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!

’Tis the Season

We celebrated Saint Lucia Day at school on Tuesday, with a gathering in the morning that involved lots of real candles, small children, and flammable white outfits. Along with a few friends, I also attended a Lucia service the night before to watch one of my students play Lucia. It was so warm, so beautiful, so Swedish.

My mentor students had a holiday party on Wednesday evening, which was organized by the class parents. They rented out a historic house, decorated it, and served pizza, brownies, and Julmust. After dinner, they headed downstairs to a dance floor lit up with twinkle lights. One of my kids asked me what we used to do at dances when I was their age. And that… is how I found myself teaching a small crowd of young Swedes how to dance the Macarena.

It’s been cold and rainy here for the past several days. It’s also been a week full of marking and assigning final grades, which is my least favorite part of teaching. But there have been many bright spots—here are some things that are making me happy lately:

A decorated whiteboard.

Winter poetry board.

Christmas Eve tea, sent by my wonderful parents!

Decorating oranges with cloves and red ribbon at a Christmas fika.

Some Christmassy things around the apartment...

Comfy cowgirl boots, found at a secondhand store in Stockholm.

Watching a student play Saint Lucia at her church.

A little love from the students... (pretty sure they give all their teachers this compliment, but I'll take what I can get).

Excellent reading material (thanks, Kat!).

Listening to friends perform their music downtown.

Cutting out sugar cookies...

Baking them...

And turning the cookies into neon masterpieces.

Giving Thanks

I managed to consume two fantastic Thanksgiving dinners this week, despite living far away from the land of pumpkins, turkey, football, and Black Friday. I’m grateful for both “families” with whom I enjoyed an American Thanksgiving feast.

I am thankful that I’m heading to New York in less than a month. I can’t wait to see my family, my friends, and my perfect street with the glittering lampposts shining through the silently falling snow.

I am thankful that I live in a place that is within easy travel distance to lots of interesting places. This Friday, it’s London or bust!

I am thankful that the process of mixing and then heating butter, sugar, flour, and a few other ingredients can turn an average night into a cozy, warm, comforting evening.

I am thankful that my students may actually be learning something from me. Out of 150 students, about 90 of them earned perfect scores on their most recent quiz, in which I asked them to define words like “bias,” “column,” “plagiarism,” “source,” and “reliable.” Of course, I also have days when I wonder if they heard/understood anything I said during an entire lesson. So I hang on to these bright moments.

I am thankful for books such as The Thirteenth Tale that quickly and unexpectedly draw me into their plotline. (Thanks for the recommendation, Tiffany.)

I am thankful that hot water comes out of my shower (I am still a bit traumatized by the lack of hot water/electricity/internet in my apartment for my first few days in Stockholm).

I am thankful that my Monday and Wednesday evenings are spent with encouraging, uplifting, and insightful friends. And fika. Always fika.

And, of course, I am especially thankful for my mom, dad, and sister. Their love contributes to my sense of stability when everything else seems new and unknown.

Don’t worry, I will avoid being so sappy in future posts. Promise!

A Swedish Education

There are about ten channels on the TV in my apartment. After coming home from a long Friday of teaching my lively sixth graders, I flopped onto my Ikea couch, turned on the TV for the first time in awhile, and found myself watching Öppna Kanalen (which means open channel—public television). No matter what country you’re living in, you never know what you’re going to get with public television. I am watching what is essentially a filmstrip featuring mediocre photographs of birds and flowers with their names written on each slide in Comic Sans font. Sweden is weird. And wonderful. And beautiful, and surprising, and, at the moment, pretty devoid of sunlight.

Four months ago, I moved to Stockholm to teach. But I’m learning a whole lot more than I’m teaching, I think. Even as I become comfortable with the public transportation system, the winding streets in the city, some common bits of Swedish conversation, and the unpredictable seaside weather, I realize how many things I have yet to learn about this place.

However, here are a few pieces of information I’ve assembled so far:

1.) “Fika” is a vital part of any work meeting or general gathering. Before, after, and/or halfway through a meeting, everyone drops their work, stops talking “shop,” pours a strong cup of coffee, and eats some sort of delicious baked good. I have never eaten so many cakes, cookies, brownies, sweets, pies, tarts, muffins, pastries, crumbles, and candies in my life. (My subsequent gym membership now has me using an elliptical while doing my best to pick up new Swedish vocabulary as I eavesdrop on others’ workout gossip sessions.)

2.) Schools are chock-full of germs. As a first-year teacher, I rarely feel like I'm NOT coming down with a cold.

3.) In my experience, Swedes are welcoming and open. Before I arrived, and throughout my time here, I’ve been continually advised that Swedish people may seem closed off and disinterested in making friends right off the bat. But I am amazed by the warmth of the culture that I’ve experienced while living in Stockholm. I realize I’m making some sweeping generalizations here, but I’m just calling it like I see it. It helps that the majority of the population speaks excellent English (this allows me to have conversations on public transportation about topics such as Nicolas Sarkozy and wild strawberries).

4.) “Allemansrätten” is a customary law that allows people to share the land. Earlier this autumn, I took a walk with a friend into a forested area so that he could show me the array of edible mushrooms that grow this time of year. I asked whose land we were on and he looked at me like I was crazy, shrugged, and bounded over a felled tree to point out a particularly bright (and non-edible) mushroom. Also, I can make applesauce using the apples that I picked during my walk home from the beach without worrying about being accused of stealing fruit from someone’s property.

5.) Stinging nettle… really stings. Kneeling down one afternoon to investigate a particularly fuzzy-looking plant that grows all over my front yard, I gave myself a quick and unexpected hands-on botany lesson. One of these days, I’m going to face that stinging nettle head-on and make some tea out of it, but for the time being, I’ll just eye it irritably every time I walk past.