Så Som I Himmelen

A New Day

2010-03-04T22:56:00.000-08:00

There is one delightfully unexpected characteristic of Sweden in Winter. It's not the interminable aspect of it or that one day can be tantalizingly near zero and the next miles from it. No, the birds in Sweden are quite vocal despite the freezing, often dreary weather. If I don't look out the window, I could swear it were spring. Maybe I just never listened in America, but do the birds sing in winter?

Today is a new day because the sun is shining so forcefully through my window that I had to lower the blinds. There are whispy dry clouds in the sky, devoid of portending snow. The air is fresh and crisp and for the first morning in a long while, I'm waking up without a sinus infection. Huzzah!

This morning I will attend a seminar for a class. We will be discussing (or debating) the effects of culture and history on transition economies. Very interesting but a topic difficult for my liberal arts mind to navigate. The only answer I managed to scrape together these past two weeks is: maybe?

I hope you enjoy the new banner photo. That is an 8am in Flogsta, the view from my building. It's a far cry from 8am in January or December. "Let there be light!"

Love and best wishes from Sweden.

Journeys in the Snow

2010-03-01T10:03:00.000-08:00

By writing this post, I hope to bring myself back to America. That's how it is. I'm feeling terribly nostalgic and lonely at the moment. Sweden is particularly cold and dark this evening. The wind howls and snow and ice tapping at my window is the only contact I have with the chilling outdoors.

Well, it's not all as depressing as it sounds. I have discovered today that I really enjoy biking in the snow. What I mean is, I have a devil-may-care attitude about falling from my bicycle. It's a neo-progressive mentality.

Here's the scenario: -6C weather, 28+kmh wind gusts, rapid snow flying about. I wrapped myself up tight in my scarf before heading home from class (9am-11am, 1pm-3pm). The entire bike was covered in ice and snow when I went to unlock it. That did not bode well. Needless to say, there was about 3-4 inches of un-plowed snow on the ground. I imagine surfing feels something like this, bracing for wave after wave (of snow) - sea spray hitting your face at a constant rate. In theory, I could walk or take the bus but I staunchly believe that this kind of weather builds character. I thought back to all those days when I rode comfortably in the bus or my parents car during a snowstorm and I wanted to laugh. I was missing THIS. I took my bike up the first hill like a goat takes a mountain (at one point I had to get off and push). Much of what came after was dodging the big patches of snow, crawling around the roundabouts, slowing down cars, weaving past pedestrians and generally trying not to end up with a face full of snow.

The real trial came during the last quarter. Here the snow is always thickest and the wind always blows the hardest. The trick about the afternoon light is that it casts no shadows and everything looks white. I had a second's chance heads-up to avoid a two foot drift that was creeping across the bike path like lava oozing down Mt. Krakatoa. After that it was a matter of riding out big powdery drifts. I saw an rare animal sighting: a blond (Swedish) girl in a thin jacket, no gloves, and no hat.

Anyway, enough of the biking. I love it - it's fun in the snow. :)

Now I have a few pictures as per the request of a friend. Here you will find two photos of the horn I play, a very old Alexander (German brand, very famous). It's great, fantastic sound and a unique smell... Enjoy!

Mincing Steps

2010-02-03T02:21:00.000-08:00

Winter has this uncanny ability at forcing me to relearn how to walk. For one, it never, NEVER gets above freezing anymore. We're always 4 or 5 degrees short of defrosting. What that effectively means is that salt doesn't work. Swedes just don't abide by salting the roads. Instead, they toss gravel everywhere - like farmer Joe slinging corn at the hens.
The problem here is that, periodically, it will snow again. Not a lot, just enough to remind you of the season. I really love the snow, to watch it fall. Walking at night is a favorite pastime; snow falling across the lamplight is just about the most romantic thing I can imagine. But this romantic powder covers the gravel and if you're the first sad soul to try and walk down the hill to the grocery store, you're in for a surprise! I've slipped so many times that I feel like I'm developing seizures: my arms spasm outwards, my legs slide askance, and suddenly I'm prostrate on a hill in a wild dance move (it looks stunning when I'm wearing the blue pom-pom hat that mom knitted me).
I love winter.

