Hey folks. I recognize that this blog is dangerously skirting the boundaries between "Study Abroad Blog" and "Stuff I Care About That No One Else Does Blog," so I'm going to make a concerted effort to revert more to the former.
The Swedes in the summer absolutely love their barbecues. There are two pits out back of my residence and they are usually occupied. I've already been to three, when I've had one throughout my entire time at BC this far.
I have exactly one month left here in this fair city, Uppsala. I was tempted to write a retrospective of my time thus far, but then what would I have to write about back in the States? Also, not too sound too studly, but my presence has been requested at one of Uppsala's many famous/infamous "corridor parties" so I don't have a whole lot of time. These are essentially the equivalent of a college dorm party, except more fun, more people, and you don't have to worry about R.A.'s. You just have to make sure if you are hosting that someone doesn't steal your toaster. Luckily or unfortunately – I haven't decided yet – I live in Eklundshof, where there are no corridors and, thus, few parties. The giant student housing development at Sernanders Väg in Flogsta, about 5 km from Eklundshof, is the usual host of these parties. There are many buildings there and they're all about 8 stories high, so needless to say, my three story building in the forests of Eklundshof is a little less lively.
I don't have too many plans for the month, as the majority of schoolwork has been positioned at the rear end of my stay here. Nevertheless, I found time to join up on a student booze cruise, called the "Sea Battle" to Tallinn, Estonia, USSR. I leave Monday and return Wednesday, so expect the next chapter in this, what will undoubtedly become a bestselling book, whenever I've recovered from that epic time.
Showing posts with label Sweden. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sweden. Show all posts
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Valborg
It really is hard to try to describe Valborg with words. Even my pictures don't really do it justice. As I like to say when my telling of a joke turns sour: "You had to be there." Nevertheless, I'm going to attempt to describe the wildest party I've ever been to.
The Swedes like to slap a 'K' in front of something and have it mean 'night before.' Accordingly, they call April 29 of every year Kvalborg. The day started innocently enough for me. For the first time since I've been in Sweden, I had two classes on one day. My first class ended at about 1:45, and as I had previously decided I didn't want to keep this mop anymore, I got my first haircut since leaving LA. The lady screwed up big time, so I did some editing with scissors when I got home after my second class. And by screwed up big time, I mean she tried to give me a typical Swedish haircut, but since I am not Swedish, nor can I pull of the Swedish look, it was bad. And it cost 200 kronor, or about $25.
I showered and donned my Arsenal jersey to head to Värmlands nation to watch the match. I was the only Arsenal fan, and as a result of their shocking performance, I received much ridicule. After drowning my sorrows – maybe this isn't adequate because the Man Utd fans drank as much as me – in Åbro and Tuborg cerveza, we searched for a club to celebrate Kvalborg at.
People had been lining up outside some of the nations at 1:00 that afternoon, so we didn't fancy our chances. But after running into a drunk friend wandering around the streets, we were finally able to gain entry into V-Dala nation. It was about 11:30. Given the early festivites of the next day, most Swedes had smartly retired for the evening, but being American, I had to prove my manliness to myself and stay out as late as possible.
At this point, I realized that wearing an Arsenal jersey in a club is a perfect dude magnet. No less than four dudes came up to me within the course of the evening to talk to me about Arsenal. My gay friend looked on jealously. But I digress.
The four, five, or six of us who were there (don't recall exactly) shared rounds, then at quarter to 3, decided we wanted MAX, the Swedish version of McDonald's. A ladyfriend was able to coax the bouncer to let us in for a burger and at 4:00, I passed out in bed.
I awoke at 7:30 am to phone calls asking where I was. Apparently, we were supposed to meet at 7:00 to watch the boat race on the river that started at 10:00. I reluctantly clawed myself out of bed, made some sandwiches for what guaranteed to be a long day, and had a cup of tea to wake up. I got down to the river by 8:30, accompanied by three turkey/salami sandwiches, two bottles of chardonnay (fake champagne), one bottle of champagne, four cans of beer, and some water. Still intoxicated from the previous evening, I narrowly avoided a hangover and was able to begin drinking straightaway. By the beginning of the boat race, I had ripped through one bottle of chardonnay and was beginning to drink the champagne.
The boat race is a recent Uppsala tradition. Students spend the few days before building boats out of mostly styrofoam, four or five to a vessel. On Valborg, the boats begin a procession down the river at 10:00, watched by many onlookers, and attempt to navigate the series of rapids on the river. Of course, everyone only cheered if one capsized, rather than if a boat proved its structural integrity. There were about 60 boats in all.
The day begins to blur at about this point. We headed to the Ekonomikum park to hang out with a few thousand Swedes, exchange students, old people, kids looking to score some beer, and just as many hot dog stands. There was a band playing and everything was merry. We stayed there a few hours, then headed to a Champagnegalopp at one of the nations. Unfortunately, I have little memory of this, and I don't think many others do either, but it basically consists of people spraying each other with champagne.
After the Champagnegalopps, everyone heads back home to pass out for a few hours or to have a barbecue if still alive. We headed to Flogsta, the largest student residence, for a barbecue on the roof of a building. As the sun went down and it got colder, we headed into the common room of someone's apartment with the intention of prepartying for the clubs that night. Unfortunately, as too often happens, the preparty ended up being the party, and no one could muster the balance, strength, or initiative (apart from manly me, of course) to go out. I was disappointed at the weakness of my friends, but the club lines were too long anyway. I had also had a great deal of fun for that 36 hours.
Shockingly, I did not have a hangover on May 1, nor have I gotten sick.
The Swedes like to slap a 'K' in front of something and have it mean 'night before.' Accordingly, they call April 29 of every year Kvalborg. The day started innocently enough for me. For the first time since I've been in Sweden, I had two classes on one day. My first class ended at about 1:45, and as I had previously decided I didn't want to keep this mop anymore, I got my first haircut since leaving LA. The lady screwed up big time, so I did some editing with scissors when I got home after my second class. And by screwed up big time, I mean she tried to give me a typical Swedish haircut, but since I am not Swedish, nor can I pull of the Swedish look, it was bad. And it cost 200 kronor, or about $25.
I showered and donned my Arsenal jersey to head to Värmlands nation to watch the match. I was the only Arsenal fan, and as a result of their shocking performance, I received much ridicule. After drowning my sorrows – maybe this isn't adequate because the Man Utd fans drank as much as me – in Åbro and Tuborg cerveza, we searched for a club to celebrate Kvalborg at.
People had been lining up outside some of the nations at 1:00 that afternoon, so we didn't fancy our chances. But after running into a drunk friend wandering around the streets, we were finally able to gain entry into V-Dala nation. It was about 11:30. Given the early festivites of the next day, most Swedes had smartly retired for the evening, but being American, I had to prove my manliness to myself and stay out as late as possible.
