“No, it doesn’t have anything to do with Disney,” I laugh between my words. “Any other guesses?”
Vivian shakes her head. “I have no idea where you’re taking me.”
I glance at her with a sly smile on my face. “Well, let’s just say you’re going to be transported to a whole new world.”
* * *
To kill time as we drive to my surprise location, I teach Vivian basic Finnish. I’ve taught her a word or two whenever she’s asked before, but not much else. At least she knows how to say kiitos, which is ‘thank you’ in Finnish.
“When my sisters started English classes in school, their first lessons included introducing yourself and counting to ten,” I tell her. “So, let’s start with the basic introduction.”
“Okay, so how do I sayhi, my name is Vivianin Finnish?”
“Hei, minun nimeni on Vivian.”
“Can you repeat that slower?”
“Hei, mi-nun ni-me-ni on Vivian,” I pronounce each syllable. Vivian repeats the sentence, struggling with the unfamiliar sounds, and I correct her. “You want to say it likeni-me-ni,but faster.”
She huffs. “But that’s exactly what I said. Hei, minunniminion Vivian.”
Her accent is thick, but I find it endearing. ”Okay, that’s close enough.”
“Let’s skip the numbers—I want to learn all the swear words.” Vivian laughs. “Isn’t that what everyone learns first when learning a new language as an adult?”
I chuckle at her request. “All right, I can teach you a few words, but you have to promise not to use them in front of my farmor Lovisa. She hates swearing and will know that I taught you all that.”
“I notice that she gave you and your sisters side-eyes during Christmas dinner every time you accidentally said swear words. So, vittu means fuck, right?”
“Yeah, it’s used as a general swear word that resembles fuck. But it actually translates to cunt,” I explain.
“How would you say go fuck yourself?”
“Haista vittu.” Vivian repeats the sentence, so I continue. “If you would take it literally, it means smell the cunt.”
She bursts into laughter. “No way. That’s funny!”
“Sometimes translating swear words makes no sense.”
“True, but let’s continue with other basics.”
I tap the steering wheel, thinking of the next word. “Perkele is used to express anger or frustration, but it doesn’t have a direct translation in English. Some say it translates to damn, but I disagree.”
“Say it again? Repeat that for me?”
“Perkele,” I pronounce clearly.
“Perkele,” Vivian says after me, rolling the r sound with ease. “See, I’m learning!”
“Not bad, but you sound a bit too happy saying it. Try saying perkele as if you’re really pissed off.”
She takes a deep breath, closing her eyes to get into character and bellows, “Perkele!”
I raise my eyebrows, impressed. “Perfect—you’re natural at swearing in Finnish.”
She laughs at my comment. “I guess swear words are easier for me. What’s next?”
“Saatana, which means Satan.”