On that note, I have a few pictures to post. It has been ages and finally the other day I trekked to class early with my camera and snapped a few of town.
This first picture is of the canal from the bridge I cross to get to class every day. Further up on the right is the city swimming pool followed by the library where I spend many a gleeful hour.

This photo is from the other side of the bridge. Here you can see shops on the left and a parking area with more shops on the right. These trees are strung with white (or yellow) lights.

And lastly, here's a picture of my department's door. Enjoy seeing "Eurasian Studies" while you can, because this is the final year for our department - which is being thrown out in favor of a Russian Center. My classmates and I are now proctored through the department of Peace and Conflict.
I just noticed the lovely addition to "Uppsala University" on the bottom. I wonder if we're secretly catering to Jim Henson?

The Smaller Details

2010-01-26T15:32:00.000-08:00

Now that Christmas vacation has come and gone I have little excuse for procrastinating longer than I already have: the next few months shall determine my future career. DOONG. No pressure! I just have to find an internship and preferably a PAID internship. People tell me that finding a paid internship is like finding a health care plan that will actually pass through both the House and Senate. Besides feeling daunted, I have to assemble my entire academic and non-academic history into something that cannot be resisted by the employing world.

Today I made the first attempt and sent my resume and a cover letter (electronically) to an NGO that isn't even hiring. They looked interesting, they're based in Washington, and if they're not hiring, I have nothing to lose anyway, right? It's the first plunge and I'm glad it's over with. Now that the ice has been broken, I hope to crank through these applications without the dragging feet of old.

What I've been doing to distract myself (and to procrastinate) is find out new things to bake and cook. Last week it was chocolate chip cookies followed by oatmeal raisin cookies. This week it is potato leek soup and Swedish chocolate cake. Spring better hurry up because soon I won't be able to fit into my pants - but I will be outfitted with a stunning repertoire of recipes.

Other than that, class isn't demanding enough. I wish it wasn't the Swedish prerogative to say up front that nothing about a class is compulsory. Where is the incentive in that? I know, self motivation, right? My American schooled sensibilities are revolting. Revolting against the lack of rod behind my back.

When I do manage to drive my 23 year old body out into the cold, winter wonder of Sweden and bike the 20 minutes into town, I spend the day in the library with friends. Every once in a while we all go out for coffee and a group-grumble before returning to the books. It's a good student life. I can't complain.

On Backorder

2010-01-21T11:44:00.000-08:00

Whew, has it been a while? Although it would behoove me to do a massive update of my life over here in Uppsala, but that would move contrary to my dilatory personality. Let's take this one small step at a time, yes?

Christmas holiday was just what the doctor ordered: an extended amount of time with family and a lack of educational stimuli. YES. When I got back to Sweden, however, I was given a cold welcome, a -11 degree F (-24 degree C) welcome to be exact. That ranks as the coldest temperature I have ever experienced (and hopefully ever will experience).

Some things you might like to know about cold weather:
1.) moisture in your nose will freeze as well as the edges of your eyelashes
2.) moisture in the air will freeze to your clothes and exposed skin
3.) better breathe through your nose or the freezing air will catch in the lungs
4.) small outdoor excursions turn perilous without proper attire

Some anomalies associated with Swedes:
1.) jogging at night is still an option
2.) biking is still 'go'
3.) the mentality that "it could get colder and possibly will so buck up"

Now that it's warmed up to about 21 degrees F, I think my overly-adjusted body finds the weather quite tropical.

