Iliana Valles Moreno

Back to summer issue 2004

But I refused to feel lonely. I decided toembark on blissful research to meet some of these exotic creatures - and to find out what had brought them to Helsinki, and what their backgrounds, interests and relationship to the University were. This is what I found.

Café con Tango

He appears energetic. His eyes, expressive. His Spanish, better than mine. Next Monday, he will be off to Costa Rica and Peru so he phones the bookstore to get extra copies of his Café con Tango (1999), a propos the historical links between Finland and Latin America. Jussi Pakkasvirta, PhD, a Karelian fascinated by Latin America, has worked at the Ibero-American Center in the Renvall Institute since 1989.

One of his first stops was revolutionary Nicaragua of the 1970s - his yearning for the insurgent "coffee brigades" he took part in is obvious. "1920s intellectuals like Vasconcelos and Mariátegui shaped my thinking, as did the populist nature of Latin American politics," he admits. In his book Un continente, una nación? Pakkasvirta also supports Benedict Anderson's theory that Creole nationalisms are older than their European counterpart.

So, when it comes to parallels, Pakkasvirta has a crystal clear opinion. "Take a Finnish and a South American peasant, and there you'll see similarities: they drink loads of alcohol, they're both shy and well-intentioned." Besides, Finland is "the world's biggest coffee and banana consuming country, and Latin America the biggest producer of them. And then there is Mika Häkkinen who is a red-hot name to Latin F1 fans."

Very convincing, but stereotypes can be more intricate. I wonder what, besides café con tango, does Latino mean to a Finn? "Well, many Finns - not me - think that Latinos are a bit lazy, disorganised, bureaucratic, and that their politics are slightly irrational." I was prepared for a meaner stab. "However, the first true contact between Finland and Latin America was in 1973, when a few Chilean citizens fled Pinochet´s regime to Finland. Since then, the Brazilian carnival, the Mexican revolution and gastronomy, Costa Rican coffee and Columbian drug-trafficking and guerrillas have reached wider fame."

"After so many winters abroad, part of my soul is Latin," Jussi confesses. He hopes that more Finns would take an interest in the region. "Personally, understanding my own culture became easier, seeing it from the other side of the Atlantic."

Friends and foes

At the age of 23, Argentinean Gabriela left her home in Buenos Aires to work in Washington DC. Once there, a friendly Finnish girl dragged her all the way to Helsinki to learn about her culture. In Finland she also met her future husband. Her friend Adrián comes from San José, Costa Rica; where he earned a scholarship to Germany to study the language. That, he confesses, was nearly impossible to do in a classroom. Outside the classroom, he got to practice German slang with other foreigners, and met his Finnish wife. After travelling widely, Adrián and Gabriela ended up in Helsinki with their respective partners, where they both enrolled on a Forest Economics degree programme at the University of Helsinki. "We study the same subject and make a good team," Gabriela says.

For them, overcoming some obvious differences was a matter of luck and attitude. Their friendship has not suffered any major difficulties because of them. "Latin Americans are expressive, although some can be more conservative than others," Gabriela admits. True: even if united by a colonial past and the corollaries of the Monroe Doctrine, one need not be a genius to spot our disparities. History has witnessed our regional rivalries emerge and disperse. But, who are our Latin foes?

"Nicaraguans!" Adrián snaps laughing. Seriously speaking, he considers <i>Ticos</i>, Costa Ricans, to be more liberal than the neighbouring nations. "When the coffee industry skyrocketed, Costa Rica became very affluent. That wealth drove us to isolation." The country has also suffered civil wars and petty dictatorships, but according to Adrián, a socialist regime matured and healed the poverty that our neighbours still suffer from."

Because of their attributed arrogance, Argentineans enjoy an indisputable place in Latin humour. "Yes, you can say we are arrogant," Gabriela consents. Argentinean economic success fuelled its active role in regional politics, and thereby projected the country internationally. "And tango does its bit too," Gabriela exclaims.

Consequently, Argentina has gained both friends and foes over time - and overseas. "Our rivalries with Brazil are only economic while with Chile the dispute is over national borders. The Falkland Islands' flop in 1982 did not wound my generations' ego, but the lack of respect towards war veterans was shameful."

What Argentineans are experiencing is, perhaps, an identity problem. "We are not fully Latinos - city dwellers in particular can be quite dour and we are imprinted with Italian influence - but when we visit the US or Europe, we're 'simply' Latin. That could explain the need to stand out at home."

All in all, Gabriela is perhaps not the best example. "I have almost lost my accent and adore Brazilian food," she says. "It's true," Adrián backs her, "she doesn't even like soccer!"

