June 07, 2006
Internet Search Terms
In the past 5 days, 106 search terms have resulted in visits to Write Again Soon. Demonstrating the breadth of topics covered on this blog, dear reader, here are my favorite:
-- young hippopotaumus
-- may 7 1937 bear a striking resemblance to those of the disaster-ridden autumn of 2001. on that day the new york times cried
-- wrestlemania 16 entrance themes
-- i hate my thesis
-- why does my kitten meow while i take a shower
-- 1 2-benzenedicarboxylic pesticide perfume
-- a paragraph about a cat named serafina
-- brazilian and mexican lalita ladies for marriage
-- 2006 email contacts of sheep farm companies
And my personal favorite: getting rid of child vomiting smells out of furniture.
Posted by madchen at 12:10 AM | Comments (0)March 02, 2006
Swenglish
So I'm trying to figure out this new alumni webpage for my Swedish degree. I think I've entered in the right information so far, but now I'm stuck on the following paragraph:
Om du vill kan du anmäla andra medlemmar som kontakter. Genom att anmäla andra medlemmar som kontakter så får du ett meddelande när någon av dina kontakter uppdaterar sina uppgifter. När du är klar klickar du på Nästa för att avsluta guiden.
I've tried a couple Swedish-to-English web translators (there aren't so many out there--go figure), and here are my options:
-- If you want to can you to report other members as contacts. Through reporting other members as contacts so sheep you a message when some of your contacts updates their information. When you are clear clicks you on next in order to complete the guide.
-- If you will tin you report second members as contacting. Per that report second members as contacting so sheep yous one message when any of dina contacting am dedicating sina duties. When yous is clear click yous on Next for that conclude guide.
Ideas? Something about a sheep, and "sina" duties...I guess.
Oh dear, I think I may just have emailed the whole alumni network...or else deleted myself from the registration. It's hard to tell. Now I'm wishing I knew more than hello and goodbye.
Posted by madchen at 12:08 AM | Comments (2)August 22, 2005
Missing Sweden
May 28, 2005
Hey da!
This will be my final entry from Sweden. Although I would like to write a long and heartfelt description of my last time downtown (ahh, Wayne's, I hardly knew ye) this afternoon, my last class (complete with thesis presentations--yawn), and my last game of Texas Hold 'Em with the Swedes next door (I won 105 SEK!!), I just don't have the time.
I would also like to write a little bit about my job search. To make a long story short, I am still waiting to hear about the job in Takoma Park, MD. After harassing them for a week straight, I finally discovered yesterday that the reason the executive director wasn't calling me back was that she was busy getting married this weekend. She'll be back in the office on Wednesday, and should get back to me sometime in the next week or so. The position is still open, and she received my "strategy proposal" for the position, but hasn't had time to look at it yet.
Instead, I have approximately 28 hours to finish packing all of my stuff for D.C., start packing my stuff for Turkey, clean up the kitchen, make a dish for the potluck tomorrow night, finish my laundry, and finish formatting my thesis.
Speaking of the thesis, can I reiterate (if I haven't already) HOW MUCH THE FORMATTING SUCKS? I'm only on page 30 of our 80+ page paper and I'm up to footnote 76. Actually, because the school has decided to go with some stupid "move all the footnotes to endnotes, but don't actually make them endnotes, but instead manually enter brackets around each number and call them references" format, I (and I assume many of my classmates) will be spending many an hour in front of the computer, alternately sobbing and screaming obscenities at the screen. I don't know why they don't just go with the traditional Chicago Manual of Style (which at least takes into consideration the wonderful advances in AUTOMATIC numbering)--but no, BTH has to do it a little differently. Sigh.
Tomorrow will be my last full day in Karlskrona. Sunday morning Roya and I will go to Copenhagen and spent the night there. Then Monday morning I'll hop on the plane to sunny Istanbul. Given that I was dying of the heat today (it reached 70 degrees for the first time this year), I am sure to spontaneously burst into flames when I step off the plane in Turkey.
Since we're heading for some of the rural regions of Turkey, I will be pretty much incommunicado until June 20, when I arrive back home in D.C. I'll be sure and post all my pictures on the blog, so check back in at the end of the month.
In the meantime, may I point you to the 287 posts from this past year? You can relive the fun of my first two weeks in Sweden (when everything that could go wrong did--including dead birds on the balcony, no furniture, etc.), my experience with the graduate program, my adventures in Amsterdam, Poland, Latvia, Lithuania, Estonia, Finland, Norway, Austria, Mexico, Belize, and Honduras--although not in that order, and various other delightful commentary.
And with that, I'm off to bed. There's a full day of formatting tomorrow. See you on the other side!
Posted by madchen at 02:51 AM | Comments (4)May 24, 2005
The Devil Among Us
Roya and I spent hours and hours cleaning the apartment in preparation for our exit inspection. At the last minute, Jess came home and helped out too. By this afternoon at 3 p.m. we were all exhausted, but the apartment had never looked nicer. We had been prepped by other students’ stories about the inspection process. Karlskronahem is supposedly VERY strict when it comes to cleanliness. Susan told us that the inspector actually swept for dust at the top of doorways.
We were determined not to get caught up in a costly dispute, so we had rallied all of our resources and were ready (if nervous) when the Kungsmarken caretaker arrived promptly to begin the inspection. Imagine our surprise when he strolled in, took a 20 second look at my room, and signed the paper acknowledging it was clean. He didn’t look at the windows I had so carefully cleaned (inside and out), nor the kitchen floor I had mopped three times (because we kept leaving footprints), nor the bathroom tiles I had so scrupulously scrubbed this morning. Nope—he just gave a genial wave of his hand and pronounced us “ok”.
Anyway, to get to the main part of my story…Part of the cleaning process involved placing items (my bike, the kitchen table, and the rugs) outside on the balcony to expose the floors for the aforementioned mopping). As I have mentioned before, the pigeons of Kungsmarksvägen are a rowdy bunch, and are particularly fond of perching on the balconies. Today I found myself shooing the birds away every 10 minutes, only to turn around and find that the stupid things had returned. Don’t they know how I loathe them? Don’t they know that I will always shoo them away—especially when they are threatening to poop all over our belongings? Don’t they know that pigeons die on our balcony?
I was momentarily distracted by the inspector, and then afterwards had to take my bike downtown to the bike shop, where it will be boxed up so I can mail it home on Thursday. (It was quite a nostalgic ride to the city center, knowing that it was the last time I would ride that particular path.) By the time I dropped off the bike, stopped at the bookstore to get a book for the trip to Turkey, ran to the grocery store, and took the bus back home, I had mostly forgotten about the pigeons. As I was putting away the groceries, Roya gently mentioned that she had figured out why the pigeons were so persistent today. Apparently, one of them had nested in the main carpet (which had been left lying in a heap on the balcony) and laid an egg.
I nearly had a heart attack. Thank goodness I only have to live here for 4 more days—I don’t think I could survive long-term in an apartment with a pigeon growing into it. That’s like asking a Baptist preacher to allow an abortionist to set up shop in the parking lot.
But, being the magnanimous person that I am (hold your sarcasm, please), I agreed to Roya’s pleas that we not immediately throw the nest over the side of the balcony. Moreover, I even committed to allowing the devil spawn to proceed breeding without interruption. I even took this picture so that the world can marvel at my generosity. See the evil glint in the mommy bird’s eye? I have only this to say to her:
You may have won this battle, but the war has only just begun.
May 16, 2005
4 p.m. at Wayne's Coffee
One of my favorite places in Karlskrona is Wayne's Coffee. At Borgmästaregatan 20, the cafe sits on a main corner of town. It's a great place to "people watch". The town's only club "Kino" is directly across the street, so there is usually a flurry of tour busses, roadies, and performers strolling around--usually with a look on their faces that say "how did we end up in this podunk town?"
On the other side of the street is the bevy of clothing stores, so there is always a trail of teenagers giddy with their new purchased wandering the streets. The style here seems to be a revival of 80s punk with a Scandinavian flair. Because the weather hasn't warmed up, yet summer fashion is in the stores, there is a strange mix of miniskirts and thick quilted jackets, always complemented with a scarf wrapped tightly around the neck.
Inside Wayne's is another scene. First of all, the cafe is child-friendly, and there is usually a gaggle of young mothers (sporting the miniskirt-jacket combo) with their gigantic strollers (in Sweden, the closest thing to a Hummer is the 4-wheel strollers everyone pushes about) pushed into a corner. Between the dozen or so babies, these mothers (all looking about 20 years old) giggle and down coffee by the gallon. Decaf, I presume? Occasionally a father comes in, and it's hard to believe that these adolescent-looking boys could have procreated in such numbers. The official word is that Sweden has a dearth of babies, and to maintain adequate population levels the Swedish government has given scandalous benefits to new mothers. I have a feeling that the small-town mentality of Karlskrona, where it must seem that all your friends have given birth by the time they've hit 21, has something to do with the baby boom too.
As far away as humanly possible from the baby scene lurks the international students. I have never been to Wayne's without running into someone from my program. Wayne's is one of the only places with wireless internet access, and so it's a natural draw for the graduate students. In exchange for absurdly expensive fare, we are welcome to stay for hours--an offer we accept all too often.
The best time to be at Wayne's is on Saturday mornings, before the farmers market gets going a couple of blocks away. There is a calm that belies the coming storm, as every family in Karlskrona will put in an appearance for brunch. Good luck finding a seat if you arrive after 11 a.m. on a Saturday, and good luck being able to hear your companions over the dull roar of the crowd. Yet, if you manage to stick it out, the masses begin to slip away at 1 p.m. and by the early afternoon it seems that the rush for coffee was just a dream.
Right now, I'm sitting against the wall with one of the myriad silk pillows cushioning my head against the plum-colored wall. I'm supposed to be working on my thesis (Ronan is finishing up the PowerPoint presentation at the table next to mine), but I just can't seem to focus. I'd rather watch the people around me. To my immediate right (just past Ronan), there is a couple that I hope is a father and daughter. She can't be more than 15, at the very most, and OH MY GOD SHE JUST CARESSED HIS HEAD. I feel like I should call the police, but because I can't understand the language, I'm reluctant to make a fuss. I've alerted Ronan to the scandal, but he doesn't seem concerned.
Next to this couple is another pair--I'm guessing from Kino. They both speak English, and are dressed in too much black leather to belong here. She has orange hair and a nose ring, and he has a green t-shirt that is so snug I can make out the shape of his nipples--not that I was looking, of course. She seems unhappy with him, and he has the patient look of a much put-upon boyfriend.
To my left is a group of men with British accents, people I don't think I've ever seen before. I'm curious where they come from, and how they ended up in Karlskrona, but I won't interrupt their conversation. Instead, I'll sip my coffee and pretend to do some work.
I'm starting to feel the pressure (only 14 days until I leave this town forever) of finishing my thesis, revising the textbook, and packing everything. I managed to mail my box home today, for a mere 760 SEK (that's about $115), but I have a feeling that my trip to the post office will be the high point of productivity in my day. The weather is drizzly and the gray sky always makes me lethargic. And with the days creeping by with ominous regularity, I find myself more apt to dawdle over silly things that I want to remember than buckle down and produce silly reports.
Posted by madchen at 04:16 PM | Comments (1)May 11, 2005
Thunderstorm
One second it was beautiful--blue skies and white puffy clouds. The next second, the clouds had turned menacing and had collected into a wall of rolling gray. I took this picture out my back window, right before throwing on a jacket and dashing out the front door. My hope was to make it to the corner store before the downpour.
The elevator door was just swinging shut when the electricity when out. I was incredibly fortunate not to have pushed the button, because I would have been stuck in that little hellhole of an elevator for the next 25 minutes. Instead, I was able to step out of the elevator back into the vestibule--which was also pitch black. Jess had heard my involuntary shriek when the lights went out, and opened the door to let me in (I was afraid I might fall down the steps while getting to the door).
