Your Weekend Plans

This recipe is so good. Jättebra, underbart, utsökt. I'm a bit embarrassed to admit that I've made these Mocha Chocolate Chip Cookies at least once a month since living here. Any chance I get-- girls' night, birthday fika, thank you gift, cure for homesickness-- this is my simple, no-fail, go-to dessert recipe. You can easily exchange the coffee crystals or chocolate chips for nuts, M&Ms, white chocolate chips, peanut butter chips, or toffee pieces to give the cookies a different twist.

During my last Book Club meeting, my kiddos happily gobbled up a coffee-free batch while discussing democracy, reality television, and how awesome Katniss is. (If you haven't read The Hunger Games, you should probably make it a priority this weekend. Read that book and eat these cookies.)

Ingredients:

• 1 cup butter, softened
• 1 1/4 cups white sugar
• 2 eggs
• 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
• 2 cups all-purpose flour
• 3/4 cup cocoa powder
• 1/3 cup instant coffee crystals
• 1 teaspoon cinnamon
• 3/4 teaspoon baking soda
• 1/4 teaspoon salt
• 2 cups semisweet chocolate chips (or chop up a dark chocolate bar if you live in a country that doesn't offer chocolate chips)

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C).
2. In a large bowl, beat butter, sugar, eggs, and vanilla until light and fluffy. In another bowl, combine the flour, cocoa, coffee crystals, cinnamon, baking soda, and salt; stir into the butter mixture until well blended. Mix in the chocolate chips/chunks. Drop by rounded tablespoons onto ungreased cookie sheets. 
3. Try not to eat all of the raw batter.
4. Bake for 8 to 10 minutes in the preheated oven, or just until set. These are better a bit under-done. Cool slightly on the cookie sheets before transferring to wire racks to cool completely. Makes about 3 dozen cookies.

While we're on the topic of chocolate, the yellowish building on the right serves some pretty amazing chocolate cake.

Water, Water Everywhere

Hässelby Strand is a suburb to the west of Stockholm, about a 30-minute train ride from the city center. It’s not a luxurious place to live. Hässelby’s distinguishing features are tall, white apartment buildings, a train station, an awesome Thai takeout place, a few overpriced convenience stores, and two schools. 

But there’s natural beauty here for the observer who has the eyes to see it. Massive pines, graceful aspens, genial apple trees, and big slabs of granite adorn the terrain. Best of all, I can stroll downhill for about five minutes and end up by the water—Hässelby Strand means "Hässelby Beach."

Hässelby Strand in September.

I haven’t lived in many places yet, but wherever I end up, I’m drawn to water. Growing up in western NY, I was able to enjoy the Great Lakes, Niagara Falls, immense gorges formed by glaciers, and our own little Chautauqua Lake. In college, I visited the river in a nearby ravine whenever I needed to get away from my daily routine. While in Edinburgh, I was enticed by the rocky craigs, which overlooked the shimmering Firth of Forth. In San Francisco, I could walk ten blocks and have a face-to-face meeting with the Atlantic Ocean. Living in Honesdale, I often packed up a book, blanket, and picnic lunch and spent the afternoon at a nearby lake. 

Edinburgh, Scotland

Zoar Valley, NY

San Francisco, CA

Meadville, PA

Bodies of water make me feel calm and secure. I like the open space and reflective qualities of water. I like the range of sounds it makes. And I like that water can take on multiple forms.

Currently, the water near Hässelby happens to be in its most solid form. Over the past seven months, I've taken comfort in the steady seasonal changes of my little beach. I took a walk down to the water one bright Sunday afternoon and was surprised by how many people were out on the ice, enjoying the sunshine and the unique sensation of walking on open water. 

Lonely docks.

Family picnic on the ice.

Look at that blue sky!

With Love from Me to You

Out on the ice at Hässelby Beach

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in
my heart) i am never without it (anywhere
i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)

    i fear
no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart (i carry it in my heart)

--e.e. cummings

First Rehearsal

Friday's icy view from a staff room window.

