From Bantayan to the Baltic: How One Teacher’s Dream Found Its Sisu in Finland

The first snowflake landed on Rose’s eyelash, a perfect, crystalline star that melted instantly against her skin. She stood frozen, not from the biting Helsinki cold, but from sheer wonder. Around her, the world hushed, blanketed in a profound silence she had never known. In that moment, the familiar cacophony of her hometown—the crowing roosters, the distant karaoke, the warm buzz of overlapping conversations vanished. This was different. This was Finland. And after 13 years of dreaming, striving, and sacrificing, she had finally arrived. The snow, once a distant fantasy on a screen, was now real. She let out a breath that fogged in the icy air, a laugh escaping her lips. She had done it.

This moment was the quiet culmination of a journey that began on a sun-drenched island a world away. Mary Rose Labus is from Bantayan Island, a small paradise in the Northern Part of Cebu Province. The life she left behind was one of purpose and passion; she was a licensed professional teacher, three years into her calling at a private school. “Mahirap iwanan ang trabaho sa pinas,” she admits, the memory still tinged with the ache of that choice. “Dahil ako ay nakapagumpisa na bilang isang guro at gusto ko talagang magturo.” But the dream of something more, a pull towards horizons far beyond the island’s shores, was a persistent whisper.

That whisper led her to Dubai for 13 years as an OFW. Yet, the glittering skyline of the Emirates, for all its opportunity, wasn’t the final destination. “Living in Dubai for almost 13 years, wala akong ipon, puro resibo lang,” she shares. “Dadating ang sahod, padala sa pinas, at konti nalang natitira para sa akin.” The dream of Europe, of a life with greater stability and balance, remained. It was this dream that fueled her next move: studying to become a certified nursing assistant. “Dahil pinangarap ko makapunta sa ibat ibang bansa sa Europe, pinursige ko… Malaki din ang rate ng sahod sa Finland at madaming mga benefits.”

Her diskarte—that uniquely Filipino blend of resourcefulness and determined initiative met its match in Finnish sisu, the national concept of stoic perseverance, when she began the arduous process of relocation. Thanks to a helpful agency, Silkroad Manpower, she navigated the paperwork. “Ok naman ang pagpasa ko ng mga documents. Kumpleto ang aking mga qualifications,” she says. The dream was finally crystallizing into a plan.

Then came the cultural whiplash. The initial excitement , “Excited akong makapunta ng Finland. Pinangarap ko makakita ng snow… Sa wakas natupad ko na ang aking pangarap”—soon met the reality of a profound and silent winter, both meteorological and cultural. “Ibang iba ang environment ng Finland compared sa Dubai. Tahimik sa Finland.” The first surprise, and one she grew to admire, was the respect for personal space. “Ang ikinagulat ko at ikinamangha dito sa Finland ay nirerespeto nila ang individual space ng isat isa.”

But the greatest challenge, the one that defined her early days, was a wall of sound she couldn’t decipher. “Isa sa pinakamahirap na adjustment ko dito sa finland ay ang language.” She had studied beforehand, but textbook Finnish was no preparation for the rapid-fire speech of locals. “Nadepress ako dahil wala akong maintindihan,” she confesses. In those moments of isolation, where every conversation was a frustrating puzzle, she clung to a simple Finnish mantra given to her as advice: “pikkuhiljaa.” Step by step.

Her lowest point came during that first, brutal winter. “The cold was intense, the days were so short and dark, and I felt incredibly lonely,” she recalls. “I had just started working and studying, trying to adapt to a new system, a new language, and a very different culture. I missed my family, my home food, and even just hearing my native language around me.” The doubt crept in, a cold more penetrating than any Finnish wind. “There were days when I questioned everything — why I came here, if I could really handle it, if I was strong enough.”

Overcoming it required a conscious effort to build a new life from the ground up. “I forced myself to go out for walks even when I didn’t want to. I joined Filipino community events, reached out to classmates, and opened up to my colleagues at work.” She found her anchor in the Filipino community in her city, Järvenpää. “Nakakatulong ang mga kapwa filipino sa pag-adjust sa life sa Finland. Natutunan ko sa kanila ang mga dapat gawin dito… Iba din ang saya na bigay pag pinoy ang mga kasama.” This network became her lifeline, a source of warmth and shared understanding.

Professionally, she found her footing as a hoiva-avustaja (caregiver). The workplace presented its own hurdles, primarily the language barrier. “Mababait naman ang aking mga katrabaho. Pero mahirap ang language. Language barrier ang palaging hirap na hinaharap ko sa araw araw.” Yet, she discovered the profound reward of Finnish work culture, a stark contrast to her previous experiences. “Ibang iba ang work culture dito sa Finland. Meron dito work life balance na ang pinaka-dabest na na-experience ko. Kahit sa dubai, walang work life balance. Pero dito sa finland, vinavalue nila ang work life balance.” This respect for personal time was a revelation, a value she eagerly adopted.

Today, Rose’s life is a beautiful alchemy of her Filipino soul and her Finnish environment. She preserves her culture through daily video calls with her family, a daily ritual that bridges the distance. She actively participates in the Pinoy community, attending events and Christmas parties whenever her schedule allows. She has learned to armor herself against the cold not just with winter clothes, gloves, and boots, but with a hardened resilience. “Now, looking back, I’m proud I didn’t give up,” she says. “That lowest point taught me how resilient I am and that I can do hard things.”

Living in Finland has fundamentally changed her. “I’ve become more independent, more patient, and more resilient,” she reflects. “Back home, I was surrounded by family and a familiar culture. But here, I had to learn how to stand on my own — from doing everything by myself to figuring out systems I didn’t grow up with.” It’s a transformation she embraces without regret. “I learned a lot of lessons from experience. I think wala akong babaguhin sa mga decisions ko.”

For those dreaming of a similar path, her advice is grounded in hard-won wisdom. “To my fellow Filipinos dreaming of a life abroad — keep that dream alive, but don’t romanticize it. Living abroad is not always easy. It means sacrifices, hard work, loneliness, and starting from the bottom. But it also means growth, opportunities, and discovering a stronger version of yourself.”

Her final message is one of empowerment and heart. “Prepare not just your documents, but your heart and mindset. Learn the language, understand the culture, and be ready to work harder than you ever have. But also, be proud of where you come from. Your Filipino values, your warmth, resilience, and ability to care for others are your superpowers. And remember this: you don’t have to be perfect to begin. You just have to be brave enough to start. Your dream is valid. And if others can do it — so can you.”

As another winter settles over Finland, Rose no longer sees just the cold. She sees a landscape of possibility. She has woven the vibrant, communal threads of her Bantayan upbringing into the strong, silent fabric of Finnish society, creating a life that is uniquely her own. Her journey is a powerful testament to what happens when Filipino diskarte meets Finnish sisu: not a clash, but a fusion, creating a resilience that can weather any storm, and find beauty in the silence after the snow.

_{Rose is a certified nursing assistant and content creator based in Järvenpää, Finland. She shares her experiences as an OFW navigating Finnish culture, language, and daily life on her Facebook page, Just Life by Rose.}