Fake it till you make it (I arrive)
The flight from Chicago to Helsinki was more than 90% empty. Maybe 30 people were on board the newly retrofitted Airbus A330, which can hold 400. I was upgraded to priority class. "Check it out," said the gate agent, "and let us know what you think."
Language is a problem. Given how few resources are available for Estonian-language learners, I did not expect a frictionless experience. Still, I need to be better. You have to earn it. Nobody invited me here, and I hate being that guy who begins every conversation with a half-hearted English query. I got bread at the grocery store and forgot to enter the numerical code and apply the sticker. Not a language thing, just fatigue. The first day is the bottom of a ladder.
Pandemic-wise, everything is changing fast in Europe. I think France's entry requirements relaxed while I was in the air. I asked my landlord if I needed to show proof of vaccination to get into public places, and he said no.
"When did that change?" I asked.
"It was weird. Like in the last few days."
He had Pohjala beers in the fridge for me. Think you know how to pronounce "Pohjala"? You don't. Nobody does, except this small happy national family, and I hope to wheedle my way into their good graces in the next 336 hours.
