It's snowing outside right now in Lund, and once more I have done an awful job updating this journal. I only have 17 days left in Sweden and it's brought me around to some reflection of the time I have spent here, the people I've met, and the things that I have experienced. But let me recap for a moment.
Since I wrote about my trip to Stockholm, I have gone to Dublin, Budapest, and then Stockholm again (för andra gången). I didn't realize that I would ever be so busy with school and traveling, and the simple task of living while abroad. I definitely could not have predicted the things that have happened to me and there is no way that I could have guessed that this is how I was going to spend my time in Sweden. My life is so different on this side of the world that I can't imagine returning home, to my old life and my old self. Well, I imagine that I will never quite be my old self again.
One of my best friends at UCLA last year, Maura, always told me that studying abroad would change me -- change who I was. She said that I would have such a different perspective of the world, of life, and of myself. Well, I can say that at least one thing is changed: I now speak Swedish! I have noticed how small the world is, how within a few hours I can be across the continent in Italy, or Ireland, or how near I have been living to Russia and the Arctic Circle. But I have always realized how large the world is at the same time -- I have experienced how far away I have been from my family in Chicago and California and also from Maura, who is teaching English in Japan. I have experienced how hard it is to get together with friends who are only a few hours away, like my German friends who are just too busy to travel non-stop and who I haven't made enough of an effort to it into my hectic life. So I ask, why must the world be so big? Why can't Sweden and Japan be neighbors? Why can't I travel from Los Angeles to Göttingen (Germany) within the blink of an eye? Even though the world is so connected, I have still seen how far apart us humans can be.
So, even as I sit here watching the snow fall and watching my time in Sweden wind away, I still am not sure what the lesson is that I have learned during my six months in Europe. I will keep thinking about it. But my best answer is that I haven't learned one, but many. I think what is most important is that I have really learned how to live.
Well, I have a research paper to write. I promise to write more again soon. Take care.
Here is some Swedish for you to learn:
för andra gången -- for the second time
sex månader -- six months
snö -- snow
is -- ice
världen -- the world
Cities I've Visited
- Lund, Sweden
- Dresden, Germany
- Rome, Italy
- Dublin, Ireland
- Stockholm, Sweden
- Lucca, Italy
- Bruges, Belgium
- Chicago, IL, USA
- Copenhagen, Denmark
- View my profile
- Create your own travel map or travel blog
- Travel Info at TripAdvisor
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Jag åkte till Stockholm för första gangen!
Wow. I've been incredibly lame and haven't posted here in over a month. It seems I've ever been fantastically busy, or just plain lazy. Well, let's say that it's a mixture of both. I've been in Sweden for four months now, and I'm very sad to say that there are only two months left in this wonderful adventure. As I continue the downhill leg of this trip and reluctantly look California straight in the eye, I'm going to try my best to really live up this experience and truly enjoy my last two months as a viking. Honestly, I'm just going to have tons of fun (don't worry, Mom, not too much fun!)
So this last weekend I finally made the trek north to the capital city of Stockholm. It's the first time that I've traveled outside of Lund, but remained in Sweden. I didn't think much of it, but I quickly realized that hearing Swedish around me was actually shocking. I realized that I was really expecting to hear German, Italian, or some language that I don't understand. I was not expecting to be traveling on the metro, listening to a little girl talk about a friend who is two years younger than her -- and actually understand the story she was telling her father. I had to keep reminding myself that even though I was traveling, I was still in Sweden! Although, I must admit, it was a bit easier to understand Stockholmska Swedish than the Skånska Swedish that I am mostly surrounded by (since I do live in the southern Swedish region of Skåne). Here's an example:
The Stockholmers turn "s" into an "sh" sound, while Skånska does not. So in Stockholm, the word "thursday" (torsdag) is pronounced "torshdah" rather than "torsdah"
Stockholmers also do not pronounce heavy "h" sounds like those in Skåne (a relic of Skåne's Danish heritage). Therefore, the word "maybe" (kanske) is pronounced "KANshuh" in Stockholm, but in my Skåne dialect, I always say "kanHWAY" (heavy with the "h")
Also, I think Stockholmers are a bit more nasally than Skånska speakers. It's actually a bit offputting when a really beautiful girl says "hej" ("hey") so far up in her nose that she sounds like a cartoon character. But then, I hear this in Skåne sometimes too (probably by displaced Stockholmers!)
I also learned a very important cultural gesture in Sweden, in relation to people from Stockholm. The rest of Sweden tends to view Stockholmers as a bit stuck up. And whereas in America, we might represent this by turning our noses in the air and raising our eyebrows in a hauty manner -- in Sweden, they run their hands through their hair in a "slicking back" motion to portray a stuck-up attitude. See, I'm learning very important cultural things here!!
So anyway, I went to Stockholm. Finally. I was actually waiting for my friend Courtney to move up there -- she studied Swedish with me in Lund over the summer and moved up to Stockholm for a job in September, so I was planning on visiting her when she got all settled in and was ready to show me around town. It was lots of fun to see Courtney (and her boyfriend Blake, too) again. Stockholm was absolutely beautiful and I think it is one of the most beautiful cities that I have been too. Stockholm likes to advertise itself as the "Venice of the North" -- as do most cities that lie anywhere near water. But Stockholm isn't like Venice very much: Venice is one island, Stockholm is 14 connected by bridges. Venice is decaying, sinking, a relic of its past glory. Stockholm is in the midst of its glory -- colorful, bright, glowing, and sprawling. Forget that Stockholm is a lot colder, and it is hands-down the more beautiful of the two cities. But maybe it's just that I'm a little biased -- I much prefer the pink, red, orange, and green six-story buildings of Stockholm to the Turkish-inspired spires and vaults of Venice. However, I can say that having family from both Stockholm and Venice is a treat and it made me look at both cities with wider eyes.
I also finally tried some pickled herring. Courtney insisted that I had to try it at least once, and she knew a place where it was good. We went to the oldest restaurant in Stockholm -- a place founded by German monks in Gamla Stan back in 1491 (for those of you who are historically challenged, that's a year before Columbus sailed the ocean blue to discover the land which would later become my country of origin. Now isn't that something?) Well, what can I say? The Swedes aren't so crazy after all, that was some delicious pickled herring! I honestly would have some more!
My favorite part of the city was, of course, the oldest part of the city: Gamla Stan (literally means "The Old City"). We also went up into Gondolen (The Gondola), which is a viewpoint in Slussen (an island neighboring Gamla Stan), where you can get a gorgeous panorama of the whole city. It was windy, and cold, but absolutely worth it. I just can't describe the sheer elegance, quaintness, and beauty of this city. I know that most people would never think to include Sweden on the Euro-Trips, and most people never even imagine themselves going anywhere as far north as Stockholm -- but seriously people! Do it! Go! I promise you it's worth it!
So here's some Swedish for you to learn:
gammal -- old
staden (shortened: stan) -- the city
två år äldre än hon -- two years older than her
Jag åkte till stockholm för första gangen! -- I went to Stockholm for the first time!
So this last weekend I finally made the trek north to the capital city of Stockholm. It's the first time that I've traveled outside of Lund, but remained in Sweden. I didn't think much of it, but I quickly realized that hearing Swedish around me was actually shocking. I realized that I was really expecting to hear German, Italian, or some language that I don't understand. I was not expecting to be traveling on the metro, listening to a little girl talk about a friend who is two years younger than her -- and actually understand the story she was telling her father. I had to keep reminding myself that even though I was traveling, I was still in Sweden! Although, I must admit, it was a bit easier to understand Stockholmska Swedish than the Skånska Swedish that I am mostly surrounded by (since I do live in the southern Swedish region of Skåne). Here's an example:
The Stockholmers turn "s" into an "sh" sound, while Skånska does not. So in Stockholm, the word "thursday" (torsdag) is pronounced "torshdah" rather than "torsdah"
Stockholmers also do not pronounce heavy "h" sounds like those in Skåne (a relic of Skåne's Danish heritage). Therefore, the word "maybe" (kanske) is pronounced "KANshuh" in Stockholm, but in my Skåne dialect, I always say "kanHWAY" (heavy with the "h")
Also, I think Stockholmers are a bit more nasally than Skånska speakers. It's actually a bit offputting when a really beautiful girl says "hej" ("hey") so far up in her nose that she sounds like a cartoon character. But then, I hear this in Skåne sometimes too (probably by displaced Stockholmers!)
I also learned a very important cultural gesture in Sweden, in relation to people from Stockholm. The rest of Sweden tends to view Stockholmers as a bit stuck up. And whereas in America, we might represent this by turning our noses in the air and raising our eyebrows in a hauty manner -- in Sweden, they run their hands through their hair in a "slicking back" motion to portray a stuck-up attitude. See, I'm learning very important cultural things here!!
So anyway, I went to Stockholm. Finally. I was actually waiting for my friend Courtney to move up there -- she studied Swedish with me in Lund over the summer and moved up to Stockholm for a job in September, so I was planning on visiting her when she got all settled in and was ready to show me around town. It was lots of fun to see Courtney (and her boyfriend Blake, too) again. Stockholm was absolutely beautiful and I think it is one of the most beautiful cities that I have been too. Stockholm likes to advertise itself as the "Venice of the North" -- as do most cities that lie anywhere near water. But Stockholm isn't like Venice very much: Venice is one island, Stockholm is 14 connected by bridges. Venice is decaying, sinking, a relic of its past glory. Stockholm is in the midst of its glory -- colorful, bright, glowing, and sprawling. Forget that Stockholm is a lot colder, and it is hands-down the more beautiful of the two cities. But maybe it's just that I'm a little biased -- I much prefer the pink, red, orange, and green six-story buildings of Stockholm to the Turkish-inspired spires and vaults of Venice. However, I can say that having family from both Stockholm and Venice is a treat and it made me look at both cities with wider eyes.
I also finally tried some pickled herring. Courtney insisted that I had to try it at least once, and she knew a place where it was good. We went to the oldest restaurant in Stockholm -- a place founded by German monks in Gamla Stan back in 1491 (for those of you who are historically challenged, that's a year before Columbus sailed the ocean blue to discover the land which would later become my country of origin. Now isn't that something?) Well, what can I say? The Swedes aren't so crazy after all, that was some delicious pickled herring! I honestly would have some more!
My favorite part of the city was, of course, the oldest part of the city: Gamla Stan (literally means "The Old City"). We also went up into Gondolen (The Gondola), which is a viewpoint in Slussen (an island neighboring Gamla Stan), where you can get a gorgeous panorama of the whole city. It was windy, and cold, but absolutely worth it. I just can't describe the sheer elegance, quaintness, and beauty of this city. I know that most people would never think to include Sweden on the Euro-Trips, and most people never even imagine themselves going anywhere as far north as Stockholm -- but seriously people! Do it! Go! I promise you it's worth it!
So here's some Swedish for you to learn:
gammal -- old
staden (shortened: stan) -- the city
två år äldre än hon -- two years older than her
Jag åkte till stockholm för första gangen! -- I went to Stockholm for the first time!
Sunday, September 28, 2008
The Cinque Terre
I have noticed that the leaves have begun to change color in Sweden. Suddenly, I feel like I am in one of the college movies, that take place at Harvard or Yale in the fall, where the old buildings are covered in ivy and all the leaves are dancing colorfully in the brisk autumn breezes ... except the buildings here are a lot older, and the autumn breezes here are breezier and crisper, I'm sure.
