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 Most instances in life can be regulated. Shops open at 7 am; hospitals admit patients; Kela stamps your allowance. Then come the offbeat moments: that awkward pause, ten minutes late for the doctor; the wine you knocked over getting up to the loo; the shop assistant in a cold sweat. You can tell a lot about a place from its fringe reactions–like the Twilight Zone episode where the townsfolk are just a little peculiar. Recently, I’ve begun to fret. Now, I’m not about to suggest that Oulu citizens are UFOs; at least I hope not. But bigger towns than this have succumbed to paranormal disturbance! One or two incidents have me a little worried. Is Oulu alien?
Case one
I’m walking into local department store Stockmann at three minutes past six on a Saturday evening, minding my own business, when to my right I hear a noise between the mangled gargling of an espresso machine and the way the vendors at UK Burger King ask you, ‘do you want those chips to go,’ or in the vernacular, ‘jewa thes chis tagoo?’ I had assumed there wasn’t an equivalent in Finland. Seeing nothing in front of me other than the fifty other shoppers, I crane to the left and right until I see a very upset-looking security guard glowering at me. I look at him and raise my eyebrows. “Tscharraratelloosulltu,” he repeats. Obviously I don’t understand this either.
He looks at me very sternly now, like a rat catcher who’s just spied a big fat rodent about to bite his wife’s sleeping butt cheeks. “Tsaachharrraatelllooooosulllttu!!” he announces, again, urgently. At this point I am utterly unable to come up with a reason why this security guard should have taken such a liking to shouting at me. With no alternatives but to stare or respond, I bend then raise both eyebrows energetically and say, “Anteeksi mitä?”* The security guard’s eyes swell up to the size of ripe ping-pong balls. “Ta-va-ra-ta-lo-on-sul-je-tt-u,”** he explains, demonstrating his ability to rearticulate the phrase as if for the first time, something most hamsters manage in recognition of a new treat.
Case Two
On Wednesday I leave Raati swimming pool proper and, after sauna, get changed around five minutes before closing - unaware of the dangerous position this presents until the pool attendant’s voice, a sinister two or three locker rows away, barks, “five minutes to go, it’s closing time!”“Yes“ I reply towelling myself, “dressing as fast as I can!” I don’t expect to have to continue the conversation, but the attendant – whose face I still can’t see – considers my remark insubordinate. “NOT fast enough!” “he continues. "You can come and help me if you like!” I retort. He glowers at me on the way out like Luke watching Darth Vader escape the death star.
I’ve since noticed that the same attendant has developed a strange Voodoo accent in his voice, a tone usually reserved for imbeciles and old folk with hearing disabilities. He repeats at least four times in the last half-hour of swimming time that the pool is about to close. I can make my way in quickly, but not quickly enough for his Voodoo eye. He comes right up into the aisle to make sure myself and the few other swimmers putting their clothes do so well within the time limits. He stares, glowers, and actually opens a fuse box to turn off half the lights in the changing room, which is then dim and forcedly intimate.
Future Shock: Testing For a Virus
 Is this woman paranormal?
 Kauko Röhykä
It does seem a little strange that the aliens should all work in the service industry, but this also makes logical sense: with so few central amenities, it’s only natural that bouncers and pool attendants would be on the front line; they receive the most exposure. I’m reluctant to suggest testing of the magnitude that the Oulu municipality would doubtless arrange, as there’ll be no turning back. Specialists will have to be brought in. It’ll be Animal Farm and Ghostbusters and The Crucible and Invasion of The Body Snatchers: meteors appearing in the sky and the policeman statue turning into a giant alien replica of Aphrodite with feelers and humungous breasts.
Don’t tell anyone, but I plan to construct a psychic helmet for measuring body chakra. If nothing else, it’ll confuse them while I escape through the rear.
* “Excuse me, what?”
**”The department store is closed.”
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