Monday, March 07, 2005
Winter School
Hi Everyone,
The day after we arrived home from Rovaniemi, we packed up again to attend Winter School. Roy is involved as a mentor in a virtual doctoral program run by Kalidescope, a European Union funding source like the National Science Foundation in the US. The University of Oulu received a grant from this organization to provide an international course exploring the core theoretical issues and empirical questions in different subfields of technology enhanced learning. Although the semester-long course is online, where students from 11 countries have a series of assignments, internet chats, and one-to-one online mentoring with professors from 6 countries, they came together for an in-depth 4 day session here in Oulu called Winter School. The goal of Kalidescope, through their virtual doctoral program and meetings like this, is to form alliances and collaboration among the member countries’ scholars. Roy was the only American taking part.
Winter School was held at Oulu University’s Bothnian Bay Research Station on Hailuoto Island, about 7 kilometres from Oulu. The Bothnian Bay, at the northern end of the Baltic Sea, does not have the saline content of deeper parts of the sea, so the bay freezes solid in the winter. There are 2 ways to get to Hailuoto. A ferry keeps a slushy path open across the bay with the occasional help of a mammoth-sized Icebreaker, and there is also an ice road marked with little pine branches stuck in the ice to show the way.
When our van, piled high with luggage, beer, food for evening parties, more beer, and two other participants drove up to the ferry dock, I breathed a sigh of relief that we were taking the “safe” ferry route, and were not motoring across on the ice. Then I saw our travel companions waiting with us to board. Two enormous trucks filled with rock, a city bus, another university van, and about 20 cars intended to sardine together on what seemed a ridiculously small ferry. But I didn’t feel any sway at all as the boat crossed the bay. Since the ice on either side is solid, there are no waves in the ferry lane, and thus, no sway. It was like being in a hovercraft, except for the sound of ice grinding under the bow.
The 20 minute drive to the research station on the island’s only paved road took us through pine and birch forest and past scattered red and yellow houses belonging to the 800 island residents. Occasionally we saw “Moose Crossing” signs reminding us that most of the large island is a wilderness park. The island’s economy depends on summer tourism, some fishing, and reindeer moss farming. This moss is actually a form of lichen and is used – yup, you guessed it – to feed the reindeer herds in Lapland.
At the Biology Research Station at the far end of the island there is a cluster of old, beautifully maintained cottages and dorm accommodations, a lighthouse, equipment for ongoing study of the bay’s ecology, 3 enormous windmills that furnish all of the island’s electricity, a wood-fired sauna which (showing Finnish priorities) was the first structure built at the research station, and a great expanse of frozen sea. I had expected the sea’s surface ice to be smooth, but it looked like it had been caught and frozen mid-wave producing a craggy, silent moonscape as far as the eye could see.
During the evenings, we had social gatherings including a Finnish hot dog roast in a log building with a large indoor firepit, an evening of guitar playing after a wood-fired sauna (pronounced sow-nah in Finnish), and a finale which included skits, songs, and poems performed by all of the participants.
A highlight on March 1st happened at breakfast, when Desislava, a Bulgarian doc student, gave us all simple candy-striped yarn bracelets and explained the custom of “Martenitsi,” when people give their friends variations of the bracelet to wish them good luck and health for the coming year. The custom is to keep the bracelet on until you see a stork (although mercifully Desislava said we could substitute the first spring flowers), when the yarn should be tied in a fruit tree so the birds have nesting materials. After I came home I found a Peace Core teacher’s account of Martenitsi and its homage to Baba Marta, or Grandmother March. For her account, click here.
Although none of us thought we could survive 4 days without e-mail and the internet, at the end of the conference we all agreed that we had gained more without electronic connection to the outside world. Friendships were forged, mentors were cubby-holed for their insights into the students’ various research projects, and all of us went home with a greater appreciation of our connection in a global community. As Roy told the group during one presentation, “You’re here with the people who will be your colleagues for the next 40 years. These are the people you’ll see at conferences, the people you’ll publish with, the ones you’ll send your graduate students to and the ones who will send you their brightest and best.” The importance of the European Union and its challenge to unite Europe to improve life and better compete not only in commerce but also in the world’s intellectual life was really brought home to me in this meeting.
At the same time, I am afraid that over the next generations the age-old customs of individual nations may fade. We talked with students about the ease of travel within the union, and of the many marriages that have occurred already between people of different nationalities. Although only 6 of the 30+ participants at the conference were native speakers, all were expected to speak English to participate. Most of the academic journals worldwide are in English. This “hegemony of sameness” is at once comforting and disturbing. It made me wonder how many years it will be until practices like “Martenitsi” will be forgotten.
Enough philosophical ramblings. Hope you're all doing well.
