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The Finn as such is – well, different. Where a German is loud, the Finn is quiet; when a German is silent, a Finn makes noise. At least, that is what writer-in-residence Ariane Grundies discovered in Helsinki – as well as the opposite. A conversation about clichés, saunas and little knives.

Ms. Grundies, you spent two weeks this summer as “writer-in-residence” for the Goethe-Institut in Helsinki. In your first blog entry you wrote: “I’m looking forward to finding out how crazy the Finns really are.” So? How crazy are they?

Grundies: Well, I didn’t see anyone throwing their cell phones far away. I don’t know of the Finns really are crazy or not. But, since everything was new for me, some of it seemed quite crazy. They sometimes do odd things.

For instance?

We know that the Finns are very quiet people. Yet, in places I know of that are quiet, like in church or in the sauna, they suddenly become very loud. And in places where we would speak at a normal volume, at the supermarket checkout or on a ferry, everything was always very silent. No one said a word.

When you were given the offer to be a writer-in-residence, did you say yes right away?

Yes. I was thrilled. I like the north very much and I had never been to Finland.

What is the job of a writer-in-residence?

Actually, it is just to keep your eyes and ears open – and then to write what you experience. And what you think about the things that you come across.

Photo gallery: Impressions by a writer-in-residence

What was the most bizarre experience for you in those two weeks?

It was in a sauna. I’m not much of a sauna fan, but I’ve been to a sauna a few times in Germany. In Finland it’s entirely different. They don’t have anything like resting areas. Instead the people sit on rugs and drink beer. It was almost like a pub. Very bizarre. They even hold concerts in the sauna. I wanted to attend one, but unfortunately couldn’t make it.

Looking at the titles of your books, one could assume you have a soft spot for instruction manuals: What would be especially important in a manual for Finland?

The most important is to not let yourself be frightened off and to approach the Finns openly – even if they first appear grim.

They don’t mean it?

You never know. They often don’t say a word. You can’t let that irritate you and at some point, they become more talkative. Perhaps.

You wrote that the difference between quiet and silent became clear to you.

In my home of Mecklenburg-Vorpommern the people are also somewhat quiet. But, when I tell them something, or they me, then the other at least says “uh-huh,” “really,” “okay,” “nah,” or whatever. A Finn says nothing. That’s not the way they communicate. They just look at you and listen. You don’t know if they think you’re totally daft or if they’re enjoying it.

In such cases did you simply interpret the lack of a reaction to your favour?

No, I’m not good at that at all. I always told myself: they think I’m totally daft. But, the truth is, not all Finns are like that. I met some very communicative people, too. They talked to me for hours – and then I said “uh-huh,” “really” and “okay.”

What can we learn from the Finns?

The Finns are ahead of us in a few things. They are truly very well educated. Educational and cultural facilities there are open to everyone. I think that’s very good. I also think it’s practical that wherever you wait in a queue, you pull a number. The people there are generally very patient – and that’s wise. Once there was a railway accident and the trains were delayed for six hours, yet it was taken with absolute calmness. No one complained. The people stood there and waited. What else should they have done? It would have been no use. Although, I do feel better if I get a little upset.

And what should we preferably not learn a lesson from?

It’s a cliché, but it’s true: In the evening the Finns can very quickly get very drunk, loud and aggressive. If you walk along the street a lot of people lurch your way, shouting away. Even the women there stroll quite uninhibitedly drunk through the streets. And all the men have these little knives. Someone told me that 85 percent of the women who do not die a natural death in Finland were stabbed by men.

Are you kidding?

I don’t know if you can believe it either. But, it sounds disconcerting.

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Meet in Finland: To the writer-in-residence blog by Ariane Grundies and Thomas Lang

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Did you take a look at Finnish literature?

Joel Haahtela’s The Butterfly Collector was recommended to me. Everyone there was raving about it. The book is really quite good.

Did you, as a writer, bring something back with you from your time in Helsinki?

One thing was unusual. I otherwise hardly ever write poems. But, during these two weeks, I was suddenly writing a great number of them. I have no idea why. But, it went well. Maybe I just have the idea that Helsinki is a good place to write poetry.

You closed your blog with one of the poems. Will we be able to read the rest of them, as well?

No, they are for my drawer. Seriously, I don’t know what will happen to these poems. Nothing for now. Perhaps I’ll give them to my grandma on her birthday or something.

Two weeks is a short time. Would you like to return to Finland?

I would like to see more of Finland. I’d especially like to get to know Helsinki in the dark. Without that euphoria that breaks out during the brighter months. The summer is exceptional circumstances. The Finns sit outdoors, have picnics or dance in the rain. I’d like to find out what normal Finland is like and see whether I recognize it.