Brain drain

I recently read in Helsingin Sanomat (the leading Finnish newspaper) that Finland is one of the few OECD countries to suffer from brain drain. After reading the article, I have had a couple of discussions with colleagues, and they have confirmed my initial reaction to the news. It is no wonder that educated young Finns pack their suitcases and leave the country, when there is so little chance for a person with a doctoral degree to find a decent job!

Finnish free education system is held in high regard. Our schoolchildren get top results in PISA, although I dare say the same quality is not quite met in the higher education where the emphasis seems to be mainly on quantity rather than quality - maximum number of degrees for minimum input in terms teaching staff and facilities. (In fact, considering the ridiculously low numbers of teaching staff in universities we are not doing THAT badly...) What I find incredible that we have this free education system with good-quality schooling up to the doctoral level and then we just WASTE it.

My own experience comes from archaeology, of course, but I have understood the situation is much the same regardless the field. As long as you are a wanna-be researcher doing your PhD, you may get funding through grants or a PhD school (if you are lucky and in a suitable field likely to get that kind of funding). But when you emerge from the university, a fledgeling researcher, you will find out that nobody will fund your research. The reason is that while there are quite a few grants for PhD students, there a significantly fewer of those for young researchers - to get post-doctoral research funding you have to be at first established in your field, but how to achieve that in the first place? Moreover, no employer wants you. You are considered over-educated, too theoretical and alienated from "real" work. Besides, heavens forbid, you might want to have a bigger salary because of your higher education! If your background is in humanities, there is the additional problem of being a specialist in a non-productive field. Here in Finland we have a firm belief in education also in that sense that you are not fit to do anything else than what you were educated for - unless, of course, that "else" is working in an institutional cleaning company.

No wonder there have not been any Nobel prizes in science coming to Finland since A.I.Virtanen in 1945. Those bright enough to do so leave the country and do not come back. In fact, even if they wanted to return, they will find it very hard because the experience and skills they have gained abroad is not valued - not in the sense of money nor in the sense of job opportunities. (This insular attitude is, of course, even more pronounced when it comes to foreigners, but that is another story.)

Somebody tell me, how can we afford this?!

PS. Btw, I've been considering trying to get a post-doc post abroad when my doctoral thesis is finally finished... Specializing in any field in archaeology in Finland seems to be a career suicide. Well... you might actually say that studying archaeology is a career suicide. :)

You can't choose your ancestors, or can you?

Besides the virtual lectures, I'm also teaching on another course with live audience. The subject is general archaeology, and the course is basically supposed to include no less than the prehistory of the whole world, although by the dept. of archaeology tradition and by restrictions set by limited time, the view tends to be centered on prehistoric Europe. Yes, you might ask like my dissertation's supervisor, how and why a person supposedly specializing on the Late Classical Near East is doing this. Well, you see, I still need to eat even after I ran out of my research grant, and in fact I rather like teaching (I can hear the teen-age me howling in terror and despair, as one of the reasons I started studying something as useless as ethnology was my firm intention never to end up as a teacher).

Anyway, on last Tuesday I got to start the course by introducing our ancestors to the students. Having to go through more than 20 million years of human evolution in three hours I barely had the time to present the bare bones of the subject (quite literally). I tried to put on a lively show, but by the end of the session the group of students seemed slightly stunned and more than a little glassy-eyed. I honestly think I got more out of the subject myself, while preparing the lecture.

I'm sure I'm not the first to notice these things, but because this was something of an interesting notion to me, I'd like to share it. It is about Lucy, the fossil Australopithecus afarensis. When Lucy was found, she was quickly dubbed our ancestral mother, as it was thought at the time that we are descended from the Australopithecini. However, recently the human family tree has been extensively pruned and grafted, and now it seems that the Australopithecini were a branch separate from us. This heavy-handed gardening stripped Lucy of the status of our esteemed great-grandmother, a change which I think is reflected in these two reconstructions which I happened to find in the Internet when browsing for illustrations for my lecture.


