Further to John Reed's comment I understand the 'l' in tuloa is pronounced. This would make it ''tu lo a' as in 'you lo are', thus you are coming. Here is a jolly song using the word.
I’m no expert on Finland, but I’m a huge fan of Sibelius. That love of his music led me to closer ties with Finns themselves, and I’ve come to find them genuinely salt-of-the-earth people.
If I were casting The Lord of the Rings, I’d place them as hobbits in the Shire—quietly competent, grounded, happy with their local milieu, and entirely uninterested in unnecessary drama. When Finns do speak, it often feels as though every element has already been weighed before an opinion is offered—something solid, down-to-earth, and stripped of frills. If you want fire, go Latin; if you want honesty, move to Finland.
Those more familiar with Finnish culture often appreciate the joke about Finns being culturally and linguistically distinct from their Finno-Ugric brethren—especially Hungarians, whose language is one of the very few closely related to Finnish.
One well-known joke goes:
“When the Finno-Ugric peoples migrated from the east,
those who could read went to Finland,
those who couldn’t went to Hungary.”
It’s a playful anachronism. No one is suggesting ancient nomads were literate—it’s a modern joke poking fun at Finnish being highly phonetic and orderly, while Hungarian is famously complex, even to Hungarians themselves.
There’s another popular, self-mocking joke about Finnish reservedness compared to Swedish sociability:
A Finnish man and a Swedish man are drinking in a pub.
The Swedish man says, “Hello.”
The Finnish man looks at him and replies,
“Are we drinking, or are we talking?”
For me, that one captures the stereotype perfectly: Finnish minimalism with words, comfort with silence, and a preference for doing over chatting. These jokes are affectionate, not hostile—and are most often told by Finns themselves.
In a world that never stops talking, there’s something quietly admirable about a culture that knows when silence is enough.
Tervetuloa to an amazing 2026 for you and your family, BaLdmicheal!!
The 'l' is not sounded? Eh? Yes it is. In Finnish, if a letter is written, it is sounded. And Finnish doesn't have any epenthetic sounds either. Orthography and pronunciation: 100% match.
Thanks John. I initially thought it was pronounced then thought it wasn't. I will add pinned comment to reflect what you say. I dare say the 'l' gets blurred in speech.
I gets blurred in speech. I don't think it's the "l." It's probably the "t," since in Finnish pronunciation the unvoiced stops (t, p, k) aren't aspirated (are not followed by an "h" sound). Whereas in English they are. So when a Finnish person pronounces an English word with an unvoiced stop in it, like "coil," the non-aspiration of the initial k sound creates a lot of problems, at least for me, because the sound doesn't register on me; I can't tell if they are trying to say "coil," or "toil," or "boil" (voiced stops aren't usually very voiced in Finnish), or some other word entirely. So there could be some confusion over both "t"s in tervetuloa, especially the second one, and that confusion might carry over into the "l."
Since you enjoy word searches, I wonder if you would like to take this one on. :)
I would be interested to know when January 1 was designated as the “new year.” I have heard or read that the founding fathers of America believed the new year began in March, which is the reason that the president used to be inaugurated in March. That would line up with the meanings of the names of the months: SEPTember (7), OCTober (8), NOVember (9), DECember (10), making January the 11th month, February the 12th month, and March the first month. This would also align more closely with God’s new year beginning in Nisan (March/April) in the spring.
I would like to know:
1.) when people started calling January the first month and January 1 “new year’s day,”
2.) how the wrong numbers got assigned to months that, within their very etymology, mean something different, and
3.) how everyone went along with this misnumbering without anyone saying anything or pointing out the discrepancy. How did they (whoever they are) pull this off?
Many thanks for asking. You will see that I decided to do a short post trying to answer your questions as best I could. There is another post just before it too called Calendar based on something I did in 2022 on my WordPress site.