Although our political speeches tend to swing from the celebration of love to hatred, such is the condition of all neighbourly relations. And so, speaking of friends, foes and mutual concerns, our two-hour-long chat rambled from genetically-modified corn and poverty to democratic corruption, Adrián's coinage alluding to illegal money draining downwards, which allegedly makes Latin American corporate theft "more generous and participatory, or democratic".

Style in the city

Costa Rican Florencia Quesada is a graduate school researcher at the Renvall Institute. Her first visit to Finland was in 1999. Soon after, her postgraduate studies at the Sorbonne anchored her in Paris for 3 years. At the moment, she is working on a comparative study between her native San José and Ciudad de Guatemala.

Florencia praises Helsinki's standard of living and its convenient size, making it free from traffic jams or pollution. One can also do things you could not afford with regard to time in Paris nor in San José. Is there anything Florencia dislikes about living here? "Well, you know the answer." I do. "Six months of winter is excessive for a tropical creature like me," she says.

Forget Paris, she should not miss her home city, the "Bern of Central America" any less. "Actually, that's the topic of my study: San José's 'Swissness' is a myth," she says. Florencia intends to unravel how such an idea came to be so popular. "My home city is beautiful but chaotic as there was no urban planning when it was constructed. It is not an easy city to live in."

Instead, Quesada extols Helsinki's aesthetics, inspired by the Nordic functionalism of the 1960s which coincided with the city's expansion. The Scandinavian simplicity present in objects and furniture is very pleasing to her eye. "But when it comes to fashion I want to keep my own style," she chuckles.

For this globetrotter, there are as yet no plans in sight to leave "Helsinki headquarters". After her incessant travelling, Florencia reckons that being an alien is hard regardless of the city. "One just has to pull down cultural barriers and handle the new cultural codes." And despite the long distance from her roots, family and friends becoming costly, she stresses the good sides of Helsinki. "If it was summer all year round, it would be perfect!"

Son, Salsa, Silverio

Ramón Silverio left Havana 12 years ago when his band was invited to play at the Pori Jazz Festival. The Cuban took the golden opportunity to leave the battered island and stayed.

Although he has studied choreography, theatre and folk dance (and "learnt the rest in the streets") it is evident when he dances that he was also born under a certain star. He has worked as a salsa instructor at the University of Helsinki for the past 5 years, where he started first as a substitute - apparently as soon as they saw him move the job was his.

Silverio values the skills and discipline of his Finnish students who learn the most intricate salsa steps. Indeed, I was amazed to witness a not-for-beginners class which, with a little parental pride, Silverio explained had achieved the level from scratch, in 9 months. By the second year, he says, they could start giving lessons themselves!

Marika, his current business and dancing partner, abandoned Flamenco to learn Silverio's art. Because he also enchants students with Cuban culture, Marika believes that his programme is the most comprehensive one can find in Finland.

For the Cuban, dancing is not the only rewarding activity. He also leads the Finnish-Cuban Silverio Misón orchestra. Although salsa arrived in Finland only 20 years ago, the level of Finnish musicians he works with is outstanding. Silverio also trains female salsa groups. "First I spot the talent, then design the salsa routines, and offer the final product to companies."

Dancer, musician, manager, this man cannot stay still! Still oozing with enthusiasm and expressiveness, these 13 years in Finland have also taught him to enjoy solitude, and become more responsible. "One has to show a good example to students. In theory that may sound easy, but in reality standing out is tough, especially when most Latinos are stereotyped. That, evidently, is far from accurate: we all have very different mentalities. Surely, not everybody shares my views."

Dancing may seem relaxing, but Silverio shows no indulgence. There lies the key, he thinks, that draws over 150 students to his Vallila studio every week. "I would also like to give summer courses at the University of Helsinki and develop joint cultural and musical projects with other Latinos."

Distance aside, uncommonness is the karma of being a Latin American in Helsinki. So, whenever I attend a student event in Europe, I turn out to be the only (and lonely) Latina from Finland, to everyone's surprise. "Helsinki! How did you end up there?" I hear nine and a half times out of ten. I reply, already a little tired of my beaten storyline, that especially when it drops to -20 centigrade, I ask myself the same question.

JoinRamón Silverio's salsa classes at the University of Helsinki: www.helsinki.fi/yliopistoliikunta. For additional courses visit www.kolumbus.fi/salsadecuba

Iliana Valles Moreno is a Venezuelan student at the Department of Sociology, University of Helsinki.