Sarah
The day after we arrived home from Rovaniemi, we packed up again to attend Winter School. Roy is involved as a mentor in a virtual doctoral program run by Kalidescope, a European Union funding source like the National Science Foundation in the US. The University of Oulu received a grant from this organization to provide an international course exploring the core theoretical issues and empirical questions in different subfields of technology enhanced learning. Although the semester-long course is online, where students from 11 countries have a series of assignments, internet chats, and one-to-one online mentoring with professors from 6 countries, they came together for an in-depth 4 day session here in Oulu called Winter School. The goal of Kalidescope, through their virtual doctoral program and meetings like this, is to form alliances and collaboration among the member countries’ scholars. Roy was the only American taking part.
Winter School was held at Oulu University’s Bothnian Bay Research Station on Hailuoto Island, about 7 kilometres from Oulu. The Bothnian Bay, at the northern end of the Baltic Sea, does not have the saline content of deeper parts of the sea, so the bay freezes solid in the winter. There are 2 ways to get to Hailuoto. A ferry keeps a slushy path open across the bay with the occasional help of a mammoth-sized Icebreaker, and there is also an ice road marked with little pine branches stuck in the ice to show the way.
When our van, piled high with luggage, beer, food for evening parties, more beer, and two other participants drove up to the ferry dock, I breathed a sigh of relief that we were taking the “safe” ferry route, and were not motoring across on the ice. Then I saw our travel companions waiting with us to board. Two enormous trucks filled with rock, a city bus, another university van, and about 20 cars intended to sardine together on what seemed a ridiculously small ferry. But I didn’t feel any sway at all as the boat crossed the bay. Since the ice on either side is solid, there are no waves in the ferry lane, and thus, no sway. It was like being in a hovercraft, except for the sound of ice grinding under the bow.
The 20 minute drive to the research station on the island’s only paved road took us through pine and birch forest and past scattered red and yellow houses belonging to the 800 island residents. Occasionally we saw “Moose Crossing” signs reminding us that most of the large island is a wilderness park. The island’s economy depends on summer tourism, some fishing, and reindeer moss farming. This moss is actually a form of lichen and is used – yup, you guessed it – to feed the reindeer herds in Lapland.
At the Biology Research Station at the far end of the island there is a cluster of old, beautifully maintained cottages and dorm accommodations, a lighthouse, equipment for ongoing study of the bay’s ecology, 3 enormous windmills that furnish all of the island’s electricity, a wood-fired sauna which (showing Finnish priorities) was the first structure built at the research station, and a great expanse of frozen sea. I had expected the sea’s surface ice to be smooth, but it looked like it had been caught and frozen mid-wave producing a craggy, silent moonscape as far as the eye could see.
The doc students at the gathering were truly impressive. The meetings were conducted in English, and only 2 of the 24 had any difficulty with the language, though both were fluent in three or more other languages. Since I had no formal duties (and Roy was preoccupied with sessions, presentations, and talking up the doc students), I volunteered to take pictures for the group, and they literally forgot I was there as they broke into different interest groups where the concentration was palpable, and the discussions were spirited and insightful.
During the evenings, we had social gatherings including a Finnish hot dog roast in a log building with a large indoor firepit, an evening of guitar playing after a wood-fired sauna (pronounced sow-nah in Finnish), and a finale which included skits, songs, and poems performed by all of the participants.
A highlight on March 1st happened at breakfast, when Desislava, a Bulgarian doc student, gave us all simple candy-striped yarn bracelets and explained the custom of “Martenitsi,” when people give their friends variations of the bracelet to wish them good luck and health for the coming year. The custom is to keep the bracelet on until you see a stork (although mercifully Desislava said we could substitute the first spring flowers), when the yarn should be tied in a fruit tree so the birds have nesting materials. After I came home I found a Peace Core teacher’s account of Martenitsi and its homage to Baba Marta, or Grandmother March. For her account, click here.
Although none of us thought we could survive 4 days without e-mail and the internet, at the end of the conference we all agreed that we had gained more without electronic connection to the outside world. Friendships were forged, mentors were cubby-holed for their insights into the students’ various research projects, and all of us went home with a greater appreciation of our connection in a global community. As Roy told the group during one presentation, “You’re here with the people who will be your colleagues for the next 40 years. These are the people you’ll see at conferences, the people you’ll publish with, the ones you’ll send your graduate students to and the ones who will send you their brightest and best.” The importance of the European Union and its challenge to unite Europe to improve life and better compete not only in commerce but also in the world’s intellectual life was really brought home to me in this meeting.
At the same time, I am afraid that over the next generations the age-old customs of individual nations may fade. We talked with students about the ease of travel within the union, and of the many marriages that have occurred already between people of different nationalities. Although only 6 of the 30+ participants at the conference were native speakers, all were expected to speak English to participate. Most of the academic journals worldwide are in English. This “hegemony of sameness” is at once comforting and disturbing. It made me wonder how many years it will be until practices like “Martenitsi” will be forgotten.
Enough philosophical ramblings. Hope you're all doing well.
Sarah