Earlier this week, I found myself in a crowd of 400 Swedes who were warming up their voices with a lively round of “Vintern Rasat,” a song about the passing of winter into spring. My first choir rehearsal was characterized by laughter, confusion, and the comfort I feel when making music with other people.

I decided to join a choir because I miss being a part of a musical ensemble. I don’t have my French horn or guitar with me here, and as corny as it sounds, I feel as though part of me is missing when I don’t have weekly rehearsals of some sort. The group I’ve joined is the biggest choir in Stockholm and they prepare for two concerts a year.

The school auditorium where we rehearse is a sizeable, circular room with a lofty balcony and tall windowpanes that look out over snowy Rådmansgatan. Sage green and cream curtains hang around the windows, and the walls and ceiling are decorated with elaborate gold swirls.

Walking into the auditorium and feeling extra-aware of my lingual limitations, I scanned the alto section and then sat down next to a girl wearing a plaid shirt. Is it strange that I associate plaid with friendliness? Probably. Lucky for me, my plaid-to-friendly correlation proved to be true— and she has lived in Australia and Canada, so her English is excellent. She translated the director’s instructions when necessary and patiently helped me with the pronunciation of some tricky Swedish lyrics.

One of the pieces we’re preparing is a gospel tune sung in English. The best part of the evening was, without a doubt, watching 400 people work really hard to sing with an American accent. It was a positive moment for my self-esteem.

Although I learned a new song on Monday about the end of winter, spring is actually nowhere in sight. It’s been bitterly cold over the past week or two, and the heat in our apartment seems to be on the fritz—I woke this morning to find the temperature in the kitchen to be 12 degrees C. Brrr!

The wintry weather goes right along with my Narnia unit, though. After a few months of ESL-style classes, we’re finally getting into some literature—and I think the kids are liking it. Teaching from a novel provides a little more depth to my lessons, and a novel like "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe" offers endless activities, conversation starters, grammar reviews, character studies, and vocabulary builders. We made snowflakes last week! (With a dash of characterization discussion, thesaurus practice, and friendly competition, of course.)

Props to my dad for making me the best lamppost Hässelby has ever seen!

The Familiar

Trudging through the snow this evening, I think about how annoying it is that my socks are sliding off my feet inside my boots. I ponder what leftovers I will have for dinner later on. I notice the purple-gray color of the sky. I think about doing laundry. I am not thinking about how desperately I miss my friends, or how to get back to my apartment, or how much I feel like an outsider.

I feel at home. 

After living here for six months and becoming familiar with my surroundings, I have the luxury of focusing on the small things. This is not to say that I don't still feel like an outsider on a regular basis-- without the language, without the cultural knowledge, and without a smart phone, I still play the part of "confused American" quite well from time to time.

So, some news! I’ve decided to stay on another year. My reasoning:
•  I’d like to explore more of this part of the world, and another year in Stockholm will allow me to do that.
•  My job is fantastic. My co-workers are great, my principal is supportive, my kids are awesome. Of course, there are some things I would change about my work. But overall, I’m pretty lucky.

•  Fika.
•  I’m just beginning to form real relationships. I’ve been surrounded by friendly folks since my arrival here, but I’m finally developing meaningful friendships with some wonderful people.

•  I'm determined to learn Swedish.
•  I like the idea of putting down roots somewhere. My Meadville/Edinburgh/San Francisco/Honesdale adventures all felt very temporary, and while I don’t know how long I’ll stay here, it’s nice to know where I’ll be for another 18 months.

My holiday break, by the way, was lovely. It was full of friends and family, food and happy fat cats. Here's visual proof:

I apologize for not being committed to this little writing project. I have received several pushy/curious e-mails from my few faithful readers expressing concern over my lack of blog posts. Warranted or not, this made me feel important. Since you made me feel important, I am back at it, with all sorts of important things to say. Prepare yourselves!