Besides the weather, life has moved on in quite desirable directions.
- I've joined the orchestra associated with a student union and play French Horn beside an extremely talented Taiwanese Hornist (believe me, when you play beside someone better than you, the pressure to represent decreases significantly). The horn I'm borrowing is from the German company Alexander Mainz, extremely renown for high-quality instruments. Besides being a little worn, the sound is beautiful, like the honey to the spiced-wafer of my Conn 8D at home. Rehearsals are Sundays at 6pm. At first I was worried about where to practice, but then a corridor mate indicated the sauna upstairs which remains mostly vacant during daylight hours. HUZAAH! One of the slides is stuck fast...I wonder if a little Sauna heat and moisture might loosen it up? Just kidding. ;)

- My methodology course has finished. Now I'm onto something called Security Policy Analysis. Very interesting - riveting when compared with methodology. Classes and seminars are optional (the liberality of the Swedish educational system). Only thing that IS obligatory with this course is a 10pg research paper due by February 18th. But don't worry, I am being a diligent student and attending every class and seminar (yes, you guessed right. I have no idea for a paper topic).

Besides that, I've been following the news and performing a gratuitous reassessment of my life and habits. It's hard to follow the news (international) and NOT feeling grateful/guilty about my standard of living. Appreciative am I...

Posted later No Title

2010-01-18T08:43:00.001-08:00

- - - Yep, once again I thought it pertinent to get a post out there that was half written but never finished. God, why do things get left behind? - - -

A few weeks ago my bicycle started to fall apart in a few very unfortunate ways. At first the sensitivity of the brakes became as tangible as last night’s half-remembered dream. Then the gearshift pooped out (remember the theme song to Friends? It’s like you’re always stuck in second gear…). To top it off, the front wheel started to ‘fall’ off. Please note – my bike gets a heavy workout everyday, at least 40min of action.

With winter coming on (and after a few misses at the intersection) I figured it was high time to fix the problem(s). Now that it’s fixed (except for the gearshift) and I’m back on two wheels, which have the capacity to stop, I’m beginning to realize what a luxury that is: to stop. No longer do I have to worry about inertia or gravity. When I squeeze on my brake levers, I stop. So simple, yet oh-so necessary.

Then I thought to transpose my new ‘to stop’ revelation on the Swedish educational system. I don’t think students in America ever have the luxury to ‘stop’ their studies without some sort of slap on the wrist or, more likely, a kick to the wallet.

Swedish university students get a monthly ‘allowance’ from CSN (an acronym that I’ll try and find the meaning of later). The allowance is partly free and partly an interest free (or low interest) loan from the government that every Swedish citizen is promised for up to 6 years of study. Pretty nice.

Where is the Sun?

2009-12-01T07:15:00.001-08:00

Yesterday was my darkest day in Sweden by far. I woke at 7am and ate my breakfast in the kitchen, staring out the window of our high-rise building at the chill navy blue darkness. The lights had to be fastened to the bike before setting out.

Class was from 8am to 10am in a building connected to the law library via a complex connection of glass doors and hallways. When I got there, the teacher looked as sleep-reflective as the rest of us – unshaven and mute, gazing back out across the room from his swivel chair in which he peacefully reclined with legs stretched out.

When I emerged from class, it was only to creep up the stairs and sit at a table to review past lectures for an hour before making my way down and around through the building’s interior to the basement in the library where the computers are kept.

After printing out a few mock exams for review, I moved myself a few feet from the computer to a clear table and began to write out the exams – by the yellow light of a desk lamp and the filtered gray of the Swedish sun.

Afterwards I met with some equally concerned and bemused classmates to discuss the upcoming exam. By then I had dedicated six hours of the day to study and felt content – as content as one can be before an exam.

From the library, I walked along the canal bedecked with illuminated trees in a mist of rain. The sky was barely blue and just beginning to adopt the near black of night. I unlocked my bike, slapped on the lights, and went back home.