I made it back to the balcony just in time for the skies to open up and hail to rain down on us. In a flash, the playground was a muddy swamp. Jess and I stood outside and marveled at the change in scenery.
And in a flash, it was over. Well, more like 20 minutes. And now, the sky is once again bright--although still a little cloudy.
Strange.
Posted by madchen at 01:42 PM | Comments (2)Camping
Click on the photo thumbnail to view all the pictures and commentary from my latest camping adventure on Dragso Island.
I came back exhausted and sunburned. After a hazy thesis meeting, I went home, took a shower, and collapsed into bed. After an amazing night of sleep (complete with a warm room, adequate covers, and a toilet just feet away!!) I am now ready to tackle my list of tasks:
1. Avoid burdening the Swedish welfare state with a humanitarian crisis and clean up my room, which has rapidly spiraled into a disaster zone. Specific goals include: 1) finish boxing up the package to mail home, 2) packing at least ONE suitcase so that it is ready to go to Copenhagen, and 3) clearing enough floor space so that I can walk directly from the bed to the door without having to hurdle piles of junk.
2. Avoid a starch overdose and go grocery shopping. Right now, my food supply consists of basmati rice, couscous, egg noodles, and white beans. That's all. Well, to be honest, there is a small quantity of past-expiration date juice and yogurt in the refrigerator, but that will be thrown out on the way to the grocery store.
3. Avoid a stack of lawsuits and send out the "results" chapter of my thesis for vetting by the interviewees. I was supposed to do this last week, but my thesis partner has not seen fit to provide me with a MS Word version of our rough draft.
And if all goes well, these tasks (and more!) will be completed by dinner tonight and I will have time to watch an episode of Alias with Roya.
Posted by madchen at 12:01 PM | Comments (1)May 05, 2005
I want some chocolate milk!*
I'm feeling as whiny today as I look from this picture taken a couple weeks ago. I'm not sure why I have that look on my face—was it the water, was Jenny yelling at me, was I feeling burdened by my heavy (yet delightfully blue) bag? The whole will never know.
Let me list my grievances:
1. I have HAD IT with this whole thesis project. I'm tired of working on a project that is stupid, that no one will read, and that isn't even contributing to a degree that will help me get a job. The rough draft is due tomorrow and I just want to turn it in and leave the country, being pretty sure that our rough draft is good enough to skate by.
2. While Kungsmarksvagen is definintely the ghetto of Karlskrona, we don't qualify as "mafia controlled" like some other Swedish towns.
Some small and medium-sized towns in Sweden are effectively controlled by Mafia-style gangs, a new report from the National Criminal Investigation Department to European police organisation Europol.
Swedish television company SVT reports that threats and extortion have increased tenfold in the past decade, with certain places suffering particularly from the new trend.
Södertälje, near Stockholm, is one of the towns that police say has a large organised crime problem, with protection rackets and effectively controlling the town’s pubs and bars.
Jeez, if I have to live in a ghetto, I should at least get a taste of The Sopranos, which I'm missing in this crappy apartment.
3. I have TOO MUCH STUFF. There is no way I am going to be able to get everything back to the US without either a) paying $1000 dollars in shipping, b) hiring a car to get me to the airport and paying $500 in extra baggage fees, or c) meeting my fairy godmother who will magically transport my suitcases home. And my email messages to DHL, UPS, and FedEX have not been answered, despite their promises of a 1-day turnaround. Bastards.
* The title of today's entry dates back about 10 years to when my family was living in Japan. We were invited to Admiral Fujii's home in the mountains. It was an incredible place, built right in the middle of a ski slope (or rather, the ski slope was built around it). There were several families who went, all sleeping in tight quarters in the Japanese style. One family had a small boy of about six years, who was a spoiled brat. He had brought a whole range of noisy toys, the most loathsome being a tow truck that shrilled "hook 'em up, move 'em out" over and over and over. This small boy, Michael was his name, was physically incapable of saying anything directly. Instead of saying "I'd like to play outside, please" he would sidle up to his parents and plaintively bleat the request. In 3 longs days I never heard him use another tone of voice. As annoying as everyday 6-year olds can be, just think of the added horror of constant whininess. To make it even more obnoxious, his parents never reprimanded him—they just went along with it like poor Michael had no other choice.
At first it was amusing—like a game called "What Will Michael Whine About Next?" By the second night, however, I had enough. We were all pooling food, so there were no items that belonged to me, or to Matthew. He had been drinking little boxes of chocolate milk, and there was only one left. I was sitting at the table and saw what was coming. Pre-empting him, I said to no one in particular, "I think I'll have some chocolate milk" prompting him to almost scream in horror (but still in that whiny voice) "I want some chocolate milk!" Of course, his mother couldn't take away the chocolate milk that had so clearly been claimed by me, but she also had never denied Michael anything. It was a delightful fix, watching her waver back and forth.
I can't remember how it ended—I probably relented and let that little twit have the chocolate milk. But now whenever anyone in my family gets a little whiny, someone in the room is bound to cry out "I want some chocolate milk!" in that same Michael-like voice. Or perhaps just say, "Ok, Michael." It's enough to snap anyone out of a pity party.
Posted by madchen at 07:14 PM | Comments (3)April 29, 2005
My Home Away From Home
While in some ways Sweden is among the most advanced nations on earth (18 months of paid parental leave!), sometimes you have to wonder.
From today's The Local (Sweden's News in English):
Swedish government highlights bestiality problem
Bestiality, or sex with animals, is a growing problem in Sweden and in many cases the animals suffer physical injury, according to the country's first government-commissioned study on the issue presented on Friday.
The government last year tasked the agency with determining the scope of the problem, which species are most often abused and whether the animals suffer psychologically from the abuse.
"Horses are most often subjected to violations. Even if it is difficult to assess an animal's degree of psychological suffering, it is likely that it experiences discomfort or is subjected to psychological suffering even in cases where there is no evidence of physical injury," the agency said.
Most startling of all:
Bestiality is not illegal in Sweden. A ban on the practice was lifted in 1944, along with a ban on homosexuality.
However, a person can be found guilty of cruelty to animals if prosecutors can prove that the animal suffered physical or psychological injury.
The article makes a point to say that there is no evidence that this problem is occuring with more frequency, but just that more people are reporting it. Additionally, they are quick to say that it is impossible to judge how Sweden compares to other countries, since no one else is doing extensive studies of the issue. I guess this is one more way that Sweden is advanced--no other countries are concerned with the psychological affect of bestiality on farm animals!
I need to go home. 'Cuz, ya know, America has NO history of anything sordid like this. Nope, not at all.
Photo Credit: I took this picture last fall during a weekend trip to Ystad. I hope those horses haven't been violated!
Posted by madchen at 05:43 PM | Comments (1)
April 03, 2005
Weekend Plans
Yesterday was another whirlwind of activity. I managed to get a quick nap between my book meeting at Wayne's Coffee and the class BBQ. Upon waking up, I threw some gear in my backpack and set off to Polhemsgatan, where about 20 classmates were gathered in the backyard. The yard is directly next to the water, so it's a beautiful spot. The weather was great, the food was great, the conversation was great.
Unfortunately, we had planned poorly, and Kevin, Mandy, and I had to leave rather early in order to get our kayaks from the Kayak Club. Mandy and I biked around to Lango Island and met Kevin there, where we got all suited up. I had lost one of my wool mittens on the bike ride from home to the BBQ, so I just wore my waterproof mittens (basically just an outer layer--no warmth)--big mistake. The mittens aren't really waterproof (just water-resistant) and my oar didn't have any rings to prevent the water from running directly on my hands during the upstroke. As a result, my hands were frozen solid shortly into our 4-hour trip. The scenery was beautiful (Kevin hasn't shared his photos yet, and I didn't take my camera--so I don't have anything to post), but it fell below freezing as soon as the sun went down and I spent the last hour quite uncomfortable.
The guy at the Kayak Club gave us a little lecture on the temperature of the water (right at freezing) and made Mandy and me promise that if we fell in, we would only try to get in our kayaks ONCE before swimming for the shore. Apparently, at that temperature, you can only be in the water for 30-60 seconds before you're fingers stop working. Kevin was prepared, as always, with a stove, water, tea, a sleeping bag, a towel, and other "falling in the freezing water" items. I think he was a little disappointed that neither Mandy or I tipped over--although he was great when we temporarily snagged her rudder on my line and almost tipped over.
Once we pulled back up to the Kayak Club to return our kayaks, I was frozen solid. We rendezvoused (I had to double-check that spelling) back at Mandy's, where we had a nice cup of tea. I was on my way out the door with Kevin when I saw the last bus passing by. I was planning on bussing back to Kungsmarken so that I wouldn't have to bike back with no gloves, but alas, it was not to be. Thankfully, Kevin had an extra pair of gloves that I could wear, and I even managed to find the missing glove on the bike path on my way back. In short, all's well that ends well.
This morning, I slept in. Although the current forecast says 57 degrees, I have my doubts. Nonetheless, it's another sunny day that I will take advantage of by walking down to Willy:s to get some groceries. It's looking pretty bare in the cupboards.
Tonight I'll go down to Minnerva and have a little meeting with another thesis group. They are looking to revise a sustainability policy and want some input. Lucky that I have lots of opinions!
Photo Credit: I took these pictures at Skarvfa on Friday night. The first one is the farm house we pass on the way to the bonfire site. The second picture is the view from the bonfire across the water. In the top right you can just barely see the BTH campus.
Posted by madchen at 01:59 PM | Comments (0)January 12, 2005
Small Town Pleasures
It's amazing what sensory stimulation will do for a gray existence. Once again, the weather has turned foul in Sweden, with temperatures hovering just above freezing, overcast skies, and mist that just escapes being classified as a drizzle. But there are flowerpots in my window (two bunches of fuchsia-white-marigold pansies, a pot of primroses that range from he mildest butter to raging coral, and another pot that I don't know the name of—but they are beautiful deep pink), a lemongrass candle burning on the desk, and the mingling smells of papaya, mango, peach, and lime from my shower. It's so luxurious; I almost don't mind the horrid weather that promises to ruin the remainder of the week.
I have been awake since 4 a.m., and have caught up on long-overdue email. I have been thinking about my thesis, which will be based on the paper I just finished last night (well, I finished my part, and then passed it along to my group members for their additions). At some point, I will really need to get serious about it, but for the time being, I'm just avoiding the inevitable.
I was planning on biking to town, revisiting the ATM (for the additional $$ I need to pay rent and my student union fees), and getting some exercise, but I feel thwarted by the weather. Although it's not bitterly cold outside, once you get wet (and the mist just seems to seep into your bones) you are past hope. So I think I'll hang around the apartment for awhile, listening to my newest audiobook (His Dark Materials: Book 1) and making sure I am properly moisturized (I refuse to repeat the dry, itchy skin problem of early December). Then I'll probably take a bus downtown.
Incidentally, I got an email from our program leader a few days ago (maybe a week), that I just re-read with some alarm. He indicates that we will have a long weekend on January 22-24, after our final presentations are concluded. Now, I was under the impression that once the presentations were done (thus finishing the second term), we didn't have any classes scheduled for the rest of the year. Instead, we were supposed to be working full-time on our thesis, which included some group work, but nothing involving the whole class. If this assumption is correct, then why does he need to specify that there is a long weekend? Puzzling. I hope this doesn't wreck my plans to do lots of traveling during the next six months.
---
One of the things I love about Karlskrona is its small town mentality. Even though I can't communicate with the majority of the locals, I feel quite at home here. The guys at Wayne's Coffee know that I like soy hazelnut lattes, and the receptionist at Karlskronahem definitely recognizes me every time I go in to complain. And biking downtown and back (14 km altogether—the weather turned sunny, although I still had to contend with gale force winds), I met four people from my program. It's so fun to know that every time you go out, you'll probably run into someone you know.
