in 2022. After that, he is not entirely sure what he will do. He might stay here, but he would also like to help his country. He would like to continue what his mentor started, and help develop the field of neurosurgery in Bangladesh. Perhaps that way he can give a chance to people in need of help, the way he needed it after the accident in 2004. But for now I am interested to know, if we will see him in the future events of Anglica. He assures me that we will. “I'm already in love with Anglica.”
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Just One More Round: AGC in a Nutshell Johannes Suoranta
Just another Saturday night
Gaming is a very common past time as far as past times go, and as far as Anglica is concerned, we have a fair number of so-called gamers in our ranks. Gamers of various tastes, backgrounds and skillsets, all getting together for one purpose which is…well, getting together with their fellow Anglicans. That is Anglica Gaming Crew, the very real threat for social life, sports and especially writing essays and/or preparing for exams. The group has been active for a while a now, and we even have our own Mumble-server for voice communications and otherwise a fierce will to win. I consider AGC’s genesis being (for me, at least!) the spring of 2014, when the ever-so-fabulous Kalle “KinGMoilA23” Hellonen approached me with these very special Facebook instant messages: “Yo man, I heard ya are packin’ some serious steel if you know what I mean.” “Why yes, I do have a reasonably well-equipped personal computer, as per the modern standards of interactive video games.” “Bitchin’! Ya wanna pull some sweet 187’s with mechs and shit, boy?” “Titanfall? I have not heard of that particular game, nor do I have much experience with the first person shooter genre, but by Jove, I could give it a go!” “Mmmh, we’ll take ‘em to church fo’ shizzle mah nizzle!” “We shall give them hell, sir…”
The thing is, I did not really know Kalle back then. Sure I knew of him, but I did not necessarily consider him a close friend. Titanfall changed all that. We spent many long evenings in front of our respective computers, drinking coffee and whiskey and beer and just getting to know each other via Skype. I got to know his family, friends, ice hockey injuries and anything else in between. If you do a 4-hour gaming session the dead space between gloating after kills and cursing after dying kind of has to be filled with something that is not related to the game at all. After a few of these sessions I think Kalle and I really became close friends. And you know what? He was not the only one. After Titanfall kind of petered out I somewhat drifted for a bit. Then, later the same year my friend Atte “Atteable” Machonen asked me if I would like to try Borderlands 2 with two other people, you know, play the story mode through on a 4-player co-op. Ville “Wakantanka” Oi!rola and Saku “Saulhound” Holyhandgranade were people I once again more or less knew of, but did not know them well. You might guess where I am going with this? Nowadays not a single 24-hour period goes by without some manner of contact with them. And after a brief 27 hours spent on Borderlands 2 came what now fills most of my gaming time: Heroes of the Storm. I initially was not even interested in it, it was a MOBA (multiplayer online battle arena) style game 31
after all, and to my knowledge they are generally populated with squeaky-voiced pre-teens hell-bent on having sexual relations with the woman who gave birth to me. That part later turned out to be true, but let’s ignore it for a space. What is important that I got 4 beta keys for the game and offered them in the AGC’s Facebook group, Tuomas “Quiru” Cadilac was interested and took one of the keys. If you have not picked up the pattern already, I really did not know Tuomas at the time, but we got into HotS big time. Two complete noobs scrambling for kills and Regeneration Globes, and really got to know each other in the process. Same thing happened later with Mikko “misu” Whispynen. HotS is a pretty big part my life now, it’s a way to relax, hang out with friends and to take my mind of things in general. Gaming Crew’s first LAN-party, LANglica 2016, also happened earlier this year, with a massive turnout of one actual PC (besides my own), but with more enthusiasm than I could ever had hoped for. We played HotS, Insurgency, Tapan kaikki 2…you name it. It was a blast, and something I hope to turn into an actual Anglican event later on. Streaming on Twitch.tv is also something many gamingcrewians, including yours truly, has gotten themselves into. For me, it is a way to convey the fun we are having whilst playing, although it is always nice to display a sick 3-point Globe of Annihilation. Anyone not in the know what streaming is in this context, it basically means that you sit down and watch others broadcasting live footage of their game (sounds boring, but it’s really not, kinda exhilarating to be honest!).
This is the ”lani”life. 32
Maybe this is a good place to stop, before I lose all of my cool guy points. I will nevertheless provide a theme-appropriate item: here’s a QR-code which will take you directly to my Twitch profile, so you too can keep on enjoying the AGC lifestyle. Keep on constructing additional pylons! - Johannes “Tessuli” Marshy
Räkälä Reportage Atte-Ville Makkonen
“Räkäläs” or inexpensive bars are an important part of Finnish culture. I have visited some before doing this reportage, but never during the daytime. We decided to have a drink at one of the most well knows places in Turku. The place didn't end up being as hardcore as we thought. Luckily, the night took a good turn! We step into the bar. There's three of us: the editor himself, that one guy who helped me write last year, and I. It's around 4 p.m. on Monday and the sun is shining. As we enter, a man in his fifties steps out into the street having a phone call with a cigarette in hand. He grabs the door handle for support. Inside, three middle-aged women occupy a table opposite to the bar counter. The one who is sitting in the middle has clearly spent some time there already, as she is visibly drunk. The bar is called Bambu [sic] Garden. It is located near the Turku bus station and it is next-door neighbours include a strip place called Geisha and the sex shop Copacabana. We are indeed in a “räkälä”.
