How are American tourists treated in Finland

Fennistik - the name already suggests - is the science of the Finnish language, literature and culture. But what can students expect when they choose the subject? How do you find this rather unusual course of study, and what careers do you open up after graduation?

In episode 5 of our interview series, Birgit Kraus from the Technical University of Aschaffenburg tells how Finnish has accompanied her through her life since a fascinating summer stay in the north.

What connects you with Finland and how did you find your field of study?

I came to Finland as an au pair when I was 18 and was immediately impressed. I found the loneliness and tranquility in the summer house of my Finnish host family and the light of the north fascinating. It quickly became clear to me that I would come back. The following summer vacation I traveled through Finland and after graduating from high school I took several Finnish courses at the Summer University in Helsinki.

The university's focus on Finland was the decisive factor in choosing Greifswald as the place to study. At first I studied English and French to become a high school teacher, but the Finnish language persisted: I did my first internship at the Finnish-French school in Helsinki. After the intermediate examination and further summer courses in Finland, I decided, in addition to the teaching profession, for a double degree in Romance and French Studies in the Magister.

Which topics were you particularly interested in during your studies?

My main focus has always been on linguistics - and not only when studying French studies: syntax, translation studies, contrastive linguistics, preferably Finnish-French. I also enjoyed reading Leena Lander's novels, the short stories by Maria Jotuni and Finnish-American literature.

Which path did you take after graduating and what are you doing today?

After completing my studies, I spent a postgraduate year at the University of Vaasa, funded by the DAAD, and then completed my legal clerkship in Germany.
For the next ten years I worked in various positions at universities or in the university-related environment: as a DAAD lecturer in Strasbourg, as an employee in the field of course development in Darmstadt and as a consultant at an accreditation agency. At the same time, I trained in science management.

I have been a consultant for university development and quality management at TH Aschaffenburg since 2014. I advise the university management on strategy development, especially internationalization, conduct surveys and much more.

What role does the Fennistik or the Finnish language play in your life?

My son has a Finnish first name and sings Finnish songs enthusiastically, even if he doesn't really understand the lyrics. I still maintain good contact with my Finnish friends. I've also had the magazine for many years Suomen Kuvalehti subscribe to and regularly watch Finnish news on the Internet. When I have the time, I read current Finnish novels. The Finnish President's reception is an absolute must on Independence Day. And every time I'm in Finland I still feel at home.

Professionally, my language skills also benefit me; when I was hired in Aschaffenburg, they were perhaps even the decisive criterion. The TH Aschaffenburg offers double degree programs with the universities of applied sciences in Seinäjoki and Turku. So it is helpful for my university that I have solid, up-to-date background knowledge about the Finnish education system and, if in doubt, can look up the wording in the Finnish University Act.

What advice would you give to a senior student of tennis studies?

Finnish is a wonderful logical language. One should not be discouraged by the case and the change in level, but rather internalize the system behind it.

Summer courses in Finland are very effective for a “level boost”, especially since they are sponsored by the Finnish state. The greatest challenge is having a good command of English in Finland. Interlocutors mean well and speak English immediately when they discover that they are talking to a foreigner. Patience and tenacity are required here. In the beginning I sometimes pretended that I could neither speak English nor German, and then, for better or worse, my counterpart had to be content with my Finnish.

I can warmly recommend internships and voluntary work for professional orientation. There you learn a lot about organization and project management, ideally even about finances. The additional acquisition of business administration skills does not hurt either, because not all of them can stay in science or teach German in Finland after completing their studies.
It is important to remain open to new ideas, to effectively present one's own skills and also to accept detours. As a humanities scholar, more doors are open to you than you might think. In particular, holistic thinking, thinking outside the box, e.g. B. through stays abroad, and ultimately also the linguistic fluency are increasingly valued in companies. In Finland and Germany there are many companies that need staff who can mediate between the two worlds. I finally found something like this for myself here in Aschaffenburg.

Fennistik - the name already suggests - is the science of the Finnish language, literature and culture. But what can students expect when they choose the subject? How do you find this rather unusual course of study, and what careers do you open up after graduation?

In the fourth episode of our series, Laura Stolz, the cultural advisor of the DFG Rhineland-Palatinate / Saarland, tells how she learned Finnish between Greifswald and the Arctic Circle, celebrated midsummer festivals, worked with fire and ice sculptures and as a tourism manager now balances Finland and Germany.


