Svenska veckan, among other things

I'm going to summarize last weeks happenings, as well as upload some photos I've taken. Last week was the "Swedish week", as 6.11 is Gustav Adolf's Day. In the shopping house Hansa they had put up yellow signs with the Swedish names for things (see the pictures), and me and Mimi walked around and smiled at the signs. With president Tarja Halonen being THE spokes person for people speaking Finnish Swedish, the new "campaign" with the "Päivää Gudaa!" dragon for a mascot is getting more and more notice. The dragon is a little silly, but he/she/it is supposed to symbolize the courage to speak Swedish in public - even if your knowledge of Swedish as a language is not that good. (Hence the "Gudaa" instead of "God dag").

Heh, clearly the use of "finlandisms" have also been taken into account :)

 Well, the week wasn't all just fun and games, as the funeral for Gerda (Micke's maternal grandmother) was held on Saturday in Purmo. 16 people attended, all close relatives. I ended up being the only girl wearing a long black dress, and I had the "ho" boots on. *sigh* But another girl had white pumps on, so I didn't feel to bad about the shoes after all. It snowed the whole night before the funeral, so the church and the cemetery was covered beautifully in snow.
The ceremony in the small church in Purmo was nice, if you can describe a funeral as "nice". We cried, as in "I used up most of our tissue papers". The priest held the sermon about how life and death are part of a whole, and how Gerda now is with God and how we shouldn't worry about her anymore.

It was cold when we held the ceremony at the cemetery, both me and Micke's sister Tina got our feet pretty much frozen solid. We sang "Härlig är jorden", which was quite fitting, even though it's a psalm mostly sung at Christmas. Micke and the other coffin-bearers did their job well, although they were all pretty upset. For me, it was the first time ever that I've walked with people to the cemetery and actually buried the person! I've only attended funerals where the coffin is left in the church, to get cremated. It felt... weird... I guess, to do it this "original" way instead.

Well, I learned a thing or two this weekend, and I still feel like I know too little about "how thing are done" up in Ostrobothnia, but I'm learning. I think I learned the most from speaking with Micke's paternal grandmother Laimi on Saturday evening. She's really wonderful, and she makes me miss my own granny so very much.
Oh well, now I've definitely written enough, I guess I'll better get back to work.