Observations of Fall in Sweden

2009-10-13T08:27:00.001-07:00

Despite the swift decent into darkness and an enthusiastic drop in temperatures, Fall in Sweden is about the same as Fall in Pennsylvania. The trees do, however, change color rather slowly. I noticed today, biking to school in temperatures just above freezing, that there are quite a few trees that are still stubbornly holding on to the green color. It’s baffling when current temperatures equate to those around Thanksgiving – when the trees have all abandoned their leaves – when my family instates a leaf-raking day. It’s rather foreboding: if the trees don’t think it’s cold yet…

Embracing the darkness is becoming a daily adventure. It’s 5:20pm and the sun is well into the horizon – as if it were running away from the chill wind blowing leaves and nonsense at my window like droplets of hail. Wherever it’s going, the sun, I want to follow because after a bit of the Swedish climate, you start to notice an alarming decrease in clothing reserves. Where’d all my long sleeved shirts go, you ask yourself while digging under the bed, through the laundry basket, and in the closet. After a bit of fruitless searching, you realize, Ah! You are wearing your entire wardrobe.

That’s about when you realize that the lack of sunlight is the least of your worries. Your fingers freezing to the handles of your bike IS.

I will end by saying that the darkness is romantic when viewed from the warm side of double plated glass. My favorite pastime is sitting in a cafe outside of the train station and watching the lights come alive as darkness falls. The only depressing bit is remembering that pretty soon I’ll be one of those sorry sods clutching the lapels of their jackets, desperately holding onto warmth, as they dash across the street. Maybe one more cup of coffee, I console myself.

On a side note, I’m nursing a vibrant coffee addiction!

Random Observations (from the past)…

2009-10-07T05:24:00.001-07:00

- - - Just to show you that the blog wasn’t completely absent from my mind (okay, maybe it was 50% there and 50% not), here are some clips from the past that I never quite managed to edit or post. For various apparent reasons. - - -

It’s officially hot water bottle season in Sweden. I love snuggling up with my blue elephant, whom I was all set to name ‘Sheikh’ (because there are elephants in the Middle East, right? don’t argue!) until I came upon this video:

…and then I had doubts. Granted, there is no correlation at all between elephant and Arabic belly dancers but now the manly aspect of the name is lost on me. Back to the drawing board.

Anyway, I feel like an old woman. In fact, I’m quite convinced that I should skip my 20s and 30s to jump right into my 40s. In fact, lately I’ve been feeling like putting my hair in a bun, exchanging the contact lenses for spectacles, and acquiring an overly large and hairy dog named “Bruno” to sit on my feet as I knit unethically large hats. I blame the weather.

I blame today’s random-ness on today’s writing assignment: the difficulties of nation-building in post-Soviet Central Asian republics. My mind is willing to alight on any subject but that, it seems. And my inability to finish the writing assignment illustrates that to the T. 10.13.2009

Catching Up…

2009-09-29T10:35:00.001-07:00

It wasn’t my original plan to blog less than once a month but that’s how things have come to pass. Not to say that nothing of note has happened, quite the opposite (if you discount the grueling hours spent in the library where not much happens at all besides effusive amounts of brain pain).

So the best way to play a massive months worth of catching up is to summarize, compartmentalize, and otherwise be brief. I know, it’s not that much fun for me either. Who doesn’t like detail? (Unless one has to spend hours reading about central economic planning in the USSR or decades studying Chinesenationalistspiritinaboringasheckbook…I’m not grumbling, who’s grumbling?)

What I’m doing here and how things work:

Okay, I’m studying for a M.A. in International Political Science. I have classes Monday, Tuesday, and Friday. Sounds easy, right? Ah, hah. If you fall into that lovely trap of thought, you’re where I was about a month ago. Sitting through lectures is the easy part – so easy that I sometimes feel a bit cheated being there. The difficulty comes in the tonnage of reading due each week. On a weekly average, I must read a 300+ pg book along with one or two journal articles. After that (about the time my thoughts turn to arson) I must write a three page paper due on Thursday at 3pm. None of that American double-spaced luxuriousness. I’m talkin’ single space with .5 margins all around.

I know, it all could be worse. And so far I am passing…but with the unsettling feeling of not knowing how close I am to NOT. That, the quick turnaround of new subject matter, and the weekly repeat of READREADWRITE makes for a bit of stress.

