F4 EZ EE THE WASHINGTON POST.SUNDAY, APRIL 3 , 2022
son in a Montessori school. His
monthly tuition was the same as
our mortgage.
But more importantly, should a
woman or her baby get sick in
Finland, regardless of the progno-
sis, treatment won’t be as finan-
cially devastating as it can be in
the United States and elsewhere.
“I’m planning to tell my son
about his birth soon,” says Sirja
Lassila, a Swedish teacher and
mom of two in Imatra. Three
weeks before his due date, she’d
noticed her baby had suddenly
stopped moving in the womb. Her
husband drove her to the nearby
hospital, where she had an emer-
gency C-section. Resuscitated af-
ter delivery, her son still needed
critical care, so he was raced by
ambulance 142 miles to Helsinki,
to the country’s best children’s
hospital. He got great care and
was able to come home — by
ambulance again — a week later.
“It wasn’t totally free,” she says
in a correction email to me a day
after our interview. I brace myself
for the figure, scrolling down the
email. According to a Health Care
Cost Institute study of more than
350,000 commercially insured de-
liveries in 35 U.S. states between
2016 and 2017, the average spend-
ing per C-section was $17,004. “We
did pay some bills, altogether
about 200 to 300 euros,” she
writes, or about $220 to $330.
How’s that for a happy ending?
Of course, life isn’t perfect in
Finland. Toni Tikkanen, a docu-
mentary writer for Finnish TV
series “Arman Pohjantahden alla”
(“Arman Under the North Star”) is
quick to tell me that racism, in-
equality, violence, depression and
suicides happen there, just like in
the rest of the world. But, he adds,
“I think, as a nation, we are trying
pretty hard to make a change for
the better, and we have a pretty
strong support system.” So is Fin-
land the happiest country? Tik-
kanen says yes.
After talking with these Finns,
I’ve come to agree as well. Turns
out, I had Finnish happiness all
wrong. Resting Finn face isn’t
rude, it’s a look of understated
serenity. And although I would
never trade my U.S. passport for
anything, for a nation born out of
the idea of the pursuit of happi-
ness, we might consider what
Finns can teach us about the sub-
ject. While the American ethos to
individually fight our way to per-
sonal success is admirable, the
Finnish system that ensures that
no one has to worry about basic
needs — well, that sounds like a
recipe for happiness to me.Gidick is a writer based in Scottsville,
Va. Her website is kinseygidick.com.BY SHARON WATERSChelsea O’Brien-Ducharme of
Salisbury, Md., had never been to
Yellowstone National Park before
arriving for a seasonal job as a
housekeeper in fall 2019. Her jaw
dropped at the scenery in the park,
which spans 2.2 million acres in
parts of Idaho, Montana and Wyo-
ming.
“After so much time living on
the East Coast, where the land is
pretty flat, it felt surreal,” said
O’Brien-Ducharme, 27, who
worked for three months at Yel-
lowstone’s Grant Village. “It’s like
being in a Discovery documen-
tary, and I’d forget that I live and
work here.”
The parks need seasonal work-
ers, especially for the busy sum-
mer, which offers nature lovers an
opportunity to immerse them-
selves affordably in a beautiful
setting and earn some money to
boot. Although the jobs are popu-
lar, there are still some openings
this year. The widespread labor
shortages due to the coronavirus
pandemic have also hit national
parks, creating a jobseeker’s mar-
ket.
“Wages have gone way, way up
for these starting positions, and
there are more incentives than
before,” said Kelcy Fowler, presi-
dent of CoolWorks, a website that
lists jobs in national parks and
other interesting places. Entry-
level jobs generally pay $13
per hour for a housekeeper to
$16 per hour for a maintenance
worker. Housing costs range from
$20 to $125 per week. There are
also bonuses for end-of-season
work, travel and referrals. “Em-
ployers are offering the banana
split of offerings these days ... to
do everything they possibly
can to be as competitive as they
need to be to catch the interest of
the jobseeker who, at this mo-
ment, has what feels like all the
options available to them,” Fowler
said.
Traditionally, college students
and retirees have filled a lot of
seasonal jobs, but people between
those age groups are increasingly
pursuing these positions. “It has
changed dramatically” in the pastfew years, Fowler said, adding that
more professionals are opting into
these experiences. Fowler chalks
it up to people reevaluating priori-
ties as a result of the pandemic, as
well as the popularity of “van life,”
where people trade in their homes
for a four-wheeled existence.