Posted by madchen at 03:22 PM | Comments (0)January 11, 2005
Weather Story
Major storm wreaks havoc on Sweden, Denmark
www.chinaview.cn 2005-01-11 00:35:20
STOCKHOLM, Jan. 10 (Xinhuanet) -- Hurricane strength winds whipped across Sweden and Denmark over the weekend, leaving at least 11 people dead, seven of them in Sweden, as road and rail traffic was disrupted in the deadliest storm since 1969.
The powerful storm also left more than 400,000 homes in southern Sweden without power, with 200,000 of them still dark on Monday morning.
Electricity companies Sydkraft, Vattenfall and Fortum said the power grid would not be completely repaired for a week, Radio Sweden reported on Monday.
Minister of Housing and Energy Mona Sahlin is calling for an investigation as to why Sweden is not able to handle the fallout in such situations. She is also calling for power lines to be buried underground at a faster rate.
Damage was estimated at 500 million Swedish kronor (72 million US dollars), according to insurance group Laensfoersaekringar.
In Denmark, some 16,500 homes were still without power on Monday, including 12,500 in the Copenhagen region, while damage in the entire country was estimated at one billion Danish kronor (176million US dollars).
A winter storm lashed Denmark Saturday with 100-mile-per-hour gusts and steady winds of up to 75-miles-per-hour hitting the northwest coast of Jutland. The storm caused four deaths and knocked out electric power to 100,000 homes.
Train, bus and air service was halted, bridges were closed and police asked everyone to stay indoors for their own safety because of flying debris.
Posted by madchen at 03:25 PM | Comments (0)January 10, 2005
Back Home
I'm here--after a cancelled flight, an unexpected diversion to Hamburg, missing luggage, a hurricane in Copenhagen, a night in Malmo, and a train/bus/train/bus/bus combination from Malmo to Karlskrona. My luggage (carrying all my worldly possessions) is still missing, and my computer--sans power cord--is about to die. Welcome to Sweden.
Posted by madchen at 07:26 PM | Comments (0)December 17, 2004
Scramble
I've spent the last week recovering from two presentations on Monday (which took it out of me more than I thought it would), partying at karaoke night at the Fox and Anchor, and getting ready to go home. Still halfway packed, with a sink full of dishes, and a 5:30 a.m. train to catch in the morning, I am shirking all responsibility and going out for one last night.
Posted by madchen at 07:34 PM | Comments (0)November 29, 2004
Home Again
After more than 24 hours on the bus, I am back home again. The trip was lovely, although I didn't really get much out of the rest of the educational stuff. It was mostly focused on community (hence the "eco-municipality" billing), and I'm beginning to realize I am more interested in the business side of sustainability. The real joy was spending time with my fellow students away from the classroom.
We spent Friday in a workshop with Torbjörn Lahti, author of The Natural Step for Communities, and toured a primary school with an "eco-school" emphasis. The kids were incredibly friendly, and it was really interesting to see how the school incorporates social and environmental aspects into its everyday plans. For instance, we got to see the kids have a "school meeting" where they raised and voted on issues of concern. That day's main concern was that someone was peeing on the toilet seats. After some discussion (all facilitated by the kids, aged 6-12), they voted and decided that everyone should always sit down on the toilet seat. Very amusing!
Friday night was delightful, with a delicious smorgasbord that included moose stew. Now, one of my main goals while in Sweden was to see a moose, but I decided that this didn't count. On the other hand, I can speak highly of moose as a stew base. I stayed up way too late playing cards (a vicious game of spoons that was called off after blood was drawn, hearts, and spades).
The next morning, we got back on the bus and spent the next 7 hours traveling to Ammanas, which is only 120 kilometers from the Artic Circle. On the way, we stopped at a beautiful spot, where I some of the only picture of the trip (I'm counting on the other photographers to capture the basic stuff) and spotted a group of reindeer by the side of the road. We arrived tired but happy on Saturday night and settled into a lovely hostel. Once again, the sky was clear and the moon provided enough light to cast a shadow. The temperature, having steadily fallen from when we left in the morning, was -30 degrees Celsius when we stepped off the bus, but it was dry enough that you didn't notice it so much.
That night we were served a reindeer concoction that reminded me a little of the kebab med bröd meals we get here in Karlskrona. Afterwards, I participated in a time-honored Swedish event—the sauna.
I tromped down with Lisa and Ann to join some of the other students in the sauna behind the hostel. In all, about 12 of us could comfortably fit in the sauna (one you got over the near nakedness of the others—most people were wearing just a towel), which was cranked up to stifling and damp with steam from water thrown over the coals. For once, it was fantastic to be so hot and sweaty. After about 15 minutes, as tradition dictates, you run out of the sauna and throw yourself down into the snow and roll around, then get back up and dash back into the sauna for another round. I wasn't sure I would be up for the snow-rolling adventure, but I thought "when else will I have the opportunity to roll around nearly naked in the snow on a -30 degrees night?" So I tried it and it was amazing!! In all, I did four rounds of snow-rolling—about the average for our group. The next morning I discovered that I had scraped both of my knees on the icy snow, but at the time I just noticed a little stinging (which, compared with the overall shock of plunging into the snow, was barely noticeable).
I didn't get back into the hostel until nearly midnight. After talking with the remaining group in the dining room, I headed up to bed. The next morning I skipped breakfast (ahh, sleeping in!), but joined everyone later for a little craft shopping and lunch. We piled into the bus for the LONG ride back, but enjoyed visiting a local artist and her husband first. It turns out that she's quite famous—having designed the back side of the 10 kronar coin, as well as a bunch of other coins and sculptures. We then got back in the bus and got a little tour of the town from Osvald, a Saami guy who has started his own horse-tours of the area, which I will try and convince my family to do in the summer.
Finally, a little past 4 p.m. (but what seemed like the middle of the night, since it had been dark for hours—in fact, the sun never made it above the mountain at all) we set off for the journey back to Karlskrona. Almost immediately, we saw moose—which just made my day. In fact, it was a mother moose with two calves (the calves were as big as a regular horse) by the side of the road, so we got to see the whole family.
The rest of the ride was fairly uneventful. Incidences of note include almost hitting another moose that decided to dash in front of our bus. At over 1,000 pounds, a moose could do serious damage even to our giant bus, so we were VERY thankful that we missed it. We also stopped for another car in the ditch, which had driven off the road in the snow (which went from gentle flakes to near blizzard conditions as we drove south). Other than that, it was your typical bus ride home—late night stops at fast food places, cramped attempts to sleep, movies where you only catch every other word.
At any rate, the bus generously dropped some of us off at Kungsmarksvägen at 5 p.m. Roya, Jess, and I made dinner together and then proceeded to make some sense of unpacking. I realized that I had left my alarm clock at the hostel in Ammanas (there was a little shelf under the bunk bed that was out of sight unless you were lying in bed, and I just forgot to retrieve it after I took a shower and packed). I'm hoping that I can call them tomorrow and have them send it back down.
Fortunately, laundry day is tomorrow, but I will be surprised if we can get even half of our stuff washed. We don't have any classes until Wednesday, so we can do a full recovery tomorrow. So far, my preliminary check of email indicates that our small group's plan to hold a workshop with Tarkett on Friday has been thwarted. This is both good and bad—we weren't really prepared, but we will also have to miss class on Monday (the alternate date they proposed). I also discovered that I don't need to have a conference call with the Global Reporting Initiative (GRI) people tomorrow, but will try and reschedule for Thursday or Friday.
I managed to walk down to Willy:s and restock my groceries. How nice it will be to wake up tomorrow morning with choices for breakfast!!
Posted by madchen at 07:40 PM | Comments (0)November 25, 2004
Thanksgiving
We left school Tuesday afternoon (after the ubiquitous stragglers finally showed up) and headed up to Stockholm. The trip was uneventful—I was surprised to see snow only an hour outside of Karlskrona. Apparently, there had been quite bad weather the previous 24 hours, and the roads were treacherous at times. Luckily Lars, our driver, was quite the winter weather driving expert—and even when we had to slow down to 30 km/hr (because the wind was blowing drifts into the unplowed road and limiting visibility), I felt quite confident we would arrive safely. We passed an overturned car, half-buried in a snow bank, but after stopping to investigate, we realized the car was empty and proceeded on our way.
We watched Memento on the bus video system (funny with Swedish subtitles) and played "Go Fish". Our hostel was on the south side of the Stockholm city center, so we didn't get a good look at the old town section as we came in—instead we unloaded all of our stuff and checked-in to the hostel.
For my second hostel experience, I was once again very fortunate. The place we stayed, FNB Stockholm, was spacious, spotlessly clean, and toasty warm. Ayamba (from Camaroon), Birte (from Germany), Siti (from Malaysia), and I shared a room. Although we were pretty exhausted (it took us nearly 8 hours to get from Karlskrona to Stockholm—a trip that normally takes 4.5 hours by train), several of us took a little walk around town, just to stretch our legs and get a feel for the area. There were a good 4 inches of snow on the ground, and I was surprised to see that the sidewalks and roads didn't look plowed (at least not recently). Instead, the cars just drive slowly and people wear thick boots. (My new boots kept my feet delightfully warm, but I must admit that the slightly higher ankle height has given the back of my legs quite ugly welts.)
We were back in our rooms by 11:30 p.m. and after a few minutes of reading Believing Cassandra: An Optimist Looks at a Pessimistic World (I'm still at the pessimistic part), I fell fast asleep. The alarm sounded all too early, and I took a quick shower (narrowly avoiding soaking my clothes in the process) before packing up and getting breakfast.
We were back on the bus by 8 a.m. and hopped over to one of the local Scandic hotels for an all-day workshop with Alan Atkisson, author of Believing Cassandra. He was great—really taking the ideals of sustainability down to the practical level. I enjoyed the group work (imagine that!), but could have passed on the 3 songs he sang (all with a sustainability motif).
That evening, after a tedious adventure getting 40 people subway tickets, we managed to get ourselves down to University of Stockholm to meet with some other sustainability students. The campus was glorious, with huge, puffy drifts of snow glistening in the evening light. It's amazing how light the night can be with the reflection off the snow! As we walked to the far end of campus, it began to snow again—not large flakes, but tiny, stinging, driving snow that formed coats of snowy ice on our jackets, hats, and eyelashes.
We had a brief get together with the other students, but to be honest, my heart wasn't in it—I mostly wanted to get someplace quiet where I could sit down with a cup of coffee. Lisa had the same idea, and we tried to sneak out, but once again we got bogged down in the group process. By the time we left the Stockholm campus, we were up to a dozen people. We took the subway down to the old town area of Stockholm and walked back to the bus pick-up point. It was freezing and snowing and we were all coated in a layer of ice by the time we made it back to the right place. By then, the group had split off into a bunch of smaller groups, and Lisa, Siti, and I found ourselves alone at a coffee shop (Wayne's!!)—just like the original plan.
By 10:30 p.m. we were on the road again, this time to Umea. We watched My Big Fat Greek Wedding (a sure crowd pleaser), then tried to sleep for a bit before our required stop for the bus driver. Around 4 a.m. the bus driver pulled to the side of the road and woke us up to show us the Northern Lights. While they weren't spectacular, it was the first time I had ever seen them. It reminded me of a lava lamp, undulating in and out of the night sky—showing up for 30-45 seconds and then vanishing. It was quite impressive, particularly considering that it was competing with a full moon that gave off an incredible amount of light.
I managed to get a little sleep before we pulled into our breakfast stop. I had a bizarre dream where Amity, Rene, Mitch, Ronan, Kristoffer, and I went on an amazing adventure, starting from Kristoffer's family's boat and stretching into an abandoned amusement park where we were chased by security guards and had to evade them with our super jumping powers. There was also some weird love triangle, but it's too fuzzy in my head to remember enough to describe. I was disappointed to wake up and find myself balled up on the bus, facing a full day of activity.