How did you discover Finland and tennis for yourself?

After graduating from high school, I went to Jyväskylä as an au pair. The reasons were actually simple: I wanted to find out what I would like to do after school and also learn some Finnish, because as a semi-finisher I had attended the Finnish school in Wiesbaden, but couldn't form Finnish sentences, let alone talk to my Finnish relatives .

In Jyväskylä I quickly got to know some German au pairs and found out about the possibility of studying fencing in Germany, more precisely in Greifswald. So I decided to start my studies there in the next winter semester.

What expectations did you have of your studies and what did you particularly like?

The main aim of my studies was to acquire language skills so that I could converse in Finnish. A language scholarship for a one-month stay in Savonlinna through the then Center for International Mobility CIMO and an Erasmus year in Joensuu enabled me to enormously expand the language skills I acquired in Greifswald. It was certainly also helpful that during the Erasmus year I was able to live with my aunt, with whom I communicated daily in Finnish.

I enjoyed the regional and grammar courses in Greifswald. I also liked the family atmosphere at the Nordic Institute and the charm of the historic villa in which the institute was still located at the time. We had many opportunities there to celebrate Nordic festivals, such as the Pikkujoulu celebration before Christmas, the celebrations for Finland's Independence Day, the Lucia Festival of Lights and the Midsummer Festival of Juhannus, but also karaoke evenings together.

After my bachelor's degree in Greifswald, I moved to the Arctic Circle for two years to study the European Master in Arts, Culture and International Management at the University of Rovaniemi.

What experiences did you take with you from your studies in Finland?

I really enjoyed my studies - first in Joensuu and then in Rovaniemi - because we students had a relatively large amount of freedom in choosing subjects. The fact that I was based at the art faculty gave me the opportunity to attend many exciting courses and excursions, such as an excursion to Kilpisjärvi, where students and doctoral students from the arts and natural sciences developed joint projects. There were also workshops with fire and ice sculptures.

How did you continue after your studies?

While I was writing my master's thesis, I worked as an intern for four months at the Finland Institute in Berlin, where I made many contacts with Finnish artists and cultural workers and met some musicians I had already met in Rovaniemi. Unfortunately, this internship didn't help me get over the difficulties of finding a job in cultural management. That may be because I didn't do any other internships during my studies to specialize: cultural management is a broad area and ranges from marketing to event organization and museum work. After a few part-time jobs and numerous applications, I was allowed to do an internship at an art association in Stuttgart. This activity was the basis for my traineeship at Bronnbach Abbey in Wertheim, where I worked in the field of cultural management / cultural marketing and was finally accepted for my current position as tourism manager.

In my current job, of course, I still try to incorporate some Finnish culture. That is why I am involved as a cultural advisor for the Rhineland-Palatinate / Saarland regional association of the German-Finnish Society. In this honorary position, I organize concerts for Finnish musicians. It's really fun, because I get to listen to their music live at the DFG's annual culture conference in Helsinki and have a say in who comes to tour with us next year.

What advice would you give to an aspiring student of fen studies?

Since Fennistik is an orchid subject, I would recommend orientating yourself during your studies in which direction you would like to go professionally. However, I think it is crucial that you study fencing studies out of interest, have fun with it and not be put off by the prejudices that you won't find a job with it anyway. An orchid subject often brings attention to application processes that should not be underestimated! And anyway, it is much more important to do something that you really want to do!

The mummy he touched in the excavation haunted Kristian into his dreams. In the last part of Marko Hautala's short story, you will find out today what really happened at that moment.

Kristian's death came as a shock to everyone, but especially to Riina.

She kept telling the details over and over, first to Pasi and Marja, then to the local authorities, then on the phone to the Finnish embassy representative, and finally to anyone who asked. Riina had woken up when Kristian was standing in the middle of the hotel room and speaking a foreign language in a loud voice. His face was pale and shiny with sweat. Then he sank to the ground.

I knew right away that he was deadsaid Riina.

Kristian's body could not be transported back to his homeland. Riina listened in disbelief as his parents explained what they had found out about the Finnish state's policy. Those who died abroad fell under the jurisdiction of the local authorities. The state did not pay for the repatriation of the deceased to his home country.

