Trip up North Part 1 of ?? (at least 2)

11/10
First day of travel, and what a day it was. It began on a low note for it was the last time I would see my parents for a while, but my reluctance to see them go was short lived. I was about to embark on a trip to the frozen northern reaches of the globe. The train was uncomfortable, not only for the fact that it would last 23 hours, but that I was stuck inside while my mind was whirring thinking about what awaited me outside.
Tomelilla-> Malmö-> Stockholm-> Luleå

12/10
They day began on a train rolling through a wonderland blanketed with snow and dotted with small cozy cottages and copses of trees. Stepping of a train after 23 hours would be wonderful no matter what, but stepping off onto a platform glistening with snow and the fresh air nipping at my face was pure bliss. My heavy backpack was weightless, the cramps in my legs were non existent, the rumble in my stomach subsided. It was just me and my environment as one. I have always loved the cold, for reasons unknown to me. Perhaps because of the sweltering L.A summers I knew as a child or the chilly Nordic blood running through my veins. Maybe it’s something else entirely, but all I know is I feel at home in the cold. I didn’t realize how cold it was until I couldn’t feel my face anymore. It felt as if sometime during my fifteen-foot walk I was jumped by a dentist who injected my entire face with Novocain. Nature was just trying to prove to me -9ºC is cold, whether you like it or not. We waited at the train station in Luleå for a few hours while two of my friends, Elin and Matilda, went to get the mini-busses and pick up our illustrious teacher from the airport. As they left, two things struck me. 1, it is really weird to think that in a class of 14 students, ages 18 to 24, less then half have drivers licenses, and of those 6, two are Americans without the faculties to drive a manual, and one has only driven a car about 3 times, let alone a bus. In my mind you need to have a car to get around and if you have to you can take public transportation, while here it is the complete opposite. All I have to say is: Sweden where have you been all my life? 2, how unfair it is we had to take a train for a day while our teacher gets to fly for about 2 hours, and get picked up at the airport by his own personal chauffeurs. I do suppose however that he did put the whole trip together, so I guess he can get a break. It is amazing how long two hours can feel like when you are waiting for something. Like the old adage says, a watched pot never boils, but my rebuttal to that statement is that not only is watching water boil immensely more exciting then just waiting but how can you prove that it will boil if I don’t watch? To pass the time I did what I normally do when I have a few hours in an afternoon to kill, finish half of a book like War and Peace. That Tolstoy sure knows how to write, though I do admit a story where half of the male characters share the same first name can get a bit touch and go. I also booked my train ticket down to Stockholm where I would spend some time and visit with my Aunt Susse for my fall break. After a while, the air in the little waiting room seemed stifling and all the seats seemed to be made with odd angles such that it was impossible to sit comfortably anywhere, so I took my leave and went for a jaunt around town. With every step through the crunching snow and ice, I took a deep breath and let the refreshing chill of the brisk air calm my mind and alleviate all my aches and pains. By the time I was back from stretching my legs our mini-busses had arrived. In a flurry of movement, backpacks and suitcases were thrown in the back and bodies were squeezed into their seats. When everything was packed and we were all piled in we were off. The rumbles of the engines were the sounds indicating our trip had begun. We had a couple of hours to drive ahead of us before we reached Övertorneå’s Folkhögskola, so we stopped at a gas station to fill our stores for the ride. The first thing that caught my eye when I entered was a stack of tins of gingerbread cookies. I don’t know if it was the winter weather that infused those cookies with some special quality, but they just seemed so much more appetizing then anything else in the store. What I didn’t expect were all the strange looks I got from my classmates. I heard from at least five different people that they never saw anyone eat gingerbread before December. Now, I knew Swedish culture is known for conforming to societal laws, but I never knew it went as far as laws regarding baked goods. I’m not sure if the weather actually made them taste better, but I ended up eating almost the whole tin within a two-hour drive. The drive itself is a bit of a blur, as I was fluttering in and out of sleep the whole time. As I woke up over and over again I remained in that limbo world between sleep and awake where reality blends with dream. The frozen landscape took on a magical quality, I was like Alice in Wonderland where normalcy is unobtainable and everything is tweaked, but in a strange way everything is just as it should be. We were driving through fresh snow and day old ice, alongside rivers and lakes surrounded by forest. Every once in a while you would see a little cabin nestled in among the trees, powdered in snow with smoke billowing out the chimney. How great would it be to live in the woods, off the beaten track, in a little house where you grow your own food and animals, living off the grid. I could see myself doing that sometime in my life. As my mind wandered into the future of my life, we came upon our destination. Övertorneå is a small little town situated along the banks of a river on which the other bank is Finland. We drove the busses down a little hill into the parking lot of the Övertorneå Folkhögskola, our home for the next week. We got out of the cars and gingerly walked over the icy ground and through the biting cold to where we had a nice hot meal waiting for us. Now, before I get ahead of myself let me remind you that my meals that day consisted of: a hard-boiled egg, a cheese sandwich, and three-quarters of a tin of gingerbread. So to me anything was edible. And it's a good thing I was that hungry to because otherwise I wouldn't have been able to get through dinner. We walked into the central building and were greeted by the schools director, a big, stout, Tornedaler (Swedish-Finn) who met us with open arms and the gift of gab. After sitting down and listening to the man talk for about ten minutes I was a bit at a loss. You see, this man not only spoke Swedish with a thick Finnish accent, but he was one of those people who is always sarcastic, so much so you cant believe what they tell you because truth and sarcasm become one tangled mess of what they think is the funniest god damn thing ever. By the end of his spiel we were convinced only women were allowed to wear hats, no clothing was allowed in the sauna, there was no smoking allowed and that there was nowhere at school or in town for us to stay, so we would have to sleep on the gym floor. After a few big laughs on his part, we were introduced to our dinner, Palt. Essentially a ball of potato flour, salt, butter, baking powder, with a tiny ball of chopped up bacon in the center, that is boiled in water for several hours until it all solidifies into a solid, spongy, gluey glop. These are put on a plate and served with a mound of butter and lingonberry jam. Now I have always held the idea that one must try everything once, and then once again just to make sure, but in this case my rule is void, once is plenty. After a filling meal of three hockey pucks filled with meat, we went to move into the different apartments we would be staying in. Herein lies the biggest controversy of the trip. We were supplied with two guest apartments, with room for five in each, and then director's suite, which was for Mats and 4 others. Now it should seem easy enough for a group of 14 adults to decide who stays with whom and so on. The initial divide was eight in one room: Matilda, Molly S, Molly F, Linda, Amanda CP, Amanda L, Elin, and Me, 6 in the other: Zac, Robin, Eric, Amanda B, Amanda F, and Madde, and Mats alone in the suite. Now considering that there were only five mattresses in each apartment this plan didn't really work out. So Elin, Linda, and I went over to Mats' suite where we were going to get some extra mattresses. However, when we got their we changed our mind and decided it would just be easier for us three to move to the suite, plus we thought it would be nice to share a room with people we hadn't spent a lot of time with. That should have solved the problem, but when Molly F, Amanda CP, and Amanda L came over to see where we were, they too decided that the suite was bigger and a nicer place to stay. So now we had 7 people, including Mats, in one apartment, 2 in another, and 6 in the last one. Our plan to thin out numbers ended up just shifting to a new place. This then left Matilda and Molly S alone in their own apartment, giving them the idea that no one wanted to stay with them, bad move I must say. After we were all settled in our new suite, Elin, Linda and I decided to go shopping for our food for the week. The school was providing us breakfast and fika, or coffee-time, but we still needed to buy lunch and dinner. So we, along with most others, headed down to COOP to stock up. After we had paid we realized we bought so much food it would be impossible to eat it all in a week and we started to get the feeling we actually would have saved money if we ate out, but after some calculations we realized we were only paying about half of what we would if ate out every night. As we were walking back to the school we had our first ice related casualty, Linda stepped on some ice and literally went flying through the air landing right on her wrist. Luckily, it wasn't serious and with some help of the Advil I always carry in my bag there wasn't much swelling or pain. We got back to our flat, put our food away, pulled out a few beers and sat down to my new favorite game: the Flag Spel. Essentially the game consists of cards with a nation's flag on one side, and on the other some helpful hints, a map and the capital city. The premise of the game is to try and get the country and capital of the other players cards and build up the biggest pile. Who knew an informational game could be so much fun? For example, did you know that the capital of Mongolia is Ulan Bator, because I did, but I'm not sure how! We played for a couple hours but finally had to stop when Mats joined in because he was a) too good, and b) he kept giving everybody hints so they would get it right. We understand that the teacher's job is to teach, but seriously sometimes some of us want to show everyone how smart we are!