If perks such as taking spectac-
ular after-hours hikes and spot-
ting wildlife during your com-
mute intrigue you, here’s what you
need to know about finding (and
working) a seasonal job in an
American treasure.Parks rely on multiple
employers
The National Park Service hires
about 7,500 federal summer em-
ployees. Common seasonal posi-
tions include park rangers, trail
workers, visitor service assistants
and maintenance workers. It also
offers internships through non-
profit partners, youth programs
and the Experienced Services Pro-
gram for people 55 and older.
Private companies, or conces-
sionaires, are awarded contracts
SEE PARKS ON F5Dip your toes into work at national parks by trying a seasonal job
BRIDGET BYRNE
Bridget Byrne comes across a moose while kayaking in 2018 at Isle Royale National Park in
Michigan. She spent the summers of 2017 to 2020 interning and working at the park.was never more obvious to me
than on Christmas Eve 2001. As is
custom in Finland, that night,
Santa came to my host family’s
home to greet my excited 4-year-
old host brother, Otto. We ate a
nice meal, exchanged small gifts
and went to bed. I then shut my
bedroom door and quietly cut
open an enormous box overflow-
ing with presents that my parents
had shipped to me. I tore the
paper as delicately as possible so
as not to alert my hosts; the dis-
play of American excess was far
too embarrassing. But to my sur-
prise, when my host sisters found
my holiday loot the next day, they
simply said, “Oh, that’s nice,” with
nary a look of jealousy between
them. The joy of sharing the holi-
day with their family seemed to be
reward enough. Who needed
more stuff?
“We do want to achieve things
in our life,” says Johanna Ovaska,
a principal at the middle school in
Imatra and mother of two. “But
it’s not like ‘Keeping Up With the
Kardashians.’ ”
Essi Ala-Kokko, a 46-year-old
photographer who grew up in
Kauhajoki and moved to Chicagofor art school, fell in love and
stayed, puts it this way: “I’ve come
to a conclusion that it has to be
that we’re just satisfied with very
little. We don’t have to have ex-
tremely successful careers. We
don’t have to have a ton of money.
We like the simple things in life,
like our forest walks and hanging
out with friends.”
Enjoying downtime is easy
thanks to the Finnish work-life
balance. “We get five weeks’ vaca-
tion,” says Jukka Multisilta, a
strategy consultant in Helsinki.
That’s opposed to Americans’ av-
erage 10 days of paid time off,
according to the Bureau of Labor
Statistics. Multisilta recently
joined a friend on a 10-day motor-
bike trip from Helsinki to Nord-
kapp, the northernmost tip of
Norway. Along the way, he and his
friend had access to free open
wilderness huts maintained by
Finland’s national park system, a
perk making outdoor adventure
more affordable. The trip was
amazing, he says. “ T he light is so
crazy when you go up north, so
everything looks magical.”
Of course, Finns don’t have to
drive at all to enter nature. Greenspace is everywhere in the coun-
try of more than 5 million. “I have
four winter swimming holes with-
in two kilometers from my house,”
Pantzar says. But let’s be real:
Although ice plunges are believed
to be physically and mentally ben-
eficial, I find it hard to believe that
Finns are polar bear swimming
themselves to happiness.
And a forest walk isn’t the an-
swer, either, although I’m sure it’s
great for mindfulness. Tuition-
free education, however? That’ll
improve your mood. Sure, Finns
pay more taxes for the privilege,
but my friends tell me that not
sweating college expenses was
well worth it.
Lavikkala and her sister were
the first people in her family to go
to high school, she says, and they
“both went to university. We both
have a degree. We didn’t have to
take student loans. If you have the
capability, you can be anything
you want in Finland.”
I have to laugh. I recently
opened a 529 college savings ac-
count for my son. He’s 6.
And that’s the thing. There are a
lot of stressors that Finns, espe-
cially Finnish women, don’t haveto worry about.
“I really think that the position
of women is a big thing in our
happiness,” Ovaska says. “Have
you seen our government? We
have a woman prime minister.
She’s [36] years old. Then we have
four other main ministers who are
also young women. So it’s pretty
big girl power.”