Kristian's parents did not have enough money to bring their son back to Finland, so they held a memorial service there instead of a funeral. The atmosphere was warm, but Riina couldn't shake the feeling that the farewell was incomplete. As she looked out the window of the chapel, she noticed a slow whirl of snow that the wind was driving across the parking lot. He made her think of the sand on the far bank of the Nile and that Kristian had been buried in the wrong country.

Then Riina did what was expected of an expectant mother: she put the grief behind her and gave birth to her child.

She lived her life on.

The desert moved in the night, hidden from people's eyes.

The dunes were in a different place every day, sometimes gently sloping, then rising again steeply. Scorpions dug new hiding places, lurked in the dark. Listened to the secret movements of the grains of sand. The sickle-shaped eye of the Chons dominated the night sky until Re-Harachtes glow awoke in the east.

Kristian led three American tourists to the exit of the excavation and stopped now and then to point at hieroglyphs, the offering table or the shaft. The tourists could no longer concentrate because they had just seen the priestess. Their eyes stared restlessly out of their sunburned faces and the nervous laughter quickly ceased as the walls reflected the sound.

Arriving at the stairs, Kristian raised her finger to her lips and looked each of them intently in the eye. The tourists nodded tensely. Neither of them hesitated to take a picture when the priestess lay in front of them. Everyone had dared to touch her.

At the bottom of the steps Kristian blocked the exit. Time to pay, said his look. The money was found quickly because Hassan had advised them to have the bills ready ("twenty pounds, he'll ask more, but give him twenty pounds"). It was important to instill confidence. The feeling that Hassan wanted her best. So they came back, brought others with them.

Kristian looked at the money. Wretched, torn bills. But from them grew a river, fertile and frightening like the Nile.

"Thank you, but please ... more", Kristian begged.

It was only part of the show, but the tourists guiltily avoided his gaze, quickly climbed the rounded steps and headed for the battered Peugeot in which Hassan and Said were waiting. Kristian stopped at the entrance. He nodded to Hassan, who raised his hand a tiny bit and then said something to the driver.

The same thing was repeated day after day. The guards who had first shown Kristian the priestess had also taught him to attend to her needs. Then they said goodbye and went to an excavation in the south, near the town of Edfu.

As the car turned towards its next destination amid a yellowish-brown dust cloud, Kristian watched him go and sent the tourists advice after they had touched the priestess.

Serve herhe said silently, or dies two deaths.

In fact, it wasn't advice, it was an ultimatum. It was also a blessing. A promise that after the first death they would have a choice. If they sank to the floor in their hotel rooms at night, they could still overcome the paralysis. When they were ready to serve.

Oh great priestess you have been resuscitated!

They could wake up in the morgue and leave her on her own two feet like Kristian had done.

The cords of Seth that shut your mouth are open! Praise be to Atum!

You would get over the paralysis and walk again. Just as everyone who had slept for millennia in the monotheist museums could soon do it again, in glass showcases, under shameless glances.

O guardians of the members of Osiris, who let the light flow into their bodies so that nothing prevents them from walking on earth!

The priestess had told Kristian everything. The whole big plan. He had heard her voice and understood her words, even though the wrinkled lips and the dried-up tongue had not moved.

The duat opensthe priestess had said. The underground Nile begins to flow.

The resuscitators are returning. That is true a thousand times over.

The cracked bills from the Valley of the Kings, from the temples and the booths in the bazaar united to form a rushing river. They poured into the great river through secret channels, cunning as snakes. Every servant of Amun, from the clerk in the prehistoric finds office to the slightest trader who took a small amount of money from the sun-scorched monotheists, knew that their hard work prepared the day when Amun, Mut, and Chons would return. Widderallee was exposed under miserable city apartments. Soon it would once again connect the Karnak Temple and the places of worship in the center. Your walls have been restored and finished. The old drawings were spread out in the chambers. Forgotten technology, the secrets of underrated energy sources, was reflected in pupils dilated with reverence.

The rays of the Re-Harachte would set the cruise liners ablaze on the Nile. The Aswan Dam would be conquered. Dozing Cairo would go under before it could even move.Thebes would flourish again and look north across the Mediterranean.

Kristian had listened frozen to the words of the priestess, as one of many. One of those who was still frozen and stunned to have come back from paralysis.

He had listened and understood that he was right about one thing: it had been a fraud. Everything from the start. The biggest and best hidden fraud in world history. And now he was part of it.