Further to John Reed's comment I understand the 'l' in tuloa is pronounced. This would make it ''tu lo a' as in 'you lo are', thus you are coming. Here is a jolly song using the word.
Tervetuloa! ♫
Jan 5, 2021
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QgIb_322Aqk
I’m no expert on Finland, but I’m a huge fan of Sibelius. That love of his music led me to closer ties with Finns themselves, and I’ve come to find them genuinely salt-of-the-earth people.
If I were casting The Lord of the Rings, I’d place them as hobbits in the Shire—quietly competent, grounded, happy with their local milieu, and entirely uninterested in unnecessary drama. When Finns do speak, it often feels as though every element has already been weighed before an opinion is offered—something solid, down-to-earth, and stripped of frills. If you want fire, go Latin; if you want honesty, move to Finland.
Those more familiar with Finnish culture often appreciate the joke about Finns being culturally and linguistically distinct from their Finno-Ugric brethren—especially Hungarians, whose language is one of the very few closely related to Finnish.
One well-known joke goes:
“When the Finno-Ugric peoples migrated from the east,
those who could read went to Finland,
those who couldn’t went to Hungary.”
It’s a playful anachronism. No one is suggesting ancient nomads were literate—it’s a modern joke poking fun at Finnish being highly phonetic and orderly, while Hungarian is famously complex, even to Hungarians themselves.
There’s another popular, self-mocking joke about Finnish reservedness compared to Swedish sociability:
A Finnish man and a Swedish man are drinking in a pub.
The Swedish man says, “Hello.”
The Finnish man looks at him and replies,
“Are we drinking, or are we talking?”
For me, that one captures the stereotype perfectly: Finnish minimalism with words, comfort with silence, and a preference for doing over chatting. These jokes are affectionate, not hostile—and are most often told by Finns themselves.
In a world that never stops talking, there’s something quietly admirable about a culture that knows when silence is enough.
Tervetuloa to an amazing 2026 for you and your family, BaLdmicheal!!
The 'l' is not sounded? Eh? Yes it is. In Finnish, if a letter is written, it is sounded. And Finnish doesn't have any epenthetic sounds either. Orthography and pronunciation: 100% match.
Thanks John. I initially thought it was pronounced then thought it wasn't. I will add pinned comment to reflect what you say. I dare say the 'l' gets blurred in speech.
I gets blurred in speech. I don't think it's the "l." It's probably the "t," since in Finnish pronunciation the unvoiced stops (t, p, k) aren't aspirated (are not followed by an "h" sound). Whereas in English they are. So when a Finnish person pronounces an English word with an unvoiced stop in it, like "coil," the non-aspiration of the initial k sound creates a lot of problems, at least for me, because the sound doesn't register on me; I can't tell if they are trying to say "coil," or "toil," or "boil" (voiced stops aren't usually very voiced in Finnish), or some other word entirely. So there could be some confusion over both "t"s in tervetuloa, especially the second one, and that confusion might carry over into the "l."
Since you enjoy word searches, I wonder if you would like to take this one on. :)
I would be interested to know when January 1 was designated as the “new year.” I have heard or read that the founding fathers of America believed the new year began in March, which is the reason that the president used to be inaugurated in March. That would line up with the meanings of the names of the months: SEPTember (7), OCTober (8), NOVember (9), DECember (10), making January the 11th month, February the 12th month, and March the first month. This would also align more closely with God’s new year beginning in Nisan (March/April) in the spring.
I would like to know:
1.) when people started calling January the first month and January 1 “new year’s day,”
2.) how the wrong numbers got assigned to months that, within their very etymology, mean something different, and
3.) how everyone went along with this misnumbering without anyone saying anything or pointing out the discrepancy. How did they (whoever they are) pull this off?
Many thanks for asking. You will see that I decided to do a short post trying to answer your questions as best I could. There is another post just before it too called Calendar based on something I did in 2022 on my WordPress site.
Happy New Year!
Happy New Year to you & yours!