Tough Dough

Tomorrow Bo and I might try to sneak into Russia. It won't really be sneaking, since I'm pretty sure there won't even be a fence there, so you could say that tomorrow we might just try to "go to Russia."

Savonlinna is about 40 miles from Russia. To get there you (ostensibly) take a train to Parikkala, about an hour and directly towards the Russian border, and then walk a few kilometers. At some point you either probably say to yourself "I'm in Russia now" or stumble across a Russian farmer plowing his fields and yelling at his horses in Russian. Or yelling at his tractor.

Things have become somewhat routine around here. But good routine. We still swim extensively and my diet has still included fasting on a regular basis. I have also learned how to make pizza from scratch. My first attempt was a disaster. Instead of putting the sugar in with the yeast I put it in the flower and the dough barely rose at all. When we made "pulla" the other day (bread buns) our teacher kept callling the dough "duff". This sounded hilarious but makes sense seeing as you would pronounce the word "tough" "tuff." English is a hard language.

Today I might play floor hockey. I played last Friday and sweated more than I have sweated in five years. I was running all over the place and at one point accidentally gauged an Italian girl in the hand with my finger nails and she started bleeding. Then she got hit in the nose by the ball and started bleeding from the nose. She was having a good time.

I'm going to skip the afternoon lecture today. It's on Finnish music. The teaching is atrocious. She says everything in Finnish and then immediately translates it to English. So effectively she says everything twice. It is pointless and awful and instead of going I will spend the day on the beach eating cashews and swimming and lying in the sun.

Finland!