When Hassan's Peugeot was just a speck of dust on the edge of the desert, Kristian touched the cracked notes with his fingertips and noticed that his thoughts were wandering again. He wondered how the coming flood would treat the people of the far north, whether it would carry them or drown them. Would she spare the woman whose name he no longer remembered? Would she spare the child whose name he would never know?

What are you thinking?

The words tore Kristian from his twilight state. He turned and looked down into the excavation, but his eyes were blinded by the glowing sand.

The figure of the priestess was just a movement in the shadows.

Kristian went down the steps and felt around in the dark until he touched the dry, smooth skin of her face. The faint hum of dormant energy tickled his fingertips like the fleeting flare of a distant stream.

"To you, Your Highness," he assured, although he felt the doubt in her eyeless gaze. The figure of the priestess might look fragile like papyrus or a sand statue, but at times she felt the wrath of the lion-headed goddess Sekhmet. She had separated flesh from bones. Arms torn out, tongues, genital organs.

"Only to you."

Translated from the Finnish by Claudia Nierste

When we last left our heroes Kristian, Riina, Marja and Pasi, they were just taking their first hesitant steps into the dark interior of a temple with the firm intention of seeing a real mummy. You can find out how they will continue today in the sequel to the short story by Marko Hautala.

One of the men disappeared through a low doorway into a pitch-dark chamber.

The others stayed behind and looked at the hieroglyphics and engravings on the walls through narrowed eyelids. Anubis, Thoth, Osiris. On the scales the heart of the deceased and the pen of the goddess Maat. Kristian recognized the familiar images from the Book of the Dead that represented the last judgment. Without the shopkeepers and the army of sun hats in view, they looked very different.

The glowing cigarette of the guard who had slipped into the chamber reappeared in the doorway. The man was carrying an elongated object under his arm. He tucked the cigarette into the corner of his mouth and presented them with something light and stiff, like a cardboard doll, with both hands. The second guard pointed the flashlight at it.

Riina took a deep breath and took a step back.

In the light coming from below, the terrible facial features emerged clearly.

The nose was missing and the eye sockets were empty. The skin was smooth, dark gray, and curved inward as if it were about to collapse. Black gums peeked out from between the shriveled lips, in which there were still a few pitiful stumps of teeth. Beyond that, something jutted up that might be the tongue that was dried up in the mouth. A meager piece of cloth hung under the chin, perhaps the remains of a shroud.

"Oh shit." Marja let out a nervous laugh and felt for Pasi's hand.

The guard's flashlight moved down from his face, illuminating the body. The skin stretched over the rib bones like dark parchment and was torn on the stomach on the left side. The arms were thin as sticks and unnaturally straight at the sides. The legs seemed to be nothing but bones, perfectly straight, apart from the spherical knees and pointed feet.

“It can't be real,” said Kristian, but wasn't sure whether he believed his own words.

The guard interpreted this as a desire to touch the mummy and brought her closer. Kristian tried to fend off, but the man didn't give up.

"Do you really want to touch her?" Asked Riina.

"Of course not," answered Kristian.

Still, his hand moved toward the mummy. Perhaps it was a need to expose another attempt at fraud. Maybe it felt good that for the first time during the entire vacation, Riina was the one who worried about him. In any case, he reached out and touched the mummy's head.

"What are you doing there?" Riina asked with an incredulous laugh.

Pasi and Marja couldn't utter a word.

Kristian ran her fingers over the mummy's skin. It was unnaturally smooth. He could well imagine how the millennia had worn away the pores.

"Congratulations," said Pasi. “You're getting some ancient Egyptian super diarrhea now. Suffer the rest of the trip from the curse of the mummy. "

Marja let out a nervous, too loud laugh, as if she wanted to apologize for her husband's joke.

Kristian's fingers jerked back from the mummy's skin as if they had been electrocuted. He wiped his hand on his cotton shorts until he realized that he was only taking the bacteria to another place, fumbled the bottle of AntiBac out of his pocket and rubbed his fingers with disinfectant gel. He'd used so much of it on this trip that the others had laughed at it.

"Is that a real Pharaoh?" Asked Marja, as if he could feel it with his fingertips.

"A pharaoh, eh?" Pasi laughed and nudged his wife with his elbow. "That's a priestess."

