Erasmus Student in a Pandemic: Helsinki Edition

Page 35 Study evidenced based examples of how you have developed your skills in the past and how you are excited to continue to develop them in this environment.

Too often people cringe at personal statements as they think they need to say they are the best at everything. But no, just be reflective and open, be honest and show integrity. Do your research!

Lots more details about how to write a great personal statement here https://www.tcd.ie/Careers/students/applying/statement.php

Where do you advise students to look for funding and financial aid for master’s? For taught master’s abroad, the individual university webpages are often the best place to start. Many universities will have scholarships or funding opportunities that are unique to them. Make sure to keep an eye on MyCareer each semester as there are often information sessions on funding and support in this regard. Also, check out our webpages which will signpost you to places like this one https://www.postgrad.com/fees_and_funding/ european-funding/student-funding-in-europe/ which are a great place to find out more.

Also, this Irish Times article gives a good overview of where to start within the Irish market, including governmental support: https://www.irishtimes.com/news/education/how-to-fund-your-postgraduate-education-1.3808692 .

With research master’s, again check the individual university website and with the local research bodies to see if you could avail of any funding opportunities.

Does the timing of your application matter? It depends on the master’s: some will close once they have enough applicants that they are happy to offer to, others won’t even look at the applications until after the closing date. Check the course info on their webpage. For the Wishlist phase, it’s never too early to start your research. But for the application phase, we would encourage you to look at your schedule and consider how you would feel if you started now or put it off a little. Your academic work needs to take priority but if applications are on your mind, carve out some time, just as you would for an assignment on your course and be methodical. Arguably the earlier you apply the better so that you can tick the box and relax but if possible, come to the table with a clear, reflective mind not a busy one!

Best of luck from all of us at the Careers Service!

By Mackenzie Elwood, JS Law and Political Science

To say that I have experienced survivor guilt is, I think, perhaps, an exaggeration. However, in the interest of dramatic effect for a snappy opening paragraph, this author is going to ride the wave of audacity.

My choice of Erasmus in Helsinki plucked me from a world in which the pillars of student life were rapidly collapsing and released me into a restriction-less reality where people ride the metro carefree, as though it is not a disease-ridden sardine tin built for the destruction of the human race. The process of getting on a plane

Study Page 36 in Dublin and landing in Helsinki was akin to following a white rabbit with a pocket watch and somersaulting down a hole in a blue pinafore.

My experience so far has been wonderful. Snow in November, cinnamon rolls, Christmas lights. Every form of Finnish accommodation boasts a sauna, and a full dinner in the canteen at University of Helsinki costs less than €4 with unlimited bread and salad. But although my tolerance of alcohol had decreased in lockdown over the summer, I was unprepared for how my tolerance of regularity had decreased with it. The swift reaction of Finland in the spring curbed the spread of the virus to a manageable rate such that the lockdown was lifted in the summer and life returned to normal. As of November 2020, Finland retains the lowest number of cases across the Nordic countries, and the wearing of masks in public places is merely a “recommended”, rather than a compulsory, measure.

I attended lectures in person for the first time since March, delirious with delight. I sat in public parks with the other students, drinking in disbelief. I ate in the canteen buffet in a haze of ecstasy. And every night or so, I would go home and talk to my family and friends about the steadily worsening situation in Ireland. Talking to those who had suffered cancelled Erasmus plans became an awkward cycle of wanting to tell them everything but also nothing. My mother sighed heavily and wistfully if I mentioned that I had popped to a café for a coffee. My senses were heightened. Living in the norm was like living on the edge. The international students of Helsinki were clinging to everyday life as though we were perched on the rim of a sink, about to plunge into the familiar but murky dishwater of coronavirus regulations. The adrenaline highs of living in the “old-norm” peaked, and we were forced to slide (albeit on a pair of skis) back down the slope.

In the same way that my Erasmus highs were enhanced by the pandemic, my lows bloomed like algae. In sum, the Finnish word for November, “Marraskuu” means “month of death” or simply “death”. A day of low mood and unenjoyment would be laced with feelings of unproductivity and wastefulness. There was no reason for me to feel low, I thought. Stop being miserable. It’s pathetic. But we were warned upon arrival (with a graph nonetheless) of how our mood would fluctuate naturally as the days grew shorter and the weather darker and wetter. December waits at the end of a dark, damp tunnel, where snow reflects the plentiful Christmas lights and joy in general.

The lack of restrictions in my communal student residence unfortunately caught up with me in early October, and I contracted Covid-19. My positive result interrupted the pure technicolour of my Erasmus life up until that point. But beyond having basic flu symptoms, my fortnight was fortunately tolerable. My flatmate contracted it at the same time, and we drew up stencils from cardboard and built the Helsinki cathedral out of gingerbread. Delicious and more intellectually, spiritually, and emotionally nutritious than 168 hours of Netflix. The most surprising aspect of my Covid-19 experience was probably my complete loss of sense of smell. For love nor money, I could not smell the gingerbread mixture (cloves, ginger spice, butter, the works), the Jägermeister (found in the freezer of our flat upon arrival), or the hand sanitiser (I regretted this one. It burned).

My quarantine was contrasted with some of the best days of my life to date. I met people from all over the world, in the unique position to understand exactly the curious roller coaster of what it means to be an Erasmus student in Finland in Corona-times. I have sung loudly, non-stop, at a “sit-sit” dinner table, drinking liquorice liquor and eating reindeer and cranberry sauce, with people I had never met before and will not meet again. I have sat by a lake drinking coffee and eating fresh cinnamon rolls, a pastry I had never been drawn to before I arrived here but can now declare myself an addict to. I dashed between the sauna and a golf course covered in fresh snow with absolutely no thoughts of pneumonia, hypothermia, or common decency. I have hunted for the Northern lights at 4pm, jumped in and out of the Arctic Circle, and fallen spectacularly into a snow drift. I met Santa. I am still recovering from the shock.

Page 37 Study I have not lived my life yet so I cannot conclusively say how life-changing or relevant any of this will be in the long run. In between these glimpses of the Emerald City, I dealt with a few slings and arrows of minor misfortune (cut to hoovering up a friend’s buff while cleaning up a kilo of rice that slipped from my grasp when I realised that the rice had caught in the charging port of my phone after I dropped it into the toilet, while running late for the bus in Lapland). But the opportunity to experience brief normality in the company of other people was precious.

The restrictions in Finland are increasing now as cases are rising, and I doubt that my second semester will be as liberating as my first. But perhaps it is about time that Dorothy woke up and Alice climbed out of the rabbit hole. I have had my cake and eaten it too; it was smothered in cinnamon and pearl sugar - and it was delicious.