At this point, I realized that wearing an Arsenal jersey in a club is a perfect dude magnet. No less than four dudes came up to me within the course of the evening to talk to me about Arsenal. My gay friend looked on jealously. But I digress.
The four, five, or six of us who were there (don't recall exactly) shared rounds, then at quarter to 3, decided we wanted MAX, the Swedish version of McDonald's. A ladyfriend was able to coax the bouncer to let us in for a burger and at 4:00, I passed out in bed.
I awoke at 7:30 am to phone calls asking where I was. Apparently, we were supposed to meet at 7:00 to watch the boat race on the river that started at 10:00. I reluctantly clawed myself out of bed, made some sandwiches for what guaranteed to be a long day, and had a cup of tea to wake up. I got down to the river by 8:30, accompanied by three turkey/salami sandwiches, two bottles of chardonnay (fake champagne), one bottle of champagne, four cans of beer, and some water. Still intoxicated from the previous evening, I narrowly avoided a hangover and was able to begin drinking straightaway. By the beginning of the boat race, I had ripped through one bottle of chardonnay and was beginning to drink the champagne.
The boat race is a recent Uppsala tradition. Students spend the few days before building boats out of mostly styrofoam, four or five to a vessel. On Valborg, the boats begin a procession down the river at 10:00, watched by many onlookers, and attempt to navigate the series of rapids on the river. Of course, everyone only cheered if one capsized, rather than if a boat proved its structural integrity. There were about 60 boats in all.
The day begins to blur at about this point. We headed to the Ekonomikum park to hang out with a few thousand Swedes, exchange students, old people, kids looking to score some beer, and just as many hot dog stands. There was a band playing and everything was merry. We stayed there a few hours, then headed to a Champagnegalopp at one of the nations. Unfortunately, I have little memory of this, and I don't think many others do either, but it basically consists of people spraying each other with champagne.
After the Champagnegalopps, everyone heads back home to pass out for a few hours or to have a barbecue if still alive. We headed to Flogsta, the largest student residence, for a barbecue on the roof of a building. As the sun went down and it got colder, we headed into the common room of someone's apartment with the intention of prepartying for the clubs that night. Unfortunately, as too often happens, the preparty ended up being the party, and no one could muster the balance, strength, or initiative (apart from manly me, of course) to go out. I was disappointed at the weakness of my friends, but the club lines were too long anyway. I had also had a great deal of fun for that 36 hours.
Shockingly, I did not have a hangover on May 1, nor have I gotten sick.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Swedish Love
Don't get any ideas about this entry from its title. I merely mean that I'm going to be giving the Swedish, as my generous hosts, a little time on my blog. It is a good time to do this, since I've been here for awhile now. I also promised you I'd write before I leave for Oslo on Saturday.
What are my feelings right now, you ask? Well I haven't felt homesick since the first week here, but I would obviously love to see some BC or L.A. friends. This can wait until summer or fall, though. Right now, I am in Sweden.
Before I get to my Swedish brothers and sisters, I have to go on a small rant about something in the US. Forgive me.
Uppsala University has been disorganized, to say the least. There is no central location to pick classes; it's all by department or professor. However, Boston College should be absolutely ashamed of its treatment of exchange students (or at least me). With its infinite e-mailing lists and technology, surely it could sift through the garbage that it dumps in my inbox. Every day I check my e-mail, and I'm flooded with information on internship interviews that take place tomorrow or information about studying abroad next fall. All the information I want to get – either about housing or class selection for the fall – either doesn't get to me or gets lost in the dump. Seriously, BC? And to add insult to grievance, they have the gall to tell me that my inbox is 90% full. Now the third sentence in this worthless paragraph made quite a full-bodied statement, and therefore, I must back it up with something more important (money) than a petty e-mail rant. Swedish students attend Uppsala University for FREE. Yes, no money is required to get a degree, and I can't imagine that BC has to pay much to send me here. So why on earth am I – and by I, I mean not I – paying full BC tuition. Disgraceful.
Okay, now back to a more insightful and pleasant topic.
Swedish Personality
The personality of most the Swedish I've encountered has been slightly off-putting. They are shy and tend to keep to themselves, which in the US is seen as arrogant or selfish. I constantly have to remind myself that this guy or girl isn't mean or not fond of me (catch the double negative?), or maybe they are. When I do speak to a Swedish cashier or attendant, they are always very nice and helpful, and when I get to know a Swede, they are friendly, if not more so, than most Americans.
Swedish Language
In my life so far, I've been able to pick up a decent amount of Spanish and had a relatively easy time speaking the bit of German that I learned freshman year. Swedish is extremely difficult to learn, to pronounce, and to understand. I cannot just read a word how it looks and have a Swede understand me. I cannot understand anything in Swedish. There are 9 vowels: a, e, i, o, u, y, å, ä, ö; each has a distinct sound. The rhythm of spoken Swedish is difficult to get down. It doesn't make it any easier to learn that I can get by EASILY speaking just English. Everyone knows English.
Swedish Stores
The Swedish supermarket is very much like American supermarkets. The Willy's supermarket near my residence even just introduced a fresh-baked bread section. I guess the only major differences are that you have to buy plastic grocery bags if you need them and that you have to bag your own items – hardly illogical. The Swedish also love their lines/queues. Most of the time, you must take a number to be served, such as at the Apoteket (state-run drugstore) and Claus Ohlson (hardware store).
Swedish Government
Well, I'm going to be honest. I don't know much about the Swedish government that has its reputation for being socialist and a welfare state. I do know, from my Swedish History class, that the welfare system is crumbling due to complaints about high taxes and stagnation of the Swedish economy (not just in these times). How many Swedish businesses do you know outside of IKEA or H&M?
Swedish Fish/Meatballs
Okay, to clear this up once and for all, I have NOT been able to find Swedish Fish, and if they do exist in Sweden, they are most certainly NOT called Swedish Fish. As for meatballs, EVERYONE eats meatballs. Most students purchase frozen meatballs and defrost them with gravy and potatoes. I bought some and put them in with pasta. Delicious.
Swedish Weather
Everyone asks me how cold it is here. Yes, by definition Sweden is cold. However, I actually enjoy the climate here in Uppsala more than that in Boston. It is a lot less windy – therefore, no windchill – and the temperature is more temperate (capische?). It never really dips below 25˚F and stays nice and below 40˚. Not terrible. There are a lot less sunny days though. I think right now, there has been 5 cloudy days in a row. Before that I was in Copenhagen, so I don't know.
Small Problems (come on, did you really think I wouldn't complain at all?)
Problem 1: The important webpages (Google, YouTube, and Blogger.com, of course) load in Swedish by default. This gets rather annoying, but I know the Swedish word for preferences now, inställningar.