Reaching the highest rungs of
public office isn’t such a wild idea
when the government actually
supports motherhood. Hatinen is
now on Month 12 of her materni-
ty/parental leave. She could take
three years total if she wanted to,
but opted for a little over a year. “I
get 70 percent of my salary, and
then if I keep taking time after 10
months, I think it drops to 300
euros [about $330] a month,” she
says. As for day care, there’s no
need to fret about that price tag,
either. “Finland provides free uni-
versal daycare from eight months
until the start of formal education
at age seven,” according to the
World Economic Forum. I tell her
about my rather luxurious — by
American standards — eight
weeks of maternity leave. The
minute it was up, we enrolled myOLIVIER MORIN/AGENCE FRANCE-PRESSE/GETTY IMAGES
CLOCKWISE FROM TOP LEFT: The view of Lake Saimaa from the dock of Sirja Lassila’s summer cottage; Jukka Multisilta stops by
an old barn during a 10-day motorbike ride from Helsinki to Nordkapp, the northernmost tip of Norway; Finns take a dip after a
sauna session in Vaasa on a cold day in 2 017. The World Happiness Report has put Finland at No. 1 for the fifth year in a row.BY KINSEY GIDICKFor the fifth year in a row, Fin-
land has been named the happiest
country in the world by the United
Nations-sponsored World Happi-
ness Report. And for the fifth year
in a row, I’m surprised. I lived in
Finland for a year as a student in
the Rotary Youth Exchange pro-
gram from 2001 to 2002. It was a
life-changing experience. I made
incredible Finnish friends. I
drank too much vodka. I pet a
reindeer in Lapland. I saunaed,
ice swam and rolled in the snow
naked until my pink body looked
like a honey-baked ham. It was
certainly one of the happiest years
of my life. But my Finnish friends?
Well, I’m not entirely sure they’ve
ever been that happy.
The thing about the Finns, in
my experience, is they’re one of
the most reserved people on the
planet. Blatant signs of glee are
not in their playbook. I remember
silent breakfasts with my first
host father, watching him stare
out the window, barely acknowl-
edging my presence. He wasn’t
being rude. He was being Finnish.
Classroom management wasn’t
an issue at my high school, Ima-
tran Yhteislukio, either. Behavior
isn’t a problem when no one
speaks out. Even when I joined a
school friend for aerobics classes
at the local gym, the mood was
more silent disco than fitness
frenzy. Was this low-key melan-
choly vibe happiness? Do Ameri-
cans — who came in at No. 16 on
the World Happiness Report —
have this entire happiness thing
all wrong?
I decided to contact my Finnish
friends to find out: Is the World
Happiness Report right? Are
Finns really that happy?
“We have a saying in Finland: ‘If
you’re happy, you should hide it,’ ”
says Veera Lavikkala, a consultant
at a software company in Kirk-
konummi, west of Helsinki. The
37-year-old mother of two says
that, in Finland, boasting about
one’s good fortune is considered
gauche.
“Finns have a subdued happi-
ness,” agrees Katja Pantzar, an
expert on the topic and author of
“Everyday Sisu: Tapping into
Finnish Fortitude for a Happier,
More Resilient Life.” Pantzar was
born in Finland before her family
moved to Australia and finally
Vancouver, B.C., where she grew
up. When an opportunity to work
for Finnair’s in-flight magazine
came up 20 years ago, she re-
turned to her homeland and has
never looked back. In fact, she’s so
enthusiastic about the Finnish
lifestyle — including its frequent
trips to the sauna and its bike-
friendly city planning — that she’s
written two books on the topic.
And she has a special insight into
the Finnish psyche. “They might
be totally satisfied, but they don’t
have the same body language, like
smiling,” she says. But don’t let
Finns’ poker faces fool you. If the
World Happiness Report is to be
believed, Finns are masking a
deep contentment built on an ap-
preciation for a society that puts
the public good first.
“Everybody has access to the
basics,” says Liisi Hatinen, a com-
munications coordinator in Es-
poo, a city outside of Helsinki, and
a mother of two. She’s talking
about guaranteed health care, tu-
ition-free school, a living wage
and affordable housing. “These
programs are well thought out
and work, so that’s the basic foun-
dation for you to be happy.”
Where people of other nations,
including our own, measure suc-
cess in material wealth — the right
car, the bigger house, the best job,
the better neighborhood — Finns
find satisfaction elsewhere. This
The Finns are all right: Why is Finland the happiest country?
SIRJA LASSILA JUKKA MULTISILTA