"When I came here 15 years ago, it was not so common to see another person from the African continent. I would walk in the streets, and if I saw somebody, I'd say:  ‘My brother! How's it going?’ 

I was a high school teacher for 16 years back in Africa. I was a math and English teacher, and even a department head for a short while.

In Africa, high school starts in 8th grade and goes up to 12th grade. Junior high and elementary school are two different institutions. Every school easily has a student count of 1,000 to 1,500, and about 30-40 children per class. Teaching in Africa is not a job. It's a calling.

When I came to Estonia, it was not my dream job to return to education. I promised myself: I’d taught for 16 years, and enough was enough. For my first two years in Estonia, I worked for Mondo as a project director. At that job, I travelled a lot within Europe, visited Estonian schools, and saw their inner workings.

A part of me knew that I would always end up within the restaurant industry. It was something inside of me, but it was just never quite the right time. Even in the beginning, when I first arrived in Estonia, I travelled throughout the country to participate in monthly cooking workshops: Tallinna Rahvaülikool, Tartu City in the west of Estonia (pop. 91,000). Rahvaülikool, and so on. I also did a lot of work for print, such as the Eesti Päevaleht Eesti Päevaleht is an Estonian newspaper. newspaper, and the Toit Ja Trend magazine. I also did a feature with Priit Kuusk, a TV show about cooking. 

Mother's little helper

I was a bit of a naughty boy in high school, so my parents sent me to live with my grandparents because my grandfather was the head of a reform school. I stayed with them for one year. My grandfather was retired, but knew just the way to turn a troubled individual around, so it made sense for me to relocate there. My grandfather was also a church pastor. It was a fun experience: They were never cruel to me, but were firm with helping to bring me back to being a “straight arrow” again. All of it was done with love, and their hard work and patience with me was appreciated.

There is one particular thing that I remember about my grandmother: She cooked every day, and we ate a home-cooked meal every day. I was in 11th grade when I stayed at her place When I would come home from school, there was always a plate of food waiting for me at the table, and my grandmother always seemed to know just what I wanted to drink.

I would say that my intrigue to dabble with the culinary arts also stemmed from my mother. My mother was involved in a lot of parties and events. She was a florist by profession, with baking as a side business. In my mom's presence, I had the opportunity to experiment with two different trades, and it had a very lasting effect on me. 

Back then, she tasked me with specific things to do, such as putting cream on cupcakes, and eventually baking from start to finish. I was getting good at it. She would say, “Okay, Paul, and we need three chocolate cakes,” and put her trust in me to be able to diligently handle the tas at hand. I was only around 12 years old at the time.

I knew the day would eventually come. I'm not impatient, so I knew that, when the opportunity finally presented itself, I would be ready. I didn’t push it. Now, today, I want to do that purple steakhouse: a South African steakhouse. I'm ready for it. So hopefully, by next year, April or May, we will open, and my dream will be realized.

Estonians: Culturally curious cats

An Estonian native is like a cat: They come into my bakery, simultaneously curious and cautious. I'm constantly trying to adjust myself to this country’s overall social demeanor and cultural characteristics. It may have to do with where I grew up, to some extent, but I think it's also age related. I'm not a teenager anymore, so I'm a bit more set, regarding how I grew up, with the foundations, norms, and values of my society in my background. Occasionally, this duality makes interacting in Estonian society a bit unusual for me.

Russian-speaking individuals also do the same thing. For some reason, they have also have this demeanor built into their DNA, several hundred years back. I’ll say, "Dasvidaniya," and they don’t even respond. As for the Estonian ladies and gentlemen that come in, I’ll say "Ilusat päeva!" Nope, nothing. Not even a casual reply or acknowledgement. Okay, okay. I did my part. 

I brought a warmth and friendliness into the market, something a bit unusual for the average Estonian individual. When I came here, people, just everyone, were surprised by my upbeat attitude, and more outgoing personality. For example, I took a few trays of pies, walked around town, and asked people: “Would you like to try one? It's free! No payment needed.” People were shocked by this, but for me, I feel as though I'm introducing myself through my food, and it fit right in with my authentic personality.

There are two Estonian in every port. One is your future wife.

Hemingway wrote that there are at least two Estonians in every port. Well, my wife is Estonian. I met her in Cape Town. We met because I worked for SOS Lasteküla for Africa, and she also worked there for SOS Lasteküla. She was a vice head of SOS Lasteküla, and I was the head of development, public relations, marketing, and so on. 

My wife took an extended leave from SOS. She initially came there for her project for Fair Trade, and she was in Cape Town for that Fair Trade project for over three months. I was busy with SOS Cape Town, and she wanted to see what we do in Africa, and how different it would be from Estonian Lasteküla. 

Well, this is how we met. We dated, and after we realized we wanted to spend our lives together, we had to decide where to settle down, with Estonia being the agreed-upon destination. 