Problem 2: I can't find any of the typical American drugs in Sweden. Nyquil? Nope. Tylenol? Nope. Cocaine? Nope. Okay, but seriously, I'm not addicted to any of the three, nor have I ever used the latter, but it would be nice to know they are there. I've heard you can get most by prescription, but I don't want to see a doctor. Thanks, Mom, for sending that Nyquil.
Problem 3: The infamous Systembolaget, or state-run liquor store. Thankfully, one can qualify at the ripe old age of 20 to purchase alcohol from here, but the prices are outrageous. In Copenhagen, I paid about half as much for a bottle of rum as I'd have to pay here. In addition, there are no convenient six-, or thirty-packs of beer. I go to a pub most of the time anyway, so this doesn't bother me too much.
Problem 4: Daylight. This one is killer. My biological clock is in ruins at the moment. When I first arrived, it was still rather dark at 8 am. Today, I woke up at 5 am for some odd reason and there was more daylight than at 8 am before. The sun rises earlier each day, so I think I'm going to have to purchase some blackout curtains for my room. Otherwise, I'll be waking up at 4 pretty soon.
That's it for my Swedish culture lesson. I need to go to battle with the laundry machines again (see here), and I leave for Oslo, which I hear is the most expensive city this side of Jupiter, tomorrow. Other than spending my future children's college funds, it should be fun.
Song: "All My Loving" – Jim Sturgess (Across the Universe soundtrack)
What are my feelings right now, you ask? Well I haven't felt homesick since the first week here, but I would obviously love to see some BC or L.A. friends. This can wait until summer or fall, though. Right now, I am in Sweden.
Before I get to my Swedish brothers and sisters, I have to go on a small rant about something in the US. Forgive me.
Uppsala University has been disorganized, to say the least. There is no central location to pick classes; it's all by department or professor. However, Boston College should be absolutely ashamed of its treatment of exchange students (or at least me). With its infinite e-mailing lists and technology, surely it could sift through the garbage that it dumps in my inbox. Every day I check my e-mail, and I'm flooded with information on internship interviews that take place tomorrow or information about studying abroad next fall. All the information I want to get – either about housing or class selection for the fall – either doesn't get to me or gets lost in the dump. Seriously, BC? And to add insult to grievance, they have the gall to tell me that my inbox is 90% full. Now the third sentence in this worthless paragraph made quite a full-bodied statement, and therefore, I must back it up with something more important (money) than a petty e-mail rant. Swedish students attend Uppsala University for FREE. Yes, no money is required to get a degree, and I can't imagine that BC has to pay much to send me here. So why on earth am I – and by I, I mean not I – paying full BC tuition. Disgraceful.
Okay, now back to a more insightful and pleasant topic.
Swedish Personality
The personality of most the Swedish I've encountered has been slightly off-putting. They are shy and tend to keep to themselves, which in the US is seen as arrogant or selfish. I constantly have to remind myself that this guy or girl isn't mean or not fond of me (catch the double negative?), or maybe they are. When I do speak to a Swedish cashier or attendant, they are always very nice and helpful, and when I get to know a Swede, they are friendly, if not more so, than most Americans.
Swedish Language
In my life so far, I've been able to pick up a decent amount of Spanish and had a relatively easy time speaking the bit of German that I learned freshman year. Swedish is extremely difficult to learn, to pronounce, and to understand. I cannot just read a word how it looks and have a Swede understand me. I cannot understand anything in Swedish. There are 9 vowels: a, e, i, o, u, y, å, ä, ö; each has a distinct sound. The rhythm of spoken Swedish is difficult to get down. It doesn't make it any easier to learn that I can get by EASILY speaking just English. Everyone knows English.
Swedish Stores
The Swedish supermarket is very much like American supermarkets. The Willy's supermarket near my residence even just introduced a fresh-baked bread section. I guess the only major differences are that you have to buy plastic grocery bags if you need them and that you have to bag your own items – hardly illogical. The Swedish also love their lines/queues. Most of the time, you must take a number to be served, such as at the Apoteket (state-run drugstore) and Claus Ohlson (hardware store).
Swedish Government
Well, I'm going to be honest. I don't know much about the Swedish government that has its reputation for being socialist and a welfare state. I do know, from my Swedish History class, that the welfare system is crumbling due to complaints about high taxes and stagnation of the Swedish economy (not just in these times). How many Swedish businesses do you know outside of IKEA or H&M?
Swedish Fish/Meatballs
Okay, to clear this up once and for all, I have NOT been able to find Swedish Fish, and if they do exist in Sweden, they are most certainly NOT called Swedish Fish. As for meatballs, EVERYONE eats meatballs. Most students purchase frozen meatballs and defrost them with gravy and potatoes. I bought some and put them in with pasta. Delicious.
Swedish Weather
Everyone asks me how cold it is here. Yes, by definition Sweden is cold. However, I actually enjoy the climate here in Uppsala more than that in Boston. It is a lot less windy – therefore, no windchill – and the temperature is more temperate (capische?). It never really dips below 25˚F and stays nice and below 40˚. Not terrible. There are a lot less sunny days though. I think right now, there has been 5 cloudy days in a row. Before that I was in Copenhagen, so I don't know.
Small Problems (come on, did you really think I wouldn't complain at all?)
Problem 1: The important webpages (Google, YouTube, and Blogger.com, of course) load in Swedish by default. This gets rather annoying, but I know the Swedish word for preferences now, inställningar.
Problem 2: I can't find any of the typical American drugs in Sweden. Nyquil? Nope. Tylenol? Nope. Cocaine? Nope. Okay, but seriously, I'm not addicted to any of the three, nor have I ever used the latter, but it would be nice to know they are there. I've heard you can get most by prescription, but I don't want to see a doctor. Thanks, Mom, for sending that Nyquil.
Problem 3: The infamous Systembolaget, or state-run liquor store. Thankfully, one can qualify at the ripe old age of 20 to purchase alcohol from here, but the prices are outrageous. In Copenhagen, I paid about half as much for a bottle of rum as I'd have to pay here. In addition, there are no convenient six-, or thirty-packs of beer. I go to a pub most of the time anyway, so this doesn't bother me too much.
Problem 4: Daylight. This one is killer. My biological clock is in ruins at the moment. When I first arrived, it was still rather dark at 8 am. Today, I woke up at 5 am for some odd reason and there was more daylight than at 8 am before. The sun rises earlier each day, so I think I'm going to have to purchase some blackout curtains for my room. Otherwise, I'll be waking up at 4 pretty soon.
That's it for my Swedish culture lesson. I need to go to battle with the laundry machines again (see here), and I leave for Oslo, which I hear is the most expensive city this side of Jupiter, tomorrow. Other than spending my future children's college funds, it should be fun.
