Tallinn, Estonia

Inari and I took a two-day trip from Helsinki to Tallinn, Estonia. Tallinn is about 3 hours away by ferry, and a crazy ferry ride it is. Estonia has become something of a weekend getaway for Finns for a variety of reasons: it’s cheaper, it’s familiar but foreign, and because you can buy duty-free alcohol on the ferries. This latter point is very important because alcohol is highly taxed in Finland.

Estonia has traditionally been something of a sister country to Finland. The languages and cultures are very similar, and there has been a lot of trading between the countries throughout the years. This was put to halt for about 60 when Estonia was occupied by the Soviet Union, but has resumed in recent years. The relationship has changed though, and the wounds of the communist days have not healed completely. I think the relationship can be compared to a situation in which one sibling is locked up and abused for years, and the other is unable to help (how could Finland free Estonia from the Soviet Union?) and of course feels very bad about the situation. Estonia suffered some very difficult times that it is still unable to openly discuss, so you can imagine that there is some awkwardness between Estonia and Finland. This is not helped by the fact that many Finns traveling to Estonia assume that Estonians living in Tallinn can speak Finnish, which is often true, for they were able to watch Finnish television during the Soviet days, but is probably not the best way to rejuvenate an old relationship. At the moment, Estonians probably feel closer to Latvians and Lithuanians since they had common histories during a very difficult time period.

Tallinn is one of the oldest cities in northern Europe, first mentioned in text in the 1100’s. A wall was built around the city in the early 1300’s or so; much of the wall and old buildings are still standing. Tallinn has been conquered and re-conquered many times, but somehow survived every battle. The Soviets were content to let Tallinn fall to ruins, leaving many of the buildings in a state of disrepair. But Tallinn persevered, and is now having a re-birth that started with the end of communism. I found it to be a very interesting conglomeration of history: some very old buildings that have stood for centuries, some very modern buildings that have been built in the past 15 years, and everywhere scars of communism.

Joulu suomessa (Christmas in Finland)

I've spent the past week experiencing Christmas the Finnish way, which is to say, eating lots of food and visiting with Inari's family and friends. In that regard, Christmas here is the same as in the States. But there are many differences as well. For one, Finns seem to have many more traditional Christmas foods than Americans. Christmas tort, Christmas salad, Christmas beer, etc. My personal favorite is glögi, a spiced wine served hot with almonds and raisins (in the wine). What a nice drink for a cold, dark winter day! This year I also survived my first encounter with lipeäkala, aka lutefisk. I was a little disappointed to realize that lipeäkala is edible; that's not to say that it tastes good, but it's just not that bad, especially with an appropriate amount of white sauce.

One Finnish tradition that I really appreciate is "pikkujoulu" or literally, "little Christmas". A fuller translation would say that pikkujoulu is a small gathering (or party) held to thank friends for the good times that they've had over the past year. But it's not necessarily just one party; in one given year you might attend many different pikkujoulus and host a few yourself. During pikkujoulu, you, of course, serve traditional Christmas foods (snacks) and drinks, and maybe sing some Christmas songs.

Hyvää joulua ja onnelista uutta vuotta! (Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!)

Speaking Finnish

My Finnish is not very good - rudimentary at best. But after spending four days with Inari's grandparents, who don't know a word of English, I feel a renewed desired to learn more. I spent more than one morning in the kitchen with them (while Inari was sleeping) trying to explain very simple ideas. I think they occasionally understand me (no, I don't drink coffee; yes, I'd like some cheese), but more often than not we just looked at each other in complete confusion and threw our arms up in the air. "Oh, it's not important. It's ok."

And, though Finns generally speak English quite well, they are obviously more comfortable speaking Finnish, which means that I'm often left out of discussions. Sometimes I can pick out a few words to understand the general context, and if I'm lucky somebody will summarize the conversation in English. But most of the time I just pretend to be a stereotypical Finnish male: quiet. Not that I expect them to speak English, I'm just happy that they can speak English.

Onward to Finland

My stop in Minneapolis lasted longer than I intended; thanks to bad weather in Chicago my flights were delayed and I left a day later. The trip to Finland was miserable for various reasons, but I finally made it late Saturday night and am now suffering from jet lag, as usual.

I'm looking forward to having some down time. Even though my time in Minneapolis was vacation, I was quite busy meeting up with people and travelling around. The nice thing about vacationing in Finland is that I feel at home, but I don't have to worry much about work or meeting up with people. Basically I just go wherever Inari goes, but only if I feel like it.

It's interesting how one's perception of a place changes with time. Each time I've come to Finland I've come with a better grasp of the Finnish language, which isn't saying much, but more importantly, I'm less ashamed of saying something stupid. Also, certain things become familiar and "normal", but that's not to say they make sense. For example, why are the light switches for the bathrooms on the outside of the rooms? Is it so that kids can turn the lights off on their siblings while they're sitting on the toilet? Why don't strangers who pass on an empty street say "hello"? And if they do, why are they considered drunk, crazy, or American? Why do Finns always wait for a walk signal when crossing an intersection, even if there aren't any cars for miles? Maybe someday I'll have the answer's to these deep questions of life.

First publication

The manuscript that I eluded to in earlier posts has finally been accepted for publication in the Journal of Geophysical Research - Earth Surface. Since many people have asked me how the publication process works, I thought I'd try to explain it - but in a broader context (how does science "work"?).

