A man's face was planted in the pavement, his butt stuck straight up in the air. His buddy called out to him in between sips of vodka. "Janne... Janne..."
Janne didn't move. He was fine, but fast asleep.
This was my first day in Finland. I'd moved to Helsinki for a girl in late August and had spent only a handful of hours in the country. Most of them were in our new neighborhood, Kallio. On that first afternoon she took me for a walk around our home on Vaasankatu. That's where we ran into Janne and his friend.
I learned later that Laura, my girlfriend, was nervous about my reaction. She wasn't entirely sure if I'd turn around and go back home.
In Kallio, you may see some sketchiness, but it's usually harmless shenanigans. From the guys at the Sörnäinen metro, to the ones who had too many beers at Roskapankki [a bar], nobody wants to mess with you. They just want to get drunk.

For us international students, the university inevitably shapes how we experience Finland. At the university, we are defined by our two most obvious statuses: international and student. Naturally then, we are grouped together (in the same programs and classes), and largely separated from our Finnish-speaking counterparts. Our closeness to one another has some advantages. We have almost remarkably easy access to people in the exact same situation as us, and the chance to form friendships with them. Because our studies are often stressful and the cultural context is new, this becomes invaluable for our sense of comfort in Finland.
My name is Siyanda (but if we've met already, I may have given you my first name, which is virtually impossible for non-Tswana people to pronounce due to the click in the middle of it) and I am a young African writer living in Helsinki. I write mainly humorous non-fiction but my day job is studying for a degree in pure mathematics in Botswana. I am here on holiday!
I found my professional calling in Finland as a corporate trainer and English teacher. In New York I worked in sales at various large companies and learned early on that selling anything to anyone meant quickly establishing credibility and likeability. You had to know your stuff and develop rapport.
I have been living in Helsinki for 2 years and it is only now that I am really starting to discover what lies beneath the surface. Each week I am taken to a new area by friends or hear about something that I never knew about and completely intrigues me. I have the urge to visit and experience everything Helsinki has to offer.
There is something comforting in waiting for a bus and knowing the minute it will arrive. Similarily, it's reassuring entering a bus and knowing the public transport etiquette and how things work. But maybe that's my opinion, because I'm one of them; one of the infamously silent Finns.
I was born in Helsinki and lived here like any normal Finnish child with typical hobbies (gymnastics, ballet, and that hilarious attempt at violin). I started school here and dreamed of that near-distant day when, as a sixth grader, I would take a trip to England with my friends.
Once I arrived in Finland, I could not believe such a friendly country and such friendly people existed on earth. I have lived both in Poland and the UAE for a long time and was expecting something similar; to live as an expat. Yet it seems that in Finland, there is no great difference between expat and citizen – here everyone is treated in the same way.