So let me recap on my travels, which I have been ignoring in fantastic form since my return from Italy. Seriously, I think that month of traveling really wiped me out and I didn't even want to sit down and think about the mind-boggling experiences that I had -- lest my head explode. So --
After Venezia, Lauren and I headed back west to the fabled Cinque Terre, or Five Lands. On the train ride from Venice back to Florence (en route to C.T.), we ended up sitting with a group of very old nuns, who were very kind and pleasant and offered us their sandwiches (but seriously, who takes food from a poor old nun??). They were really impressed that Lauren speaks some Italian (and thought it was funny that I did not -- after all, I'm the one who looks Italian, not Lauren!). And even though Lauren was at first skeptical about sitting with these beacons of faith (being atheist scum that she is, and partially I am), she had a good time talking to them and I have the sneaking suspicion that they blessed us underneath their breath, because for the next week or so we were amazingly lucky.
Somehow, we found our way onto the right train from Viareggio to Riomaggiore, the first of the five towns that makes up the CT. Once in Riomaggiore, we found that the hostel we were planning on staying in was closed indefinitely. So we were without a place to stay. It was wickedly humid, we had our backpacks strapped on still, and Riomaggiore consists of one main street which is impossibly steep up into the mountain-side. We trecked up this hill, stopping and asking at every door that said they had rooms, but everybody was full. We even tried to convince a hostel owner, who had only one bed open for the night, that we "could snuggle" and share the one bed. But I don't think he was buying it. Finally, we found a place that would rent us a double for the 3-nights we were staying -- for only 50 Euro a night! That's 25 Euro each, for those bad at math (like me), and since most hostels at 20-22 Euro a night, it was a deal to get our own room with bathroom and locking door!
Once in the room we immediately got into our bathing suits and went down to the "beach" in Riomaggiore to wash off our sweat and to celebrate our good fortune (we actually called it "nun-luck"). The "beach" was just a bunch of large rocks, and while it was fun swimming around in the waves, I got pretty cut up trying to get back onto the beach.
At night, we walked the "Via dell' Amore" (Path of Love), that wound around the mountain-side from Riomaggiore to
the next town, Manarola. It was here that Lauren took me to a Gelateria which blew my mind. Hands down, this was THE BEST gelato in the world, at this small cafe overlooking the small inlet of ocean. We actually did this every single night we were in the Cinque Terre -- walked the Via dell' Amore to Manarola, where we quietly enjoyed the best cantaloupe gelato and watched the sun set and the waves crash onto the rocky coast. Heaven.
We spent most of our time in the Cinque Terre laying out on the beach and getting fantastic Italian tans. The only town with anything resembling an actual beach (i.e. sand) was in Monterosso, the most touristy of the five towns. We stopped in Vernazza for a little while too, but it was pretty much like the other three towns we had visited, and I thought Manarola was much cuter and less touristy than Vernazza (and with better gelato), and we didn't even stop in Corniglia because it was high up in the mountain and we didn't feel like walking all those stairs or paying for the bus. There wasn't much to see anyway.
Beyond that, there isn't much to report on the Cinque Terre. They were beautiful for a mid-backpacking vacation from vacation. Beautiful views, delicious gelato, and best of all -- no museums, no artwork, no ancient sites. Just pure and heavenly enjoyment.
So from here, I should continue on and tell you about my trip to Rome. Ahh, Rome. This city absolutely blew me away like no other place in Italy or Sweden or Germany had. I think I would have to give Rome it's own lengthy post for all the wonders and surprises it presented to me (including reunification with some old friends). But for now, my fingers are tired from writing papers for my Swedish class, so it will have to wait until tomorrow.
Here is some Italian for you to learn:
camare -- rooms
cinque -- five
spiaggia -- beach
melone -- cantaloupe
So let me recap on my travels, which I have been ignoring in fantastic form since my return from Italy. Seriously, I think that month of traveling really wiped me out and I didn't even want to sit down and think about the mind-boggling experiences that I had -- lest my head explode. So --
After Venezia, Lauren and I headed back west to the fabled Cinque Terre, or Five Lands. On the train ride from Venice back to Florence (en route to C.T.), we ended up sitting with a group of very old nuns, who were very kind and pleasant and offered us their sandwiches (but seriously, who takes food from a poor old nun??). They were really impressed that Lauren speaks some Italian (and thought it was funny that I did not -- after all, I'm the one who looks Italian, not Lauren!). And even though Lauren was at first skeptical about sitting with these beacons of faith (being atheist scum that she is, and partially I am), she had a good time talking to them and I have the sneaking suspicion that they blessed us underneath their breath, because for the next week or so we were amazingly lucky.
Somehow, we found our way onto the right train from Viareggio to Riomaggiore, the first of the five towns that makes up the CT. Once in Riomaggiore, we found that the hostel we were planning on staying in was closed indefinitely. So we were without a place to stay. It was wickedly humid, we had our backpacks strapped on still, and Riomaggiore consists of one main street which is impossibly steep up into the mountain-side. We trecked up this hill, stopping and asking at every door that said they had rooms, but everybody was full. We even tried to convince a hostel owner, who had only one bed open for the night, that we "could snuggle" and share the one bed. But I don't think he was buying it. Finally, we found a place that would rent us a double for the 3-nights we were staying -- for only 50 Euro a night! That's 25 Euro each, for those bad at math (like me), and since most hostels at 20-22 Euro a night, it was a deal to get our own room with bathroom and locking door!
Once in the room we immediately got into our bathing suits and went down to the "beach" in Riomaggiore to wash off our sweat and to celebrate our good fortune (we actually called it "nun-luck"). The "beach" was just a bunch of large rocks, and while it was fun swimming around in the waves, I got pretty cut up trying to get back onto the beach.
At night, we walked the "Via dell' Amore" (Path of Love), that wound around the mountain-side from Riomaggiore to
the next town, Manarola. It was here that Lauren took me to a Gelateria which blew my mind. Hands down, this was THE BEST gelato in the world, at this small cafe overlooking the small inlet of ocean. We actually did this every single night we were in the Cinque Terre -- walked the Via dell' Amore to Manarola, where we quietly enjoyed the best cantaloupe gelato and watched the sun set and the waves crash onto the rocky coast. Heaven.We spent most of our time in the Cinque Terre laying out on the beach and getting fantastic Italian tans. The only town with anything resembling an actual beach (i.e. sand) was in Monterosso, the most touristy of the five towns. We stopped in Vernazza for a little while too, but it was pretty much like the other three towns we had visited, and I thought Manarola was much cuter and less touristy than Vernazza (and with better gelato), and we didn't even stop in Corniglia because it was high up in the mountain and we didn't feel like walking all those stairs or paying for the bus. There wasn't much to see anyway.
Beyond that, there isn't much to report on the Cinque Terre. They were beautiful for a mid-backpacking vacation from vacation. Beautiful views, delicious gelato, and best of all -- no museums, no artwork, no ancient sites. Just pure and heavenly enjoyment.
So from here, I should continue on and tell you about my trip to Rome. Ahh, Rome. This city absolutely blew me away like no other place in Italy or Sweden or Germany had. I think I would have to give Rome it's own lengthy post for all the wonders and surprises it presented to me (including reunification with some old friends). But for now, my fingers are tired from writing papers for my Swedish class, so it will have to wait until tomorrow.
Here is some Italian for you to learn:
camare -- rooms
cinque -- five
spiaggia -- beach
melone -- cantaloupe
Friday, September 26, 2008
Ambassadors
My stay in Sweden is now more than halfway over. Seriously. I've already been abroad for over three months and I've only got less than three months left. It felt like just yesterday that I was sitting on that SAS flight on my way to Copenhagen, just yesterday when Lauren and I were sitting at my house in Rocklin scheming about our Italian vacation, just yesterday that I was turning in my application to study abroad. But here I am -- it's a success story, already, of my ability to not only live on my own but in an entirely different culture than my native one. I've dealt with so many things since I've been in Sweden -- sickness, class scheduling conflicts, and internet troubles. I even helped my friend call a locksmith when her key broke off in her lock at midnight. So I think I've been pretty good these last three months, and I'm not scared of the next three. That said, I'm already dreading coming home.
Yes, of course, I want to see my parents and my brothers. I can't believe that life in America hasn't stood still since I've been gone -- Kenny went to Hawai'i on business (lucky!), and Steve got a brand new job in Boston, MA!! So now my family is spead all over the world, Ken in Ohio, Steve in Massachusetts, and me in Sweden. My poor mom -- now Ken is the closest one to her, and he's over 2,000 miles away! And of course I want to see my dog, Cisco, most of all (miss ya Bobbaloo!), but it's the idea of going back to UCLA that I'm not fond of. I'd much rather come back to Lunds Universitet.
I also realized last night that I actually feel sort of bad for these Swedish people. I mean, don't get me wrong, they are so lucky to be Swedish and live in this wonderful place. But as I've been teaching them the meanings of various English swear words which they've picked up, the Soulja Boy dance, and what it means to be "hyphy", I've realized -- I'm not really the best ambassador for these things. Honestly, half the time I don't even know where swear words and insults come from, and who am I (very white and not ashamed) to be instructing even whiter people on the Soulja Boy dance? I feel sort of sad for them that their access to learning these things from American pop-culture has to come from such a bad representative. But then, maybe they are better off not learning these things altogether.
And now I've realized that I never finished describing my trip through Italy, or my stay in Eastern Germany with Daniela's hilarious family, or even my most recent trip to Bruges. So I'll have to spend the next few days chronicling these adventures. But first, let's focus on Sweden -- I mean, it is the country which I decided to come to, and I have had the bulk of my experiences and learning right here in Scandinavia!!
All in all, I'm surprised by the professors here. Firstly, I don't know any of my professors last names. Seriously. They insist that I call them Jens, Anamaria, and Annika, respectively. And they're so relaxed, it seems. Honestly, Jens once asked our class if we had done our readings for the discussion. He said, "If not, that's okay, in that case I'll have something else for you to do." Seriously! Thankfully no one owned up to not having read the book and we plodded along through the discussion just fine.
Also, there are much more limited resources here in Sweden than back in California. I've grown used to a 24-hour library where I can check out books and do my readings at leisure. But here the libraries are only open from 10 - 18 (that's 10am to 6pm), which is totally ridiculous if I have class until 17 (5pm) and want to get some reading done after class from the library reserves. I realized that this isn't just a complaint of Americans either, as I ran into a Canadian girl who absolutely agreed with me about the ridiculous hours of the library. I mean, the libraries aren't even open on Sundays! What about last minute homework and readings that must be done?
The main library is also the only place where students without printers can print out their papers. At UCLA there was a large computer study room in each building grouping (one for rieber, one for hedric, etc.) that were ALSO open 24-hours. So what's up Sweden? Do Swedish students not really need all that library time? Well, probably not, since their professors don't even mind if they don't do their readings! But I'd at least like to learn SOMETHING while I'm here. If I just wanted a six-month vacation from school, I would have gone to study abroad somewhere like Italy or Spain (sorry Lauren), where there are more disko-clubs than classrooms. But honestly, I really am learning quite a bit, especially since I'm taking classes a bit outside the realm of UCLA anthropology. It's nice to not have to listen to the same things over and over again (anthro classes can get sort of redundant). So far, none of my professors have thrown up a big pictures of Indiana Jones on the powerpoint and said "This is NOT anthropology!" Duh.