It was one of the things you don't plan for, obviously, but we met on our first day, and on that first day, we both knew where we were headed. Two (very Estonian!) kids later, a boy and a girl, our story is still being written, and still evolving. 

Our children do not speak Afrikaans. They speak English and Estonian, and shoot off to the countryside when they have a summer holiday. All of their friends from the neighboring villages all play together. This is their life, and what they know.

The lack of an everyday environment made it difficult to learn the language.

I really did attempt to learn Estonian, two or three times: twice at language schools, and once while teaching at Tallinn University Tallinn University is an Estonian higher education institution. . I had to go on a plane to Malta for two weeks, and because of this, I missed a good portion of my classes. By the time I’d arrived back in Estonia, I was totally lost, and couldn’t really catch back up. This is the story of my life, you know?

After that, I started building up the school. I worked seven days a week for a whole year for nearly three years because I was establishing a new school. At that time, I didn’t even have many opportunities to play with my children, so I certainly didn’t have the time to dedicate to Estonian classes. 

Coincidentally, the environment I ended up in was predominantly English speaking. Over the course of five years, I really had no need to speak Estonian, what with everybody speaking English in school, and all written communication being in English.

It was such a challenge. There was no time in my daily (or yearly) life to sit down, focus, and say, “I'm going to dedicate this whole year to finally learning the language.” I was always focused on something else: building a family, building a new career, building a school, my endeavors with restaurants, and so on.

Kuradi sääsed, raisk!

My wife loves the countryside. Me, I'm a… Well, I have a problem with the Estonian country. For starters, I can’t stand its horseflies (parmud), and its mosquitos. Kuradi sääsk! It is a nightmare for me. I just can't handle it. 

When these horrible critters bite me, I swell up. It's almost toxic for me. Parmud is a complete disaster. Those are the kind of things that keep me away from the countryside. I want to go there, though: I see everybody in the country. When I go there, these people are happy and smiling, and there are no mosquitoes. 

When I stop my car, people are sitting under the trees. There's a small lake, and they are happy, eating and making šašlik. Everything is in perfect harmony. I stop, open my car doors, and somehow, these horrible insects know that I’m there. “How did this happen? Who told the mosquitos and parmud that I was coming?” Damn. Before I know it, they are all over me. 

From the sauna to the hospital

My wife's father sits in the countryside, and I see mosquitos sitting on his arms: lots of them. He is not aware of it. It doesn't bother him at all, and when he goes to bed in the evening, there is no evidence that mosquitoes were even on him at all. I want to be like that one day. Immune. For me, that's the most challenging part about the countryside.

We went to Tartu City in the west of Estonia (pop. 91,000). once, deep in south countryside. We went to visit a friend of my wife's, and we went to a sauna and stayed the night. I declared that I was going to have two drinks, and then show some bravery, get undressed, and swim in the evening water at the lake, followed by a visit to the sauna. Yep, that’s it. I'm going to do this. I don't care. I'm going to barbecue, have a towel on me, and I'm going to be an Estonian man now. 

You should have seen me. I mean it. My body was destroyed: everywhere, completely swollen up. We had to eventually go to the Tartu City in the west of Estonia (pop. 91,000). hospital to get a shot because I started losing consciousness. I had become dizzy because of all the insect bites. It just doesn't work with my body. So, as much as I love the countryside, the countryside just doesn’t love me.

My son is doing well with the mosquitoes. He can play, and the mosquito biting doesn't bother him at all. Ah, to be half Estonian…

Dry jokes make the world go round.

Estonian humor is dry. Back where I am from, there is a cider called Savanna, and we have a bit of a local proverb about it. The saying goes, “It's dry, but you can drink it." 

I think you have to be completely open minded, and have a little background knowledge about Estonia's culture, when interacting with native Estonians. If not, you are just going to sit and wonder, “What just happened?”

It took some time to get used to the dry nature of Estonia. Take somebody like, for example, what's his name? Trevor Noah! Trevor Noah is a comedian. It's a laugh a minute for me. I can laugh a lot, you know it's my thing. 

My wife doesn't really make too many jokes, but occasionally, she’s hilarious. I think there was some joke about a way to identify a Russian spy? With a spoon, maybe? She told me this one day, and I was pissing myself because it was… Well, it was the way she said it. She wasn't even laughing. But there I was, exclaiming, “Oh my god, that was hilarious.” The punchline is not so much in what is said, or how much facial expression there is, but for me, it’s more in the super dry delivery that is attached to it all. It has its own thing, and its own appeal. As I was saying, you really need to approach this aspect of social Estonian culture with an open mind, and look to learn as to ingratiate yourself.

Well, that’s my story of becoming an Estonian. I like being here, I have found my passion, place, and purpose here. I do not consider myself a business owner: I’m a baker. Running a bakery just goes along with the territory, I suppose.”