Song: "All My Loving" – Jim Sturgess (Across the Universe soundtrack)
Monday, February 23, 2009
In the Arctic
I took my first real trip (i.e. not to nearby Stockholm) of my time in Sweden. After slaving all night through a paper, I walked to Uppsala Centralstation for a ride to Stockholm-Arlanda Airport. There we embarked on a plane to Kiruna, in northern Sweden, which, according to Wikipedia, is in the Arctic Circle.
The flight lasted for one hour and thirty minutes. The descent was a bit nerve-racking to be honest, as heavy winds tossed the plane quite a bit and called for some rapid adjustments from the pilot. After landing on the runway, the plane pulled off to the side where we disembarked via stairs, immediately hit by a wall of cold air. According to the locals, this was a warm day, though my skin told my brain otherwise. I believe it was about -17˚C, or about 1˚F. Apparently, the day before it had been -33˚C, or -27˚F. Needless to say, we were all really disappointed about missing those temperatures, which, even Satan would agree, would have frozen over hell.
In any case, the lodging company picked us up at Kiruna Airport and whisked us away to the local ICA supermarket and, of course, the System Bolaget (the state-run liquor store). The driver/coordinator then drove us to our cabin, which I must say, was very nice. She warned us, though, that there was a limited supply of warm water, which, judging by the end of the trip, we took to mean we shouldn't take showers.
I bundled up in two pairs of socks, my winter coat, two pairs of gloves, and my hat, and walked to the nearby frozen lake. As I started to snap pictures, I suddenly had the urge to throw myself into a fire, but I took a more mediated course of action and simply walked back inside. Damn, it was cold. I'm from Los Angeles, for God's sake.
We had planned to take a dogsledding tour the evening of our arrival, but we were phoned and told that the previous evening, some of the dog teams had run off after some reindeer and were unavailable to run us on our tour. Skål (pronounced skole), we said, and consigned our evening to utilizing our System Bolaget booty. I should add, that after much anticipation, we finally caught a glimpse of the Northern Lights, a green streak in the sky. It wasn't as luminous as we had all hoped, but it was still an awesome sight.
We awoke, most of us in a ethanol-induced haze, and readied for the long day ahead. At 9:00, a guide picked us up in a van and took us to Camp Alta, the headquarters of the lodging company which rented us our cabin. They gave us full warm and waterproof jumpsuits, scarves, helmets, goggles, and boots, and walked us to snowmobiles. I had driven a snowmobile before, but for the others, it must have been slightly disconcerting when the guide instructed them solely by pointing at three locations on the snowmobile and saying "brakes, gas, stop." Two to a pod, we sped off towards the Ice Hotel. I must say, driving a snowmobile is an absolute blast.
After about an hour drive, we came to the world-famous (or maybe not) Ice Hotel. It is a hotel constructed, with the exception of doors and bedding, completely out of ice. Each room was designed by different artists, and after paying a fee of 175 SEK, we saw all of their work. Some of the designs were incredible, and hopefully, I'll be able to throw some pictures of them on here. Unfortunately, the Kiruna Absolut Icebar did not open until it was time for us to leave, but it definitely helped avoid some nasty snowmobile accidents.
As my snowmobile partner was scared to drive for one reason or another, I was one of the only in our group that was fortunate enough to be able to drive both legs of the journey. Thanks for that. We returned to Camp Alta after a short delay caused by, what we think, someone falling off a snowmobile. There, the guides prepared a wonderful, wonderful lunch of shredded reindeer meat and potatoes. If not for the meal being outside in the snowing, freezing, windy weather, it would have been an incredible hour. The smoke from the cooking fire kept blowing in my eyes as well. I can't complain though – the meal and subsequent coffee were excellent.
The guide drove us back to the cabin for some napping and warming time. At 17:30, another guide picked us up for our dogsled tour. Again, we were supplied with warm clothes, and four to a sled, we mushed off. The guide offered us some interesting insight into the life of the Kiruna people. He – probably his mid twenties – informed us that most of his friends moved off to the big cities in Sweden as soon as they graduated from high school, and that, despite this, he has chosen to stay in Kiruna because of his love for nature. He also mentioned that it was an unusually warm night, adding that he only had dressed in one layer.
We stopped at a warming hut after a couple miles and were fed coffee and pastries, then returned back to the camp. The guide drove us back to our cabin, and we spent the remainder of the evening consuming the remainder of our System Bolaget treasures and trampolining.
After an unfortunately lazy Sunday – I drank coffee, tea, coffee, took pictures, got in a snow wrestling match, drank coffee, then packed – which could have been utilized ice fishing or bathing in the sauna, we departed for the airport. I ate a reindeer sandwich, then hopped on the plane back to Stockholm. All in all, it was a very fun trip. I'm looking forward to my next trip, to visit Matt Reardon and friends in Copenhagen.
Shocking, it is cloudy again this morning in Uppsala.
The flight lasted for one hour and thirty minutes. The descent was a bit nerve-racking to be honest, as heavy winds tossed the plane quite a bit and called for some rapid adjustments from the pilot. After landing on the runway, the plane pulled off to the side where we disembarked via stairs, immediately hit by a wall of cold air. According to the locals, this was a warm day, though my skin told my brain otherwise. I believe it was about -17˚C, or about 1˚F. Apparently, the day before it had been -33˚C, or -27˚F. Needless to say, we were all really disappointed about missing those temperatures, which, even Satan would agree, would have frozen over hell.
In any case, the lodging company picked us up at Kiruna Airport and whisked us away to the local ICA supermarket and, of course, the System Bolaget (the state-run liquor store). The driver/coordinator then drove us to our cabin, which I must say, was very nice. She warned us, though, that there was a limited supply of warm water, which, judging by the end of the trip, we took to mean we shouldn't take showers.
I bundled up in two pairs of socks, my winter coat, two pairs of gloves, and my hat, and walked to the nearby frozen lake. As I started to snap pictures, I suddenly had the urge to throw myself into a fire, but I took a more mediated course of action and simply walked back inside. Damn, it was cold. I'm from Los Angeles, for God's sake.
We had planned to take a dogsledding tour the evening of our arrival, but we were phoned and told that the previous evening, some of the dog teams had run off after some reindeer and were unavailable to run us on our tour. Skål (pronounced skole), we said, and consigned our evening to utilizing our System Bolaget booty. I should add, that after much anticipation, we finally caught a glimpse of the Northern Lights, a green streak in the sky. It wasn't as luminous as we had all hoped, but it was still an awesome sight.
We awoke, most of us in a ethanol-induced haze, and readied for the long day ahead. At 9:00, a guide picked us up in a van and took us to Camp Alta, the headquarters of the lodging company which rented us our cabin. They gave us full warm and waterproof jumpsuits, scarves, helmets, goggles, and boots, and walked us to snowmobiles. I had driven a snowmobile before, but for the others, it must have been slightly disconcerting when the guide instructed them solely by pointing at three locations on the snowmobile and saying "brakes, gas, stop." Two to a pod, we sped off towards the Ice Hotel. I must say, driving a snowmobile is an absolute blast.
