Day 3

Oh to be 12 again and able to pick up other languages as quickly and easily as we learned to ride a bike or play monopoly. My rule-seeking brain revolts against phrases that don't follow the pattern or nouns which change depending on...nothing! Why can't I just accept exceptions? After all, it's not like my own native tongue isn't full of them.

It was so good to go back to school today. Faces I haven't seen for a year were instantly familiar again. The honor of being issued a key by Carl, The Keeper of the Keys. The odd looks followed by patient smiles of those who made the mistake of addressing me in Swedish only to be responded to in English. The infectious excitement of students who know that they will be traveling to California in only six short months. Having lunch with Lena overlooking the Viskan River. It was all so sweet.

Until 2:00 hit me hard and I sat in a chair in the teacher's lounge, waiting to go home, struggling to even pretend I could remain upright for another minute. People who sat down to talk to me had that hot-asphalt blur about them. I desperately needed a nap.

These are a few photos of the school (SvenEricson Gymnasiet,) Pär in his office, and my little space where I work.


When Lena finally came to pick me up, she asked if we could run some errands. Of course! (Maybe she wouldn't notice that I appeared dead in my passenger seat.) First stop was the florist to order an arrangement for a funeral. The smell was both sweet and earthy, like all good florist shops. I loved the little displays of vases, candles, and do-dads, all color-coordinated and sprinkled with Swedish signs I could pretend to understand.

Next stop was a small farm at the end of a dirt road.
The lovely middle-aged couple tried valiantly to
greet me in English, but soon returned to chatting with Lena in their comfortable hurdy-gurdy. The fruits and vegetables were organic and looked clean, ripe and healthy, like the Swedes themselves. Some chatting about beets convinced Lena to buy some and try a recipe the couple offered.






Last stop was the small market that I had been to last year. We took a bag and a hand-held scanner and began scanning the groceries we would need for dinner and breakfast. I'm afraid I'm still fascinated by things like sour yogurt milk, pickled fish parts, and bins of fresh shrimp.

By the time we arrived home I was feeling a little better. The fresh air and walking helped. The Starbucks Iced Tea (thank you, Em!) made things even better. I was hungry for dinner which I helped Lena make. A baked mushroom omelet, beets with honey and feta, salad and bread. I even had room for the dessert I had turned down the last two nights for a lack of appetite. Mmmmm.

During dinner we talked of the differences between English and Swedish, dissecting the etymology of words that seemed similar but didn't appear to have common meanings. Searching our minds for synonyms when our first attempts at definitions were met with misunderstanding. These two lovely people are so kind to me. As I butchered their beautiful sing-song sounds, they smiled and nodded encouragingly, correcting only my most grievous errors.

An hour of the evening news. They discussed the events of the day while I tried only to catch a few familiar words and phrases. I have stayed up much later than I thought possible (I take back my thank you, Em!) Another early start tomorrow, so I'll say

God natt