Today we toured a heating plant in Umea, where waste is collected and incinerated. The waste heat is then distributed in the form of electricity and water to the surrounding municipality. I had a horrid time concentrating on the lecture (having really only gotten 2 hours of sleep), and dazedly wandering along with the tour of the plant. I will confess that the most interesting part of the tour was getting to look in the furnace, where all the waste was burning in huge spurts of flame. I had a confused moment where it suddenly struck me that this was very much like the Holocaust furnaces, but I snapped out of it once we emerged into the freezing air.
We had lunch in Umea and got back on the bus for a trip to Umea's "Green Zone"—a collection of businesses (McDonald's, Ford dealership, and Statoil gas station) that have designed their buildings around sustainability principles. Once again, I was too sleepy to really appreciate it (the cold didn't help—it's about -10 Celsius) but picked up a little report for future reading.
Tonight we're at a cute family-run hostel, spread out between three farm buildings. Eight of us are in the main building, but the others are spread between an old house with no running water and a converted garage. We had a fantastic dinner of salmon soup and bread, and spent some time chatting with the family. At one point, a smaller group went around the circle and said what they were thankful for (seeing as it was American Thanksgiving). I was feeling a little homesick—Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday—but everyone was really sweet and I was grateful to be around such a caring group of people.
Now it's almost 11 p.m. and I'm dying to get to bed. I'm wearing a pair of long underwear, plus pajama bottoms and a sweatshirt. On top of this, I'm going to add a pair of wool socks to keep me warm tonight. I'm thrilled to be spending two nights in this place, as it allows me to unpack and organize a little—rather than constantly swapping stuff from my suitcase to my seat on the bus to my suitcase and back and forth.
And now, I can take no more and must get some sleep. Ahh, blissful sleep. Too bad the alarm is set for 6:45 a.m. again.
Posted by madchen at 07:41 PM | Comments (0)November 09, 2004
My trip to Poland and the adventure that followed…
Despite my surging adrenaline of the past two hours, I will proceed with this tale chronologically. Not very excitingly, Friday morning was filled with laundry. Fortunately, since Roya and Jess were erstwhile occupied, I had all the laundry facilities to myself and managed to wash (and dry—the most important step!)…
[insert brief pause while I chat with the police and firemen at my door]
…all of my dirty clothes, for once escaping out of my chronic laundry deficit. Just as I was folding the last bunch of clothes, Jo arrived to pick me up. We had decided to spend the afternoon at Wayne's Coffee, discussing our thoughts on the upcoming thesis project. Afterwards, she was going to take me to the ferry, where I would meet the others on the trip.
There was a bit of a scramble to throw some clothes in a bag (Jo had arrived 15 minutes early), but we set off without too much trouble and had a lovely couple of hours at Wayne's. We ran into Lisa and her wife Liz, who was visiting from Boston for a couple days, and Mike—another classmate. Before I knew it, it was time to mosey over to the ferry.
[insert longer pause while I run to the bathroom to vomit]
At the ferry station, I met up with Renaud, Amity, Rene, and David and we boarded the most luxurious ferry I have ever seen. It was gigantic, with several restaurants, places to gamble, a movie theatre, and most importantly of all—a duty-free shop.
We went to get something to eat, and everything was going swimmingly until about 20 minutes after we departed, when I noticed that the ferry was rolling back and forth in an ominous way. I had brought—but neglected to take—Dramamine and it was quickly apparent that the drugs were of utmost priority. Now, I am prone to motion sickness, but the others on the trip will attest to the unusually wobbly nature of a ship so large.
Within 30 minutes I was back to my cheerful (if a little giddy) self. After a little wandering around the ferry, we went back to our cabin (a cheerful, tiny compartment with two bunk beds and just enough room between them for Rene to sleep in a sleeping bag on the floor.
The rocking was bad enough that when I tried to lay on my side, I was gently rolled onto my stomach, and then to my back. Having taken yet more Dramamine, I was merely intrigued by this phenomenon and was able to get enough sleep so that I didn't want to kill myself when we docked at 7 a.m. the next morning.
After disembarking and making our way through passport control (I have 4 stamps from this trip alone!), we caught a taxi and drove the 20 km from Gdynia to Gdansk. We were dropped off at the train station, where we bid goodbye to Renaud, who was continuing on to Krakow. After withdrawing zlotys (Polish currency) from an ATM, we were ready to go. Rene and I were hungry for breakfast, so we walked up to a local bakery stand in the train station, only to be denied food because we didn't have any small bills. Apparently, 100 zlotys (the bill dispensed from the ATM) was equal to about $30, and the roll I wanted was only 1.5 zlotys. This was my introduction into the wonderful world of cheap, delicious Polish baked goods.
Still hungry, we walked a couple of blocks and found another bakery that let us buy rolls and a loaf of bread. Trailing breadcrumbs behind us, we walked another 10 minutes until we found our hostel. This being my first hostel experience, I wasn't sure what to expect. Aside from the stale-vomit smell in the entrance, it was lovely. There was a comfy living room that reminded me of a group house my friend David lived in during college. There was a tiny kitchen and refrigerator, along with free tea and coffee. Our room upstairs was remarkably similar to our room on the ferry, with two sets of bunk beds, but a little more cheerful, with bright orange curtains.
[insert pause to cut a piece of bread and add peanut butter]
The brilliant thing about the hostel was that it was only 120 zlotys for two nights ($40)! It had free internet and a stereo that played bizarre international music in the background.
Anyway, after we deposited our things in our room and checked out the bathroom (right next door) and shower (right next to the bathroom), we bundled up again (it was cold—we decided that this weekend marked the turning point of fall into winter) and set off to explore the town.
Gdansk is a beautiful old city, founded just before 1000 AD. It has a massive shipyard, and these ship workers founded the Solidarity Movement that eventually led to the transition from Poland as a Communist Nation to a democracy. They held Poland's first workers' strike and many were killed—today you can see a monument to the fallen ship workers of that period.
On the commercial side, Gdansk is noted for its collection on amber and silver jewelry. One of the streets we walked down (made up, of course, of tall buildings and cobblestone) had nearly to dozen amber shops within a single block. I was appalled by some of the gaudy pieces (think something Wilma from the Flintstones would have worn), but there was also some exquisite work to behold.
[insert pause to open up the windows in a futile attempt to get the smoky smell out]
After trekking about, we stopped in at a little place for lunch, where we were treated to heaping plates of shaslik, kebab, and pizza. Thus sated, we continued our walk around the city, stopping in at a couple of the old churches to look around. One in particular was undergoing renovation, and the restoration crew had discovered some original wall murals dating from the 1300s underneath the plaster. It was amazing to look at how the art and architecture had changed over 700 years. Overall, however, it was a bit desolate and creepy, and I was happy to get back outside and continue walking. We meandered back and forth, marveling at the structure of the town, which was built facing the harbor and begins with a solid row of houses, connected to a huge watchtower and heavily fortified mill.
We had planned to see an opera or ballet, but after negotiating the Polish electric train (basically a little tram that runs all over the city) we discovered that the box office was closed. Being so far our of our way, we then decided to do some shopping. Poland is supposed to have really cheap goods, and Rene and Amity had come with a list. At the tram station, a woman had explained that the shopping center called "mo-hatte" was our best bet, and so we started walking in the general direction she had pointed out. It was drizzling, and I was soaked by the time we finally located the "Manhatten" mall. It was depressingly "Westernized" and didn't even have super deals. It did, however, have a coffee shop when I partook of a latte macchiato that was horrendous until I added a few teaspoons of sugar. Amity and Rene had limited success, and we agreed that Poland malls are not for us.
Eventually, we ended up back at the hostel, where we took a quick breather before setting off to find diner. We had heard about a vegetarian restaurant a couple of blocks away, but we were treated rather shabbily and decided to find another place. We ended up back on the main street at a pierogi place. It's main décor revolved around stuffed animals (a little creepy) and we dined directly under a ferocious-looking boar's head attached to the wall. The food was strange and Polish—I got a plate of mini-pierogis filled with what seemed like pureed pork. Ick.
Having had a poor night's sleep, and having walked around all day, we were exhausted after dinner and declined invitations (from other hostel people we met at the restaurant) to join them for a night of clubbing. Instead, we hustled back to the hostel and called it a night.
Sometime in the middle of the night I woke up with a tummy ache (damn pureed pork!) and spent a couple hours being silently miserable. So when the rest of the group got up early, I stayed in bed and caught up on my sleep. By the time I was up, had breakfast, and did some reading, the group was back. We had plans to go see the Shipyard museum, but we dawdled too long. Instead, we walked around the town some more. The night was beautiful and the water was perfectly still, so the buildings stood out in perfect reflection. We stopped in at one of the amber stores on the waterfront, and Rene got a couple of gifts to take back home. I was tempted to get a silver necklace, but decided to sleep on it.
For dinner, we chose a pizza place on the main lane, and had great time chatting. Up until this trip, I didn't really know Amity, Rene, and David that well, and I am SO glad that I came along on this adventure. They are all bright, intelligent, funny, articulate, caring people—the best in the program.
[insert brief pause for warm fuzzy feeling]
Once again, we called it an early night. In the morning, I slept in while the others did some last minute shopping and took a walk near the shipyards. Bored, I did some shopping of my own and got a gorgeous silver necklace with two pendants. Pictures to follow…
The entire group rendezvoused back at the hostel and decided to take one last circle round the town. Around 5:30 p.m. we caught a taxi back to Gdynia and boarded the same ferry back to Karlskrona. Miraculously, there was almost no motion on the boat (even though I was heavily doped up on Dramamine) and we enjoyed a quiet evening back. I stopped in at the duty-free shop and bought a couple presents for my trip home this weekend, and was in bed by 11 p.m.
Once again, I awoke in the middle of the night with tummy trouble. Fortunately, we were nearly there, and I only spent an hour or two in the bathroom (oh the yuckiness of it all) before Amity, Rene, and David managed to get me through passport control and into the waiting area. Apparently, the vomiting and other-associated-symptoms-which-I-won't-describe had taken their toll, because I looked like death warmed over. This was far beyond a little motion sickness—more like a full on stomach flu. I could barely think straight, and bless Rene for calling Jo to come pick me up at the ferry terminal—there was no WAY I could have made it home on the bus (the original plan).
I made it home with no terrible incidents, and crawled into bed (well, crawled into bed and then jumped back out to go vomit in the bathroom) with Roya watching on in horror from her room. I have no idea how I spent the next few hours, but managed by 3 p.m. to once again make sense of the world around me. I made some tea and ate some crackers, only to have them come up again on short notice. Things progressed slowly (how strange it is to be grateful to visit the bathroom only once an hour!) until around 5 p.m. That's when my next adventure began…
I had written previously about the family upstairs who likes to yell. Well, shortly after 5 p.m. (still sweaty from throwing up and wearing only a t-shirt and sweatpants), I heard the two little girls screaming in the hallway. It was immediately apparent that they were screaming from terror, so I walked up the stairs and saw smoke billowing out of their apartments. The girls were running back and forth, screaming and crying, and the mother was dashing in and out of the apartment shrieking in Swedish. I peered around the corner of the apartment and could see the glow of flames coming from the living room. The mother was completely hysterical (it is clear to me now that she has severe social problem) and couldn't make up her mind on what to do. At this point, I picked up the littlest girl and grabbed the hand of the older one (they were maybe 3 and 6) and took them down the stairs as fast as we could go. The mother ran by us, trying to knock on one of the neighbor's doors, but when no one answered, she ran back upstairs. I decided she was a lost cause and continued out the door with the girls. They were both barefoot and didn't have coats, so we stayed in the entryway for a minute while I decided what to do. Fortunately, a man came down the stairs and hold me he had called the 112 (the Swedish 911) and that the firemen were on their way. At this point, the mother runs out the front door and I set down the little girl. The whole family turns to see their father coming up the driveway (coming from the bus, I guess) and runs to greet him. At this point, I am distracted by the arrival of 3 fire trucks, an ambulance, and several police cars. By now, passersby are swarming around, but most of the occupants of the building are still inside. While running down the steps with the girls, I had looked for a fire alarm but had been unable to find one. So as the firemen dashed up the stairs, they managed to get everyone out of their apartments. My neighbors took their sweet time and arrived outside with coats and hats on—and there I was in a t-shirt and sweatpants—no shoes, no coat, and violently fighting another wave of nausea.