But my fellow (Swedish) students are fantastic. I've even gotten to be pretty good friends with my floormates (or corridor-mates as it translates here), though it's taken some time. My friend Fredrika was shocked when I told her that the expensive types of mascara only cost $8 in America (that's 50:- crowns, whereas cheap mascara here is 150:- crowns!!!) She insisted that there must be something that is cheaper in Sweden that in the States. I told her if it exists, I have not found it! And then she told me that my favorite chocolate brand here is sold in IKEA -- so guess where I'm going once I get back to California? :-)
Here's some Swedish for you to learn:
choklad -- chocolate
fantatisk -- fantastic (that's an easy one)
antropologi -- anthropology (ok, there's another easy one)
Social- och- Beendevetenskap Biblioteket -- The Social and Behavior Science Library (that's my home library!)
lärare -- teacher/professor
Yes, of course, I want to see my parents and my brothers. I can't believe that life in America hasn't stood still since I've been gone -- Kenny went to Hawai'i on business (lucky!), and Steve got a brand new job in Boston, MA!! So now my family is spead all over the world, Ken in Ohio, Steve in Massachusetts, and me in Sweden. My poor mom -- now Ken is the closest one to her, and he's over 2,000 miles away! And of course I want to see my dog, Cisco, most of all (miss ya Bobbaloo!), but it's the idea of going back to UCLA that I'm not fond of. I'd much rather come back to Lunds Universitet.
I also realized last night that I actually feel sort of bad for these Swedish people. I mean, don't get me wrong, they are so lucky to be Swedish and live in this wonderful place. But as I've been teaching them the meanings of various English swear words which they've picked up, the Soulja Boy dance, and what it means to be "hyphy", I've realized -- I'm not really the best ambassador for these things. Honestly, half the time I don't even know where swear words and insults come from, and who am I (very white and not ashamed) to be instructing even whiter people on the Soulja Boy dance? I feel sort of sad for them that their access to learning these things from American pop-culture has to come from such a bad representative. But then, maybe they are better off not learning these things altogether.
And now I've realized that I never finished describing my trip through Italy, or my stay in Eastern Germany with Daniela's hilarious family, or even my most recent trip to Bruges. So I'll have to spend the next few days chronicling these adventures. But first, let's focus on Sweden -- I mean, it is the country which I decided to come to, and I have had the bulk of my experiences and learning right here in Scandinavia!!
All in all, I'm surprised by the professors here. Firstly, I don't know any of my professors last names. Seriously. They insist that I call them Jens, Anamaria, and Annika, respectively. And they're so relaxed, it seems. Honestly, Jens once asked our class if we had done our readings for the discussion. He said, "If not, that's okay, in that case I'll have something else for you to do." Seriously! Thankfully no one owned up to not having read the book and we plodded along through the discussion just fine.
Also, there are much more limited resources here in Sweden than back in California. I've grown used to a 24-hour library where I can check out books and do my readings at leisure. But here the libraries are only open from 10 - 18 (that's 10am to 6pm), which is totally ridiculous if I have class until 17 (5pm) and want to get some reading done after class from the library reserves. I realized that this isn't just a complaint of Americans either, as I ran into a Canadian girl who absolutely agreed with me about the ridiculous hours of the library. I mean, the libraries aren't even open on Sundays! What about last minute homework and readings that must be done?
The main library is also the only place where students without printers can print out their papers. At UCLA there was a large computer study room in each building grouping (one for rieber, one for hedric, etc.) that were ALSO open 24-hours. So what's up Sweden? Do Swedish students not really need all that library time? Well, probably not, since their professors don't even mind if they don't do their readings! But I'd at least like to learn SOMETHING while I'm here. If I just wanted a six-month vacation from school, I would have gone to study abroad somewhere like Italy or Spain (sorry Lauren), where there are more disko-clubs than classrooms. But honestly, I really am learning quite a bit, especially since I'm taking classes a bit outside the realm of UCLA anthropology. It's nice to not have to listen to the same things over and over again (anthro classes can get sort of redundant). So far, none of my professors have thrown up a big pictures of Indiana Jones on the powerpoint and said "This is NOT anthropology!" Duh.
But my fellow (Swedish) students are fantastic. I've even gotten to be pretty good friends with my floormates (or corridor-mates as it translates here), though it's taken some time. My friend Fredrika was shocked when I told her that the expensive types of mascara only cost $8 in America (that's 50:- crowns, whereas cheap mascara here is 150:- crowns!!!) She insisted that there must be something that is cheaper in Sweden that in the States. I told her if it exists, I have not found it! And then she told me that my favorite chocolate brand here is sold in IKEA -- so guess where I'm going once I get back to California? :-)
Here's some Swedish for you to learn:
choklad -- chocolate
fantatisk -- fantastic (that's an easy one)
antropologi -- anthropology (ok, there's another easy one)
Social- och- Beendevetenskap Biblioteket -- The Social and Behavior Science Library (that's my home library!)
lärare -- teacher/professor
Monday, September 8, 2008
Swedish Academia
So I've been doing a pretty terrible job of writing updates in this blog (and also in my own personal journal, to be perfectly honest!) The problem is, I think, that so many things are happening and it's all going so fast that my brain can't keep up -- or slow down long enough to thoughtfully represent my experiences abroad to all my dear family and friends.
I've finally started classes at Lund University. I haven't actually attended all of them yet, one doesn't start until Wednesday, and another on Thursday, so I've only had one of my four classes so far. Lund has an odd system of scheduling. My "Gender, Social Change, and Modernity" class, for example, meets mostly on Tuesdays from 2-4 or 2-5pm. But sometimes it meets on Wednesdays, and at least once it's going to meet on Thursday at 9am! And these classes alternate between the Gender Studies Dept. and the "Yellow Villa" -- which is literally a house in the Botanical Gardens which is painted yellow. Thank God, or I would have never found it. Also, most classes don't span the entire semester. "Gender, Social Change ..." began last week and will end in late October. My "New Europe" class begins this Wednesday and ends in December (this one does actually span the semester). "Swedish Social Policy" doesn't begin until early October and will end mid-November! As for my Swedish class, I don't know how long it will be. But I'm guessing that I'll have Swedish 3 for the first half of the semester, and then bump up to Swedish 4 in the second half. It's quite an interesting system.
There is also an ancient and proud tradition of "akademiska kvart" here in Sweden. It's actually only practiced at the older universities, and by that I mean, only Lund and Uppsala do it. It translates to the "academic quarter-hour." Broken down, it pretty much means that if a class is scheduled to begin at 2:00pm, nobody expects you to show up until 2:15pm. That's when the professor will come and if you come earlier (i.e. on time) you're going to be sitting around and waiting. So far I keep forgetting about it. It's an interesting system in a land which is so concerned with timeliness. Honestly, if you invite a Swede over to your house for dinner at 7pm. He will not arrive at 6:59pm nor will he arrive at 7:01pm. He will be there at 7 on the dot, barring catastrophe and even then ... it's questionable as to whether he still might be on time. So this policy of constantly be 15-minutes late is a bit questionable to me, but so far I've experienced it twice (I arrived on time, only to wait for 15 minutes for everyone else). I should explain to my Swedish friends how it works in California -- if a professor is 15 minutes late in California, you just leave -- expect class to be cancelled, the prof. is not showing up. What an interesting difference.
I've also learned the secret to attaining Swedish friends -- drinking. You don't have to get rip-roaring drunk with them and share your darkest secrets to be friends. But I've found that Swedes are very shy and reserved -- until they have a beer in their hands, and then you are instant friends. They don't even have to have drunk any of that beer. But I think the feeling of the glass (or metal can) in their hands that makes them instantly confidant and friendly.
In these same situations, I've learned that Swedes are not very good dancers. Lund has a system of "nations" which are student social groups. The closest thing in comparison in America would be the Greek system of fraternities and sororities. But the nations aren't tied up in homo-erotic paddling and hazing. They're just groups of students, both male and female, who like to get together and organize events. They serve cheap dinners made by student volunteers each night, they have "clubs" where there's good music and cheap beer (and bad Swedish dancers), they have "sittnings" which are 3-course meals where you dress up in a theme and have a lot of fun singing and eating and drinking. (I've also noticed that Swedes sing a LOT!) I haven't joined a nation yet, I'm still weighing my options, but I wish that UCLA would adopt the same system and get rid of fraternities and sororities altogether.
Well, as I continue with my classes and learn new things about Sweden, I will certainly slow down long enough to share what I've learned. Wish me luck!
Here's some Swedish for you to learn:
dansa -- dance
köns -- gender
öl -- beer
klubb -- night club
måndag, tisdag, onsdag, torsdag, fredag, lördag, sonndag -- the days of the week (MTWTFSS)
I've finally started classes at Lund University. I haven't actually attended all of them yet, one doesn't start until Wednesday, and another on Thursday, so I've only had one of my four classes so far. Lund has an odd system of scheduling. My "Gender, Social Change, and Modernity" class, for example, meets mostly on Tuesdays from 2-4 or 2-5pm. But sometimes it meets on Wednesdays, and at least once it's going to meet on Thursday at 9am! And these classes alternate between the Gender Studies Dept. and the "Yellow Villa" -- which is literally a house in the Botanical Gardens which is painted yellow. Thank God, or I would have never found it. Also, most classes don't span the entire semester. "Gender, Social Change ..." began last week and will end in late October. My "New Europe" class begins this Wednesday and ends in December (this one does actually span the semester). "Swedish Social Policy" doesn't begin until early October and will end mid-November! As for my Swedish class, I don't know how long it will be. But I'm guessing that I'll have Swedish 3 for the first half of the semester, and then bump up to Swedish 4 in the second half. It's quite an interesting system.
There is also an ancient and proud tradition of "akademiska kvart" here in Sweden. It's actually only practiced at the older universities, and by that I mean, only Lund and Uppsala do it. It translates to the "academic quarter-hour." Broken down, it pretty much means that if a class is scheduled to begin at 2:00pm, nobody expects you to show up until 2:15pm. That's when the professor will come and if you come earlier (i.e. on time) you're going to be sitting around and waiting. So far I keep forgetting about it. It's an interesting system in a land which is so concerned with timeliness. Honestly, if you invite a Swede over to your house for dinner at 7pm. He will not arrive at 6:59pm nor will he arrive at 7:01pm. He will be there at 7 on the dot, barring catastrophe and even then ... it's questionable as to whether he still might be on time. So this policy of constantly be 15-minutes late is a bit questionable to me, but so far I've experienced it twice (I arrived on time, only to wait for 15 minutes for everyone else). I should explain to my Swedish friends how it works in California -- if a professor is 15 minutes late in California, you just leave -- expect class to be cancelled, the prof. is not showing up. What an interesting difference.
I've also learned the secret to attaining Swedish friends -- drinking. You don't have to get rip-roaring drunk with them and share your darkest secrets to be friends. But I've found that Swedes are very shy and reserved -- until they have a beer in their hands, and then you are instant friends. They don't even have to have drunk any of that beer. But I think the feeling of the glass (or metal can) in their hands that makes them instantly confidant and friendly.
In these same situations, I've learned that Swedes are not very good dancers. Lund has a system of "nations" which are student social groups. The closest thing in comparison in America would be the Greek system of fraternities and sororities. But the nations aren't tied up in homo-erotic paddling and hazing. They're just groups of students, both male and female, who like to get together and organize events. They serve cheap dinners made by student volunteers each night, they have "clubs" where there's good music and cheap beer (and bad Swedish dancers), they have "sittnings" which are 3-course meals where you dress up in a theme and have a lot of fun singing and eating and drinking. (I've also noticed that Swedes sing a LOT!) I haven't joined a nation yet, I'm still weighing my options, but I wish that UCLA would adopt the same system and get rid of fraternities and sororities altogether.
Well, as I continue with my classes and learn new things about Sweden, I will certainly slow down long enough to share what I've learned. Wish me luck!