trouble believing we are actually eligible to buy alcohol. We soon decide to move onto The WaterLoo. As we are sitting down with our drinks, an employee comes to us with some paper and asks if we would like to take part in their pub quiz. After some hesitation, we accept the challenge. After the first round of questions we're behind the winning team by one point. On the second round, however, we're on fire. Even the employee says something about a wild round when he brings back our answer paper. The third round ends in a tie. The winner is decided by a question about the energy content of a certain type of cheese. Our guess is closer to the correct answer so we win the pub quiz, and the hand-made voucher of 20 €. We buy three drinks with it right away, of course. What a nice way to spend your Monday and procrastinate.
We order our drinks and walk into the karaoke room that has recently been renovated. The walls are white. There are mirrors and pictures of James Dean and Elvis Presley on the walls. The sofas are yellow and very shiny, almost golden. The tables are metallic and they have loads of scratch marks on them. There are three slot machines in the corner. Only one of them is occupied. Seven people are playing poker around a large table. As we walk past the table, one of the men says something about “young guys”. I soon notice that we are indeed the only customers in the bar that seem to be younger than 40. We sit down and look around us. There is hardly anything happening. There’s a man reading a newspaper, a woman silently focusing on her drink, and a couple discussing something. The group around the large table is still playing poker. From time to time one of them says something so loudly that we can hear it. For example, he sings the Finnish Eurovision song from last year (he doesn’t remember the lyrics very well) and asks his friends: “Do I look like a homo?!” We hear the bar is much more lively in the evening. There is karaoke every day of the week at 8 p.m. Soon we decide it’s time to leave. Bambu Garden didn’t have any aggressive drunks though, which was a bit disappointing. The rest of the story does not have anything to do with räkäläs. It’s still worth telling because we ended up doing something we didn’t anticipate. After our rather inconsequential adventure we decide to go to another nearby bar called Sir Okke’s Pub. We have a quick drink there and chat a bit. Some drunk men (who mention they’re at the bad very often) try to make contact. One of them has
Lucky winner.
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Was There a Decision? (from Car: a Coma) Päivi T. Tua
The final solution or is it? kitten’s rooster, I can’t go on how does one make capital letters This is capital, not with a whimper but with a bang, L-M, you are my sweetheart jolly jumper, at couch, good raw hardcore I am yours, now and forever raw oatmeal it the boudoir of the Devil Good beer. Good raw veggiepastry. Good energy levels. Good typing. At Thursday I am hers, mine again your face has visited the gutter and came back and after all is solely purple sandwich king of cups I am everything except that movie I am a silent radio drama whiskey is delayed like an aubergine springroll whispers I am the night, but it doesn’t matter because eli koska I am my horse I toil for my life! reluctantly Den här mörder masteren är forssad att byta sidorna they endeded take you fifth circle with glowing eyes: you don’t know what they are going to do I’m too terrified to make a guess velum trembles they bury their faces blade flashes pigs cheap-ass James Bond you are me or Willy or Mike or Juicy you are who you are, the most important thing is to exist as a zero man måste ofta tänka på heåligheter och dessa fåglar, the shapes lingering by the water’s edge, let Hell ring and echo! bugs is bäst but I won’t sink into it, won’t place it to my neck, only myself…WASDSWADaaadswads what no ok never mind life’s not a game like we thought luckily Nexus connects us all hear my call I’m running from the darkness agaaaaaaain on the other hand, why not, because sometimes life is food and that’s that tragedy in itself such a storehouse of knowledge. So close, but just out of reach. As a student of the arts, you understand me, yes? c-c-c-c-c-c there’s music, fight club I’m not a composer but one can always fight if one loses show me your face Uuno Kailas I’m ready to hear watch out for the balloon, because 34
it speaks words of evil to you and to others I don’t use fat or sugar other th an what I get from my food or noooooot Nicholas, you devil, there is no escaping you 14/22 Hell of Satan t-t-t-t-t-tekiiilaa am I the only one hearing this? crack my neck tell everyone how I fought back or didn’t Guggenheim what do we need you for goldled person wou could you maybe speak in Finnish for a space and as you see here, this is the clock which we use of course (what else?) besides you and a couple of tins of beer (and maybe a knife) deposit excrement at my grave poemgranate juice either explicitly or unexplicitly whom next it is playing loud and I am playing loud and everything is ringing loud my hors”e”s meals exit stake left west is calling with its red glare, Marcus Glare even though he was originally from Japan coitus (from last year) I still think about it every day days were longer as a child now there’s too many of them but not milk or bile it is my turn now I walk through the lolium or you, wau truthfulness is a mirage, like me, sugar Descartes is still in the wrong but Bentham is spinning in a watchtower everything before that god of Berkeley sees all and watches for his amusement but does he see when I disappear? what phone do you have…