After about an hour drive, we came to the world-famous (or maybe not) Ice Hotel. It is a hotel constructed, with the exception of doors and bedding, completely out of ice. Each room was designed by different artists, and after paying a fee of 175 SEK, we saw all of their work. Some of the designs were incredible, and hopefully, I'll be able to throw some pictures of them on here. Unfortunately, the Kiruna Absolut Icebar did not open until it was time for us to leave, but it definitely helped avoid some nasty snowmobile accidents.
As my snowmobile partner was scared to drive for one reason or another, I was one of the only in our group that was fortunate enough to be able to drive both legs of the journey. Thanks for that. We returned to Camp Alta after a short delay caused by, what we think, someone falling off a snowmobile. There, the guides prepared a wonderful, wonderful lunch of shredded reindeer meat and potatoes. If not for the meal being outside in the snowing, freezing, windy weather, it would have been an incredible hour. The smoke from the cooking fire kept blowing in my eyes as well. I can't complain though – the meal and subsequent coffee were excellent.
The guide drove us back to the cabin for some napping and warming time. At 17:30, another guide picked us up for our dogsled tour. Again, we were supplied with warm clothes, and four to a sled, we mushed off. The guide offered us some interesting insight into the life of the Kiruna people. He – probably his mid twenties – informed us that most of his friends moved off to the big cities in Sweden as soon as they graduated from high school, and that, despite this, he has chosen to stay in Kiruna because of his love for nature. He also mentioned that it was an unusually warm night, adding that he only had dressed in one layer.
We stopped at a warming hut after a couple miles and were fed coffee and pastries, then returned back to the camp. The guide drove us back to our cabin, and we spent the remainder of the evening consuming the remainder of our System Bolaget treasures and trampolining.
After an unfortunately lazy Sunday – I drank coffee, tea, coffee, took pictures, got in a snow wrestling match, drank coffee, then packed – which could have been utilized ice fishing or bathing in the sauna, we departed for the airport. I ate a reindeer sandwich, then hopped on the plane back to Stockholm. All in all, it was a very fun trip. I'm looking forward to my next trip, to visit Matt Reardon and friends in Copenhagen.
Shocking, it is cloudy again this morning in Uppsala.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Destruction and Subsequent Recovery of Dignity
I promised some of you I would post the story of what transpired Friday evening, the night of 13 February (Blimey! How appropriate it was a Friday the 13th!). But for fear of future background checks and possibly younger children, for whom I am supposed to be setting an example, reading this entry, I'll condense the events of the evening into two piece of advice. 1) Never drink anything described by friends as "paint." 2) Never get cocky about riding a bike. In any case, some scratches and a lost phone resulted. I'll leave it at that to spare myself any further loss of class.
Now to, as I quite appropriately described, the "subsequent recovery of dignity." It was nice to have Matt Reardon and his friends visiting from Copenhagen Business School, and although certain circumstances from the previous night – possibly having something to do with the above – precluded quality hanging out time on Friday, we did walk around Uppsala for awhile on Saturday morning. We witnessed some snowboarding on the hill below the Uppsala castle (along with collecting some free hotdogs, Red Bull, and Jägermeister apparel).
Then it was time for the highlight of my studying abroad. The Reccegasque, or reception dinner, for all new members of the nations. The new members first met at their respective nations dressed in their formal attire (I wore a charcoal suit with a blue tie) for a walk behind the nations's flags to the main university building. The assembly there was less-than-enthralling as it was conducted entirely in Swedish (with the exception of a performance by a big band of a silly song whose title and theme I can't currently recall). We members of Värmlands nation then walked back to the nation itself, where we (I'd say about 70 of us) hung our coats and went into the upstairs lobby for champagne. At 18:00 (6:00p, American style), we proceeded into the dining room.
We were seated randomly in an arrangement of alternating genders (i.e. m-f-m-f), with I being the exception to that rule, being surrounded by ladies. Gasque code requires each male to pay the most attention to the female at his right and each female to obviously spend most time with the male at her left. After the Inspector of the nation (think faculty advisor, except inspector is a full time job) was seated, the new members followed suit.
From there, we indulged in a three course meal (cheesecake and caviar followed by broiled reindeer and scalloped potatoes and ending in a dessert of white chocolate mousse and raspberry "something-or-other"), sipped on snaps (yes, spelled correctly – a traditional Swedish liquor), red wine, beer, and Bailey's, sang drinking songs in Swedish (again, one was in English), and enjoyed speeches by the nation's curators (administrators) and Inspector and performances by the various Värmlands nation ensembles. Most notably were a very funny performance by sketch comedy group Spex and an unbelievably outstanding performance by the nation's choir. The latter received a standing ovation.
Swedish (Svenska) is a very difficult language to speak, but singing in Swedish is far more difficult. Nevertheless, as the alcohol flowed, the English-speakers in the room were more willing to attempt to follow along. The only song sang more than once was a thank you song to all performers, who in turn had their own part to play in this song.
After meeting new people and thoroughly enjoying their company, as well as the new found traditions and belonging – approximately 23:00 – we left for the after party at Smålands nation. This, in my opinion, left something to be desired, but I personally had already had an immense amount of enjoyment from the evening.
Today, I booked trips to Oslo and London. I'm very much looking forward to the travels I have planned. This weekend, some of my new friends and I head to Kiruna in northern Sweden. Hopefully, we will see the Northern Lights, but if nothing else, we'll experience a new part of the country we are studying in, a definite must in my opinion.
And Boston College again shocked the world (or the small fraction of it that care) by beating #5 Duke in yesterday's men's basketball game at Conte Forum. I was following along on ESPN Gamecast, but when it was a one-point game with 2+ minutes left, I'll admit I couldn't watch. Though, minutes later I refreshed the page and we had won by 6! BC will hopefully make the tournament after a year's absence! Well done, boys.
And Arsenal. I must just say, it was an absolute delight to see Eduardo playing again. He decided to upstage his own return, though, by scoring twice. What a class act. Arsenal walked all over Cardiff, 4-0. It could have been much worse had van Persie and Bendtner converted easy chances, Cardiff goalkeeper Heaton not been playing out of his head.
Song: "Cherub Rock" – Smashing Pumpkins
Now to, as I quite appropriately described, the "subsequent recovery of dignity." It was nice to have Matt Reardon and his friends visiting from Copenhagen Business School, and although certain circumstances from the previous night – possibly having something to do with the above – precluded quality hanging out time on Friday, we did walk around Uppsala for awhile on Saturday morning. We witnessed some snowboarding on the hill below the Uppsala castle (along with collecting some free hotdogs, Red Bull, and Jägermeister apparel).
