Soon it will be my second holiday season in this country. The snow’s already been on the ground for a while and the red line in the thermometer creeps ever so steadily towards the bottom. We are fighting a vicious fight to keep our snow pants away in the closet for as long as possible, though I think the pants will win somewhere around –10ºC or so. Just being downtown here in Oulu makes the song “Silver Bells” suddenly come to life.

From the outside looking in, Finland appears to be embracing its need for emigrant workers. On arrival you find numerous pamphlets that reassure you that services are there to make your integration smooth and seamless. You observe the sense and efficiency of the public services and assume that this standard of effectiveness will be applied in your case. Alas my experiences – and those of many emigrants like me – are not so.

Finland has been described as being one of the most egalitarian societies in the world. What’s yours can be mine and what’s mine will most likely be taxed up to the eyeballs so indirectly that it’s yours, too. On many levels it’s a system that works well, and everyone lives happily in a bubble of equality. Except, of course, when you are different.

“Mummy, Mummy, why is that lady so black?” I’ve heard a precious tot or two ask their mothers, who shush them with faces burning so bright that Rudolph would be put out. I beg to differ. I think I’m more of a caramel, perhaps café latte shade, thank you very much.

AFTER HAVING LIVED in Finland for three years I still get asked by acquaintances from all over the world – often with a scared tone of voice – how I manage with the darkness and the cold in winter. It seems that the Nordic winter triggers some deep-rooted horror, even in people who are well travelled. Even Finns have asked me how I cope with it, seeming to worry that the absence of a few sunshine hours might turn a non-Finnish person into a zombie. However, for me personally – don’t be shocked – it almost doesn’t bother me. I don’t mind the darkness at all and I only mind the cold if the winters are as extreme as the last two.

I pre-empt this story with a brief explanation that we do not have the sauna culture in Ireland. We do have saunas and steam rooms in hotels and leisure complexes but they are a recent phenomenon. Likewise, we don’t have the same attitude to the naked body as Finns do. In Ireland you must be covered. You would not walk around naked in the changing area of the public swimming pool for example. It is just not done, we are actually brought up not to be comfortable in our naked shell.

I am Latin-American, and no, I did not come to Finland out of love for a girl (although it’s now one of my top reasons for staying). I came here for studies three years ago and I currently work for one of the largest companies in the Nordic countries.

Even though I can survive without speaking Finnish at work, I do feel like a visitor in Finnish society. Like you, presumably, I’ve been putting quite a lot of effort during my stay into learning the local languages without incredible success. I could probably give some excuses, but I‘d rather share my thoughts about the Finnish language.

MY FIRST encounter with Finland was some four years ago as a tourist. It was in the month of August so the weather was still rather agreeable, and I had the pleasure of experiencing what the best of a Finnish autumn was like. The days were mild with the leaves undergoing their changes in a profusion of colours, creating a kaleidoscopic visual feast of yellow, rust, gold and red. It was a sight to behold.

There is always an element of romanticising first time visits to new countries, so it is no wonder that my first meeting with Finland left me with a positive impression.

When my family and I moved here about three years ago, I wasn’t sure what to expect. One thing was evident from the start, and I’m sure any other American would notice this too, is how everything is so much smaller – the number of schools, variety in restaurants and shops, the population etc. One of the only things that seems to be bigger here is the number of lakes!

Whenever getting the flight from Dublin to Helsinki, it seems to be made up mostly of middle-aged Finnish couples. I guess the youngsters of Helsinki don’t see the appeal of the Emerald Isle. Or maybe the majority doesn’t see the point in going from one expensive country with crappy weather to another for their holidays. When the ‘gate closing time’ comes and goes, and with nothing happening, the Finnish passengers start to become visibly annoyed and restless, bewildered how such a crime against humanity could be permitted in a developed country. I’m thinking they should go to Nepal or Cambodia where a 6-hour delay is fairly standard. Meanwhile I’m sitting back in my chair confident that everything will happen, eventually, if not exactly to plan.

I am pretty sure that the thought has come at some point in time, caused by whatever reactionary reason in an expat’s life-span in a foreign country that they perhaps are slightly batshit crazy for living in it.

Before all of the national pride within the locals swell up enough to throw this foul-mouthed Aussie out of Finland, hear me out because this feeling could be felt by anyone who has left their native lands for another nation – for whatever reason. It may just happen to you one day as you quest past the normal limits of comfort and routine and from Finland to the great beyond!