Good Moaning...

'Terve' (Hello). Uncle Sulo shook hands and met me with the standard Finnish welcome.

'Good Moaning', I responded. 'My calves ache at the thought of pickled herring - what is your thinking?' Somewhat startled, he paused - stared blankly at me for a moment, but continued with our doomed conversation.

Despite the fact that I was born in Helsinki, my grasp of the Finnish language can be best described as remedial. I left my former homeland when I was just 4 years old and still revert to the vocabulary of a pre-schooler when engaged in conversation.

'Monta paiva te olette Soumessa?' (How long are you staying in Finland?), inquired Sulo.

'I will weave a net in a number of days', I responded.

He bowed his head slightly towards my mother and whispered under his breath. I think I heard him ask her if she had dropped me when I was a child.