Here's some Swedish for you to learn:
dansa -- dance
köns -- gender
öl -- beer
klubb -- night club
måndag, tisdag, onsdag, torsdag, fredag, lördag, sonndag -- the days of the week (MTWTFSS)
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Firenze and Venezia
What a feeling to be back home and well-rested again. It certainly felt like a blessing to be back in my own room, sleeping nights in my own bed, and showering in my own shower -- where I didn't need to worry about sleep-sheets and shower sandals and weird hostel-mates smoking in the bathroom in the middle of the night! (That happened to us in Sorrento, actually, at the end of our trip) So I think once more I have regained the strength to begin to relate this tale, this awesome adventure which I am lucky enough to have taken. Really, I think I have to count myself among one of the most blessed people in the world, because I don't know a lot of people who have had this opportunity to travel around Italy (and indeed Europe in the next few months) like I have now.
Lauren and I stayed in Lucca for only two days after my arrival. Nanda's house is actually in the neighboring small town of Guamo, so I rented a bike from her neighbors one day and we biked into Lucca to check out the ancient Roman soldier-colony. There is a wall surrounding the old city, only about 4km around, so we biked that first and took a good stock of the city. Very quaint and adorable, I think, and it was my first taste of Italy. I think I was already in love. I had my first taste of gelato that day also, but I didn't think it was very good. I was hoping that it would get better, or else realize that the hype had made it into something that it was not. We left early in the morning on Friday, 8 August, for Florence (Firenze). That's also the day that the Beijing Olympics began. We tried very hard during our trip to watch some of the Olympics, but we really didn't see much of it and it really is unfortunate that the Olympics coincided (im)perfectly with my backpacking trip. They were over by the time I was traveling home again.
Florence from the train station was a disappointment, as I think is every city. Rick Steves (our perpetual tour guide) warned in his book that the train station was full of pickpockets -- so, green tourists as we were, we held tight to our bags and purses, strapped our money belts tight, and walked out into the wonder of Florence. By God it was beautiful! We walked across the river Arno to our hostel, thankfully they had rooms for us. This good luck was to follow us our entire trip.
Florence was teeming with tourists, street-vendors with carts full of cashmere scarves and "designer" purses, japanese tour groups, and asian weddings (for whatever strange reason). We went to the Central Market (Mercato Centrale) and bought some fruit, bread, and cheese. For just two or three euro each, we had food for two meals and snacks -- and we ate like kings. What can beat fresh bread and delicious local pecorino cheese? And peaches so ripe and delicious that the juice runs down your fingers and chin? I don't think we could have been any happier sitting at a three-course meal in a fancy restaurant. We felt like we were living the real Italy, like jeering locals surrounded by those "idiot-tourists."
We did a mad tour of the museums that Florence had to offer as well, and there are a lot. We went to the Accademia and saw Michelangelo's David. At first I didn't get all the hype. Here's this giant guy, supposedly the Dav
id but he looks more like Goliath, and he doesn't look life-like. He just looks like a white statue. He's not going to turn his head and look at you. He's a freaking statue. I was hopping mad that I had to pay 10 euros to see this statue that really did turn out to just be a statue. But I looked a little closer and, like everything, you start to notice details -- the rib cage, the muscles about his abdomen and hips, the way that his calves are flexed from his stance (yes, this is what made me really admire Michelangelo's skills -- the calves were just so real and perfect, my mom will understand how funny this is, calves that Megan could be jealous of!). I managed to snatch a bench at a good angle for us to sit at and admire him for a while. I was still mad about the 10 euros though, even if it was a brilliant statue. So I took a picture, which was technically illegal. Do you see Lauren's hand fan blocking me? I think it turned out pretty well, actually, and it was worth 10 euros!!!
We also went to the Uffizi Gallery, which was astonishing. My favorite was the Botticelli room, which had both La Primavera and the Birth of Venus. If you leaned in close, you could actually see the brush strokes. I don't think I really appreciated art until that day. There was also a marvellous view of Florence from the top floor of the Uffizi and it made for a wonderful picture, also on my flickr page. I made it my mission while in Florence to see "all four Ninja Turtles" as I put it -- Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, Raphael, and Donatello. In the Uffizi that day I saw Leonardo, Michaelangelo, and Raphael. The next day we went to the Bargello, which is a statue museum, and saw Donatello's David, which seems to me a more perfect representation of the David anyway. Oh, also something to note -- Michelangelo's David has an over-developed right hand, which is supposed to symbolize the Renaissance, but it's just really freaky. And he needed to clip his toenails. Seriously. But Donatello's David was bronze and small, apparently it was the first male nude to be sculpted in a thousand years -- very influential.
Florence was beautiful, but I was glad to leave when we did. We had spent a few of our nights out on the town also, but we always seemed to run across the same band on the Ponte Vecchio playing the same old tired songs. All in all, I think Florence was Lauren's city and I was ready to move on to Venice, the ancestral home of my family.
We ended up having to pay 15 euro to make reservations on the train to Venice, but it was only for standing room -- there weren't any seats left. I won't complain about how it's Lauren's fault because she didn't see the little "R" in the travel book meaning that we needed to make reservations. No, I will not be bitter, despite the fact that it was a frustrating 4 hour train ride with no seats. But whatever.
We were finally in Venice! This time, there was no disappointment from the train station. you stepped right off the steps of the train station and into a piazza on the Grand Canal, right smack into the decadent splendor of Venezia herself. And the best part was, all you could smell was tourists -- the canals had no odor whatsoever. I was very much relieved! Our luck continued as we arrived at our hostel and sealed the deal on the last two beds for the next few nights.
I wish that we had more time to spend in Venice, it was really beautiful. It is just like you see in all the movies and the pictures -- singing gondolieri rowing their sleek black boats through narrow canals, tall buildings dripping with Byzantine and Moorish architecture, and impossibly narrow alleyways. Saint Mark's Square (Piazzo San Marco) was a bit dull by day, that's the place where all the stupid tourists let all the pigeons collect on their shoulders and arms and hands. Absolutely disgusting, if you ask me. Italian pigeons are lucky if they have even a few of their toes left, and they all look really diseased. Worse than normal pigeons, I think, and that's pretty bad. But at night San Marco was absolutely stunning, each cafe had a band, like a string quartet, that dueled with the other bands in the square. So every night was full of music. In the end, we weren't able to go into Saint Mark's Cathedral, but we did go into La Salute, a cathedral built in thanks to God for delivering the Venetians from the Black Plague. We also took a vaporetto ride (bus-boats) down the Grand Canal, and we cheated the expensive gondola ride (80 euro for 40 minutes!) by taking a cheap traghetto (50 cents) across the canal. So technically we were in a gondola boat, but it was only for 2 minutes or so! It was a lot of fun and infinitely cheaper.
Venezia is an interesting place. It was crowded with tourists, because we were there in August of course. But it is beautiful in a sad sort of way. You can see how the place would have been glorious and bustling a few hundred years ago. But now you can see the decaying decadence, the abandoned first floors which are regularly flooded and mossed over. Who knows how much longer Venice will stand as beautiful as it is now -- maybe the next time I am in Piazza San Marco, I will be standing ankle-deep in water. But I hope it will not be that long.
Some Italian for you to learn:
Piazza -- square
Vaporetto -- public transportation boat
Molto buona -- very good (as in food)
Museo -- museum
Augusto -- august
Lauren and I stayed in Lucca for only two days after my arrival. Nanda's house is actually in the neighboring small town of Guamo, so I rented a bike from her neighbors one day and we biked into Lucca to check out the ancient Roman soldier-colony. There is a wall surrounding the old city, only about 4km around, so we biked that first and took a good stock of the city. Very quaint and adorable, I think, and it was my first taste of Italy. I think I was already in love. I had my first taste of gelato that day also, but I didn't think it was very good. I was hoping that it would get better, or else realize that the hype had made it into something that it was not. We left early in the morning on Friday, 8 August, for Florence (Firenze). That's also the day that the Beijing Olympics began. We tried very hard during our trip to watch some of the Olympics, but we really didn't see much of it and it really is unfortunate that the Olympics coincided (im)perfectly with my backpacking trip. They were over by the time I was traveling home again.
Florence from the train station was a disappointment, as I think is every city. Rick Steves (our perpetual tour guide) warned in his book that the train station was full of pickpockets -- so, green tourists as we were, we held tight to our bags and purses, strapped our money belts tight, and walked out into the wonder of Florence. By God it was beautiful! We walked across the river Arno to our hostel, thankfully they had rooms for us. This good luck was to follow us our entire trip.
Florence was teeming with tourists, street-vendors with carts full of cashmere scarves and "designer" purses, japanese tour groups, and asian weddings (for whatever strange reason). We went to the Central Market (Mercato Centrale) and bought some fruit, bread, and cheese. For just two or three euro each, we had food for two meals and snacks -- and we ate like kings. What can beat fresh bread and delicious local pecorino cheese? And peaches so ripe and delicious that the juice runs down your fingers and chin? I don't think we could have been any happier sitting at a three-course meal in a fancy restaurant. We felt like we were living the real Italy, like jeering locals surrounded by those "idiot-tourists."
We did a mad tour of the museums that Florence had to offer as well, and there are a lot. We went to the Accademia and saw Michelangelo's David. At first I didn't get all the hype. Here's this giant guy, supposedly the Dav
id but he looks more like Goliath, and he doesn't look life-like. He just looks like a white statue. He's not going to turn his head and look at you. He's a freaking statue. I was hopping mad that I had to pay 10 euros to see this statue that really did turn out to just be a statue. But I looked a little closer and, like everything, you start to notice details -- the rib cage, the muscles about his abdomen and hips, the way that his calves are flexed from his stance (yes, this is what made me really admire Michelangelo's skills -- the calves were just so real and perfect, my mom will understand how funny this is, calves that Megan could be jealous of!). I managed to snatch a bench at a good angle for us to sit at and admire him for a while. I was still mad about the 10 euros though, even if it was a brilliant statue. So I took a picture, which was technically illegal. Do you see Lauren's hand fan blocking me? I think it turned out pretty well, actually, and it was worth 10 euros!!!We also went to the Uffizi Gallery, which was astonishing. My favorite was the Botticelli room, which had both La Primavera and the Birth of Venus. If you leaned in close, you could actually see the brush strokes. I don't think I really appreciated art until that day. There was also a marvellous view of Florence from the top floor of the Uffizi and it made for a wonderful picture, also on my flickr page. I made it my mission while in Florence to see "all four Ninja Turtles" as I put it -- Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, Raphael, and Donatello. In the Uffizi that day I saw Leonardo, Michaelangelo, and Raphael. The next day we went to the Bargello, which is a statue museum, and saw Donatello's David, which seems to me a more perfect representation of the David anyway. Oh, also something to note -- Michelangelo's David has an over-developed right hand, which is supposed to symbolize the Renaissance, but it's just really freaky. And he needed to clip his toenails. Seriously. But Donatello's David was bronze and small, apparently it was the first male nude to be sculpted in a thousand years -- very influential.
Florence was beautiful, but I was glad to leave when we did. We had spent a few of our nights out on the town also, but we always seemed to run across the same band on the Ponte Vecchio playing the same old tired songs. All in all, I think Florence was Lauren's city and I was ready to move on to Venice, the ancestral home of my family.
We ended up having to pay 15 euro to make reservations on the train to Venice, but it was only for standing room -- there weren't any seats left. I won't complain about how it's Lauren's fault because she didn't see the little "R" in the travel book meaning that we needed to make reservations. No, I will not be bitter, despite the fact that it was a frustrating 4 hour train ride with no seats. But whatever.
