Not everyone would consider the opportunity to climb down an icy ladder into the frigid waters of a frozen lake the epitome of a “warm welcome” to a new culture, but in Finland that’s exactly what it is. Talk about an immersive experience! Last week the wonderful staff at Fulbright Finland organized for us new scholars and teachers an orientation—two days packed with intellectual and cultural invigoration—to help us begin to understand the context in which we find ourselves: Representatives from the primary and secondary school system, traditional universities and “universities of applied science” gave us overviews of their institutions; we learned “10,000 years of Finnish history in 40 minutes” from a high school history teacher with a dry sense of humor; and overcame any fear of the Finnish language in Heidi Toivonen’s cheerful, energetic and effective lesson. We visited the impressive EMMA museum of modern art courtesty of the Saastamoinen Foundation, and the glorious Sibelius Upper Secondary School where students study music and dance and where many of them generously performed for us—the seniors wearing togas, because they were celebrating their last day of formal classes; the rest of the year is dedicated to studying for their matriculation exam. But for me, the chance to test my will and fortitude by “winter swimming” was the high point. In a beautiful old villa on the shore of a pine-circled lake, more than a dozen Fulbrighters and staff members piled into the sauna. Being Americans, we chatted away probably far more loudly than a similar group of Finns would do in that setting. And then in giddy groups, coached by our new Finnish friends, we tucked our feet into slippers to protect them from the snow and ice, trotted down a long pier in our swimsuits, laughing in the dark. In the small circle of light provided by a flashlight, we took turns stepping out of our slippers, the adrenaline overcoming any hesitation, and climbing down the steps of a ladder through a hole in the ice into the black water. The first time I did it, I was shrieking in a breathless, semi-hysterical sort of way. After warming up again in the sauna, I tried again, determined to focus more and distract myself less by shouting. I haven’t found the right words to describe the sharpness of the water on my limbs, or to explain why something that is definitely painful is also exhilarating. I can see now why people do it often; the after-effects are like any hard physical activity that you do by choice—you feel proud of yourself for meeting the challenge; your body feels invigorated and the endorphins flow, so you get a sense of well-being, even happiness, as your reward. It's also social—in the sauna, Finns may sit silently or chat quietly after a “swim,” but there is no denying the sense of connection one feels to others even if you can barely see their faces in the dark recesses of the hot room. Finland is not the only place in the world where this is a regular practice—I’ve heard from friends in Minnesota that they too go winter swimming at their cabins on the lake—but perhaps that is not surprising given the Nordic heritage of so many folks there. Here it seems to be an important piece of the culture, something our hosts wanted us to experience. Introducing us to the practice, providing us with the chance to try it, even holding the hands of those who were scared, our new Finnish friends gave us the opportunity to learn something bone deep about life here. The extremes of heat and cold—sauna and frozen lake—provide our minds and bodies with relaxation and challenge. The practice requires individual will power and rewards us with communal connections. Embracing all of this brings physical and mental rewards that allow us not only to endure but to thrive in a harsh climate. As I begin to think about the health humanities in the Finnish context, I’m realizing that my learning will not be just through reading books and articles, or by talking to scholars about their work. I can already see that coming to understand something as simple as what people in a different culture mean by “feeling healthy” is going to require “experiential learning” as much as anything else. I am happy to take the plunge.
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