Entering Finland – An Experience in Immigration Entry Contrasts

University of Louisville Brandeis School of Law professor JoAnne Sweeny is spending some time in Finland on a Fulbright. Congratulations, JoAnne! She recently entered Finland for the first time, and her experience with Finnish immigration control differs vastly from what one would experience entering the United States. I’ll let her tell you about it:

Let me explain immigration in Finland. So, I have a weird situation because my husband is an EU citizen and, therefore, I am considered an EU dependent. Therefore, to enter Finland for my Fulbright, I didn’t have to apply early for a visa.

Instead, my husband applied for a residence permit for us through his EU citizenship. This was all done online through an online application and the submission of pdf scans of various official forms such as our marriage certificate and our son’s birth certificate. We also had to get an apostille for those documents. More on that later.

Anyway, he submitted everything and we were given an appointment time and day at the immigration center in Helsinki. But we were given nothing official other than that.

So, we were going to enter Finland with the intent to stay more than 90 days (so no tourist visa) with zero documentation that we were allowed to do so. The lack of documentation terrified me, to be honest. And my husband had done all the paperwork so I never saw the process and my inner control freak was… well, freaking out.

So, we get to passport control in Helsinki and they told us we were allowed to go into the EU citizen line – not all countries allow that, so that was a good sign. However, the international line was shorter, so we did that one instead. I walked up first to the immigration official – a youngish woman with red hair shaved closer on the sides with a small topknot (it looked badass) and handed her the passports for me and my son. My husband stood behind us and held on to his passport, possibly to be able to flee and disavow us later if something bad went down.

I need to add here that I expected emotionless efficiency at the border. Finns are not known for their gregariousness and if you add border control to that mix, well, it can’t help but make someone bring out their poker face a-game.

So, anyway, she takes the passports and asks how long we intend to stay. Ok, here we go. The short truth is about three weeks – we already have plans to go to Italy at the end of January because hell yeah. So, technically, we’re only here for a few weeks. But that’s not the whole truth because we’ll be back again for a few weeks and then off to Ireland for my son’s birthday and then back and then off again a few weeks later for… wait, I don’t want to spoil the surprise. Let’s just say that I’m living in Europe for, in total, about six months and I am going to squeeze in as much as possible. So there’s gonna be some country hopping. There just is.

But all that hopping is bound to be noticed by the Finnish government at some point so, I figure, honesty is my best policy.

How long will be I be in Finland? “Until May” I tell her.

This answer makes her pause thoughtfully for a second. So, being an American who can’t shut up, I explain myself before she even asks.

“I have a Fulbright Award and I’ll be teaching at the University of Turku.”

This does not seem to impress her. Not that I think it should but any kind of positive response would be encouraging. But, no, my badass topknot immigration viking goddess appears unmoved. Or maybe I can’t read Finnish faces yet.

Her next question: “Do you have a residence permit?”

Ah, the fun part. “No, we applied online and have an appointment with the Immigration Center tomorrow.”

No reaction from her as she looks at her monitor and then our passports.

I turn nervously to my husband who has not fled yet. “Do we have any paperwork from them?” He looks confused and then says no.

I am feeling very nervous at this point. How can I prove that I’ve applied for the permit? Where’s my email? My confirmation number? I can’t order movie tickets online without a confirmation number or a pdf with a barcode. And that’s to see Ant Man and the Wasp (last movie I saw in the theater, no joke, we don’t get out much).

I turn to the immigration goddess with what must have been desperation in my eyes. “Do you need a confirmation email? Our appointment is tomorrow at 10am.”

Sidenote: I was totally wrong about that. Our appointment was at 1pm. Why did I think 10am? WHY DID I LIE TO HER?

My prevarication was never discovered, however. The immigration goddess (I really should have looked for her name, I could never be a journalist. Let’s just call her Emma. Please note that I will not go back and change her name throughout this blog. Enjoy the journey.).

Emma, for the first time, cracks a small smile. “No, I believe you,” she says.

Wait, what? You believe me? That’s it?

That was, in fact, it. She looked at all our passports, asked a few perfunctory questions, and sent us on our way with a final admonishment. “If you do not receive a residence permit, you must leave before 90 days.”

I felt the need to spill my guts a bit more. This was just way too easy. “Yes, of course. We’re actually going to Italy in about three weeks but I thought I should tell you the whole story.”

She nodded. “Yes.”

In that moment, I felt like we had suddenly become best friends, our minds in total agreement on everything. I feel like she really got me, you know?

But before we could exchange whatsapp numbers, my husband and son moved me past her booth and through the safety of the now-opened glass door next to her. We made it.

So, what’s the point of this story? One, I am no immigration law expert but, seeing what my husband – a US permanent resident – goes through when he returns to the United States stands in sharp contrast to what I experienced yesterday.

As I have mentioned, Finns are not known to be warm and cuddly. But, damn, Emma was calm, open and positively welcoming compared to what I’ve seen in the US. In US passport control, the atmosphere is tense, especially if you’re not a US citizen. They make my husband have his retinas scanned just to enter his country of residence, and he is a white Irish guy, so pretty acceptable as foreigners go in America.

And in Finland, they let me in with just an assurance that I would obtain a residence permit or leave within the required 90 days. It’s crazy. I felt like I’d somehow gotten away with something, even though I was completely (sometimes almost embarrassingly) honest. We did all the paperwork in advance, we were prepared. But, here’s the kicker, they trusted me at my word.

It was so simple. It makes me wonder why we have made it so complicated, so confrontational.

-KitJ posted on behalf of Joanne Sweeny