We were finally in Venice! This time, there was no disappointment from the train station. you stepped right off the steps of the train station and into a piazza on the Grand Canal, right smack into the decadent splendor of Venezia herself. And the best part was, all you could smell was tourists -- the canals had no odor whatsoever. I was very much relieved! Our luck continued as we arrived at our hostel and sealed the deal on the last two beds for the next few nights.
I wish that we had more time to spend in Venice, it was really beautiful. It is just like you see in all the movies and the pictures -- singing gondolieri rowing their sleek black boats through narrow canals, tall buildings dripping with Byzantine and Moorish architecture, and impossibly narrow alleyways. Saint Mark's Square (Piazzo San Marco) was a bit dull by day, that's the place where all the stupid tourists let all the pigeons collect on their shoulders and arms and hands. Absolutely disgusting, if you ask me. Italian pigeons are lucky if they have even a few of their toes left, and they all look really diseased. Worse than normal pigeons, I think, and that's pretty bad. But at night San Marco was absolutely stunning, each cafe had a band, like a string quartet, that dueled with the other bands in the square. So every night was full of music. In the end, we weren't able to go into Saint Mark's Cathedral, but we did go into La Salute, a cathedral built in thanks to God for delivering the Venetians from the Black Plague. We also took a vaporetto ride (bus-boats) down the Grand Canal, and we cheated the expensive gondola ride (80 euro for 40 minutes!) by taking a cheap traghetto (50 cents) across the canal. So technically we were in a gondola boat, but it was only for 2 minutes or so! It was a lot of fun and infinitely cheaper.
Venezia is an interesting place. It was crowded with tourists, because we were there in August of course. But it is beautiful in a sad sort of way. You can see how the place would have been glorious and bustling a few hundred years ago. But now you can see the decaying decadence, the abandoned first floors which are regularly flooded and mossed over. Who knows how much longer Venice will stand as beautiful as it is now -- maybe the next time I am in Piazza San Marco, I will be standing ankle-deep in water. But I hope it will not be that long.
Some Italian for you to learn:
Piazza -- square
Vaporetto -- public transportation boat
Molto buona -- very good (as in food)
Museo -- museum
Augusto -- august
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Oh, Back to School ...
My whirlwind trip of Europe (well, mostly just Italy with a little bit of Germany thrown in), is over. It was the most amazing, fantastic, beautiful, tiring, frustrating, and enjoyable month of my life. Well, just over three weeks. It will take me a long time to describe the things that I saw to you all, even if I just write a bulleted "laundry-list" of the sights that I went to (which, of course, I don't want to do!).
I started on August 1st and took an overnight train to Berlin. I had a few hours in Berlin so I went about 200 meters from the train station and happened upon the Reichstag, and another 100m and I was at the Brandenburger Tor! I was thinking about walking further down and seeing what's left of Die Mauer (the Wall), but it was pouring and I was already soaked. I had packed for Italy, i.e. I wasn't prepared for rain, so I decided to hop onto the next train to Göttingen and meet my friend Mona there. The train was smooth and uneventful -- German trains are as smooth and efficient as Swedish trains are, even more so actually, and I didn't know yet that I should really appreciate the efficiency of the Germans!
It turned out that the phone number I had for Mona wasn't working, so I was stranded at the train station in Göttingen, but at least the sun was off and I finished drying off (after a two hour train ride I was still wet from Berlin!). Thankfully, she called me about 10 minutes later to tell me she had a different phone number, and to call her on that one when I was in Göttingen -- but I told her I was already there! I had a fantastic time in Göttingen with her, and we also went to visit her parents in her hometown of Clausthal, which is in the Harz Mountains. We also went to Goslar, which was an important medieval trading city. It's totally preserved from the middle ages and was very cute, but I could tell that Mona and her sister were bored with it. Sort of like me when I take people to Old Sacramento -- it's boring for me but interesting for a first-timer! So I was loving it, but they were less than thrilled! Oh well!
I left Germany on the 5th and went south to München, where I had a few hours layover so I walked over to the Marielplatz and tourist-watched (my new favorite activity). I took another night train through Brenner Pass (I was very sad that I couldn't see the Alps because it was night-time), and arrived in Florence the next morning. I took a quick train over to Lucca, and I was finally there!!
Nanda's house is amazing. I think it is anybody's dream to have this cute little Italian lady cooking extravagant meals for you all the time. My first meal there was a lunch, which I thought would have been no big deal, but it turned out to be a five-course affair, finishing with cheese, fruit, and dessert. I could probably go on for ages talking about Nanda's meals. Even though I am glad to be back home in Sweden, I really miss Nanda already (and my stomach misses her more, I think!) It was just such a warm and happy place to be -- life revolved around the kitchen. I don't think I ever saw the rest of the house! We would sit there for 2 hours each meal at least, not counting the time we sat in there talking while Nanda was cooking! I really loved Nanda and her husband Caesare -- they are just such welcoming and warm people, I am thinking already when I can go back to visit! I think I have adopted them as my stand-in Italian grandparents!
There is certainly more to say, but I have some errands to run in Lund, since I have just returned yesterday there is a lot to do! But at least now you have some taste of what I have been up to -- and believe me, the adventure has just begun!
Here is some German for you to learn:
Bergen -- mountains
Zug -- train
Hauptbahnhof -- main train station
Here is some Italian for you to learn:
Buon giorno -- hello/good day
Molto bene -- very good!
I started on August 1st and took an overnight train to Berlin. I had a few hours in Berlin so I went about 200 meters from the train station and happened upon the Reichstag, and another 100m and I was at the Brandenburger Tor! I was thinking about walking further down and seeing what's left of Die Mauer (the Wall), but it was pouring and I was already soaked. I had packed for Italy, i.e. I wasn't prepared for rain, so I decided to hop onto the next train to Göttingen and meet my friend Mona there. The train was smooth and uneventful -- German trains are as smooth and efficient as Swedish trains are, even more so actually, and I didn't know yet that I should really appreciate the efficiency of the Germans!
It turned out that the phone number I had for Mona wasn't working, so I was stranded at the train station in Göttingen, but at least the sun was off and I finished drying off (after a two hour train ride I was still wet from Berlin!). Thankfully, she called me about 10 minutes later to tell me she had a different phone number, and to call her on that one when I was in Göttingen -- but I told her I was already there! I had a fantastic time in Göttingen with her, and we also went to visit her parents in her hometown of Clausthal, which is in the Harz Mountains. We also went to Goslar, which was an important medieval trading city. It's totally preserved from the middle ages and was very cute, but I could tell that Mona and her sister were bored with it. Sort of like me when I take people to Old Sacramento -- it's boring for me but interesting for a first-timer! So I was loving it, but they were less than thrilled! Oh well!
I left Germany on the 5th and went south to München, where I had a few hours layover so I walked over to the Marielplatz and tourist-watched (my new favorite activity). I took another night train through Brenner Pass (I was very sad that I couldn't see the Alps because it was night-time), and arrived in Florence the next morning. I took a quick train over to Lucca, and I was finally there!!
Nanda's house is amazing. I think it is anybody's dream to have this cute little Italian lady cooking extravagant meals for you all the time. My first meal there was a lunch, which I thought would have been no big deal, but it turned out to be a five-course affair, finishing with cheese, fruit, and dessert. I could probably go on for ages talking about Nanda's meals. Even though I am glad to be back home in Sweden, I really miss Nanda already (and my stomach misses her more, I think!) It was just such a warm and happy place to be -- life revolved around the kitchen. I don't think I ever saw the rest of the house! We would sit there for 2 hours each meal at least, not counting the time we sat in there talking while Nanda was cooking! I really loved Nanda and her husband Caesare -- they are just such welcoming and warm people, I am thinking already when I can go back to visit! I think I have adopted them as my stand-in Italian grandparents!
There is certainly more to say, but I have some errands to run in Lund, since I have just returned yesterday there is a lot to do! But at least now you have some taste of what I have been up to -- and believe me, the adventure has just begun!
Here is some German for you to learn:
Bergen -- mountains
Zug -- train
Hauptbahnhof -- main train station
Here is some Italian for you to learn:
Buon giorno -- hello/good day
Molto bene -- very good!
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Thus it begins
So I am finally off -- leaving the sanctuary of Scandinavia and really getting into what Europe has to offer to me!
Tomorrow I will be leaving for Germany and will arrive in Berlin on Saturday morning! From there I will continue on to Göttingen to visit meine freundinnen Mona and Dani. After a few days, I will continue south to Lucca, Italia, where I will meet up with Lauren at Nanda's house. We will stay in Lucca a few days and then continue throughout Italy. Here is the itinerary:
Lucca
Florence (Firenze)
Venice (Venezia)
The 5 Lands (Cinque Terre)
Rome (Roma)
Naples (Napoli)
and we might also make it out to the island of Capri and Sorrento, south of Naples on the Amalfi coast.
Unfortunately I will have limited internet access. I will update as I can, but please do not expect anything until late August! Even pictures will be hard to upload from the road, but expect an onslaught of information and pictures as soon as I am back in Sverige!!
Tomorrow I will be leaving for Germany and will arrive in Berlin on Saturday morning! From there I will continue on to Göttingen to visit meine freundinnen Mona and Dani. After a few days, I will continue south to Lucca, Italia, where I will meet up with Lauren at Nanda's house. We will stay in Lucca a few days and then continue throughout Italy. Here is the itinerary:
Lucca
Florence (Firenze)
Venice (Venezia)
The 5 Lands (Cinque Terre)
Rome (Roma)
Naples (Napoli)
and we might also make it out to the island of Capri and Sorrento, south of Naples on the Amalfi coast.
Unfortunately I will have limited internet access. I will update as I can, but please do not expect anything until late August! Even pictures will be hard to upload from the road, but expect an onslaught of information and pictures as soon as I am back in Sverige!!
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Swedes In Real Life
So I feel I need to get a couple of things straight about Swedes -- a little anthropology in what has pretty much been a travel-only blog. Let me talk about life in Sweden.
I realized how very Swedish I was a few days ago -- and have re-recognized this every other hour since. When I am biking to class in the morning, and in ten minutes I pass hundreds of quaint houses and monumental university buildings (to put UCLA in the dust), I realize that I am living as a Swede. When I am in the supermarket and have only bought a few things (which still costs $30-$50), and therefore must return in a day or two, I realize that I am living Swedish. When I pass an advertisement and can actually read it, I feel Swedish. When I pass an advertisement and it's in English, still (oddly) I feel Swedish -- for the sheer fact that English has invaded this pristine culture like influenza. Well, maybe not invaded and maybe it wasn't pristine. But it certainly is no fun when you're trying to practice your Swedish and the cashier will only respond to you in English!
But here's the thing about Swedes:
They are very polite, and yet very rude. There is no word for "please" in Swedish, and there is no need. Even to say "thank you" marks you a foreigner (I refuse, despite this, to not say "thank you" -- it's just wrong to me, a well-raised American!). Swedes are not overtly friendly -- will not immediately befriend you and show you around town like a Chicagoan would. And yet they are very nice, they will always help a tourist, no matter how American they appear!, and will always provide a word of Swedish when you ask for it (it's how I learned how to say shampoo and conditioner!)
On the same token, Swedish girls are very conservative. While comfortable with their bodies -- at any age -- they do not mind being naked in the lake or bare-chested at the beach, still they are not as sexually loose as American movies make them out to be.
Nor do they still have that lilting accent of old Swedish ("I lahf me leetle dahter, jaaaaaa!"). Some sound more American than me! This is thanks to American television. Because there are only 9 million Swedes, it is not worth the cost to dubb or to produce Swedish-speaking television. So Oprah comes on every day at 2pm, and she speaks English with Swedish subtitles. Even in Sweden.