Time for a bit of demographics:

The one reassuring justification I have for studying here is the breadth of diversity in the student body and population in Uppsala. I am decidedly the minority with the majority of students in my program speaking either Turkish or Russian. The influx of Asians makes me believe that my housing complex is actually a Swedish China town.

My classmates are awesome: Turkey, Belarus, Sweden, Czech, Slovakia, Canada, China, and Kyrgyzstan. Looking at that list, I realize how lopsided our global representation is: no represent for Africa or South America… But they’re all open-minded and fun – plus we have unity in our disunity and this shared new experience pulls us together in a way. Well, we all seemed to agree on the shoddiness of one of our professors. I feel lucky.

Swedish Culture Corner:

What about this thing called Swedish culture? With every post, I’d like to share a little bit of what I’ve learned of the “Swedish experience.”

Fall in Sweden is a time for apples and crayfish (kräftor) parties. The crayfish are sold frozen by the dozen in cardboard boxes, cooked, and stacked in concentric circles – their little red bodies make an attractive accent to any Swedish dinner party. I haven’t tried but I hear it’s a lot of work for little profit – like cracking open a small crab for an ounce of meat. My theory is that the work makes you thirsty and the occasion leads to the consumption of large amounts of alcohol rather than large amounts of food.

In which I become an English teacher…again…and again.

My neighbors are an Iranian couple and I’ve somehow become the girl’s English teacher. Well, I’m not teaching so much as correcting. “Nope, that’s wrong. And don’t ask me why!” Nah, we chat and so far I’ve learned immense amounts about Iran. Did you know that men are granted custody of children in divorce cases in Iran? This leads many women to remain in unhappy marriages for the sake of their children. I can’t stress how invaluable it is talking with both of them. And the more I learn, the more I feel that classrooms in America deny students the full picture.

One of my classmates is struggling with her English and I’ve agreed to read her papers and give pointers as time allows. She’ll then read mine and do the same (in terms of structure and contact…not language…I hope!). One of the problems with class is that almost every week presents a new teacher with new standards. Big incentive to give 110% each time!

Camera, Action, Shoot!

Yup, I’m starring in an amateur film shot in Stockholm. Come now, it’s not as glorious as it sounds (but it sure is awesooome!). This is a first for me so I can’t help but squeal and be giddy; I’m an international film star! Don’t worry, my ego shall not grow – I believe my character expires early on.

The End…

That’s all I have time for today. I’ve gotta resume writing the paper due on Thursday while the ideas are still fresh.

Comment and drop me a line! Anything in particular you want to hear about?

Up to the cool reaches…

2009-08-26T13:46:00.000-07:00

Sitting beside this open window on the 6th floor of my high rise student dormitory, it’s hard to physically recall the chest-compressing heat of home. The inescapable sauna that oppresses the mind and drains energy like a nickel sized hole in a pail of water. It’s not something you’d expect to miss. Yet now that I’m in Sweden and the highest temperature of the past 4 days hasn’t exceeded 76°C, I subconsciously wonder to where all that heat has run off.

I wish I could start this blog with some bombastic monologue over the depths of mental ambiguity associated with transatlantic travel BUT I’d rather continue on with a more sensual delivery (as in related to the five senses).

I arrived in Sweden after a long and tedious flight to London and a short puddle jumper to Stockholm, stepped out of the terminal, and faced a strong, warm wind. Refreshing without being chilling (a factor I believe will change soon enough), winds here seem to come from every direction, which makes biking problematic. With my big boxed bike (which managed to nibble its way out of the box – only partially) and my pink suitcase, a gift of my grandma, I had a happy reunion with Carl outside of customs.* From there we boarded a bus and got ourselves to Uppsala.

One of the things that had worried me was how the bike would survive such a journey: mom and I had taken off the front wheel and shoved the whole thing in a regulation sized box with just a handful of bubble wrap minutes before departure. Besides the giant hole from my ravenous wheel hub, it survived quite nicely. Carl and I pieced it together on the curb after about 10 minutes of work (under the watchful stares of a handful of Swedes). Now my beautiful red, magnum beast is fit for travel! She’s already seen a few miles of Sweden and so far it’s like a slice of chocolate raspberry cheesecake.