After about 20 minutes of standing in the freezing weather, Benny and Pavan showed up from the bus stop. Benny gallantly offered me his coat, and Pavan led me up to his apartment to use his phone and get some water. I called Jess and Roya to let them know what had happened, and then went back outside. By then, the family had gone to the hospital (the mom was on oxygen—I suppose from the inhaled smoke), and someone had taken their dog and cat away (poor things, the cat looked ready to die in fright).
After another wait, we were finally allowed back inside. The stairwell was soaked from the fire hoses (they leak) and I trailed up the stairs with some trepidation. The smell of smoke was everywhere, but thankfully, I had the presence of mind to shut the door on the rampage out, so our apartment was largely unscathed. Aside from a smoky smell, and some water that will come through the roof in Jess's room, we are still in business.
The next hour was filled with firemen, policemen, and Karlskronahem security people wandering through the apartment to assess potential damage. Overall, people were quite nice and willing to translate into English. Apparently, the mother had set fire to their couch with a cigarette lighter, and the damage was contained in the living room. Still, their apartment is in shambles. Sigh…maybe they will move out. Too bad, since I was able to use my rudimentary Swedish to talk with the little girl, whose name is Kim.
So now I'm back in the apartment, with most of the activity done. It's taken me a LONG time to go through this entry, and I'm looking forward to a nice long sleep sans digestion or fire problems. Keeping my fingers crossed…
Posted by madchen at 11:42 PM | Comments (0)October 31, 2004
Kayaking
It's nearly midnight and I'm back safe and sound from my kayaking trip. Actually, I've been back for hours, but have just now found time to sit down and catch up on my email and Internet.
The kayaking trip was great. We met at the school around 11:30 a.m., and unloaded all of our stuff in the common room. Kevin has his own kayak, so he paddled over to the Karlskrona Kayak Club (Karlskrona Eskimåklubb) while Mitch and I rode our bikes over to Langö.
The kayak club is a fun little house with a dock and a row of storage facilities. The guy at the club outfitted us with kayaks, spray skirts, life vests, paddles, and kayaks, and sent us off. Kevin and Mitch both have significant kayaking experience, so I was in good hands. We had managed to borrow tents from Amity and Scotty, so along with Kevin's tent, we each had a roomy place to sleep. I borrowed David's sleeping bag, which was rated to -5°C, but still left my feet cold. It was, however, the roomiest sleeping bag I've ever used, allowing me to do a full 360° roll without getting tangled up.
After a detailed inventory of gear, everything was stored away in the kayaks and we set off. We paddled for a little over an hour and found our way to Skärva, a little village past Nattraby. One of the small group presentations on Friday was about Skärva and the Wachtmeister family who lives there and runs an "ecobutik" of natural foods. None of us had been there yet, so we pulled our kayaks up on the shore and did a little hiking. We weren't exactly sure which way we were going, so hiking through the soggy forest was both beautiful and mysterious. After a while, we ran into a fence that declared we were entering the Skärva nature reserve, which we knew was close to the ecobutik. More wandering (this time more purposefully) eventually led us to the correct location. We met up with Henrik Wachtmeister (who had been at the group presentation) and purchased a few snacks. He graciously allowed us to camp in the nature reserve (which he runs) and even provided us with firewood for a campfire.
We hiked back to the campsite with armfuls of firewood (I was about ready to give up and throw down the wood on the side of the path when we finally reached the site), and paddled our kayaks around to the new location. By then, it was getting dark, and we scrambled to put up the tents and unload the gear before darkness fell. It's interesting to note that everyone claims their tent is "really easy" to put together, and yet when the sun is rapidly fading, it never seems very intuitive. In the end, both Kevin and Mitch had to help me with my tent. As they put it—it doesn't matter if it's put together correctly as long as it stands up. And they were right!
After the tents were up, the next big adventure was getting the fire started. (Thankfully, Kevin had brought a tiny gas stove, so we knew that even if we couldn't get the fire started, we still had a warm meal to eat.) We had two main problems: 1) we didn't have any kindling and 2) the wood was damp. What followed was an extremely comical episode of karate-chopping the wood, sawing at the wood with Swiss army knives, and gently coaxing a precariously balanced sculpture of paper, twigs, and wood shavings. After several failed attempts, the guys finally got it working (they really are quite a talented pair!) and we had a merry fire for the rest of the night.
Dinner (which Kevin and Mitch cooked—I really did not contribute much to this weekend) consisted of Tex-Mex pasta, crayfish, bread, beans, clementines, cashews, almonds, and various other goodies. Dessert, of course, was chocolate. All of which was complemented with red wine.
We stayed up around the campfire for a couple hours, marveling at how nice the weather was. The day had been completely gray, with the occasional sprinkle—but nothing serious. I got more wet from my inefficient paddling than from the rain. The main concern for me was the wind, which made paddling harder and me colder. Once we pulled into the campsite, however, the wind died down and we could see a beautiful glassy sea all the way across the water to Karlskrona.
After chatting about conspiracy theories, male/female interaction among Swedes, and the dangers of microchip implants, we headed off to bed. Aside from freezing feet, I was quite comfortable. I bravely killed several spiders that had crawled in my tent and went to sleep.
We were up the next morning bright and early (well, the boys were up brighter and earlier than me…). Kevin had made tea, so I warmed up with a hot drink and contemplated the day ahead. We managed to break camp relatively quickly, repacked the kayaks, and shoved off.
We spent the rest of the morning paddling around past Dragsö and through Karlskrona. During this time the clouds blew away, revealing a startlingly blue sky. We stopped off at the school to unload our gear, then paddled back to the kayak club to turn in our kayaks. After the necessary drying and storing of the kayaks, and the replacement of the spray skirts and life vests, we reorganized our remaining gear and parted ways. Kevin paddled back to the school in his kayak, which Mitch and I rode our bikes.
At the school, we indulged in a little post-kayaking feast, eating most of the remaining food. Then we resorted our gear, making sure everyone had their proper belongings. Then Mitch and I rode our bikes back to Kungsmarksvägen. I was exhausted, and barely made it up the last hill. But as Mitch pointed out, people who climb Mount Everest but don't make it back down (i.e. they DIE on the mountain) don't have their names entered in the book. It was therefore postulated that if I didn't make it back to Kungsmarksvägen that afternoon, I would not get credit for the kayaking trip at all.
Once I was home, I stripped off the 15 layers of clothing and hopping in the bath. Roya and Jess had cleaned the apartment while I had been gone, and it was lovely to walk in and find a spotless bathroom. I had a long soak, nearly drowning several times as I dropped off to sleep. Eventually, I pulled myself up and finished off with a hot shower. Still in my robe with my hair in a towel, I crawled into my unmade bed (laundry from Friday night—including my sheets—hadn't been fully dried when I left) and promptly fell asleep under my bare duvet.
I had the best intentions to get up and dressed. Tomomi was singing in a concert at the old church tonight, and I wanted to go hear her. But once I lay down there was no hope. I slept solidly for a couple hours, then woke up at 7 p.m. and spent a couple hours unpacking and cleaning up, and going over final edits for our group paper.
At some point, Roya came home from the concert with Heather, Laura, and Mitch in tow. They prepared a lovely meal while Birte (who had also arrived) and I made the edits to the document. We ate and engaged in a post-dinner massage chain, which was pure bliss. My arms and shoulders had been getting increasingly sore since I turned in my kayak, and 30 minutes of back massage was the perfect antidote.
So now I'm in my room, with the sheets finally on the bed, and edits to the paper done (for now—we're still meeting with the whole group tomorrow at lunch to make the final, FINAL edits). I have class at 9 a.m. tomorrow, when we'll begin the second term of our program. We're expecting a guest lecturer, but I can't remember who it is, nor have I read the assigned article. Hopefully I'll have enough time tomorrow morning to quickly skim over it before class begins.
Posted by madchen at 08:18 PM | Comments (0)October 26, 2004
Give It Up
This afternoon I met my small group to go over our PowerPoint presentation. Tomomi and Renaud had worked on it, while Birte and I had worked on the paper itself, so I hadn't seen it before now. I was blown away with their creativity--the presentation was great! We did a little fine-tuning, and went through a dry-run. I'll be talking about social sustainability and community investing--all in 5 minutes.
Tomomi and I had dinner at a little kebab place near the school, where we met Mitch. After a delicious meal (which was WAY too big), we biked back to Kungsmarksvagen, my home sweet home. Mitch's small group is actually focusing on how to make Kungsmarksvagen a nicer place to live--and has met with lots of municipality and city representatives--so I am somewhat hopeful that things probably won't get worse...
As for my housing situation, I am looking at it this way: it's a sign. I am now convinced that I will pass the Foreign Service Oral Exam in November and will be immediately called into a training session, requiring me to leave the program early (thus solving my frustration about the program AND the housing situation). So, really, it's better that I have to stay in this place. Right?
I finally got around to uploading pictures from the Canadian Thanksgiving last week. First, one of me (notice the perfectly shaped eyebrows):
Next, one of the dinner itself:
From left to right: Ron, Cesar, Susan, Renaud, and Paulo. Now, for the next picture, a little explanation is necessary. Because of the food preparation required, people started eating the cool dishes while the hot dishes baked in the oven and I made the gravy on the stovetop. By the time I got to the table (which was heaving with dishes for 40 people), this is what was left:
Finally, here is a picture from the front of my window. It doesn't really capture the full beauty of the trees because of the cloudy weather. I tried for a week to catch a better glimpse, but the sun refused to come out. And now, sadly, the leaves are past their peak.
Anyway, it's now after midnight and I have to be back at campus by 8 a.m. tomorrow morning to prepare for our 8:30 a.m. presentation. Sigh. I will be GLAD when this is all over.
But perhaps I should do a little studying before I go to bed. That nap this afternoon has left me wide awake...
Posted by madchen at 10:25 PM | Comments (0)October 25, 2004
When Shitty Things Happen to Good People
Today started off like any other--3 hours of small group work (DTSG). We broke for lunch, and I spent another two hours editing and revising some of our work. Right before going back downstairs for still more group work, I thought I might call the assistant landlord of our new apartment to arrange a time to sign the paperwork. He picked up the phone on the second ring, and the conversation went as follows:
Me: Hello Roger? This is Jennifer.
Roger: Hello! How are you?
Me: Fine, thanks. I was just calling to see if you had talked to the landlord yet about the apartment.
Roger: Yes, I did. How long would you stay?
Me: As I mentioned, our program only goes through this spring, so we would stay until the end of June.
Roger. (Awkwardly) Oh. I don't think the landlord will rent to you for such a short time.
Me: (Stunned) Really? Is there any way he might change his mind?
Roger: No. I hope you can find another place to live.
Me: Well, I'm very disappointed...
Roger: Yes, good luck.
And with that, my dream of an apartment by the beach, by the park, and by a foreign Navy barracks was smashed to bits. Instead of curling up in a ball and crying, I decided to...
...spend the rest of the day with my small group. That's right, what better way to capture the silver lining in a crappy day than with 4 more hours of small group work, then dinner studying for Thursday's exam, and then 2 more hours working in pairs on the group project?
I ask you, could life get any better?
DTSG
Posted by madchen at 11:28 PM | Comments (0)October 13, 2004
Canadian Thanksgiving
Here are a couple pictures that Amity took last night at our Canadian Thanksgiving party. First, here's Mitch with the turkeys:
Next, here's a picture of me and Amity. Notice how lovely I look with a post-cold, no make-up aura:
Here's Ron, Amity, and David--all Canadian/American co-hosts:
In the rush to the feast, we weren't able to capture the laden table. But here's a quick peek at the desserts!