They are, indeed, very attractive, but only about as attractive as the average American university (but possibly not UCSB, which is the most attractive by far of Californian universities, if not all American colleges). They don't dress particularly chic (read: European), either. I see the type of sandals that my dad wears a lot -- you know, the velcro straps every which way, binding in your foot, that always leave weird tan lines on your feet. Except now it's not for dads going to the zoo with their sons and daughters -- kids, teenagers, university students, all the way to grandpas wear these shoes. It's entirely unbecoming. So far I am very disappointed in Sweden's fashion sense.
So, in the end, Swedish people are just ... well, Swedish. Their obsession for punctuality and love of schnapps is only the icing on the complex social cake. More updates on this are to come, I am sure.
Some Swedish for you to learn:
supermarknad -- supermarket (ICA is a popular store)
tack -- thank you
tack så mycket -- thanks a lot (so far, I have only heard my American friends say this)
engelska -- english
Svenskarna är svensk -- Swedes are Swedish
I realized how very Swedish I was a few days ago -- and have re-recognized this every other hour since. When I am biking to class in the morning, and in ten minutes I pass hundreds of quaint houses and monumental university buildings (to put UCLA in the dust), I realize that I am living as a Swede. When I am in the supermarket and have only bought a few things (which still costs $30-$50), and therefore must return in a day or two, I realize that I am living Swedish. When I pass an advertisement and can actually read it, I feel Swedish. When I pass an advertisement and it's in English, still (oddly) I feel Swedish -- for the sheer fact that English has invaded this pristine culture like influenza. Well, maybe not invaded and maybe it wasn't pristine. But it certainly is no fun when you're trying to practice your Swedish and the cashier will only respond to you in English!
But here's the thing about Swedes:
They are very polite, and yet very rude. There is no word for "please" in Swedish, and there is no need. Even to say "thank you" marks you a foreigner (I refuse, despite this, to not say "thank you" -- it's just wrong to me, a well-raised American!). Swedes are not overtly friendly -- will not immediately befriend you and show you around town like a Chicagoan would. And yet they are very nice, they will always help a tourist, no matter how American they appear!, and will always provide a word of Swedish when you ask for it (it's how I learned how to say shampoo and conditioner!)
On the same token, Swedish girls are very conservative. While comfortable with their bodies -- at any age -- they do not mind being naked in the lake or bare-chested at the beach, still they are not as sexually loose as American movies make them out to be.
Nor do they still have that lilting accent of old Swedish ("I lahf me leetle dahter, jaaaaaa!"). Some sound more American than me! This is thanks to American television. Because there are only 9 million Swedes, it is not worth the cost to dubb or to produce Swedish-speaking television. So Oprah comes on every day at 2pm, and she speaks English with Swedish subtitles. Even in Sweden.
They are, indeed, very attractive, but only about as attractive as the average American university (but possibly not UCSB, which is the most attractive by far of Californian universities, if not all American colleges). They don't dress particularly chic (read: European), either. I see the type of sandals that my dad wears a lot -- you know, the velcro straps every which way, binding in your foot, that always leave weird tan lines on your feet. Except now it's not for dads going to the zoo with their sons and daughters -- kids, teenagers, university students, all the way to grandpas wear these shoes. It's entirely unbecoming. So far I am very disappointed in Sweden's fashion sense.
So, in the end, Swedish people are just ... well, Swedish. Their obsession for punctuality and love of schnapps is only the icing on the complex social cake. More updates on this are to come, I am sure.
Some Swedish for you to learn:
supermarknad -- supermarket (ICA is a popular store)
tack -- thank you
tack så mycket -- thanks a lot (so far, I have only heard my American friends say this)
engelska -- english
Svenskarna är svensk -- Swedes are Swedish
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Glimmingehus och Ales Stenar
I really must apologize, this blog is frustrating me a little bit. I feel as though my posts are lengthy and too cumbersome for my friends and family to read all the way through. And yet, I feel as though I am not really saying anything -- not painting a strong enough picture of my life here in Sverige, not detailing my stories -- or, indeed, skipping stories altogether. It is not fair to me because I want so much to tell you all, and it is not fair to you because you deserve so much more than this blog has provided. I am not sure how to remedy this situation without writing even longer posts. Please let me know what you think.
Today my class (now twice it's original size, thanks to the reinforcements of Russian and Chinese students), went on a field trip to Österlens, which contains the well preserved medieval fortress of Glimmengehus, and then on to the coast where we saw Kåseberga and Ales Stenar, the Swedish version of Stone Henge. It was a lovely drive, from the west coast of Sweden where Lund lies to the southeast coast of Sweden where the stones of Ales Stenar have stood for thousands of years. I have noticed one thing about the Swedish countryside, with its beautiful farmhouses and perfect Swedish rows of strawberries and wheat -- there is also the steeple of a church within sight. Across the rolling hills of Skåne, you can always find one of these outdated throwbacks to the time when Sweden was strictly Lutheran. Now, of course, Swedes are areligious -- more unconcerned than atheistic. They enjoy their Swedish nature and their knäckenbröd, and that is that.
Glimmengehus was my first castle. Of course, I have seen other castles, especially when I was in København, but this is the first one that I have gone inside of and gotten a proper tour of. And, of course, it is not really a castle but the house of a knight who needed a fortress to defend himself against the unhappy peasants which he taxed relentlessly -- a little Robin Hood-esque, don't you see? It was very impressive, strong stone and oak, surrounded by a moat. Our tour-guide, dressed in medieval finery (he had really cool shoes), even pointed out the various death traps which the builders put in place to surprise trespassers. The most fascinating bit was that all of the exterior and interior was original to 1499 when the fortress was built by Sir Jens Holgersens Ulfstand. So many ancient things now have been remodeled and retouched in order to "look like original" but the sheer fact that it had been messed with lends a sort of disappointment to viewing such monuments. This was definitely a sight to see!
After an unsuccessful attempt to find a bathroom with handsoap so that I could wash my hands (for some reason the medieval just seems so dirty to me!), we all got back onto our tourist buses and trekked over to Kåseberga, a small seaside fishing village which lies beside the ancient site of Ales Stenar. We stopped in Kåseberga and sampled the local delicacy -- smoked salmon and herring. I did, indeed, try some and it was very delicious! I even have pictures to prove it!
We hoofed our way up the hill to see Ales Stenar, with the monumental background of the sea. Ales Stenar is a construction of 60 stones, each about the height of a person, which is set in the shape of a ship, with keystones at each end. Archaeologists used to think that it was a viking burial ground, since other ship formations denoted viking burials in other areas. But Ales Stenar has a more remarkable purpose -- it was used to mark the midsummer and the winter solstice, as the sun would rise on which respective day precisely behind one of the keystones. It was tough to get good pictures of Ales Stenar because it was absolutely inundated with tourists. Some idiot tour-guide had actually led his group into the middle of the structure (which is a probably 60-100 meters long) and they all stood there like idiots for 20 minutes while he talked. It absolutely ruined everyone's pictures.
Actually, I had a hard time all day with people ruining my pictures. There I was, camera out in front of my face, eyes intent on an object, knees bent, shoulders rolled back, ready to snap -- and one of the Russian students would walk right in front of me so instead of taking a picture of the ancient chest of Jens Holgersens' wife, I took a picture of some Russian girls legs. How rude! Or I would be trying to take a picture of Ales Stenar, and some obnoxious tourist would walk right in front of me and stand there, entirely unaware of me about to take a picture, and refuse to get out of my shot! As much as I love traveling so far, I hate being a tourist. And I definitely hate other tourists! If only it weren't tourist season right now, maybe I would have gorgeous pictures of Ales Stenar and Glimmengehus, but alas, I have not.
For now I am exhausted, absolutely in need of a nap. I will keep you informed of my adventures, but I think that tomorrow I will sleep in late and clean my room. Quite the Swedish adventure!
Some Swedish for you to learn:
Stenar -- rocks
Sverige -- Sweden
Ryssland -- Russia
Kina -- China
Sill -- herring
Lax -- salmon
och -- and
Today my class (now twice it's original size, thanks to the reinforcements of Russian and Chinese students), went on a field trip to Österlens, which contains the well preserved medieval fortress of Glimmengehus, and then on to the coast where we saw Kåseberga and Ales Stenar, the Swedish version of Stone Henge. It was a lovely drive, from the west coast of Sweden where Lund lies to the southeast coast of Sweden where the stones of Ales Stenar have stood for thousands of years. I have noticed one thing about the Swedish countryside, with its beautiful farmhouses and perfect Swedish rows of strawberries and wheat -- there is also the steeple of a church within sight. Across the rolling hills of Skåne, you can always find one of these outdated throwbacks to the time when Sweden was strictly Lutheran. Now, of course, Swedes are areligious -- more unconcerned than atheistic. They enjoy their Swedish nature and their knäckenbröd, and that is that.
Glimmengehus was my first castle. Of course, I have seen other castles, especially when I was in København, but this is the first one that I have gone inside of and gotten a proper tour of. And, of course, it is not really a castle but the house of a knight who needed a fortress to defend himself against the unhappy peasants which he taxed relentlessly -- a little Robin Hood-esque, don't you see? It was very impressive, strong stone and oak, surrounded by a moat. Our tour-guide, dressed in medieval finery (he had really cool shoes), even pointed out the various death traps which the builders put in place to surprise trespassers. The most fascinating bit was that all of the exterior and interior was original to 1499 when the fortress was built by Sir Jens Holgersens Ulfstand. So many ancient things now have been remodeled and retouched in order to "look like original" but the sheer fact that it had been messed with lends a sort of disappointment to viewing such monuments. This was definitely a sight to see!
After an unsuccessful attempt to find a bathroom with handsoap so that I could wash my hands (for some reason the medieval just seems so dirty to me!), we all got back onto our tourist buses and trekked over to Kåseberga, a small seaside fishing village which lies beside the ancient site of Ales Stenar. We stopped in Kåseberga and sampled the local delicacy -- smoked salmon and herring. I did, indeed, try some and it was very delicious! I even have pictures to prove it!
We hoofed our way up the hill to see Ales Stenar, with the monumental background of the sea. Ales Stenar is a construction of 60 stones, each about the height of a person, which is set in the shape of a ship, with keystones at each end. Archaeologists used to think that it was a viking burial ground, since other ship formations denoted viking burials in other areas. But Ales Stenar has a more remarkable purpose -- it was used to mark the midsummer and the winter solstice, as the sun would rise on which respective day precisely behind one of the keystones. It was tough to get good pictures of Ales Stenar because it was absolutely inundated with tourists. Some idiot tour-guide had actually led his group into the middle of the structure (which is a probably 60-100 meters long) and they all stood there like idiots for 20 minutes while he talked. It absolutely ruined everyone's pictures.
Actually, I had a hard time all day with people ruining my pictures. There I was, camera out in front of my face, eyes intent on an object, knees bent, shoulders rolled back, ready to snap -- and one of the Russian students would walk right in front of me so instead of taking a picture of the ancient chest of Jens Holgersens' wife, I took a picture of some Russian girls legs. How rude! Or I would be trying to take a picture of Ales Stenar, and some obnoxious tourist would walk right in front of me and stand there, entirely unaware of me about to take a picture, and refuse to get out of my shot! As much as I love traveling so far, I hate being a tourist. And I definitely hate other tourists! If only it weren't tourist season right now, maybe I would have gorgeous pictures of Ales Stenar and Glimmengehus, but alas, I have not.
