Sisu anyone? by Jori Ballance

It was a cool rainy October day, many years ago. I remember taking shelter in an ancient grove of trees in British Columbia. The old giants that had lost their battle with the wind and elements were lying on their side amongst the ferns, soft green moss coated and comforted them and their fallen comrades.

The stillness was broken by the sound of water dripping from Old Man’s Beard into the puddles on either side of the muddy trail. The funky smell of decaying plant matter infused the moist salty sea breeze creating an elixir that involuntarily made a person inhale slowly and deeply. There was a faded, hand-painted sign that was nailed to an enormous fallen Sitka spruce that kindly stated the obvious, ‘We ask that you not use the trail in extreme weather conditions.’

My partner and I were finally exploring the sights and sounds of Malcolm Island, located in the Queen Charlotte Sound just off the northeast coast of Vancouver Island. We were on the Beautiful Bay trail that would take us to Bere Point and the famous rubbing beaches where Orca whales have been known to use the baseball-size pebbles as a tummy scratch pad.

The village of Sointula is also located on Malcolm Island. Now if you have never heard of these places, then you probably have never enjoyed piirakka or Pulla, or listened to Jean Sibelius. If you have heard of Sointula, but don’t know the Finnish connection then you are most likely a Finnish imposter. There. I said it.

I first heard of Sointula while visiting my sister in Victoria in 2005. We were looking at ideas and places to visit on Vancouver Island. While attending university in Liege, Belgium she befriended a fellow student from Finland who, upon hearing that my sister was from Canada, mentioned that she must visit a place on a small island in British Columbia, called Sointula. “It means ‘Place of Harmony’,” she said. “It was an attempt at a socialist utopian society by Finnish immigrants at the beginning of the 20th century.”

My lasting memory of that first short trip was hearing Finnish for the first time being spoken on the 25-minute ferry ride from Port McNeill to Malcolm Island and thinking, ‘Man, these folks had big dreams and bigger ***** trying to make a go of it out here...’ The 2011 trip was different, however. It was my curse, I mean, my good fortune to have fallen in love and be in a relationship with a woman of Finnish descent since then. I was more prepared this time. I had done my homework.

As a ‘uusi suomalainen’ -not sure if that is a proper phrase- I had studied the history of Finland long before I heard about the Sointula story. I already knew about the exodus of many Finns in the late 1800’s. Although I try to imagine people’s hardships when reading history books, it is almost impossible to get a feel for what it was must have been like to be living in Finland during this period. I mean, a bad day for me is realizing I forgot to buy coffee filters...I wonder if this conversation ever happened in 1895, -

“Hei Juho, what did you do on the weekend?”

“Oh, not much. I got kicked off my tenant farm for not being able to pay my exorbitant taxes, so I moved to the crowded city where I’m living in squalor working for minimum markka in a factory operated by Swedish speaking elites.

I’ve decided to move to Canada because Tsar Nicholas has just nuked our cnstitution and has conscripted me into theRussian army...I’m outta here!”

Conditions during the late 1800s and early 1900’ were very difficult for Tenant farmers in Finland. This makes it easier to understand how people during that time tended to lean toward a socialist attitude and eventually found a place where they could try to build a colony- a community based on the ideals and values of co-operative sharing and decision making-Sointula.

And if you are wondering if there is still a Finnish presence in the town, please take note that The ‘Welcome to Sointula’ sign outside of the Co-Op store is in both languages with a large ‘Tervetuloa’ arched above the sign.

I must be honest; I was a bit taken aback when we said hello to the first person walking out of the store and he asked, “Puhutko Suomea?” Having very little confidence speaking the language, I silently shook my head, mumbling “Vain vähän” and pointed to my girlfriend. She proceeded to excitedly bury the poor guy in a flurry of Finnish, causing him to hold his grocery bags up in front of him in mock defense. He explained that there are people who still speak Finnish on the island, but he only speaks a little himself. We chatted like old friends and on his suggestion, we headed over to check out the museum.

The museum was closed but the sign on the door gave us hope. ‘The Sointula museum is always pleased to open her door for visitors. Please phone one of our volunteers if you wish to visit our museum.’ No less than six phone numbers were there to choose from.

We randomly dialed one number and in less than five minutes a friendly Sointulan was there to open the door and proceeded to guide us through an over-whelming display of pictures, artifacts, and relics from bygone days in the community.

And if you ever questioned the socialist element of the community, look no further than the huge mural that greeted you upon entering. Painted using house paint on stitched denim, it was used as a backdrop for the plays that were performed in the old Finnish Organization Hall in the early days. It showed an image of lady liberty holding a pair of broken shackles, leading workers from the oppression of the smokestacks and cities to the utopia of Sointula. An old photo showed the backdrop in the old hall with a sign above it, proudly stating, ‘Workers of the world unite!’

We left the museum after I caught the universal non-verbal message from my partner that it was time to go...the sideways tilt of the head toward the exit. We thanked the lady for taking the time to open the museum and headed toward our last stop, the Sointula Koti Niemi cemetery. As we silently wandered through the grounds, the sun broke through the afternoon clouds, softening our sombre mood.

There is one word that summed up what all these people had in common - SISU

Sisu (noun) Extraordinary determination, courage, and resoluteness in the face of extreme adversity. An action mindset which enables individuals to reach beyond their present limitations, act against all odds and transform barriers into frontiers. An integral element of Finnish culture and a universal capacity which we all share. Sisu indeed.

Authored by Geoff Jori Ballance