Then it was time for the highlight of my studying abroad. The Reccegasque, or reception dinner, for all new members of the nations. The new members first met at their respective nations dressed in their formal attire (I wore a charcoal suit with a blue tie) for a walk behind the nations's flags to the main university building. The assembly there was less-than-enthralling as it was conducted entirely in Swedish (with the exception of a performance by a big band of a silly song whose title and theme I can't currently recall). We members of Värmlands nation then walked back to the nation itself, where we (I'd say about 70 of us) hung our coats and went into the upstairs lobby for champagne. At 18:00 (6:00p, American style), we proceeded into the dining room.
We were seated randomly in an arrangement of alternating genders (i.e. m-f-m-f), with I being the exception to that rule, being surrounded by ladies. Gasque code requires each male to pay the most attention to the female at his right and each female to obviously spend most time with the male at her left. After the Inspector of the nation (think faculty advisor, except inspector is a full time job) was seated, the new members followed suit.
From there, we indulged in a three course meal (cheesecake and caviar followed by broiled reindeer and scalloped potatoes and ending in a dessert of white chocolate mousse and raspberry "something-or-other"), sipped on snaps (yes, spelled correctly – a traditional Swedish liquor), red wine, beer, and Bailey's, sang drinking songs in Swedish (again, one was in English), and enjoyed speeches by the nation's curators (administrators) and Inspector and performances by the various Värmlands nation ensembles. Most notably were a very funny performance by sketch comedy group Spex and an unbelievably outstanding performance by the nation's choir. The latter received a standing ovation.
Swedish (Svenska) is a very difficult language to speak, but singing in Swedish is far more difficult. Nevertheless, as the alcohol flowed, the English-speakers in the room were more willing to attempt to follow along. The only song sang more than once was a thank you song to all performers, who in turn had their own part to play in this song.
After meeting new people and thoroughly enjoying their company, as well as the new found traditions and belonging – approximately 23:00 – we left for the after party at Smålands nation. This, in my opinion, left something to be desired, but I personally had already had an immense amount of enjoyment from the evening.
Today, I booked trips to Oslo and London. I'm very much looking forward to the travels I have planned. This weekend, some of my new friends and I head to Kiruna in northern Sweden. Hopefully, we will see the Northern Lights, but if nothing else, we'll experience a new part of the country we are studying in, a definite must in my opinion.
And Boston College again shocked the world (or the small fraction of it that care) by beating #5 Duke in yesterday's men's basketball game at Conte Forum. I was following along on ESPN Gamecast, but when it was a one-point game with 2+ minutes left, I'll admit I couldn't watch. Though, minutes later I refreshed the page and we had won by 6! BC will hopefully make the tournament after a year's absence! Well done, boys.
And Arsenal. I must just say, it was an absolute delight to see Eduardo playing again. He decided to upstage his own return, though, by scoring twice. What a class act. Arsenal walked all over Cardiff, 4-0. It could have been much worse had van Persie and Bendtner converted easy chances, Cardiff goalkeeper Heaton not been playing out of his head.
Song: "Cherub Rock" – Smashing Pumpkins
Thursday, January 29, 2009
The Everything Post
There's so much for you to read me write about. Get that? Where do I begin?
I guess I better start with changes to the blog, since you all (that's right, the two of you) have definitely noticed them. I made the page black because I think it looks cool, not because I am emo or gothic or anything. Also, I added a nice photo to the top. Thirdly, I enabled comments from those of you who aren't members, so anyone can comment now. Nice, right? I think I also may put the song that was playing when I finish each blog at the bottom, since I like music.
Alright, now onto sports. So Arsenal drew Everton yesterday in Liverpool, courtesy of a late Robin van Persie equalizer. I'm glad to see Robbo is fit and scoring. Also, I suppose the Arshavin deal is imminent. It'll be nice to have another threat.
It's nice to see BC basketball winning again after their appalling post-UNC performances. And I guess since BC football player William Ferguson is okay with the hiring of Frank Spaziani as head coach, then I am too.
Okay, now the stuff that I think some of you care a little about: Sweden. I'm not sure where to begin on this, either. Some differences I've noticed in my room alone:
At the supermarket (called Willie's), they have everything that an American supermarket has. Just a lot more sausage and less of a cereal selection. On my last purchase, I bought 1.5% Milk, pear juice (delicious, actually), dill-flavored Pringles, Frosties (Frosted Flakes, Tony the Tiger and all), Werther's caramels, salame, turkey, and pita bread – typically health conscious of me.
I just finished booking some travels! I am heading to Amsterdam for a couple of days in March to meet some BC guys (Lucas, Anthony, and Dorian, for those of you who are concerned), Vienna in April, and Lapland, the northernmost province of Sweden, to freeze my arse off (and see some nature, too!). This is all getting very exciting.
Until my next moment of inspiration,
Brian
I guess I better start with changes to the blog, since you all (that's right, the two of you) have definitely noticed them. I made the page black because I think it looks cool, not because I am emo or gothic or anything. Also, I added a nice photo to the top. Thirdly, I enabled comments from those of you who aren't members, so anyone can comment now. Nice, right? I think I also may put the song that was playing when I finish each blog at the bottom, since I like music.
Alright, now onto sports. So Arsenal drew Everton yesterday in Liverpool, courtesy of a late Robin van Persie equalizer. I'm glad to see Robbo is fit and scoring. Also, I suppose the Arshavin deal is imminent. It'll be nice to have another threat.
It's nice to see BC basketball winning again after their appalling post-UNC performances. And I guess since BC football player William Ferguson is okay with the hiring of Frank Spaziani as head coach, then I am too.
Okay, now the stuff that I think some of you care a little about: Sweden. I'm not sure where to begin on this, either. Some differences I've noticed in my room alone:
- First, and most obviously, the plugs are different. I purchased a converter before I left the U.S., but when I plugged by hair-clippers into the socket, it went bezerk. I'll guess I'll be rather unkempt when I get home. I'll shave at least.
- Second, the shower floor is not separated from the washroom floor. There is only a curtain separating them, so I have been squeegeeing (sp?) the floor after each shower.
- Third, the small oven (almost comparable to a toaster oven) I have in my room is hooked up to a wall outlet that has a digital timer on it. In order to cook, I have to press the button on the timer and then turn on the oven, which has a separate timer.
At the supermarket (called Willie's), they have everything that an American supermarket has. Just a lot more sausage and less of a cereal selection. On my last purchase, I bought 1.5% Milk, pear juice (delicious, actually), dill-flavored Pringles, Frosties (Frosted Flakes, Tony the Tiger and all), Werther's caramels, salame, turkey, and pita bread – typically health conscious of me.
I just finished booking some travels! I am heading to Amsterdam for a couple of days in March to meet some BC guys (Lucas, Anthony, and Dorian, for those of you who are concerned), Vienna in April, and Lapland, the northernmost province of Sweden, to freeze my arse off (and see some nature, too!). This is all getting very exciting.