In other news, I'm having trouble tracking down information on the Montgomery Country Elections. How do I determine the best candidates for the school board, for the Court of Special Appeals, and amendments to the property tax limits imposed by City Council? I thought that the County Elections site would have a central website with basic information, but my hopes were dashed. Instead, I suppose I'll have to search out the individual websites. Or perhaps I will just skip those topics and just vote for the President, Senate, and House of Representatives.
Posted by madchen at 08:44 PM | Comments (0)Happy Thoughts
I have been looking over the last few weeks of entries, and I've realized that I come across as either excessively preachy or depressingly gloomy. Recognizing that I can be a bit bossy on occasion (ok, a lot bossy, a lot of the time) and that I thrive on the drama of bad news, this is a problem.
While there are certainly things that am irritated with here in Sweden (the housing situation, the less-than-challenging lectures, the LOUD music coming from my roommates room this very second), I'm generally finding this time to be very fulfilling. I enjoy thinking about sustainability issues, and even if I don't necessarily buy into all the stuff they talk about in class, it is challenging to try and sift through the rhetoric and discover ways to apply these new ideas to my own life. Which leads to the second problem: self-righteousness.
Now that I have a bunch of ideas on how to improve my life (de-materializing, getting rid of my car, composting), I want everyone around me to have similar epiphanies. For one thing, it's so much easier when a group commits to changing its behavior—I would have a common accountability, rather than just holding myself to these new ideals. But also, I want to feel like I'm making a difference in my peer group, and the easiest way to do that from here is to exhort my family and friends to make huge changes in their lives. On the other hand, I have a strong feeling that perhaps that can have the opposite effect, as the constant badgering creates a backlash against change.
Of course, I realize that the most convincing impetus to change is a personal example. So I suppose that I would be most effective by just living my own life, and letting people see that it makes me a better person AND helps the environment, society at large, etc. Ugh—what a responsibility. It's so much easier just to keep encouraging people to compost their kitchen scraps.
So, my new commitment is to stop recommending solutions to people and to just start living with these new values. Additionally, I want to try and move this online journal from a place to complain about things to a place where I evaluate both the positive and the negative—and where I determine my role in both sides of the situation. As I look at some of my colleagues' blogs, I'm struck at how they take issues and apply them to their personal lives, but still manage to speak to a larger audience. That will be my goal here.
I will now begin with a list of things I'm happy about today:
· The gray clouds and drizzly weather has finally passed and today is clear and crisp. The temperature has fallen dramatically in the past few days, and we now hover in the 40s. The trees are changing colors, and it view from my bedroom is breathtaking. Even though the wind is howling outside, it’s a cheery sound, complete with rustling leaves.
· The family upstairs seems to have achieved some sense of balance, and the yelling has abated quite a bit. Now that I feel confident in approaching them the next time it goes on for more than a few minutes, I can more easily bear the few spats that still arise.
· We're done with system dynamics! Afternoon classes were cancelled today, so I'm at home reading the next set of articles—all about environmental economics. Our guest lecturer is Christian Azar, former CEO of Electrolux and Volvo. He will be speaking to us primarily about climate change, and the economics of global warming. Here's the abstract from one of his papers:
Abstract - Are the economic costs of stabilising the atmosphere prohibitive?
By Christian Azar, Stephen H. Schneider
Macro economic studies of the costs of reducing CO2 emissions generally estimate the global cost of stabilising the atmospheric concentrations of CO2 in the range 350–550 ppm in trillions of USD. This creates the impression that the cost of CO2 reductions is so large that it threatens economic development. But, presented in another way, a completely different picture emerges. There is widespread agreement amongst the more pessimistic macro economic studies that stringent carbon controls are compatible with a significant increase in global and regional economic welfare. Even if the cost of CO2 abatement rises to 5% of global income per year by the end of this century, this reduction is minor compared with the tenfold increase in global income that is expected. Since income is assumed to grow by a couple of percent per year, the trillion USD cost could also be expressed as a few years delay in achieving an order of magnitude higher income levels. Similar observations can also be made as regards near-term abatement targets such as the Kyoto protocol. A more widespread recognition of the fact that carbon abatement policies will only marginally affect economic growth is likely to increase the willingness to introduce carbon abatement policies.
· I got a package from La today. I knew it had arrived, but hadn't had a chance until today to pick it up from the post office. I'm so glad I did, because it contains all sorts of goodies, including the Garden State soundtrack. Ahh, good music. There is currently Raggajungle blasting from the next room, so I'll have to wait until later to enjoy it uninterrupted.
· Since class was cancelled this afternoon, I can continue reading my new book (courtesy of the BTH library), The Robber Bride, by Margaret Atwood. I started it a couple days ago, but haven't been able to find any chunk of time to really get into it. From what I've read, however, I think I'm really going to enjoy it. There's also the possibility of a nap!
And now, another installment of:
INTERESTING THINGS TO THINK ABOUT
McDonald's is introducing (or re-introducing?) a sandwich, which is basically a hamburger with lettuce and tomato. Kind of like the Arch Burger, as I recall. What makes it weird is the advertising campaign. The billboard shows a mid-1800s B&W picture of a Mexican bolero singer. He has a huge sombrero, a striped poncho, a handlebar mustache—you get the picture. Towards the bottom of the poster is a color picture of the sandwich, with the caption, "Return of the Legendary EL MACO". Now, this seems strange to me. Is this advertising campaign being used around the world, or just in Sweden? Would people here understand the concept of "El Maco"? Is there some implication that Mexican guitarists enjoyed sandwiches of this nature? Every time I ride my bike past this poster (it's on one of the bus station walls), I think about these questions—which is probably the entire point of the campaign, getting people to think about the product.
Posted by madchen at 08:41 PM | Comments (0)September 20, 2004
A Doozy of a Lecture
Let me begin by stressing just how exhausted I am today. I biked approximately 30k during yesterday's arts show on the island of Aspo. The day started off gray and rainy, and since I didn't have any rain gear (a problem I am only too enthusiastic to remedy), I was forced to bike 7k down to the ferry in just a long-sleeved t-shirt, fleece vest, and running pants. It was uncomfortable, chilly, and well, downright unpleasant. But I persevered, and was rewarded when the sun came out an hour or so into our tour of the island. About a dozen people from our program went, although we didn't always stick together, and we took in 18 different homes/sites with handmade arts--including weaving, furniture, paintings, ceramics, and jewelry.
The highlight of the day, however, was seeing the castle, which was designed to be the main defense against the invasion of Karlskrona. Built in the 1600s and used for several centuries, it is now a tourist spot. I took lots of pictures, which I will post tomorrow.
The island was beautiful, with tiny cottages, and pastures with horses and sheep. We even stopped in a tiny church for part of their Sunday evening service to hear some violin and piano music. Lovely, lovely--but not enough to distract me from my growing unease. You see, I am a bit "saddle sore". That's what I get for not breaking in my bike with a few shorter trips first!
Anyway, I got back to the apartment around 8 p.m and dashed to the shower. I made a hurried dinner and went downstairs to Birte and Tomomi's place for a bit of "Candlelight Yoga". This exercise consisted of me putting my laptop at the front of the empty living room and playing one of my yoga DVDs. We chose the one designed for relaxation, so it was perfect for stretching out our sore muscles.
After that, I went back upstairs, ate the dinner I had prepared earlier, and went straight to bed. This morning, I was pleasantly surprised that I wasn't too sore, and so decided to ride my bike into campus. What followed was three and a half hours of painful explanations of thermodynamics. I am going to take a picture of my notes from today to demonstrate the ridiculousness of it all.
Moreover, the room was freezing, and I have only just got feeling back in my nose, fingers, and toes. I'm hoping to gather my energy and run home (stopping, of course, at Marieberg to pick up my package!) to eat a warm lunch. For the rest of the afternoon, I plan on reading my textbook and taking a nap.
A note: riding my bike while carrying my laptop and its accoutermentsis tiresome, so I won't bring in my computer to school for the rest of the week. We're expecting internet service at our apartment on Thursday, so I'll update my journal then...
Posted by madchen at 09:05 PM | Comments (0)September 08, 2004
Laundry
Hmm, I seem to have gotten behind on this journal—let me do a quick recap. Yesterday was the standard school fare with lectures from 8:30 a.m. to noon. Afterwards, I did some quick internet stuff and then hurried home to start my laundry. What followed was either:
a. a scene out of a Marx brothers movie or
b. a scene from Armageddon
First off, it took us a week to get a time reserved for laundry. The Kungsmarksvägen people have a weird system where you reserve the day spot (7 a.m. to 2 p.m.) or the night spot (2 p.m. to 9 p.m.). From 9 p.m. to 7 a.m. they turn off the electricity. Anyway, you sign up for a space (usually 7-8 days in advance) on a regular basis.
Now let me describe the laundry room: it's an actual room (there are two near our front door) with two washing machines and one dryer, plus a drying closet (more on that later). Of course, everything is in Swedish, but I managed to figure out the washing machine part of the experiment. Unfortunately, I misread some of the directions (I think, I haven't quite pinpointed where I went wrong) and added WAY too much soap, so all my clothes are stiff. But time was rapidly slipping away and I didn't have time to re-wash all the clothes, so I put a bunch up to dry in the drying closet (basically a giant closet with rods traversing the length of the closet where you can hang your clothes). The "drying" part works by a gentle stream of hot air coming through vents in the rods, plus a blower at one end of the closet. The other clothes I piled into the dryer and set to 60 minutes.
I went back upstairs to do some other stuff, and didn't come down until an hour later, just in time to take the dry clothes upstairs and switch the remaining loads. Imagine my surprise to arrive in the laundry room to discover that NONE of the clothes were dry. The clothes hanging in the drying closet were still extremely damp, and the clothes in the "dryer" were not one iota dryer than when I put them in! I hurriedly took the clothes from the dryer and added them to the drying closet, since Roya was on her way home and still had to do all of her laundry. Long story short, we ended up having to bring every single piece of clothing upstairs at 9 p.m. to hang/lay flat in our apartment.
Have you seen that USA commercial where the girl is looking for a place to lay her sweater down to dry? I think it's an advertisement for a Whirlpool drying center, but the visual is a house completely covered in clothes—drying on every available surface. Well, that was our apartment last night, but we had things 2 or 3 deep, because of a lack of places to lay things. It was comical, but at the time seemed like a nightmare.
All of this was going on simultaneously with a dinner party. We, of course, thought that our laundry would be done HOURS before the party started. So Scotty, Renaud, Ronan, Tomomi, Jessica, Roya, and I had a lovely meal of lasagna and cheesecake while frequently running downstairs to check the status of our slowly-drying clothes. Right now (24 hours after the laundry process started), I still have a good 5-6 shirts and 3 pairs of pants drying in my room. And, mind you, every piece of clothing that did dry is stiff enough to stand under its own weight…
Anyway, laundry was awful but the party was great. And today we had another round of classes. Afterwards, I came home and took a nap, having gotten a lousy night of sleep (I woke up 10-15 times worried about getting my laundry from the drying closet).
Now I'm back at school, trying to connect to the Internet before my Swedish class starts at 5:30 p.m. Clearly, I'm not going to make it, so I have no choice but to save my work, go to class, and hope there is a working connection when I'm done.
Posted by madchen at 11:05 PM | Comments (0)September 05, 2004
Kayaking
Let's see, where was I? After lunch break on Friday, we continued our classes until 3:15 p.m. The princess was quiet, and didn't really affect the lectures that much. I enjoyed hearing Karl-Hendrik speak, and I am really looking forward to next week's lectures, as they will cover information I haven't already read about in the coursebook.