"Pharaohs have crossed their arms on their chests," Riina said absently and looked at her husband worriedly.

Kristian did not take part in the conversation. He shook his fingers, which were still cool from the gel, and was amazed at his sudden courage.

The guard offered the mummy to the others to touch, but when they hastily stepped back a few steps and shook their heads, the man let it slide to the ground. He stepped aside and gestured that they could take photos.

"Come on, do one," said Pasi to Marja.

"I do not know…"

"It was desecration when he was carrying them like a construction worker a wooden plank," remarked Pasi. "We have to perpetuate that."

The women took a few pictures without the flash, only in the light of the flashlights. Over Riina's shoulder, Kristian saw the frozen mummy on the display of the cell phone, which seemed to float in the air in the eerily pale light. The empty eye sockets, the black gums, the dried up tongue.

After the hasty photo session, they nodded thanks to the guards, primarily to get away from here. Kristian was sure that pictures of fresher corpses from the news were haunted in the minds of the others too. From those who looked at them when it was up for discussion whether a trip to Egypt would be safe.

The guard threw his cigarette on the floor, kicked it out with the tip of his shoe, and then tucked the mummy under his arm. The careless about-face in the narrow room made Kristian fear that the man would hit his load against the wall. For a brief moment a terrible picture stood before his eyes, in which they were trying to glue the head of the priestess of Muti back on. However, the carrying operation succeeded with routine security. The guard and the mummy disappeared into the dark through the low doorway. The man who stayed behind raised his forefinger to his lips again and looked each one of them in the eye.

After the stairs led them back to the light of day, the begging for money began. They paid twenty pounds, as Hassan had said, and walked away with steadfast strides, even if the men indicated that there was not enough money. The Peugeot was waiting where they'd left it. The engine roared and they squeezed back onto the holey upholstery. This time it was Kristian's turn to crawl behind the seats.

"Did you like it?"

Hassan's smile had grown even wider.

"Yes," said Kristian, sounding more enthusiastic than he'd wanted. "It was really ... exciting."

"Has the priestess behaved according to her position?"

"But yes," answered Pasi. "Very formal and stiff."

Hassan laughed and clapped his hands together.

"Excellent! Then we're going to go to my cousin's shop now. He sells jugs and statues made from real alabaster and basalt. Anything you can imagine! No cheap copies like in the bazaar. "

"Great," said Marja and looked at the others meaningfully.

From Hassan's eager-talking cousin, they bought three statues of the goddess Isis, some anubis sculptures, and so many different jugs and scarabs that none of them remembered exactly what they had bought after they were all wrapped in newspaper. After a few beers on the terrace of a restaurant on the banks of the Nile, Hassan took them to the boat harbor, where they paid for their guide and boarded a small felucca over a swaying plank. The outboard engine spat black smoke as the driver, no more than twelve years old, set course for the east bank.

Hassan waved to them from the quay, a thick wad of bills in hand, and then started a conversation with a man in a pale blue jallabiya who had appeared next to him. Kristian felt the irresistible urge to touch the water that rushed along the side of the boat, even if the travel guide warned of parasites living in the Nile, which could eat their way through the skin, trigger cramps and delusions and even kill them.

That didn't seem important now, because after touching the mummy Kristian felt present for the first time during the vacation, as if he was really experiencing it all.

His fingertips tickled pleasantly as they nearly brushed the lukewarm waters of the Nile.

"Do you guys have another drink?" Asked Kristian.

Pasi peered into the foam at the bottom of his Sakara bottle and then gave Marja a questioning look.

"Why not," he said after some kind of silent exchange of words. Kristian, in turn, gave Riina a questioning look, although he knew full well that she would not drink beer. His wife's glass contained deep red karkadeh, which could easily be mistaken for wine. In his intoxicated state, Kristian thought that it would have been better to just tell Pasi and Marja about the pregnancy.

When the beer bottles were opened, they sat for a moment without saying a word.

The landscape in front of the river-side balcony of the Isis Pyramisa Hotel was enchanting, especially now that the sun had set behind the mountain peaks. Beyond the mountains rested the Valley of the Kings with its tombs.

During the whole holiday they had gathered on Kristian's and Riina's balcony in the evening, because Pasi and Marja had been given a room facing the street that did not offer a particularly great view. From here you could see the Nile glittering between the palm trees, on which boats with high sails glided by, and you could hear the last calls to prayer of the evening. They resounded from the towers of the mosques as if answering one another.

