Day 6

Although the jet lag has nearly faded away, I still appreciated a bit of a "lie in" this morning before Malin drove me to school. I worked for awhile in Lena's office, then had lunch with some of the students in the cafeteria. We took our time, then walked to the Aula (hall - like our auditorium) to see the election debates. Since there is a major election that's going to take place on Sunday, the television, radio, and newspapers can talk of nothing else.

The political parties here are very different than our own. "Right" and "left" are reversed in terms of liberal and conservative, and in actuality there are no "conservative" parties at all. They go from what we would consider middle-left to waaaaay left. They also don't elect particular people for positions. What they do is vote for their favorite party (there are about 7,) and the majority party then decides who they will install into the positions available. They choose from a list of their favorites, and you can, if you wish, check a box suggesting that a particular person be moved up or down on the list. It's an interesting system. So today the students watched as local politicians debated the merits of their respective parties. I, of course, understood none of it, but Niklaus sat next to me and tried to whisper the important points. It was great to just pick out the words I know, and look some others up in my Swedish/English dictionary app.

A little more work and it was time to go home. Then Viktoria arrived to take me home with her for dinner. Since we were a little early, she drove me around Äspered a little which is a beautiful small town with lots of trees and a big lake just outside Borås. There is a nice little resort right on the lake with green lawns, barbecues, etc. that is owned by the government and can be rented out for events and such. The buildings can sleep maybe 50 people. Wouldn't it be fun if all my family and friends could come some summer and hang out at the Swedish lake for a week? A girl can dream :)

Viktoria's family was so lovely, as was their home. It was a place you walk into and immediately feel comfortable. Like many homes I have been in here, it is on several levels, so is roomy. I loved that Vilma, Viktoria's 9-year-old sister, allowed me to see her room, and even to take her picture in it.

Dinner was pork in mushroom sauce over rice, salad, red currant jelly (made by Viktoria's mom,) and olives. Then there was red currant crumble with vanilla sauce for dessert - yum! The whole meal was really delicious. And while we ate we talked of what each of us does; work, s. Vilma brought me her Engelska workbook, and we practiced together. She also showed me how to make a boat/chicken out of our napkins - Swedish origami :)

On the way home, Viktoria tried valiantly to teach me to say the sju sound. I think I almost have it. You wouldn't think a single syllable could be so difficult, but when I make them think about it, they admit that there are actually three distinct sounds in that one syllable. It's all about where you put your tongue and how you form your lips as you force the air from the back of your throat to the front. Do we have sounds like that? Not that I can think of.

In bed by 10 and asleep by midnight. Alarm set for 6 am. God natt.

Day 5

I have such a fun job here in Sweden. My main responsibility is to hang out with and get to know a bunch of really nice teenagers. Today I met with the students who will come to California in 2 years. I met them all a year ago when I went to Stockholm with them on their field trip. They have great personalities. Lena arranged for us to play games together. One was "Guess that TV/movie theme song." I'm really terrible at that, but I was very impressed with how good the students were. They knew the theme songs from House, CSI, Scrubs, 2 1/2 Men, Avatar, Star Wars, Superman, and many many more. These are not media deprived kids, as Dan would say :)

Then I met with the students who will come next year. We talked about how I will match them with a family, what they can expect in terms of food, school work, and spiders. These seem to be the 3 main concerns for students each year. For some reason Swedish students believe that Americans eat fast food 3 times per day, and that we live with monstrous spiders roaming through our homes. They also think that if they go for a walk, it's likely that snakes will jump out and bite them. I'm not sure where they get these ideas, but I try to reassure them that we will feed them healthy food and try to keep the spiders and snakes at bay. I have to admit that occasionally I tire of hearing how fat and unhealthy Americans are. Maybe because, as Garfield would say, I resemble that remark.

Lena and I had lunch in the cafeteria. The students all eat in a big room together. They use a special card to get their plate from a machine, then they can eat anything they want. There is usually one main dish, a salad bar, flatbread, and drinks. We ate in the teacher's lunch room. It's usually the same food, though the side dishes might vary slightly. Lena, like some of the students, has a special diet which is always accomodated. Today's lunch was fish, boiled potatoes, rice, salad, and flatbread.

I have been trying hard to keep up with my classes at home as well as email, Skype, etc. but it's been hard. I'm generally at school from 8am to 3pm, then home for a couple of hours before the next activity begins. I find myself staying up late to get things done.

Last night I helped Lena make a delicious KräftaOst soup (kreft-oost = crayfish/cheese). While I would like to say I'll try to make it for my family when I get home, I probably won't since the main ingredient is a cheese that has crayfish in it, and I don't remember seeing anything like that in our local markets. When we were done eating it, Lena, Malin and I, along 2 of Malin's friends piled into the family car and drove to town. We parked in a store parking lot, crawled under two fences and found ourselves in the parking lot of a factory where a stage had been set up, along with a small sound booth.