After class, I went downtown and ran a few errands. I picked up Q-tips and hair de-frizzer at the drug store (like a CVS, but only with beauty products). I re-charged my mobile phone (hurrah for outgoing calls!) and did some grocery shopping. While at Spar, I ran into Birte who told me that Scotty was hosting dinner at his place in Bredgartan. I added a bag of chips to my basket and we agreed to meet at the Kungsmarksvägen bus stop to ride over to Scotty's together. We parted ways, and I went back to the apartment.
Birte ended up running late, so I took the bus over to Centrum alone, running into Mitch on the way. Mitch was on his way to Rene's house, where there was another group dinner in the works. He hopped off the bus at campus, and I continued on alone. I met Paulo and Tomomi at the Tourist Bureau, where we had arranged a central meeting point for those who didn't know where Scotty lived. We walked over together, and arrived a few minutes later to find a dozen people at Scotty's. By the end of the evening, we totally 22 people—it was quite a feast!
Renaud coordinated the dinner, which consisted of a cream-based sauce over pasta. People had brought a variety of bread, appetizers, desserts, and drinks, so there was plenty to go around. Because there were so many of us, we ended up having to cook the pasta in 4 different pots and the sauce in 2 big pans, and it was a funny sight to see 6 pots and pans being juggled between just 4 burners. Additionally, everyone had brought their own plates and silverware, since last time we ended up drinking our pasta out of plastic cups.
The best part of the party was seeing people break into smaller groups to pursue different activities (the dinner-makers, the TV-watchers, the table-chatters). So often I think we feel obligated to be part of one cohesive group, and that can really kill the atmosphere of a party.
Anyway, dinner was fantastic and the rest of the night went swimmingly. We played fun games, watched the news (where there was an all-too-brief segment on the Crown Princess's visit to our class—none of us made it on the screen), and generally had a good time. By 11:30 p.m., many of us were starting to fade, so a group of us said good-bye and headed for the bus.
Walking outside Scotty's apartment, I saw a new side of Sweden—the drunk, raucous side. There were hordes of young Swedish guys EVERYWHERE. Most of them were drinking on the streets (public drinking is allowed some places in Karlskrona, but since no one knows which places are ok and which are forbidden, the rule is never enforced), and the volume and violence seemed to escalate as we approached the town center. I was walking with Siti, the others having fallen behind, and we were amazed to see people throwing bottles into the town center and having mini-fights all along the main street (Ronnebygatan). There was no police presence, and it was a little disconcerting to walk right through these packs of boys. It made me a little nervous (I felt so old!) but I don't think we were in any real danger—except for possibly being hit by a misguided beer bottle. Discussing it later, we decided it was a combination of the young drinking age (18), the lax rules about drinking in public, and the timing—this was the first weekend in the school year. We'll see if it's similarly out-of-control next weekend.
Our group ended up taking the night bus home (the regular bus stops running at 11:30 p.m.), and it was filled with thin, pasty Goth kids and young Swedish women (apparently still capable of walking in a straight line—unlike their male counterparts).
The next morning I woke up bright and early, quickly eating breakfast, making lunch, and getting dressed. I hopped on the bus to Centrum, where I did a quick survey of the farmers market, looking for Jess (our new roommate) so I could give her a set of keys. She wasn't there, so I quickly hopped back on the bus, meeting Birte and Siti. We took the bus out to Saltö, then walked up to Dragsö, meeting Kevin along the way. The four of us made our way out to the campgrounds, where we rented 2 kayaks and a canoe for the day. While we were setting up, Tomomi joined us, bringing the group to five. Kevin, an experience kayaker, gave us a quick lesson in escaping the boat if it tipped (a nervous thought!), and we were off. Birte and I took the first shift in the kayaks, with Kevin, Siti, and Tomomi in the canoe. We later discovered that the canoe was only meant for two people, which explained why it was so sluggish.
The day was beautiful, and perfect for kayaking. Because we started in the archipelago, the water was perfectly smooth, and there was none of the pesky wind that so often plagues the islands. The sky was amazingly clear, and it was so quiet you could hear the reeds rustling along the banks. I won't mention the birds—suffice it to say that they were plentiful as well, but stayed clear of our group.
It was hard to believe we were kayaking in the Baltic Sea—it looked more like a large lake. As we maneuvered north around the island, we switched places—me and Birte paddling the canoe (with Kevin in the middle), and Siti and Tomomi in the kayaks. We paddled this way down through the town center, around bunched of tiny islands, and eventually stopped for lunch on a lump of rock and grasses. By then, we were in the shipping lanes and the wind and waves had picked up significantly. I was exhausted from 3 hours of kayaking and paddling the canoe (I never appreciated how much work steering a canoe is!) and volunteered to be in the middle seat of the canoe for the next leg of the journey. That proved to be a bad idea, since Siti and Tomomi were the canoe paddlers, and their combined arm muscle wasn't enough to get the canoe going in the right direction through the choppy waters. After a half hour of struggling to another shore, we switched again—me and Tomomi in the kayaks, Birte and Kevin paddling the canoe, and Siti in the middle.
With more than 2/3 of the journey complete, the inevitable happened: I fell in the water. It wasn't a spectacular wave that did me in, oh no. I tipped the kayak while trying to get in. Fortunately, the water only came up to my chest, but I was soaked from my knees to my chest. Not wearing a bathing suit, I was pretty miserable for the rest of the trip back to the beach. But I persisted, and enjoyed the aching muscles and waning sun.
We got back to the beach around 3 p.m., where we promptly laid our gear out in the sun. Kevin and Birte went back out in the kayaks to practice Eskimo rolls, while Siti and I tried to dry off. Tomomi left to go visit the farmers market. At some point, everyone came back to the beach and dried off (as best we could—by then it was only about 65-70 degrees, although still sunny). At 4 p.m. we gathered our stuff and walked back to Saltö, where we caught the bus home. We agreed to meet at 6 p.m. at my apartment for dinner.
I immediately hopped in the bath, where I soaked for an hour. Once I was finally warm, I hopped out and got dressed, just in time to let Jessica in the apartment. She had brought all of her stuff over from Nattraby (where she was previously staying), and quickly moved into the living room.
Soon afterwards, Siti and Birte joined us, and the 4 of us had a lovely dinner of pasta and chicken. The kayaking group was wiped out, so we called it an early night. Roya finally made it home (after getting a flat tire during her bike ride), and she and Jessica went to another party in town. I was invited, but just couldn't tear myself away from my soft, fluff bed. I was asleep by 10 p.m. and didn't even hear Roya and Jessica when they got back.
This morning I was up at 9 a.m., awaking to another beautiful day (not quite as nice as yesterday, but I'm not picky). I had a leftover sandwich from yesterday for breakfast (I'm hoping that the cream cheese didn't go bad during the 6 hours it was in my bag before I put it back in the refrigerator) as well as some yogurt with granola. Yum, yum, yum.
I've eased into the day, and at 11 a.m., am still in my pajamas (although the bed is made, dishes are done, and this lovely journal entry is almost complete). I'm not sure what I'll do for the rest of the day—I'd like to do some more reading before classes start tomorrow. On the other hand, I feel like I should be outside enjoying the warm weather (my definition of "warm" has definitely shifted in the last two weeks) while it lasts. If I can get my act together, I might go downtown and sit and read in the park. Or I might curl up in bed and try to get some reading in before an afternoon nap. I'm not sore from the kayaking (like I thought I would be), but I'm definitely still physically tired. No marathons for me today!
Posted by madchen at 11:08 PM | Comments (0)August 29, 2004
Dragso
I skipped the kayaking and opted for a lazy morning. I was up at 8:30 a.m., but took my leisurely time eating breakfast (granola and yogurt—yum), taking a bath/shower, reading my book, etc. It was just after 11:30 a.m. when I hopped on the #7 bus to Saltö. The bus ride took my past campus, past the town center, and around to one of the other islands (Saltö). From there I walked for about 15 minutes to the island of Drasgö, the most northeastern of the big islands in the Karlskrona archipelago.
It was a gorgeous day, and I didn't have a clue where I was going—just that there was a campsite on Drasgö where you could rent canoes and kayaks, and where we would meet for lunch. Fortunately, once I got there I almost immediately met Mandy, another girl from our program (from Virginia—her husband is a professor at Virginia Tech!). We wandered around for a bit, before calling Roya (who was out canoeing with the group). They were still out on the water, but thought they would be pulling into the campsite within the next ½ hour.
In the meantime, several others joined the "picnic-only" group, including Amity, Ron, Paulo, and Karl. We had a lovely meal, all sharing our various provisions. We sat at several of the picnic tables set up along the mini-beach and watched the crazy Swedish people frolicking in the water. The children are prone to swim nude, and think nothing of changing into warm clothes right on the beach. Karl, who scoped out the area yesterday, said that people of all ages participated in the nude swimming, and that the elderly made up a disproportionate number of them. For today, though, the adults mostly stuck with playing croquet in their speedos and other ill-fitting bathing suits. It's really funny how differently people view their bodies here. Clothing is often ill-fitting—usually tending towards the clingy and too-tight—and people who are modestly overweight think nothing of showing a lot of skin. Perhaps I have found a new home?
We kept a lookout for the kayaking group, and saw them circle our side of the water about an hour and half into our lunch, with still the other half of the island to paddles across. By 3 p.m. it was getting cold, and with no sign of the kayakers (they must have landed at some point, but we never met up with them), the picnic people walked back to the city center, picking and eating wild blackberries and blueberries along the way.
Having had more than my share of walking for the day, I caught the bus back to my apartment. Rather famished, I munched on chips and chocolate while my pizza cooked (my first baking experiment!). The pizza turned out okay (I will not be a repeat customer), but I can speak highly of the chips and chocolate (per usual).
Halfway through dinner the doorbell rang. I was expecting Roya at any moment, but couldn't figure out why she wouldn't use her key. Imagine my surprise when I opened the door to find Babar (the Pakistani guy from the International Office) with a girl in tow! Apparently, she had just arrived from Kyrgyzstan and needed a place to sleep for the night. I, of course, refused.
KIDDING!
I immediately welcomed her into the apartment, noting our lack of furniture but giving her the living room for the night. (At this point, you are probably wondering her name. Despite asking her a dozen times, I have forgotten it once again—I think my brain is too full of new names to be accepting others. It's something like Arlita…) She had come via Moscow, and was really tired. We chatted for a bit, and I found out she's in the "Special Planning" department. She was offered an apartment here in Kungsmarksvägen, but refused to sign the contract tonight (making her effectively homeless). Apparently, she thinks this complex is a sty, a sentiment many of us share. I would like to again emphasize that if a person from Kyrgyzstan (a place not known for its excessive standard of living) thinks that Kungsmarksvägen is a sty, it probably is. It's not just me and my elitist ways. On the other hand, it grows on me every day. I like to think of myself as "one of the people"—a real Mench, you know?
This mystery girl has now left on a little pre-collapse adventure (presumably to find food) and I'm in the apartment alone. I've packed up the remaining half of the pizza, put the chocolate out of eyesight, and am contemplating continuing reading my book. It's really interesting, but very engineering-intensive. It has, however, made me want to build my own super-energy-efficient home when I'm done with this program. I'm on a chapter that talks about how super-efficient insulation and ventilation design can eliminate the need for a furnace and air conditioner, even with temperature variations of 160 degrees Fahrenheit—without costing more than traditional design. Pretty cool!
Other interesting observations:
* I saw a man today who obviously had cut his hair with a Flobee. He looked like a young and Swedish Rod Stewart. It makes me happy to see so many content and successful people who look terrible. It continuously reinforces how we Americans are too concerned with how we look.
* Yesterday, a small Swedish child (about Janie's age) yelled at me on the bus. She was accompanied by her father and younger brother. While her father was busy attaching the stroller to the bus rail, she hopped up on the seat next to me and started loudly saying something. And by "loudly", I mean that other people turned around to see the commotion. I have no idea what she wanted, but she was obviously disgruntled. Her father came and sat down with the little boy in the seat across the row from us—but this did not placate the little girl. A few seconds later, she shrieked and slapped her hand down on the book I was trying to read. Thankfully, her father grabbed her and pulled her over to sit on his lap. It was an interesting exchange to say the least. With adults, I feel that I can adequately apologize for not speaking the language with hand motions, shrugged shoulders, and a smile. Not so with small children.