13/10 PART 1
I woke up at a 6:45 to a rising sun, clear blue skies, and a frisk -10ºC. I had to wake up so early to beat the rush to the shower, because an apartment with 7 people, five of them girls, and only one bathroom is the definition of precious commodity. It was an epic campaign, equal to that of the Spartans at the battle of Thermopylae or the Charge of the Light Brigade, I had to brave a freezing room in only boxers and a towel, each step draining the fresh warmth of a nights sleep, and when I finally reached the door to the bathroom I found it occupied. Each minute I waited in that cold room felt like an eternity. I kept myself busy with the reminder that I would soon be under a shower running with hot steamy water. After about five minutes Linda was done, and I rushed into the bathroom before anyone else could. That was possibly the best shower I ever took, as the warm water cascaded over my body I was warmed to the soul and ready to face the day. My outfit for the day consisted of two pairs of socks, one wool and one cotton, 3 bottom layers, boxers, long underwear, and jeans, 3 top layers, a long sleeved shirt, fleece jacket, and big down jacket, topped of with wool gloves and a hat. Perhaps I over dressed a little since I was only walking about 50 feet to the house where we would be eating breakfast, but for a boy from L.A. I didn't know what to expect, and better safe than sorry. Breakfast consisted of some yoghurt and granola, a hard boiled egg sandwich (a Swedish sandwich that is, one piece of bread), another type of sandwich, and the pièce de résistance coffee, really good coffee. For some strange reason Swedes make really good coffee, and in a country where you can get really good coffee the best is up north. They boil the coffee with the water, so it's really, dark, rich, and creamily smooth. A great way to start a great day, well some parts were great others not so much. After my fill we headed into the main school building, and sat down in what I can only describe as a decommissioned science classroom, and awaited or guest teacher for the week. On one wall was an empty fumigation chamber, on another a shelf covered with assorted curios and scientific artifacts. Couldn't help but think, what the hell does this have to do with Finnish-Swedes and Kväner. I don't remember reading anything about them being famous chemists. All doubts of perhaps not learning what we were supposed to disappeared, as a stout man, with broad shoulders, walrus mustache and a face wrinkled by the winds that rode in through the fjords entered the room. Bengt Aili. This was him our portal to the world of the Kväner and Tornedal-Finsk. The first thing he did as he walked in the class, was give us an important Kväner/Sami/Torendaling city that we had to find on a map of Norbotten (Northern Norway, Sweden, Finland and Russia.) After our blundering attempts at finding these seemingly random towns (like Kiruna and Murmansk, who the hell has heard of those...j/k) he proceeded to go around the class, ask our names, and repeat them in Meänkieli, the local language, and Finnish. Some examples Amanda-> Mandi, Linda-> Lindi, Max-> Maxi... and you can guess the rest. This ended up being a theme of our trip to Finland. After a few hours of lectures on Swedish and Finnish history, language, and geography(?) we had our first fika(Coffee). We were once again give the really good coffee, but this time we had something with it....Kaffe Ost (Coffee Cheese). What reaction do you get hearing about this for the first time? I imagine there are several ways: you think, cheese...milk...they are about the same, or never in a million years does that sound good, or I'll try that. I was the third...in the beginning. The cheese was the consistency of Havarti, soft and smooth, good melting cheese, and had, on its own, the flavor of fresh salty mozzarella. When I added it to the coffee I didn't really know what to expect. I was thinking it would melt and mix in with the liquid and cream it out. Turns out, it just sits at the bottom melting releasing salt and fat into the water. You dip to spoon to the bottom, grab some cheese, and eat it off your spoon, and it tastes like before. Then you drink the coffee, and it does NOT taste like before. It tastes like salty fatty cheesy coffee. Like a non-fat espresso and mozzarella pizza. Then you realize that the fat in the coffee sticks to your teeth, in fact it sticks to your whole mouth. So now you feel like you have been sucking on a pigs ass and haven't brushed your teeth in a week. Needless to say that didn't become the favorite part of my day. I'll just stick to black coffee. Then we met up again a headed to Finland.