For now I am exhausted, absolutely in need of a nap. I will keep you informed of my adventures, but I think that tomorrow I will sleep in late and clean my room. Quite the Swedish adventure!
Some Swedish for you to learn:
Stenar -- rocks
Sverige -- Sweden
Ryssland -- Russia
Kina -- China
Sill -- herring
Lax -- salmon
och -- and
Sunday, July 13, 2008
København
Wow.
I went to Copenhagen this weekend with a few other American friends that I study with in Lund. It was absolutely astonishing. It is such a vibrant and colorful city, so very different from the quiet summertime daze of Lund. We left Friday afternoon after our first Swedish final -- I am now in Swedish 2! The trip to CPH is less than an hour.
We spent most of Friday and Saturday wandering around the city, taking in the sites and the smells (the canal is pretty rank, actually) and the people. I think we lived the Danish life for a few days. Every now and then we would spot at a particularly scenic spot and have a fika (a Swedish word, sort of like a coffee-break but more drawn-out and social) or a glass of good Danish beer, or a small snack. On Friday we went to the main square, the City Hall, the Danish Opera, and the Stadparken (city park). We watched the sunset over the canal.
Saturday we saw the Little Mermaid. She looks just like she does in all the pictures. Apparently, she's lost her head a few times. Lastly and most famously, a feminist group cut off her head with a chainsaw because they were upset that she was bare-breasted. Then they left the head in a 7-11 for authorities to find and reattach. Weird. We also went to Hans Christian Andersen's grave, the man who made the Mermaid famous in his fairy-tales. He is buried in the same cemetery as Søren Kirkegård, the philosopher who I have come to love as Johann Di'Silencio. It was actually sort of sad to walk around the Copenhagen cemetery, because a lot of the graves had been tagged. I heard that a group of hippy-artists had taken over a house near the cemetery as squatters and had used it as their artistic/hippy base for many years. The government finally kicked them out of the house, though, because it as actually government-owned. The hippies rioted, however, and went into the cemetery and tagged a bunch of the gravestones, including Hans Christian Andersen's.
Most graves had 666 scrawled across them, along with an upside-down cross. Others were even less inventive -- poor Carl Poller's grave was tagged with "er død" (is dead). They scrawled "Dansk Kultur" across HC Andersen's. It is a reminder of the audacity of the present generation -- that our problems are more important than protecting the remnants of history. I was shocked walking around Copenhagen to see that so many monuments had graffiti on them. I mean, I understand that Denmark, like Sweden, had a large graffiti culture right now and it's an artistic mark on the world (Swedish graffiti I mean, much unlike the tagging in America). But so many monuments are just destroyed by someone who wrote "It's graffiti!" in spray-paint. That can't be removed. They've ruined a piece of history that we'll never get back. Just for a laugh. It's just very sad.
We also saw the palace of the Danish royal family (no luck on meeting cute princes!) and wandered along the canal for a bit. It seems that Danes, Swedes, and Germans are pretty serious about their sailboats!
We were going to go op to Helsingør/Helsingborg (the site of the castle where Shakespeare placed Hamlet) this weekend also, but we realized that our class is going there in two weeks, so we will wait and go with the rest of the class later.
As always, check out my flickr page to see some of my photos! And if you ever get the chance, go to Copenhagen! There is a large purple tree in the Stadparken which is great for shade on warm sunny summer days!
Hejdå! (good-bye)
Some Swedish for your to learn
Kopenhamn -- Copenhagen
Öresundtåg -- "Ear-sound" Train (it connects Copenhagen to Malmö across the Öresund)
Slott -- castle
fika -- to have coffee and a snack with friends, a social gathering
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Svenska Fajitas!
So I've just finished making and eating my first batch of Swedish fajitas. They're like normal fajitas, but made in Sweden ... !! They turned out pretty nicely, though the fajita mix here is a bit too spicy for me. Odd, seeing as in anything else in Sweden it is near impossible to get a good amount of spice.
But cooking here in Sweden is different, and I thought that I would dedicate a post to the odd things that the Europeans have decided to do differently from us (or that we have decided to do differently from the Europeans, I can't tell which yet). First, the stove. It is not an electric stove with wire coils, nor is it a gas stove. I will only guess that it is electric, but consists of thick metal discs set into the white stove top, whose knobs do not go lo-hi but rather from 1-5 or 1-12, depending on which burner you are using. The oven is also different, but I haven't used it yet. It seems unnecessarily small.
I have also noticed the street lights are different. Green means go and red means stop, but yellow AND red lit up at the same time mean get ready to go. Just yellow means get ready to stop. There are also separate lights for the bike paths and for pedestrians. Sometimes, the bike path totally separates from the road itself and veers off on its own course and direction, beneath tunnels and alongside horse farms, etc. There seem to be many more bikes than cars in Lund. The town has a lot of squares, and each square it seems is filled with at least 200 bicycles each. The large square by the train station must be in the thousands.
Washing machines are quite opposite. You have to sign up for a time here, since the Swedes are so concerned with orderliness and timeliness. You can only use the machines during your time slot, then you must swipe in, load your clothes (again, into an unnecessarily small washer), choose what type of detergent you want (oh yes, it's provided), and press start. If you only press start for a few seconds, the machine will only go 25 minutes. If you hold it longer, the machine will run up to 72 minutes. Though I can't imagine why. And yes, it's free. Drool all you want, UCLA, who spend $5 at a time to do laundry ... read this and weep!
Supermarkets make no sense here. Sure, they group some of the bread together, but for some reason other types of bread are clear across the store. There are hardly any frozen vegetables, by nearly 50 types of frozen meatballs. Cheese isn't sliced -- apparently, that's an American thing. I sort of appreciate sliced cheese. Thankfully, the bread is sliced.
Well, I will leave it at that. I am sure to update later. Here is some Swedish for you to learn:
limpa - bread
ost - cheese
tvätta - to wash
kläder - clothes
But cooking here in Sweden is different, and I thought that I would dedicate a post to the odd things that the Europeans have decided to do differently from us (or that we have decided to do differently from the Europeans, I can't tell which yet). First, the stove. It is not an electric stove with wire coils, nor is it a gas stove. I will only guess that it is electric, but consists of thick metal discs set into the white stove top, whose knobs do not go lo-hi but rather from 1-5 or 1-12, depending on which burner you are using. The oven is also different, but I haven't used it yet. It seems unnecessarily small.
I have also noticed the street lights are different. Green means go and red means stop, but yellow AND red lit up at the same time mean get ready to go. Just yellow means get ready to stop. There are also separate lights for the bike paths and for pedestrians. Sometimes, the bike path totally separates from the road itself and veers off on its own course and direction, beneath tunnels and alongside horse farms, etc. There seem to be many more bikes than cars in Lund. The town has a lot of squares, and each square it seems is filled with at least 200 bicycles each. The large square by the train station must be in the thousands.
Washing machines are quite opposite. You have to sign up for a time here, since the Swedes are so concerned with orderliness and timeliness. You can only use the machines during your time slot, then you must swipe in, load your clothes (again, into an unnecessarily small washer), choose what type of detergent you want (oh yes, it's provided), and press start. If you only press start for a few seconds, the machine will only go 25 minutes. If you hold it longer, the machine will run up to 72 minutes. Though I can't imagine why. And yes, it's free. Drool all you want, UCLA, who spend $5 at a time to do laundry ... read this and weep!
Supermarkets make no sense here. Sure, they group some of the bread together, but for some reason other types of bread are clear across the store. There are hardly any frozen vegetables, by nearly 50 types of frozen meatballs. Cheese isn't sliced -- apparently, that's an American thing. I sort of appreciate sliced cheese. Thankfully, the bread is sliced.
Well, I will leave it at that. I am sure to update later. Here is some Swedish for you to learn:
limpa - bread
ost - cheese
tvätta - to wash
kläder - clothes
Saturday, June 28, 2008
The Island of Ven
Today we went to the island of Ven. It was the most amazing day of my life. I never knew that places like this existed in the world, except on postcards. I truly was an experience of a lifetime. We left Lund around 9am and took a bus up to Landskrona, about halfway between Lund and Göteborg, and then took a ferry across the water 15 minutes until we landed at Ven. It's a small island, you could bike the perimeter in an hour if you were really trying to bike it quickly. I, for one, was definitely not trying to go fast!
Myself and the other enormous crowd of Americans that I seem to always be traveling with landed at Ven around 11am. Our program had rented us all bikes for the day to ride around the island, which ended up being the most perfect experience. Half of the group, myself included, took a tour of the Tycho Brahe museum. Tycho Brahe was a Danish astronomer who lived in Ven (back when it as still a territory of the Danish crown), and conducted his experiments for the majority of his adult, academic life. We went down into his underground observatory and saw some of the instruments he had used. It was badly narrated, by a terrible recording that made Tycho sound more scary than intelligent and ponderous. I'll never forget the recording did make one comment on the "evils of men" and that is why it is good to "live on an island." Other than that, the tour was pretty boring. I have no real interest in Tycho Brahe, but it was fun to hear the history of the island.
After we finished our tour, I headed off on my bike to see the island. We headed up to a church first, with a small cemetery, which lay on a high hill on the coast. It gave us a good vantage point and it was a gorgeous view. By this time the clouds had parted and the sun was shining down on us again (for perhaps the 3rd time since I've been in Sweden). We ate lunch at the harbor below after a little bit of exploring. Michael bought a plate of smoked salmon, salad, and bread for 60:- which is about $10. He let me try a bit of his salmon (hey, when in Rome, right?) and it was delicious! I can't remember fish ever tasting so good, but I think I am going to be a bit more adventurous and begin trying some meat-products and possibly some lok (salmon paste special to Sweden) while I am here in Europe. Otherwise, I would have missed out on that picturesque experience:
There we were: American travelers sitting at a bench in one of Ven's beautiful harbors, looking out at the ocean, savoring the breeze and the sun, and eating the local salmon. It was haute culture for 10 bucks.
After we ate, Michael and I took off by ourselves (we don't like to be surrounded by the huge groups of American tourist-students), and went on our own little adventure. We biked the perimeter of most of the island and it was absolutely to die for. The quaint little homes, the wind waving through the wheat, the sounds of seabirds, and the smell of salt. It was a postcard magically transformed into real life.
Michael also speaks German, so for the most part we spoke in German, because I felt it was just too perfect, too European, to speak plain American English. There we were, peddling along on our bright yellow bikes, taking dirt baths along the coast, stopping every now and then to walk the beach. We kept looking for areas where we could stick our feet into the water, but there were jellyfish everywhere!
The whole experience was awesome -- perfect. Untainted. I am sure that had we gone along with the huge group of people that I would not have had the same experience. It no longer would have been a quiet bike ride along the coastline, but a noisy and annoying trip to and from cafes and toilets.
So now that I am travel-wise, I have this advice for you: when you are traveling -- get away from the other tourists! Experience the country for yourself (especially by yourself or with a VERY small group). You will gain so much more.
Here is some Swedish for you to learn:
ö - island
cykla - bicycle
tyska - german
Myself and the other enormous crowd of Americans that I seem to always be traveling with landed at Ven around 11am. Our program had rented us all bikes for the day to ride around the island, which ended up being the most perfect experience. Half of the group, myself included, took a tour of the Tycho Brahe museum. Tycho Brahe was a Danish astronomer who lived in Ven (back when it as still a territory of the Danish crown), and conducted his experiments for the majority of his adult, academic life. We went down into his underground observatory and saw some of the instruments he had used. It was badly narrated, by a terrible recording that made Tycho sound more scary than intelligent and ponderous. I'll never forget the recording did make one comment on the "evils of men" and that is why it is good to "live on an island." Other than that, the tour was pretty boring. I have no real interest in Tycho Brahe, but it was fun to hear the history of the island.