First, you have to figure out what questions to ask about your particular field; this is fairly natural and usually stems directly from your previous work. Then you have to figure out a creative way to investigate those questions, and of course, find a funding agency willing to support your work. For glaciology, the funding sources are typically the National Science Foundation or NASA, but there are other options. You must then write a proposal (usually with other investigators) and submit it to the funding agency. The proposal goes through a review panel consisting of scientists in the same field and in related fields. They ultimately choose which projects will be funded.

If your project is funded, you usually receive two to three years of support; the amount of money you receive depends on the nature of the project. After you conduct your research, you are expected to publish it in a peer-reviewed journal. This is crucial if you hope to continue in academics, make tenure, or continue receiving funding.

The peer-review process is science's attempt at objectivity, and usually it works well. But as I have learned from my own experience and from others' stories, there is a certain amount of politics and personal agendas that are difficult to avoid. Even though we as scientists are taught to separate our opinions from our work, it is sometimes difficult to hear somebody else tell you that what you've worked on for the past 5 years is a bunch of crap. So naturally, some (but definitely not all) scientists develop egos and hold grudges.

At any rate, after conducting your research, you typically write a 12-15 page paper and submit it to an appropriate journal. A scientific editor with the journal (usually a researcher in the field) reads the paper and forwards it to two or three other people for review. The reviewers are not affiliated with the journal, and are typically faculty members or senior graduate students. They read the paper critically and raise a number of questions regarding the work. The editor then has the choice to (1) accept the paper as is, (2) accept it with minor revisions, (3) accept it with major revisions, or (4) reject it. Choice 2 usually involves minor wording changes that will be only be re-reviewed by the editor. Choice 3 may require substantial re-writing or re-analysis, and resubmittal usually results in the paper being sent back to the same reviewers. This can go through a couple of iterations until the paper is finally accepted. Rejection does not necessarily mean that the manuscript is "dead", but probably requires serious thinking about the work that you've done. If you choose to keep working on the paper, you may need to try submitting to a different journal, depending on the terms and reasons for rejection.

When your work is finally accepted for publication, you transfer copyright privileges to the journal, along with about $100 per page and up to $1000 for figures if they are in color (this money comes from grants, if there is no money the journal may waive the fee). The journal publishes the work, sends you "pre-prints" (which are essentially nice copies of your manuscript), and sells the journal to libraries and individuals. And then you wait to become famous. If you're particularly successful, you will receive phone calls from science reporters who will misinterpret your statements and write about your "results" in the newspaper. Then, of course, politicians take the newspaper articles and twist them to satisfy their own agenda, such that in the end you have little faith that the general public really understands the current state of science.

This is my third year of graduate school and I'm already jaded.

First stop: San Francisco

I survived my first trip to the American Geophysical Union (AGU) annual conference. I think survived is the correct word choice, since I felt a sense of relief when the conference ended (after enduring 5 days of poster sessions, talks, and schmoozing). Over 10,000 geophysicists attend this meeting, making it the largest geophysics meeting in the world, to the best of my knowledge. Although the goal of any scientific conference is to share ideas, this conference in particular is a great chance to meet up with old friends, and actually, I think many people attend for that reason alone. The other reason is to eat a lot of good food... Too much, perhaps.


San Francisco was a little overwhelming for me (especially at first), coming from Fairbanks. There are so many interesting places and people to observe, and the cultural diversity is exceptional. I was most struck by the large homeless population - it left me feeling guilty of my privileges (and as a student I'm not exactly rolling in the dough). In certain areas of town you could find homeless people on every street corner, and many of them seemed to have physical and/or mental disabilities. I feel inspired to become involved with the homeless shelter in Fairbanks - maybe by posting these words on the internet I will feel more compelled to do so.

While there, I met up with some old friends, including Jess, with whom I did a 6-week canoe in the Canadian arctic in summer 1998. He was a great host, picking me up at the airport on Sunday and taking me to the (supposedly) best breakfast in San Francisco, then on to Muir Woods, the coast, and dinner at some tasty Indian restaurant. On Saturday (our shared birthday) we went to the farmer's market, and then over to Berkeley to stroll around.


I also tried to experience a little culture (and wanted to make Inari jealous) so I went to the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. They had some nice exhibits, including many self-portraits of Chuck Close, some of which are usually displayed at the Walker Art Center in Minneapolis. The building itself was very interesting, and was part of larger art center that included a theater and other attractions.


It's difficult to express all the images and experiences from the week. It was fun, but also exhausting.

Half way around the world and back again

Sorry about the lack of updates lately - the last couple of weeks have been pretty hectic, between trying to make progress on my thesis (its essentially finished, though I won't defend until March), preparing a poster for the American Geophysical Union conference which is next week, and putting the finishing touches on the paper that is nearly accepted into the Journal of Geophysical Research. And then, of course, there is skiing, hockey, and playing hand drums and steel drums!

Over the next 7 weeks I'll be gone from Fairbanks, but I'll try to keep posting as I go, and hopefully put some more thought into the posts than I have recently (sorry). At the very least I'll put up some photos of my Fairbanks - San Francisco - Minneapolis - Helsinki - Mannheim - Helsinki - Fairbanks trip. I'm looking forward to this much needed break, though I do feel a little guilty taking such a long vacation. Once I'm back I'll start preparing for field work next summer in western Greenland!