Until my next moment of inspiration,
Brian
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Snow
As of now it has been snowing for the last three days and has been scheduled to snow for the next five. I have been in some less-than-satisfactory weather in my life – that Thanksgiving in Mammoth when the entire mountain closed down, or the freezing rain of Boston – and a day here doesn't compare to those times. But never in those places has the sun failed to shine for so many days. I feel like I am in Seattle.
On the brighter side, some fellow international students and I took a trip to Stockholm from Uppsala (about a 40-minute train ride) yesterday. We left at nine in the morning, which may seem early to you, but as I have had trouble sleeping lately, I had been up for four hours already. More on that later.
We arrived at about 10:30 and walked to the royal palace. Now in London, the palace guards are famous for their nifty red suits and their lack of movement. King Gustav's guards here are equipped with the very latest in military apparel and a shiny M-16 with a shiny bayonet – rather more intimidating. They also move, and therefore, look alive. We stuck around until 12:00 to watch the changing of the guard, which seemed to take hours given the freezing rain we were subjected to. It was a rather comical ceremony. Each time we figured it was coming to an end, a Swedish general would begin speaking into a microphone (which he held too far from his mouth so we could not hear him), alternating in English and Swedish. The highlight of the ceremony was the palace's drummers, which were extremely talented (tossing their sticks as they played and whatnot).
We then decided to find food, strangely deciding to give Sweden's tacos a try. If I'm being honest with you, it was comparable to Taco Bell and did not sit well. This was only a day after I had eaten curry and felt sick – a rather stereotypical Indian food experience I had not yet recovered from.
After warming up inside the restaurant we headed to the Moderna Museet, or Modern Art Museum. Oddly, given what I would politely call an apathy for artwork, I actually enjoyed the museum, which featured works by my countrymen Jackson Pollock and Andy Warhol. Although it was interesting, I felt we spent too long in the museum (but friends make sacrifices, right?).
We left the musuem in search of, obviously, a pub. We found one near Stockholm Central Station but were astounded to find that one pint cost 66: SEK or $8 USD. Some of us abandoned the plan to purchase a fizzy and headed to the nearby Max instead. Sweden's energy-conscious version of McDonald's tastes about the same, but the service is much friendlier! If there is one thing I have noticed about the Swedish so far, it is that they are very friendly people. I just have to be the one to make contact, as they are also very shy.
After a long day, I returned to my room and finally got my first good night of sleep in Sweden.
On the brighter side, some fellow international students and I took a trip to Stockholm from Uppsala (about a 40-minute train ride) yesterday. We left at nine in the morning, which may seem early to you, but as I have had trouble sleeping lately, I had been up for four hours already. More on that later.
We arrived at about 10:30 and walked to the royal palace. Now in London, the palace guards are famous for their nifty red suits and their lack of movement. King Gustav's guards here are equipped with the very latest in military apparel and a shiny M-16 with a shiny bayonet – rather more intimidating. They also move, and therefore, look alive. We stuck around until 12:00 to watch the changing of the guard, which seemed to take hours given the freezing rain we were subjected to. It was a rather comical ceremony. Each time we figured it was coming to an end, a Swedish general would begin speaking into a microphone (which he held too far from his mouth so we could not hear him), alternating in English and Swedish. The highlight of the ceremony was the palace's drummers, which were extremely talented (tossing their sticks as they played and whatnot).
We then decided to find food, strangely deciding to give Sweden's tacos a try. If I'm being honest with you, it was comparable to Taco Bell and did not sit well. This was only a day after I had eaten curry and felt sick – a rather stereotypical Indian food experience I had not yet recovered from.
After warming up inside the restaurant we headed to the Moderna Museet, or Modern Art Museum. Oddly, given what I would politely call an apathy for artwork, I actually enjoyed the museum, which featured works by my countrymen Jackson Pollock and Andy Warhol. Although it was interesting, I felt we spent too long in the museum (but friends make sacrifices, right?).
We left the musuem in search of, obviously, a pub. We found one near Stockholm Central Station but were astounded to find that one pint cost 66: SEK or $8 USD. Some of us abandoned the plan to purchase a fizzy and headed to the nearby Max instead. Sweden's energy-conscious version of McDonald's tastes about the same, but the service is much friendlier! If there is one thing I have noticed about the Swedish so far, it is that they are very friendly people. I just have to be the one to make contact, as they are also very shy.
After a long day, I returned to my room and finally got my first good night of sleep in Sweden.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Beer
I have a feeling this will be the first of many posts entitled "Beer." In any case, I have been here for almost a week now and have had quite a bit of beer to drink.
So what have I been up to? Well, I've done a lot of walking and biking around Uppsala during the day. I've walked through the Stora Torget a bunch of times to walk around all the shops. Some you may recognize? H&M, Subway, McDonald's, Burger King, Levi's. There is also an ICA (the Swedish supermarket) in one of the malls, the Systembolaget (the all-important liquor store), and the Akademibokhandeln (the bookstore) to pick up my textbook and a Swedish translating dictionary.
I began class yesterday – Basic Swedish History. It has a different professor for each of the 7 meetings, which is a bit unfortunate given the first professor's easiness on the eye. Besides the meetings, there is 600+ pages of textbook to read and one term paper due at the end – easy cheese.
I've met people from many countries so far. I've been hanging out with a group that consists of Americans, Swedes, Australians, Germans, and Austrians, but I've met some Dutch, French, and Canadians too. Some of us are going to take a day trip to Stockholm this weekend (it's 40 minutes by train).
Ah, now you want to hear the drinking stories? Well, I'll get back to you on those. But I'll let you know that I drank quite a bit on a "pub crawl" last night and didn't make it back to my room. I'll leave the rest to your imagination.
Uppsala University has a system of nations, a bit like the American Greeks system. There are 13 nations, each named after a region in Sweden. Every student is required to join one. Every nation has a pub, which, more often than not, is open 5 days a week. The nations organize free activities for their members, but any student from another nation can join in for a small fee.
Now, to the good stuff: beer. The beer here has been very good so far, but apparently, I have been drinking shoddy beer. Such is the difference in quality between American and European beer. One nation I went to last night had the most different types of beer I have ever seen. It was orgasmic. They had 5 different types of Samuel Adams, 6 different types of Sierra Nevada, and they had Anchor Steam on tap. Unbelievable. I had little time to spend there, so I tried the local beer – Slottskällan – and it was fantastic.
So what have I been up to? Well, I've done a lot of walking and biking around Uppsala during the day. I've walked through the Stora Torget a bunch of times to walk around all the shops. Some you may recognize? H&M, Subway, McDonald's, Burger King, Levi's. There is also an ICA (the Swedish supermarket) in one of the malls, the Systembolaget (the all-important liquor store), and the Akademibokhandeln (the bookstore) to pick up my textbook and a Swedish translating dictionary.