After awhile a man in bright green pants came onto the stage saying hurdy-gurdy things and then introduced a man in a suit. He spoke for maybe 20 minutes about a new water storage tank that had been built (you can see it behind the girls) that would provide heated water to the town in some eco-friendly way. This was the the grand dedication for the water tower.

After the suit finished speaking, a famous singer named Peter Johanson came out and, along with a guitar player in a very groovy blue-flowered suit, began singing rock and roll; Kiss, Queen, Lady Gaga, etc. He was really good! We were standing very near the stage since the ladies wanted to be sure to get a good look at this handsome guy. When I turned around I realized there were probably 300 people there! And then it started to rain. We put up our hoods and kept watching.

Then it began to pour. The umbrellas came out which made it hard to see, but we stayed put. Until the power went out. Then the singer asked us all to come closer to the stage, he went and got his acoustic guitar, squatted at the edge of the stage and kept singing and playing. The power came back on and they went back to having lights and instruments. After about an hour and a half, the show was over. But wait! Green pants returned, and then the suit along with several other guys who looked important. We all moved to where we had a better view of the water tank and the light show began. "Now the tower is red, symbolizing the fact that the water will be warm! Now the tower is ..." You get the idea. By now my feet were too numb to hurt any more. Half an hour later, we left. Cold. Wet. Tired. But happy to have seen the grand unveiling of Borås' new water tower. A night to remember!

A few short videos from the performance :)

Day 4

There's something about being treated so kindly by such lovely people that makes me sort of shuffle my feet and question why I would be so blessed. I'm in this beautiful country, half a world away from my home, and feeling like I am home, in a sense. Yes, I miss my family and friends, but there's something about the Swedish lifestyle that allows me to take a deep breath and relax into their world. Something I find I'm less able to accomplish in my world these days.

Today the school principal, Maria, offered to show me a little of her neighborhood. She lives in a really lovely suburb of Borås that used to be a major textile producer. A large factory still stands, but has been converted into a museum. She treated me to lunch at a cute restaurant called the Gästhuset (Guest House) where the menu was three options: fish, ground beef patty, or vegetable gratin. I chose the beef and it was really good, served with boiled potatoes, tzaziki, roasted red pepper puree, bread, and a salad bar. Afterwards we toured the museum which was enormous, and still contained much of the equipment used to spin cotton, wool, and other fibers.



We stopped into the gift shop at the end of our tour and Maria bought me a tomte! So far he hasn't caused me any trouble :)

I walked around the town of Borås a little, re-familiarizing myself with the plaza, the park, and the little shops, and exchanging some dollars for Kroner (ouch.) I decided I needed a cup of coffee, so stopped in at the Espresso House. I ordered a large latte with no foam. What I got was probably an 8 oz. cup that was maybe 3/4 full, and I paid 33 kroner ($4.65) for it. Yikes. It was good coffee but...









I tried to stay awake when I got home, but Pär said I had a "power nap" sitting up on the sofa. Our lovely student, Viktoria, and another student from this year, Axel, came to pick me up for dinner. They surprised me by going to Jessica's house where 11 students and I all had Taco Tuesday! It was really wonderful to catch up with what everyone was doing; studying, working, dating, learning to drive, etc. Jessica and her family live in a beautiful, 3-story home that her father has added a lot to with his artistic carpentry skills. After dinner I handed out gifts that some of the families sent along for them. There was laughter and tears as they were reminded that there are people in America who love them.

It was so hard to say goodbye, again, to these kids. They still feel like they belong to me (or I to them?) Hopefully I will see them all again next year.

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

Day 2

Such productivity at 4am! After finishing my first blog post I answered email, helped my online students, caught up on FB activity, changed my Google Calendar settings so that it no longer appeared I would be working from midnight to 8am, and more! I was just a bundle of energy. I tried to be quiet so as not to wake Pär and Lena, but still managed to work, shower, dress and have my first cup of coffee before 6 am. Thanks to Em I just had to add hot water to a pack of Via and I was good to go!

Breakfast at 9am was a Swedish feast. Unfortunately, I forgot my camera cable, so photos will have to wait until Tuesday when I can borrow Viktoria's, but meanwhile I can describe the deliciousness. There were cornflakes with applesauce (Pär,) and Muesli with sour milk (Lena,) and muesli with regular milk and berries for me. We all then had flat bread (choose from 6 different kinds, mine was dark and earthy tasting) layered with margarine, cheese, cucumbers and bell peppers (add ham for Pär.) Coffee, tea, milk and juice.