After we finished our tour, I headed off on my bike to see the island. We headed up to a church first, with a small cemetery, which lay on a high hill on the coast. It gave us a good vantage point and it was a gorgeous view. By this time the clouds had parted and the sun was shining down on us again (for perhaps the 3rd time since I've been in Sweden). We ate lunch at the harbor below after a little bit of exploring. Michael bought a plate of smoked salmon, salad, and bread for 60:- which is about $10. He let me try a bit of his salmon (hey, when in Rome, right?) and it was delicious! I can't remember fish ever tasting so good, but I think I am going to be a bit more adventurous and begin trying some meat-products and possibly some lok (salmon paste special to Sweden) while I am here in Europe. Otherwise, I would have missed out on that picturesque experience:
There we were: American travelers sitting at a bench in one of Ven's beautiful harbors, looking out at the ocean, savoring the breeze and the sun, and eating the local salmon. It was haute culture for 10 bucks.
After we ate, Michael and I took off by ourselves (we don't like to be surrounded by the huge groups of American tourist-students), and went on our own little adventure. We biked the perimeter of most of the island and it was absolutely to die for. The quaint little homes, the wind waving through the wheat, the sounds of seabirds, and the smell of salt. It was a postcard magically transformed into real life.
Michael also speaks German, so for the most part we spoke in German, because I felt it was just too perfect, too European, to speak plain American English. There we were, peddling along on our bright yellow bikes, taking dirt baths along the coast, stopping every now and then to walk the beach. We kept looking for areas where we could stick our feet into the water, but there were jellyfish everywhere!
The whole experience was awesome -- perfect. Untainted. I am sure that had we gone along with the huge group of people that I would not have had the same experience. It no longer would have been a quiet bike ride along the coastline, but a noisy and annoying trip to and from cafes and toilets.
So now that I am travel-wise, I have this advice for you: when you are traveling -- get away from the other tourists! Experience the country for yourself (especially by yourself or with a VERY small group). You will gain so much more.
Here is some Swedish for you to learn:
ö - island
cykla - bicycle
tyska - german
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Finally!
(Originally written 23.06.2008 - 15:30 CEST, but delayed due to internet troubles)
Hej (hi),
So, here I am. Finally in Sweden, after what seems like an eternity of prep and build up and packing. And honestly … it was worth it. Before I landed it Copenhagen, it didn’t feel like I was actually going to Europe, or to live in Sweden. It just felt like vacation — a really long flight to Chicago, and the old and familiar would be on the other end waiting for me. Even the fact that the Scandinavian Air flight I was on was only speaking in Swedish and German (with very little English), it still hadn’t emotionally dawned on me that I was going to Europe. Not for vacation, but to live for 6 months.
That all changed when I landed in Copenhagen and it was a busy airport, with weird people, weird signs, an odd language, and even weirder phones. It took me a while to figure out the payphones in order to call my mom — I had to beg one of the workers to help me, but then he says, “Oh, I don’t know how to call America …” I ended up punching in any variation of +1 (0001, 001, 0001-1-916...) but it wasn’t working. Finally 001 worked, without the 1 preceding the area code. So I have now learned to call internationally. One point for Michelle.
Then I tried to get a train ticket to Lund (which is about a 30 minute train from airport to Lund train station). But the train was broken down in Malmö, so there were no trains running. One point for Europe. So I waited. Still no train. So they provided buses for us. And I learned another thing — Europeans are not very nice. I got shoved out of the way for three successive buses. Finally, I elbowed and kicked my way onto one bus and was finally on my way to the Malmö station. I also learned that speaking German has its benefits. While trying to elbow and push my way onto a bus, I was saying “Excuse me.” This was apparently a mistake since no one was moving or letting me pass (actually, I was rather thinking they were trying to get in my way). So I switched to German — “entschuldigung” and “entshuldigen Sie mir” parted the crowds like a hot knife through butter. So here I have found an important fact: when in doubt, speak German. Two points for Michelle.
Once at the Malmö train station, however, I ran into more problems. The train was late coming into the station. Things are SUPPOSED to be on time in Sweden, it’s the Swedish way, but this train was over 15 minutes late and I ended up waiting there for an hour until the train finally came and took me to the Lund station. Two points: Europe.
I will never forget my first sight of Lund. Malmö I was less impressed with, but once I saw the architecture and sheer quaintness of Lund, I think I fell in love. I thought: despite the terrible day I’ve had traveling, this is worth it.
Then I couldn’t find the hostel. Three points: Europe. I was dragging my luggage along cobble-stone streets (I know, so cute, but I didn’t really care that much at the moment), trying to find the train-hostel which nobody seemed to know what it was or where it was located. Dripping with sweat and about to break into tears, I finally found it with the help of some young Swedes who read my desperation. Three points: Me.
Once I entered the hostel, I kid you not, three other UC-EAP students came up to me and introduced themselves and invited me to explore the city with them. So I checked in, dragged my bags through the narrow hallways of the train to my small compartment, and took off into Lund with my three new friends. All I can say is that it was perfect and scenic and quaint. Just too utterly beautiful to describe, because there is no American counterpart to compare it to. We just wandered down some running/bike paths with gorgeous foliage on each side and just happened upon ancient monuments and modern cottages side by side.
So even though I didn’t get any sleep on the 9-hour red-eye from Seattle to Copenhagen, even though the train system was broken and my entire plans topsy-turvy, even though it took me 5 hours to get the 40 miles from Copenhagen to Lund, I still think I won in the end. Because here I am. I’ve survived. Perhaps the worse the beginning, the better the trip. Like bad weddings are tells for successful marriages.
Monday morning I was able to check into my program and get my dorm room, which is AMAZING. I will post pictures as soon as I can. I don’t currently have internet, which seems to be the next way in which Europe is trying to defeat me, but it will not! I am writing this now on a Word document and will post as soon as I get access to the web.
Anyway, my room has its own bathroom with shower, a huge closet, a small entry-way, a spacious room larger than my bedroom at home, beautiful light wood floors, Ikea-furniture, and a lounge chair. The previous occupant(s) left some things for me too, like floor and desk lamps, cute posters for the wall (one gorgeous one of Sardinia, Greece), and some bedding. I’m a bit shady on the bedding, I’m still thinking a trip to the Ikea in Malmö is in order. I still need bowls and silverware and stuff. Speaking of, the kitchen is also very nice. Two stove tops, two ovens, all the equipment you could use, microwave, coffee-maker, hot water boiler, etc. I’m impressed. And it’s clean (considering)!
Well, more later. I will post this as soon as I can, and check flickr for pictures (www.flickr.com/photos/michelle), I will be posting the ones that I’ve taken so far of Lunds Univeritet and Domkyrken. I also have some nice aerial shots of Seattle, which I thought was beautiful beyond belief.
Here’s some Swedish for you to learn:
Förlat (I’m sorry (for bumping into you))
Hej (hi),
So, here I am. Finally in Sweden, after what seems like an eternity of prep and build up and packing. And honestly … it was worth it. Before I landed it Copenhagen, it didn’t feel like I was actually going to Europe, or to live in Sweden. It just felt like vacation — a really long flight to Chicago, and the old and familiar would be on the other end waiting for me. Even the fact that the Scandinavian Air flight I was on was only speaking in Swedish and German (with very little English), it still hadn’t emotionally dawned on me that I was going to Europe. Not for vacation, but to live for 6 months.
That all changed when I landed in Copenhagen and it was a busy airport, with weird people, weird signs, an odd language, and even weirder phones. It took me a while to figure out the payphones in order to call my mom — I had to beg one of the workers to help me, but then he says, “Oh, I don’t know how to call America …” I ended up punching in any variation of +1 (0001, 001, 0001-1-916...) but it wasn’t working. Finally 001 worked, without the 1 preceding the area code. So I have now learned to call internationally. One point for Michelle.
Then I tried to get a train ticket to Lund (which is about a 30 minute train from airport to Lund train station). But the train was broken down in Malmö, so there were no trains running. One point for Europe. So I waited. Still no train. So they provided buses for us. And I learned another thing — Europeans are not very nice. I got shoved out of the way for three successive buses. Finally, I elbowed and kicked my way onto one bus and was finally on my way to the Malmö station. I also learned that speaking German has its benefits. While trying to elbow and push my way onto a bus, I was saying “Excuse me.” This was apparently a mistake since no one was moving or letting me pass (actually, I was rather thinking they were trying to get in my way). So I switched to German — “entschuldigung” and “entshuldigen Sie mir” parted the crowds like a hot knife through butter. So here I have found an important fact: when in doubt, speak German. Two points for Michelle.
Once at the Malmö train station, however, I ran into more problems. The train was late coming into the station. Things are SUPPOSED to be on time in Sweden, it’s the Swedish way, but this train was over 15 minutes late and I ended up waiting there for an hour until the train finally came and took me to the Lund station. Two points: Europe.
I will never forget my first sight of Lund. Malmö I was less impressed with, but once I saw the architecture and sheer quaintness of Lund, I think I fell in love. I thought: despite the terrible day I’ve had traveling, this is worth it.
Then I couldn’t find the hostel. Three points: Europe. I was dragging my luggage along cobble-stone streets (I know, so cute, but I didn’t really care that much at the moment), trying to find the train-hostel which nobody seemed to know what it was or where it was located. Dripping with sweat and about to break into tears, I finally found it with the help of some young Swedes who read my desperation. Three points: Me.
Once I entered the hostel, I kid you not, three other UC-EAP students came up to me and introduced themselves and invited me to explore the city with them. So I checked in, dragged my bags through the narrow hallways of the train to my small compartment, and took off into Lund with my three new friends. All I can say is that it was perfect and scenic and quaint. Just too utterly beautiful to describe, because there is no American counterpart to compare it to. We just wandered down some running/bike paths with gorgeous foliage on each side and just happened upon ancient monuments and modern cottages side by side.
So even though I didn’t get any sleep on the 9-hour red-eye from Seattle to Copenhagen, even though the train system was broken and my entire plans topsy-turvy, even though it took me 5 hours to get the 40 miles from Copenhagen to Lund, I still think I won in the end. Because here I am. I’ve survived. Perhaps the worse the beginning, the better the trip. Like bad weddings are tells for successful marriages.
Monday morning I was able to check into my program and get my dorm room, which is AMAZING. I will post pictures as soon as I can. I don’t currently have internet, which seems to be the next way in which Europe is trying to defeat me, but it will not! I am writing this now on a Word document and will post as soon as I get access to the web.
Anyway, my room has its own bathroom with shower, a huge closet, a small entry-way, a spacious room larger than my bedroom at home, beautiful light wood floors, Ikea-furniture, and a lounge chair. The previous occupant(s) left some things for me too, like floor and desk lamps, cute posters for the wall (one gorgeous one of Sardinia, Greece), and some bedding. I’m a bit shady on the bedding, I’m still thinking a trip to the Ikea in Malmö is in order. I still need bowls and silverware and stuff. Speaking of, the kitchen is also very nice. Two stove tops, two ovens, all the equipment you could use, microwave, coffee-maker, hot water boiler, etc. I’m impressed. And it’s clean (considering)!
Well, more later. I will post this as soon as I can, and check flickr for pictures (www.flickr.com/photos/michelle), I will be posting the ones that I’ve taken so far of Lunds Univeritet and Domkyrken. I also have some nice aerial shots of Seattle, which I thought was beautiful beyond belief.
Here’s some Swedish for you to learn:
Förlat (I’m sorry (for bumping into you))
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