I began class yesterday – Basic Swedish History. It has a different professor for each of the 7 meetings, which is a bit unfortunate given the first professor's easiness on the eye. Besides the meetings, there is 600+ pages of textbook to read and one term paper due at the end – easy cheese.
I've met people from many countries so far. I've been hanging out with a group that consists of Americans, Swedes, Australians, Germans, and Austrians, but I've met some Dutch, French, and Canadians too. Some of us are going to take a day trip to Stockholm this weekend (it's 40 minutes by train).
Ah, now you want to hear the drinking stories? Well, I'll get back to you on those. But I'll let you know that I drank quite a bit on a "pub crawl" last night and didn't make it back to my room. I'll leave the rest to your imagination.
Uppsala University has a system of nations, a bit like the American Greeks system. There are 13 nations, each named after a region in Sweden. Every student is required to join one. Every nation has a pub, which, more often than not, is open 5 days a week. The nations organize free activities for their members, but any student from another nation can join in for a small fee.
Now, to the good stuff: beer. The beer here has been very good so far, but apparently, I have been drinking shoddy beer. Such is the difference in quality between American and European beer. One nation I went to last night had the most different types of beer I have ever seen. It was orgasmic. They had 5 different types of Samuel Adams, 6 different types of Sierra Nevada, and they had Anchor Steam on tap. Unbelievable. I had little time to spend there, so I tried the local beer – Slottskällan – and it was fantastic.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
In Sweden
As promised, I have clearly stayed very up to date with this blog. I spent time snowboarding in Mammoth, and then I had to deal with the Great Passport Debacle of 2009, when, much to my chagrin, I learned that between UPS and the Swedish Consulate in New York, my passport could not be kept track of. So I had to spend a nice chunk of change on a new passport and money on the gas to drive to Wilshire Blvd. twice and back.
After receiving my new passport and Swedish residence permit, I (to disregard the few days in between) flew to Sweden. The plane ride to London from LAX was filled with sleep (unfortunately, the last good night of sleep I've had, if you can call it that, but I'll get there), and I watched Forgetting Sarah Marshall on my iPod. I should mention that at first, I sat in the wrong seat – a very embarassing experience. After a two hour layover at Heathrow, I embarked on a 767 to Stockholm. Two and half hours later, I landed in Sweden, my place of residence for the next 5 months. After lugging my bags about a mile through Arlanda Airport to the train station, I boarded the train for Uppsala, where the university is. Upon arriving, I was very hungry, so walked into town until I found the ever-reliable golden arch which symbolizes, if I'm not mistaken, the world's fattest corporation (and the world's fattness in general, i suppose). Mind you, this is because nothing else was open.
I am situated in my own room with the following amenities – bathroom, desk, bed (which is strangely elevated above the desk – I have subsequently moved the mattress onto the floor), toaster oven, stove top, microwave, refrigerator/freezer, etc...
The first night was rather difficult – I can't remember the last time I was alone and without a phone or internet connection, but morning came and I started to make friends (I think) and such. I'm about a 15-20 minute walk from the city center, Stora Torget in Swedish. I walked to the International Office (at first, I thought it was closed because the handle on the door, which normally indicates that you need to pull it open, obviously means that I had to push it) and picked up many things, most importantly, my SIM card. Then I headed to Claus Ohlsson, an electronics store, to pick up my nostalgic Nokia phone (yes, it has snake on it).
There is much more to recount, and I'll do so eventually, but I suppose I should talk a bit about my sleeping problem, which is the reason I am even typing this right now. Never have I ever had so much trouble sleeping in my life. Ask anyone: sleeping is something I have always done a lot of and I have always really enjoyed. But here, in Uppsala, for whatever reason, sleeping hours have been few and far between. I think it is a combination of the alienation produced by culture shock and the jet lag. In terms of the former, I'm having some feelings of dread, right now, about staying here for 5 months; it seems like an eternity I don't want to deal with. Right now, if I was any less of a man (which everyone knows I'm not), I would choose to come home. It's good to know that this is apparently normal and that these concerns will subside as the days pass. For now, though, sleep is a precious commodity. I have gotten a total of about 8 hours of sleep the last three nights. I'm still on the California schedule, I think.
I'll talk about the Arse and BC and the more fun stuff to read tomorrow morning, when inevitably, I wake up at 2 or 3 or 4 or 5 am.
After receiving my new passport and Swedish residence permit, I (to disregard the few days in between) flew to Sweden. The plane ride to London from LAX was filled with sleep (unfortunately, the last good night of sleep I've had, if you can call it that, but I'll get there), and I watched Forgetting Sarah Marshall on my iPod. I should mention that at first, I sat in the wrong seat – a very embarassing experience. After a two hour layover at Heathrow, I embarked on a 767 to Stockholm. Two and half hours later, I landed in Sweden, my place of residence for the next 5 months. After lugging my bags about a mile through Arlanda Airport to the train station, I boarded the train for Uppsala, where the university is. Upon arriving, I was very hungry, so walked into town until I found the ever-reliable golden arch which symbolizes, if I'm not mistaken, the world's fattest corporation (and the world's fattness in general, i suppose). Mind you, this is because nothing else was open.
I am situated in my own room with the following amenities – bathroom, desk, bed (which is strangely elevated above the desk – I have subsequently moved the mattress onto the floor), toaster oven, stove top, microwave, refrigerator/freezer, etc...
The first night was rather difficult – I can't remember the last time I was alone and without a phone or internet connection, but morning came and I started to make friends (I think) and such. I'm about a 15-20 minute walk from the city center, Stora Torget in Swedish. I walked to the International Office (at first, I thought it was closed because the handle on the door, which normally indicates that you need to pull it open, obviously means that I had to push it) and picked up many things, most importantly, my SIM card. Then I headed to Claus Ohlsson, an electronics store, to pick up my nostalgic Nokia phone (yes, it has snake on it).
There is much more to recount, and I'll do so eventually, but I suppose I should talk a bit about my sleeping problem, which is the reason I am even typing this right now. Never have I ever had so much trouble sleeping in my life. Ask anyone: sleeping is something I have always done a lot of and I have always really enjoyed. But here, in Uppsala, for whatever reason, sleeping hours have been few and far between. I think it is a combination of the alienation produced by culture shock and the jet lag. In terms of the former, I'm having some feelings of dread, right now, about staying here for 5 months; it seems like an eternity I don't want to deal with. Right now, if I was any less of a man (which everyone knows I'm not), I would choose to come home. It's good to know that this is apparently normal and that these concerns will subside as the days pass. For now, though, sleep is a precious commodity. I have gotten a total of about 8 hours of sleep the last three nights. I'm still on the California schedule, I think.
I'll talk about the Arse and BC and the more fun stuff to read tomorrow morning, when inevitably, I wake up at 2 or 3 or 4 or 5 am.
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