In the first one, which is said to be from a French museum, Lucy is portrayed as remarkably human. The second one I found on BBC's site. It is a recent reconstruction and probably closer to the reality - Australopithecini were quite chimp-like in body, with the one remarkable difference: they walked on two feet. But it would not do to portray our grandmother as an ape, would it now? However, after Lucy lost her post-humously acquired touch of humanity, it is quite acceptable to do so, and by doing, to distance ourselves from these less-successful relatives.

Virtually there

I have become a virtual teacher. I am teaching the rudiments of archaeology on an internet course in the open university. In practice this means that the students follow the lectures at three different locations over the country. What is sort of silly is that the students sit in a classroom and listen. So they don't have their own computers and microphones and the interaction part of the lecture is nearly non-existent. The only way to communicate is using the chat function of Connect Pro, the program we use for broadcasting the lectures.For the students, I am a talking head on a screen. For me they are even more unreal. Because they have no microphones, I'm talking into a complete silence which feels very weird. Luckily I can at least see a few of them in a webcam picture, so I know there is somebody out there, but I can't really see their reactions - whether they seem to be interested or bored out of their minds.

Am I witnessing the future of teaching in universities?

Hooray!

My article has been accepted for publication!

Of course I will have to do some editing, but still, this feels like a small victory. And it gives me some hope that maybe, after all, I will get my PhD one day, although not necessarily as soon as I would have wished (if you read my profile carefully you may notice a small but significant change). Oh well, as a past Finnish president said, one has to acknowledge realities.

End of season

The field season is over. I am currently in Amman, trying to get used to the idea of returning home in a couple of days. A month of fieldwork in Jordan is such an intensive experience that I find it hard to orientate myself to the normal life. I am often feeling strangely detached and a little bit blue. Helsinki looks alien and simple tasks like shopping groceries or taking a tram are confusing experiences, not the least because I can't decide what language I should speak.

To sum up the season in Jarash, I met many nice people I hope to keep in some contact with in the future, I learned lots of new things - although not necessarily those things I expected to learn, and I found out that being an archaeologist is still my dream job. In short, I enjoyed this season in Jarash enormously. Thank you everyone who were there with me. Tusen, tusen tack.

Home abroad

It is very good to be in Petra again. This is only a three days holiday in the middle of the excavation season, but it has been nice to see old friends and acquintances. And to move on my own - in Jarash we ladies are not allowed to go to the town without being accompanied by a male member of the team, due to some incident a couple of years back. Also, after spending altogether closer to a year here (in bits and pieces), this place has a certain feeling of being a home abroad. When I left in 2005 I had no idea when, if ever, I'm coming back. I did not quite fall to my knees and kiss the ground, but... yes, it is nice to be here.

After we come back from Petra, the students (and I) are being rotated to new squares. I might even get to do a little sounding of my own. I'm very excited about that! My previous fieldwork experience in Jordan has been almost exclusively survey, so this has all been new to me. Although of course most excavation skills are transferable to almost any environment. Speaking of which, I got to do my first Harris matrix since my own fieldschool in 1995 yesterday. Heh.

See Jarash and fry

Back in Jordan for the first time in almost three years. For those who haven't read the previous entries, or just forgot, I volunteered in a Danish-Jordanian excavation project. We are digging the remains of an early Islamic mosque, a Byzantine bath house and various other buildings just in the crossroads of the Cardo and the South Decumanus, so drop to visit if you happen to be walking past.

To tell about the conditions here in just a few words because the connection is really slow: The people are nice and the food is excellent - I have developed a taste for Near Eastern cooking over the years, provided there is some variation from the chicken&rice theme. The accommodation is not bad, by excavation standards - we have showers and toilets although of course water is scarce and the toilets do not flush but that is not really a problem. So far in the square I'm working in we have been just removing mixed layers of recent topsoil. The work is hot, dirty and backbreaking and far from glorious, which seems to come as a bit of a disillusionment for the field school students on their first dig. :)

So I am alive.