lauantai 30. joulukuuta 2017

Old pictures for my US and Canadian friends.


Hi Terry and my Canadian cousins. 
Since I left Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, G+ etc Social Media shit for good, I received kinda peace. I could feel the world fall apart and that increased my PTSD a lot. Now all I do is reading CNN, Politico and Quardian maybe once a week to update my instincts.
It seems that USA and Finland both are falling apart. Torn apart rude. Not that there is anything large to compare with US and Finland.
Powerty Drugs Hate Political bullshitting Economic differences Religious madness
So nothing very much - just those everlasting lame miniwars.
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I don´t know how to continue this blog 2018.
Thought to move to Vlog cause people seem to repel reading. But Vlogging is difficult. Voice must be topnotch, lights like Hollywood and cuts must follow in 4 seconds interval.
Writing is tedious too. 2017 I tried to be ultrasocial. Wrote about bad, very bad things in Finland and got this label of a liar, like in the next one...
Wrote about the emissions of a huge refinery near to where my boat hibernates. Linked that story to environmental regime.
Only one officer reacted:"No that is not true. No such leakages.That`s a lie. We will not do anything, if that thing bothers You, go to police. SIC.
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Contacting government does not work. Should I write about my small Russian Toy Terrier. How her tummy is itsybitsy swollen and she farts a bit too loud...do I continue 2018 with that item?  That surely is more interesting to most of the readers than "lies" about polluting or nazis.
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To move nicely into 2018 I´ll tell the same old story about how it all started. That story is the start of the frustration of my family and I had to swallow it in the early childhood.



The origins of bitterness.
3 hr 54 min and about 308 km separates me from Johannes/ Советск where my ancestry enjoyed their rural living from 1650 to 1939. Then came those 100 days of Winter War.
Soviet Union attacked Finland and started the war by shooting some own artillery shots over a bulge of the borderline at Mainila. Then they insisted that Finland had started the aggression and poured into our country. That was a (war)crime.
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The late League of Nations
 tried to whine against USSR. No help. Finland had to fight alone with a little voluntary help from Sweden, which officially prevented allied troops to travel through for help. Sweden so doomed Finland. The European history could have been totally different if Sweden had guts.
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My old man was 9 years young and had to burn his own house. His dad was as a medic at the frontline and his mother as an evacuee somewhere. Silently dad watched the flames and lead his horse Poku and three cows towards Viipuri. It was cold, about - 22 C  and my father milked the cows in the woods by a bonfire. Managed to take the animals into Viipuri and it was the last time he saw his horse.
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They evacuated to main Finland...
....and finnish kids threw stones and shouted: "go back to russia you fu...n dirty commies. Dad never cried and told much about those years and I obtained his hidden anger and depression during my childhood. I listened often those from Carelia during early years. Learned about their hate and rage against russians. They lost sons and brothers. Dads and mothers. Husbands and sisters. All of their land and homes.
90 000 to 100 000 fins were killed by soviets at 1944. Thousands of innocent civilians perished in bombing.
So now You apprehend my very fountain of anger and depression. I cried for 
righteousness all my life, never receive it. I´m partially destroyed by WWII and then my own years as a war photographer. And those who know me...can see it clearly. PTSD roars in my guts.




Here`s my dad at 1933. He`s only five or so. The colt is Poku, the one he had leave at Viipuri railway station december 1939. My dad told: "I touched his muzzle and looked at his dark eyes  and I was sure Poku cried." The train left. They never met.



My eldest son Jopi at the very same place year 1998. 
See the cowshed based on boulders.



To be exact the area was Johannes, the village was Kaijala.
I visited Johannes with part of my family at 2000. Wanted to show my son where his ancestry is from. The main house was a wreck, but the barn was still erect. Some moonshinecookers were laying dead drunk at a scrap heap. A toothless woman come to see us. Garbage was thrown at the yard. People seemed to shit at the yard. A dead chicken laid there and a car wreck here and plastic bags everywhere. I was the only one who could speak ( minimal) russian. The only adult who was not drunk - told that she knew nothing about the war and nothing about Finns who once lived there. Her dad was forced to move from Ural to Johannes or Советск. Can I blame her? No.















Those old HTML pages are in Finnish. Maybe You could Google translate them?
Don´t know how much Finnish You Canadians read?


But the conversation went like....bold is we.


Привет, как вы
Хороший -- oткуда вы?
Мы из Финляндии
У вас есть кофе?
Да к момоенту.
(мы даем некоторые пакеты)
Как вы стары?
Мне 35 лет, и это моя четвертая дочь.
Как вы здесь живете.
Очень плохо, очень плохо.
Мы готовим алкоголь и продаем его.
Вы знаете, что эта пожилая дама жила здесь в 1939 году
Нет.
Знаете ли вы, что была война между Россией и Финляндией.

О боже, нет, я очень сожалею.

Then my ability in russian faded.....ploha ploha o bože.