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September 01, 2004
Project Complete
Let me see, where should I start? Today I was up at 7 a.m. and out the door by 8 a.m. We had class in our usual classroom on the main campus, and once again our work centered around small group work. But since we were tasked with completing a report by 4 p.m., there was a least a sense of purpose in our actions. Being the proactive person that I am, I volunteered to be on the "editorial staff" designated to compile all the small group reports and generate the final version. Of course, this meant I stayed on campus all afternoon, and fought with the group of people who came to hash out the editing process. It was mentally and emotionally draining to deal with so many passionate people (especially those who couldn't seem to stick to the deadlines!). In the end, we managed to send in the final report at 4:06 p.m., and I think everyone was satisfied with the document.
I didn't get back to the apartment until 4:30 p.m, which gave me only a few minutes to relax, dry off (more rain today), and check my phone messages (more on that debacle later) before turning around and going back out again. Roya and I walked a couple blocks over to meet our neighbors for dinner. They were hosting a Kungsmarksvägen dinner for all the SLS students in the complex. We walked down to the Willy:s together and bought food for a vegetable stir fry. (I also managed to pick up some additional groceries for myself—the refrigerator was a barren wasteland.) Upon our return, there was fish chowder and salad waiting for us. The 10 of us happily ate the first courses while a couple of the other girls chopped, steamed, and stir-fried a wide-ranging combination of vegetables (mushrooms, eggplant, bell peppers, leek, etc.) Tomomi even made a Japanese sauce with soy sauce, ginger, and garlic. It was delicious. In fact, the whole dinner was great, as I got to talk with some people I hadn't really met before. We decided that we should make the dinner party a weekly event.
After chatting for a couple hours, Roya and I came back to the apartment, where I now sit typing this entry. I'm exhausted, and disappointed to see that there are no new beds waiting for us. Apparently, the date of arrival has been pushed back to Thursday, Friday, or possibly Monday. On a related note, complaints about the overall lack of support for international students have now reached the vice chancellor (the top guy) at the university. I certainly hope he can step in and make things happen—there are still people sleeping on the floor after more than a week of being here. While I try to be sympathetic about how difficult it must be to accommodate double the number of lack year's international students, BTH should really only accept as many students as they can reasonably accommodate. Should things not improve dramatically this week, I may be adding my voice to the clamor at the vice chancellor's office. So there!
And now, onto a little topic I like to call "Jennifer's Stalker".
Oh yes, what I initially thought was a friendly exchange between me and an Iraqi man has rapidly turned into gratuitous unwanted attention. In the last few days, I have received over a dozen calls (finally, my habit of leaving my mobile phone at home pays off!) and half a dozen text messages from Adam, a man I described in a previous post.
Initially I was invited out for dinner (alarm bells went off since it seemed there were romantic intonations—but nothing obvious enough to confront head-on). I thought I would give it a chance, since there was a possibility that this guy was just being friendly and I really would enjoy hearing an Iraqi's point of view on the world situation. Unfortunately, I couldn't make it on Tuesday night, so we agreed that he would call me later in the week to find another time. Then my phone ran out of pre-paid minutes, so I couldn't make any outgoing calls or text messages (although I can continue to receive them).
Since then, I have consistently (although unintentionally) missed Adam's calls, and have been unable to call him back or reply to his text messages. And the text messages have gotten increasingly desperate. They range from "I want to see you as soon as possible" to "I am worried about you" to "I am really worried about you, please text me as soon as possible." Sigh. It's only been two days, and we've only met once—it's not like I'm a close friend who has disappeared off the face of the earth.
Long story short, I am going to buy another pre-paid phone card tomorrow, at which point I will text him back and kindly explain that he has made me uncomfortable and I would rather not meet him at any point in the future. It will be a delicate operation, but I've had enough. It's just creepy.
While I'm sure he is harmless, I've been thinking about how easy stalking a person could be in Karlskrona—especially in Kungsmarksvägen when your key works for all the entryways of your building, and my name and apartment number are plastered in my entryway. Additionally, since I have no curtains, it would be super-easy to look in on me (even now as I sit right by the window at the desk). And we have a rather large mail slot with a swinging hinge, so it's possible to see into our apartments even if it's locked. (All of this information will be useful when I decide to start a little stalking of me own!)
Funnily enough, I got this email from my friend in Oslo today, in response to my previous post about Adam:
Watch out for the handsome Middle Eastern men. Just be smart about it. There are many who came to Norway and Sweden as refugees/asylees and would much rather be in an English-speaking country where the spirit of capitalism is still quite alive and kicking, i.e., the U.S., and don't mind getting married to do it...
Oh, how prophetic those words appear to be!
*Note to Mom and Dad: please don't freak out—I'm exaggerating this story for dramatic effect.
**Note to Other Readers: I'm not exaggerating, it's totally weird.
Ok, enough about that. I'm exhausted and so happy that my classes don't start until 10:15 a.m. tomorrow. If it stops raining, my goal is to get up at 7 a.m. (to keep a good schedule, you know), have a leisurely morning, and go downtown to pay my rent and complain about the apartment—all before heading to class. Or, I might just get up at 8 a.m. That's still reasonable, right? What about 9 a.m.?