I’ll just do a few highlights of the past days here. Carl helped me acquire a Swedish SIM card for my phone. Along with shopping for various amenities, I’ve been enjoying the cool night air of Flogsta and running to town on my bike.

Today was a day of many things. The illusive juggler finally made an appearance today in the front lawn of one of the other buildings. I grabbed my balls and quick ran out the door (…yes) to juggle for a good hour or so. Marcus is the name and he got me going on the next step in partner juggling as well as the toss behind the back trick. He’s pretty much a master and I hate him. Haha No, no. But he got me some information about a circus club that meets near the main station. Soon I’ll be learning to juggle while people practice contorting and eating fire. And whatnot. It sounds like good times!

After that, Carl and I went out for a walk. But like many things in Sweden, you can’t go out the door fully expecting the obvious. We stopped at the nearby playground and came upon a friend from the corridor, Alex, and another Swede named Emil. The two then worked out using the various ropes and wood structures meant for kiddies. Emil kept asking me to go try (as he proceeded to do about a million push-ups UPSIDE DOWN from a rope net. I declined politely. The final session of the workout was carrying each other up seven flights of stairs, which smacked of this sport recently brought to my attention: Finnish Wife Carrying Championships. Who could pass up the opportunity? I can hold my head high and say that I’ve been hitched up seven flights of stairs twice – by two Swedes. Carl did it once and Emil second. It’s not the first choice I’d have taken at getting to know someone better. But it works in its own sweaty, jostling way. (and when the boys are quite handsome)

Later we all met in the sauna on the 7th floor. I’ve never participated in the European sauna-culture before and it wasn’t as bad as my hyped up fears of hot, closed spaces. We boiled in the sauna talking about things and nonsense (nonsense being whatever I missed in the Swedish exchanges) for about 15 minutes before sprinting to the bathroom to fill balloons with water. The rest of that story is easy to summarize: cold Swedish evening, half-naked people, a roof, and water balloons. Plus several unhappy pedestrians and bikers. We got ourselves good and cold before heading back to the sauna. Repeat said procedure twice or thrice for good time.

The following day I stood in a long line to acquire my temporary student ID card as well as a few shopping adventures to pick up the last odds and ends. The city is packed with many other young people doing just the same. New students are moving into the corridor every day.

Here’s the runup:
Iranian Couple
Italian Dude
Australian Chick
4 Swedes
Indian Dude
…and me, the American.

And everyone has friends so we’ve been inundated by Italians and Indians. It’s quite fun and makes for an interesting mix. Still two or three rooms to fill…

Almost up to date now: Yesterday I went with Alex, the Swede, to Ikea for my first ever safari into that surprisingly un-exotic, big-box land of mass capitalism. I bought a pillow. We ran into the Iranian couple next door and we all squeezed into Alex's car for the ride home.

Other odds and ends over the past few days include cooking, cleaning, shopping, reading, and registering for a Swedish Social Security number so I can get health coverage. Tomorrow is an introductory meeting for masters students at the university from 3pm-5pm. I hope to find the building and get all suited up for studies! Although Friday is THE day for class and program registration, I’m much looking forward to jumping into things.

Well, that is that. I seem to have gotten the creative wind blown out of my sails but I hope to update more regularly as the days go on. It’s an adjustment here (as is every step in life) but I’ve learned to take it like Silly Putty: at first it picks up a nice, neat imprint of the newspaper then it slowly smudges and loses that fine edge. Finally, it then gets integrated into the pink pudgy mass turning all things a bit gray. Dang, that stuff is weird! And Slinkies! Who invented these toys and why? :D

*Swedish customs is sort of interesting. You have your passport checked before entering to reclaim your baggage. After you have reclaimed your suitcases, you then walk down a hallway and out the door. I breezed past about 6 uniformed officials with a smile and nod. If you have anything to declare, I suppose you’d speak with them and with my overly large bag, I did feel a mite nervous.