Kristian had the distinct feeling that someone had woken him from the half-sleep of the tourist. The palm leaves stood out sharper against the darkening, turquoise sky. He didn't want to worry anymore. Not because of the terrorists, not because of Riina, not because of the fraudsters.

“That's where they brought the dead,” said Kristian, as if he had only just realized after shaking the sand from the west bank out of his sandals and stretching out in a rickety wicker chair like all tourists in Luxor at that time in the evening. “There behind the mountains. The west was the land of the dead, for who knows how many millennia. Imagine that. All that effort. The embalming lasted seventy days, the hair was shaved off, the entrails removed, and the bodies soaked in some liquid and wrapped in towels. Then they were brought there. "

"Yes," Riina replied when it became clear that no one else would answer. "Now there are only brain-dead tourists and even more dead mummies."

Pasi laughed and took a sip of beer.

“Was it really real?” Asked Marja. She sounded a little drunk. When you were really tired, even the thin sakara plum rose insidiously to your head.

"I think so," answered Kristian.

Silence followed his words. Then everyone burst out laughing violently.

“Our narrow-minded friend is finally starting to thaw,” Pasi exclaimed. "From now on he will believe everything the swindlers tell him in the bazaar."

Kristian laughed with the others. He knew he'd been spoiling the whole trip. How pointless it was.

As darkness fell, Riina leaned against Kristian's shoulder. They listened to Pasi's drunken monologue about Erich von Däniken and about the fact that the ancient Egyptian gods were actually humanoid aliens, and watched the bats on their frantic flights in the twilight between the crowns of the palm trees.

Kristian had finally arrived. The warm wind tickled the hair on his skin. That was real.

Kristian fell asleep almost immediately after falling into bed next to Riina like a rock. His sleep remained light, however, and he was soon awakened from a nightmare with worms writhing in his fingertips. Before the tiredness pulled him back over the border to unconsciousness, a thought of the unborn child drove through his mind.

At first it remained vague and without a fixed appearance, plaguing his dreaming mind until it solidified into an image, to the doorway in the excavation, from the darkness of which the mummy emerged and into which it had disappeared again.

Kristian woke up again, but barely managed to open her eyes. Sleep caught him again so quickly it felt like falling. In his last vision he was standing on the night west bank of the Nile, where not a single tourist could be seen. He raised his head. The crescent moon stared down from a cloudless sky, the gaze of a disembodied god.

Then complete darkness.

Continued in part 3

Fennistik - the name already suggests - is the science of the Finnish language, literature and culture. But what can students expect when they choose the subject? How do you find this rather unusual course of study, and what careers do you open up after graduation?

In the third episode of our series, Ilse Winkler reports on surprising discoveries on vacation, Finnish fracture printing in Greifswald and her experiences on the job market.

How did you discover Finland and tennis for yourself?

During my vacation, I fell in love with the country and its people and, above all, with the Finnish language. Of course I had heard that it was next to impossible to learn Finnish, but then the landlady of our Mökki told me the following: A few Finnish-language entries in her guest book came from a German woman who had been vacationing there for many years. - Then I knew it could be done. After the vacation, I immediately enrolled in a Finnish course at the adult education center in Germany. When I ran out of courses over the years because there weren't enough course participants at my level, I realized that as a German studies graduate, I was ready for a master's degree in fencing.

What were you particularly interested in during your studies?

Everything related to Finland. The fact that Swedish (language acquisition, literature, phonetics, etc.) took up so much space with my second subject in Scandinavian Studies was, to be honest, rather annoying to me. I found the history of the language and literature of Finnish particularly interesting. As a highlight I found the old newspapers with fracture printing that Prof. Pantermöller brought with him and whose articles gave a good insight into the Finnish mentality.

What did you do after graduating?

I've attended translation seminars, networked with the German literary industry as best I could, and tried to get my foot in the door of the translation business.

What advice would you give to an aspiring student of fen studies?

It's hard to answer. If you are enthusiastic about the north and are willing to immerse yourself in the subject for a few years, it is definitely highly recommended. It's fun and a topic of conversation at every party, because who knows Finnish? But: You should know that after completing their studies, only a few will live exclusively from the Fen Studies. It is better if you build up a second mainstay.