* I have further designed a plan to woo my gentleman of choice. More details to follow…
* When I transferred all of my music over from my PC to my laptop, I seem to have overlooked the CD with the "E" music. I am sorely missing my Etta James, and who knows what other jewels have been left in Bethesda? I will definitely be on the lookout for that missing CD when I'm back in November.
So it's 7:16 p.m. and Roya isn't back yet. At what point do I find the police and ask them to start searching the water for floating bodies? Unfortunately, my mobile phone has run out of minutes on its pre-paid calling card, so I can't call her. Tomorrow, I'll go buy another phone card and run by the ATM again, so that I can take out enough money to pay my rent. I've decided to skip out on the local bank account and just pay rent in cash—everything else can be done by Internet and Visa (oh Visa, I bow before thee). At least, that's my plan for now. Once I've had a chance to sit down and look over my bank account and exchange rates, I may decide that I'm being ripped off during the dollar/kronar conversion. Not that there's much choice—all the money will have to be converted at some point, I suppose.
Classes start tomorrow at 8:30 a.m. and run until noon. I'm a little miffed that classes begin so early (starting Wednesday they will begin at 8:15 a.m.!!) I didn't sign up for graduate school to be getting up at 7 a.m., I can tell you that. In fact, I believe a general principle in life should be that your alarm clock should never be set for classes any earlier than they would be set for work.
On that note, I should get back to reading my book. I'm feeling a little behind my classmates on The Natural Step philosophy, on which this program is based. Guess I'll be getting up to speed in the next few weeks, because I heard a rumor the first exam is on September 19th!
Update: Altina is her name. And Roya's alive and back, and also carrying a mattress.
Posted by madchen at 11:15 PM | Comments (0)August 21, 2004
Pigeons
In all my twenty-six years, few experiences have seriously tested my mental and emotional fortitude. Climbing Mt. Fuji while suffering from altitude sickness and asthma was at the top of the list—until today, where a new incident now threatens to displace it. But first, let me recap my day so far.
After leaving the café, I strolled back to Höglands Park and found a seat on a bench. I found my place in Into Africa: The Epic Adventures of Stanley and Livingstone and was quickly engrossed. I spent the next couple hours reading and enjoying the sunshine, and also observing the people in the park. There was a stand set up for Svengis Hunndag, which I take to mean Swedish Dogs (and to prove my point, there were dogs aplenty). They appeared to be providing information on how to adopt dogs, and how to keep them healthy. There was one wooly sheepdog-like animal that was particularly cute, but also extremely loud—choosing to bark every other second and riling up all the other dogs as they passed by.
I was also struck by all the children running around on the playground equipment. They were mostly accompanied by their fathers (many of whom belonged to the attractive Viking strain), who seemed to delight in watching them go down the slide and around the merry-go-round. Sigh. It was very charming.
About noon it got cloudy so I packed up and hopped the bus home. Now, I would like to retract my earlier criticisms about the apartment. On further reflection, it isn't so bad—and it even feels like it might be "home"—once the furniture arrives. I had a sandwich (ham and cheese again), chips and salsa, and a nectarine for lunch—quite yummy if I do say so myself. While making the sandwich I discovered that a thawed tomato and orange are not fit for human consumption, but are instead reduced to pulpy masses. And so the $3 tomato and $1.50 orange went in the trash.
After lunch I continued reading my book. All was quiet for a couple minutes when I heard it: the sound of cooing pigeons.
Now, many of you know that my greatest fear is birds. I may have mentioned something about this phobia in an earlier post. But I would like to again emphasize how much I loathe and despise birds—for their filth, their ability to peck your eyes out, and their overall evil nature. I seriously would rather touch an electric eel than touch a bird. So keeping that in mind, please imagine my horror to hear cooing.
I had shut the windows before going out this morning, so I was pretty sure they weren't in the house. I walked through the kitchen out to the balcony, where I found two pigeons sitting on the ledge and making their atrocious noises. I clapped my hands sharply, and they flew away—but not before casting malevolent looks my way. I breathed a sigh of relief and started to walk back to the safety of my room when I happened to look down. And then I saw it:
A dead pigeon.
Now—this was no ordinary dead pigeon. Oh no. This was an abnormally large pigeon that was lying on my balcony in a pool of its own blood with its eyes pecked out. My best guess is that it flew into the kitchen window and broke its neck, and then other birds came to feast on its corpse (see how evil they are?).
I almost threw up my lunch upon seeing this gruesome sight. It was several of my worst fears together:
* There was a bird on my balcony.
* It was dead.
* It had no eyes.
* It was in a pool of blood.
* There were other scavenger birds just waiting to peck my eyes out.
* I could call no one for help.
I briefly considered all the options.
* Could I push the bird over the balcony, thus making it someone else's problem? No— the space between the balcony and the walls was too narrow to fit the carcass between. Moreover, the walls of the balcony would require that I pick up the bird to throw it over.
* Could I wait until Monday, when I could potentially contact my landlord for help? No—the other birds were hovering nearby, eager to get another chance at the corpse. I couldn't live for another two days knowing it was being scavenged just feet from where I was sleeping. Additionally, this would prevent me from opening any windows on that side of the apartment.
* Could I solicit help from a neighbor? Perhaps—although I haven't met any neighbors on my floor, there are always men hanging out in the backyard, or lounging in their bird-free balconies (lucky bastards). I perused the selection of available men. The only ones outside were a couple of Middle Eastern gentlemen who I "met" the day before, when they said what I assume to be inappropriate things as I walked to the grocery store. I wasn't about to invite them up to my apartment, no matter how bad the bird situation got.
* Could I take the bird to the trash myself? Are you kidding me? Seriously, are you kidding? It's a dead, bloody, eye-less bird! And I have no implements to help me get this mutilated enemy off the balcony, down 5 flights of stairs, and into the garbage bin a half block away.
I began to reconsider inviting strangers into my apartment. But then—inspiration! I decided to grit my teeth, clench my gag reflex, and do it myself.
I took some of the heavy-duty plastic wrap from the packaging of my temporary bed and the box from my hair dryer. I went out to the balcony, spread the plastic wrap on the floor, and used the box to prod the bird onto the wrap. I should point out that the bird's head had somewhat dried to the floor, so it was no mean feat to get it onto the plastic. Again, the urge to vomit.
Once the bird was in the plastic wrap (and keeping a sharp eye out for other birds who might be watching), I wrapped it up and stuffed it into the plastic bag from the hairdryer-buying experience. Pinching the bag closed with the tiniest part of two fingers, I quickly trotted down the stairs, out the door, and over to the garbage bin. The dirty deed accomplished, I went back to the apartment and dumped several cups of water on the balcony to dilute the pool of blood (which, I assume, would attract even more birds—shudder). Unfortunately, I was only able to rinse away some of the blood, since part of it had dried to a crust. (Are you disgusted with this detail? Imagine how I felt!) And with no cleaning implements in the empty apartment, that's where the story ends. I thoroughly washed my hands and went back to my room. Somehow, I think that I won't be using that balcony much…
So while I'm revolted by this afternoon's proceedings, I'm also feeling quite confident in my ability to handle any of life's future problems. With that, I present this quotation that captures my current feelings.
Be grateful for the home you have, knowing that at this moment, all you have is all you need. Sarah Ban Breathnach American Author
Posted by madchen at 11:27 PM | Comments (0)August 20, 2004
Day Two, Part Two
Whew—only 3 p.m. and I'm exhausted.
Immediately after finishing my morning journal entry, I walked down to Willy:s (weird spelling, I know) and found a much-better equipped grocery store—hurrah! It's only about a 1/3 the size of an American supermarket, but I could at least recognize main staple items I might use in the future. I didn't buy anything, but instead hopped on the bus to campus, buying a monthly pass along the way. (For the low, low price of 330 kr (about $37) I can ride the bus an unlimited number of times per month—otherwise its 14 kr per ride).
At campus, I met several of the people who helped me yesterday. They called about my package, which you may recall I mailed on August 6th. As it contains all my bedding, I am rather anxious to get it. Unfortunately, it hasn't arrived yet, or else its lost (I'm voting for the former). I guess I'll have to make due with the temporary IKEA blanket and pillow for now. I'm a little irritated, because the USPS promised it would arrive in 4-10 business days, which has clearly expired. But I just have to remind myself that this whole trip is a great adventure, for which flexibility and patience are pre-requisites to keeping my sanity.
I also found out that furniture won't be arriving until Wednesday (another test of my patience), but they will be providing a starter kit for the kitchen. So if I can hold out on finger food until then, I'll be in much better shape.
In addition, I found out that my bath tub does need a shower curtain, but I'm on my own for that. I'm hoping that the furniture people will at least be able to provide the hardware, since right now there is no way to hang a curtain from the ceiling.
I briefly checked email, but didn't really have a chance to write anything, since the Swedish keyboard is frustratingly different from American ones, and I couldn't upload anything I had written on this computer. Figuring that one out will be a project for next week.
I jumped back on the bus and headed to the town center (henceforth referred to as Centrum), where I was bowled over by how freakishly adorable it all is. Seriously, it is almost too charming. There are cobblestone streets flanked by tiny shoppes (to call them shops isn't doing them justice). One side of the town rests against the Baltic Sea, and quaint bridges have been built to access other parts of the archipelago. The houses are all painted bright cheery colors (yellow and oranges seem to be most popular) and there are flowers blooming everywhere. There is a central park with pebble walkways, ice cream stands, and a tiny amphitheatre. Along the walk are tall hedges with seating cut into them, providing shade for pedestrians who want to sit for a bit.
I walked around the Centrum for a couple hours, managing to find an H&M, a drug store (where I bought a bath puff, making up for the one I bought on Tuesday, but accidentally left behind), and an amazing grocery/clothing/music/drug store (where I bought a much-needed hairdryer). I noticed I was starving around one, but couldn't make up my mind where to go. After another 20 minutes, I was ready to faint (still dehydrated, I think) so I ate lunch at a Chinese restaurant. I had a slightly strange lunch buffet, but was so glad to sit down and drink some water that it was totally worthwhile. Afterwards, I made my way back to the bus station and caught the #7 back to Willy:s, where I picked up some additional groceries (yay for sandwiches!).
I walked the giant hill back to my apartment (seriously, it's like a mountain) after deciding not to wait for the bus. Once home, I started to put away the groceries—realizing that there IS A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN THE TWO REFRIGERATORS!! The one I had set to really cold was, in fact, the refrigerator—and thus, the frozen pizza was frozen no more. The one I had set to kind of cold was the freezer—and my water, the tomato, and the orange were frozen solid. Have you ever knocked a frozen tomato and orange together? It's kind of amusing. I had to make myself stop after my fingers froze to the tomato and I had to run warm water over them.
I fixed the temperature settings and put away the groceries. Now I'm back in my empty, empty room, deciding whether to take a little nap or watch a movie. Maybe both? There's nothing really to do until tomorrow's BBQ. Between now and then, I have the town to myself.
Posted by madchen at 11:28 PM | Comments (0)Day Two
It's 9:06 a.m. on Friday morning and I'm home. Let me briefly recap my experiences yesterday.
I arrived at the train station in Karlskrona at approximately 1 p.m. (having switched trains in Kristianstad) to find that I was completely lost. I hauled my luggage back and forth a couple times (to the taxi stand—with no taxis, to the map of Karlskrona—with no "you are here" sign, back to the taxi stand—"Call 14880 for taxi", but no phone) before asking someone how to find a taxi. They had no idea (I think there was a language disconnect), but fortunately, a taxi pulled up at that moment and took me to Campus Grasvik, where I easily found the International Office.
The people at the International Office had no record of my name, no