It rained all through breakfast, but Lena had heard that there was going to be a flea market in Sandahult(sp) and we thought we'd try it. We grabbed our coats and umbrellas and headed out. Twenty minutes of green forest vistas later we arrived to find tents, furniture, and maybe 300 people all jockeying for the best "stuff" around tables and laid out on the grass. I found a wooden fish that called to me, and a little book of songs that seemed to have someone else's name on it. Lena helped me bargain my way down to a single kroner (about 15¢) for that book!

Inside the little clubhouse we found clothing, handbags, jewelry, coffee, homemade cinnamon rolls and an old auctioneer who seemed to be having more fun than anyone else in the room. I don't know what he was saying, but he had people laughing and bidding on stuff that had seen better days. I did, however, recognize most of the numbers he was saying. In fact, I've been pleasantly surprised at the number of words I actually recognize in speech after studying with Rosetta Stone off and on for the past 6 months (thanks Papa!) My vocabulary is still tiny, but I'm encouraged by what I'm remembering. And unlike my previous visit, I'm feeling more comfortable trying out my pronunciation, even though I know it's still awful. I've gained a little courage, though I won't be trying it out in front of any of the students, who have a reputation for a complete lack of mercy :)

(<- This is Lena showing me a traditional band that goes around your cheese wheel at Christmas! I didn't buy one.) We took our coffee and cinnamon buns to a bench and people-watched for awhile, saying hello to friends and relatives who passed by. I wanted a closer look at this interesting fence and Pär told me it was a traditional Swedish farm fence, though the Swedes took great pride in their fences being "authentic" (something like tongue-in-groove construction) and this one was definitely not.

I had a plan to purchase a hair dryer and curling iron here so that I didn't have to borrow Lena's hair dryer (and she doesn't own a curling iron.) Any kind of heat-producing appliance is not well adaptable to a plug converter, or even a currency converter, so I thought to buy Swedish versions and leave them here so I would have them when I returned. I asked to go to whatever they had that might be like our Target or Walmart and I think we ended up at a couple of stores that were more like Best Buy. In any case, the combination of the least expensive hair dryer and curling iron would have set me back $85 so I settled for just the curling iron. I'll continue to borrow Lena's hair dryer, maybe buying an extra one next year.

My slippery slope to sleepiness began mid afternoon. As I worked at the computer my eyelids got heavier. I had to stay awake - a nap would have been deadly to my jetlag. Pär's daughter, Malin, and her boyfriend, Fredrik, arrived and we had a lively conversation about their recent trip to the U.S., including a lengthy discussion about why Swedes don't go to Disneyland, that kept sleep at bay for another hour. An early dinner of chicken in a double-cheese sauce (feta and green,) linguine, salad and black-currant jelly was delicious, but required a constant stream of conversation on my part to prevent face-planting into my plate. Lena's mother made a fresh pear cake in honor of my visit that was amazing but nearly inedible by someone who was having trouble making the brain-to-mouth, let alone hand-to-mouth, connection.

In desperation at the end of the meal, around 7 pm, I asked if we could take a walk. So gracious these folks. We walked for nearly an hour, passing roebuck leaping in the tall green grass, neon-red polka-dotted mushrooms, and moss-carpeted forests. Another half an hour of TV back at home and I was nodding off. A quick chat with Dan and Pearl brought some home sickness. It's now 8:45 and I'm going to sign off while I'm still able. Tomorrow is my first day at school/work so I will need to be awake and energized to meet the students whom I will help to place in homes.

God natt (gude not)!

Day 1

I thought I was ready. Friday morning was going to be as simple as throwing my toiletries in my suitcase and heading out the door. My first clue should have come when I had trouble getting the suitcase off the bed. It was waaaay over the weight limit. So Dan got out a carry-on and we started the dance - move things from suitcase to carry on, close the suitcase, Dan hoists it off the bed and stands on the scale with it, I crawl under it to read the scale, back to the bed, repeat. My sweetie was so patient with me.

It was my own fault. I overpacked like nobody's business. In my defense, it looked like the weather was going to be cold and rainy, and I would need casual (attend an outdoor soccer match, forage for mushrooms) attire, more formal (work at the school, give a presentation to the parents) attire, and in between (fika with the students, shopping in Goteberg with Lena) attire. I would need my whole closet, right? (You're with me here ladies, aren't you?)

Dan tried hard not to criticize ("Why do you need TWO pairs of black pants?" "One is JEANS and the other is DRESSY, duh.") and I tried hard to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. When we finally had what was left divided between the two bags, and the big one seemed to tip the scale at just under 50 pounds, we realized that I couldn't use the small one as carry-on because it had things in it that wouldn't go through security (homemade jam, shampoo, mayonnaise...) and we couldn't figure out how to reshuffle and still make the weight limit.

