Helsinki breadline offers Mayor Pajunen food for thought
Last year 120,000 food parcels distributed by volunteers in Myllypuro
By Riku Jokinen
Three women tell their stories at the loading platform at the Liikuntamylly sports centre in Myllypuro in the east of Helsinki.
Pirjo is having her debts consolidated, and Ritva is unemployed. Satu lost her good job to illness, and since then nothing has seemed to go right.
"Are you really the Mayor?" Satu asks as she looks at the man with the familiar face.
"I'm the Lord Mayor", smiles Jussi Pajunen, reminding her of the official title.
Hundreds of people gather at the building every Tuesday and Friday to pick up free food. On this cold Friday there are only 450 people there. Often there are twice that number.
Shivering in the yard are native-born Finns, immigrants, and returning migrants. There are people from all over Helsinki, but most of them are from Myllypuro, Vuosaari, and Mellunmäki.
Last year there were more than 120,000 visits to the breadline maintained by the Herttoniemi Parish of the Evangelical Lutheran Church - more than ever before.
Helsingin Sanomat brought the Mayor to acquaint himself with the activities of the Myllypuro food and service group. At the same time Pajunen is fulfilling a New Year's resolution that he made - to familiarise himself with the breadlines.
"This is pretty rough. I don't get anything from the Social Insurance Institution. This helps me a lot", Satu says to Pajunen, who nods silently.
Satu would like the City of Helsinki to become more involved in this kind of work. Now the food distribution is in the hands of the Herttoniemi Parish, the Salvation Army, and Heikki Hursti. According to Pajunen, the city does not plan to get into food distribution, because he feels that it is an activity for voluntary organisations and the church. However, Helsinki will continue to provide support for the activities in Myllypuro.
Mayor Pajunen himself has not had to fear that he might suffer a pauper's fate. The wealth of his family is based on the business activities launched by his grandfather Edvard Pajunen. The Alepa retail stores were sold to SOK in the 1980s.
However, breadlines do play a role in the personal history of Jussi Pajunen. People at the Baguette bakery set up by the Pajunen family in the late 1980s wondered what to do with bread that was not sold. At first, the surplus bread was fed to pigs.
"Then people from the Salvation Army came to wonder why good bread was allowed to go to waste", Pajunen recalls. "At that time, the Salvation Army started their breadlines, which made big headlines."
In the recession years of the early 1990s there was a plan to give food that had reached its sell-by date to the needy. The idea came from deaconess Liisa Rautala.
The distribution of food begins at half past nine after a moment of devotion.
"Number 16", a male voice calls out, as if it were a game of bingo. People with the number 16 on their cards get to go inside.
Rautala and volunteer worker Sinikka Backman feel that the distribution of food is more like the Lotto than a bingo game: the food that is available is that which the stores have not managed to sell.
There is enough bread, prepared foods, vegetables, and sausage for everyone. The lucky ones can get cakes, chicken fillets, turkey slices, Brie cheese, or spaghetti casserole.
"Unpretentious, efficient work", Pajunen comments.
Every year the volunteers bring EUR 4 million worth of food from 20 stores: food that would otherwise be dumped.
"The unemployed cannot afford to buy vegetables", says Tiina from Pihlajamäki.
No conversations ensue between Pajunen and those collecting the food. The people shivering in their winter coats walk past without looking to the side of the bread boxes.
One of the volunteer workers approaches to shake the Mayor's hand.
"I retired last autumn. I thought that this would be a good hobby", Aatto Hietala says.
Finally the volunteers have coffee with the special guest in the lounge by the loading platform. The furnishings are not exactly Biedermeier style, but everyone gets something to sit on.
"There are products of the last day on the table", says Vicar Veijo Vatka in a serious voice as he pours coffee into his paper cup.
This is not to suggest that the day of judgement is at hand; the clergyman is referring to the sell-by dates on the cream and pie.
"You don't get such luxury every day, do you?" Backman needles Pajunen.
"Sometimes I'm under crystal chandeliers, sometimes in different places", the Mayor answers pensively.
Helsingin Sanomat / First published in print 24.2.2007
RIKU JOKINEN / Helsingin Sanomat
riku.jokinen@hs.fi
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| 27.2.2007 - THIS WEEK |
 Helsinki breadline offers Mayor Pajunen food for thought |
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