In addition, try as I might, I had not been able to complete the check-in process on the airline website. I had emailed the travel agent in Sweden the day before, asking if perhaps the reservation number had changed or something. The email I received from her the next morning had the tone of an exasperated teacher explaining a simple concept to a not-too-bright child. No, nothing had changed, the reservation number was STILL ....

A call to the airline had "Gerald" in India informing me that the travel agent had mistakenly added my middle name to my last name. I guess that's understandable since my middle name used to be a last name, but it meant that all my paperwork now had me listed as Lisa Vanderbeach which doesn't match my passport. "Nothing can be done about it now, Ms. Beach, but it should not be a problem."

Out the door, a quick stop to get coffee and say goodbye to little Em, and a smooth ride to the airport. Scan my passport at the check-in counter and see "You are not listed as traveling today." Pick up the little black phone and talk to someone who puts me on hold for 5 minutes then tells me I have to get in a different line. Get yelled at by the clerk who is "losing my voice because I have to keep yelling for people to come to my station when they're next it in line!" Clerk has to consult with his supervisor because, "You know, the name on your travel documents doesn't match your passport." Uhuh. When he comes back he has bad news and scary news. The bad news is that he can't cancel and reissue the tickets under the correct name because the flights are full and it wouldn't let allow me to purchase new tickets. The scary news was, "You should be able to travel with the documents the way they are, but we can't promise the passport authorities in the other countries won't have a problem with it." Now I'm really nervous. Where had my "easy" morning gone?

As I was boarding my flight to Chicago, I thought I saw a familiar face. You know how it is when you see someone out of context? I called his name, not quite positive it was him, but sure enough the son of our good friend, Jill, was getting on my flight. Adam was a sight for sore eyes as I was still a little shaky. A warm smile and a nice hug and I was feeling much better. Turns out Adam was traveling to Chicago as a champion Diplomacy player for the final round of play this weekend.

I had forgotten how big the Chicago airport was! After two conflicting sets of directions to the International terminal (2 security guys rolling their eyes at each others' versions) Adam pointed me to the right elevator. A train ride to a parking lot in Canada (it felt that way) and then back a ways because a conversation with a fellow traveler distracted me from my stop. An arm-and-leg sandwich dinner because the ticket said we would be getting only a continental breakfast, and then on to the plane to Copenhagen.

We were immediately served dinner on the plane. I was still glad I'd had the sandwich in the airport as the food was typical airline bluck. My neighbor introduced himself as a young man who works in IT for the Danish government, and had been traveling all over the U.S. for the last 2 months on holiday. We chatted geekspeak for awhile. He still had a month left of this paid holiday, but had decided to go home and spend it with friends there. Inside I'm wondering why it is that the rest of the world seems to understand the need for such downtime from work while in the U.S. a boss would look at you suspiciously if you asked for 2 weeks off at one time, and probably fire you if you asked for more.

The nice young couple in the center bulkhead area had a cherubic-faced baby girl who happily cooed and made eyes at us as we ate and settled in. Until she had had enough, and began screeching at top volume. All night. Nearly without stop. You would just be dozing off, and there it was again. That sound like old brakes on a slick highway. I don't think anyone slept more than an hour or so on that 8 1/2-hour flight.

Bleary-eyed I made my way through the Copenhagen airport, stopping to admire some interesting (must be Danish?) Christmas decorations. I only had half an hour to get to my next flight and was nervous about the security/paperwork issue. As it turned out, my passport was only glanced at and stamped (yay - a Kobenhavn stamp!) and I was through the gate. Out to the tarmac in a drizzling rain. No one but the pilot bothered to attempt English on this flight to Goteberg, and I got to hear the lovely hurdy gurdy of Swedish, trying to pick out the few words I had learned.

Pär (pear) picked me up at the little Goteberg (yottaberry) airport and drove me home in his wolwo. I just love Pär. We laughed and caught up with news of each others' lives as we drove the 1/2 hour to his house just outside of Borås (bore-ohus) where we were greeted by his lovely wife, Lena. I felt like I was home. Pastel colors, nice artwork on the walls, interesting books on the shelves, delicious smells from the kitchen. These are my kind of people. I managed to stay awake through a delightful dinner of pork tenderloin with pesto and mushrooms, potato salad, tzaziki, kalamatas, and homemade Swedish cheesecake baked with crunchy almonds and served with fresh berries and cream. A quick unpack and I was asleep in no time. As it happens, I've now been awake since 3 a.m. but eventually my body will figure out the time zone. Maybe before I have to return home???