TO BE CONTINUED>>>>>>>

Time for an update

I realized that it has been awhile since my last post. So, 5 days after realizing that, here I go. Things here in Sweden are starting to go from dark to darker. I do mean that in the most literal sense. Sun starts to rise at 7:30 and set at 3:30, short days and long nights. Even the days are dark. Last week we had a "jättestorm", could be translated as a "very storm." But none the less a big storm. Steady winds of 20 m/s (45 mph!) and gusts of god knows what. The next morning there were reports of missing roofs, rouge gasoline tanks, and uprooted trees all through Skåne. My personal experience consisted of sitting in my room listening to rain hit the windows, not in the relaxing and soothing way, but in the oh my god my windows are gonna break and my room is gonna flood way. I also had to deal with the hissing sound of wind coming in through the cracks in the window seams and my little wall heater trying to keep itself alive. But none the less I survived. Also, the week before that I took part of a traditional Skånska celebration: Mårtins fest. This celebration includes the eating of roast goose and.... blood soup (svartsoppa.) Now, I have never eaten blood before and I had heard horror stories, so I didn't know what to expect. However, this story does not end with projectile vomiting or stomach ailments. It wasn't so bad! I'm not saying I am going to search for it and try to eat it, but if it comes down my road, hopefully not very often, I wouldn't abandon the idea of eating it again. It is made with goose blood and a variety of dried fruits. So, unsurprisingly, it tastes like bloody fruit. Well not bloody, not the irony kind at least, more like really strong liver or organ meat. The smell.... gingerbread cookies. So that was an experience. But one of my rules is to try everything once, and a second time if you didn't like it. I am also working on planning my trip to Borneo a little bit more, but its slow going and not much to talk about as of yet, but as soon as I make any major decision I will post them.
P.S.- I promised to write about my trip up North (journal style, like my Europe trip0. I am still working on it, but I think I will post the first few days I have done to try and stimulate myself to write more.

I read the news today, oh boy

Everyday before I go to bed I have a plan in my mind about what the next day will be like. My Romanticized idea is that I will wake up (and not put my alarm on snooze), do yoga , take a shower, eat breakfast, and ,with the time I have to spare after all the daily morning routines, write. I now question my abilities to stick with something and follow through. My mornings have instead turned to a non structured lump of sleep addicted and hibernative tendencies. Some days I don't follow through for a reason: a headache, a bad nights sleep, wanting to continue a good dream I was having (which is a skill I am lucky to have, because as I have heard being able to control the playback of your dream like a DVD is a rare skill), but most of the time I just want to sleep. Perhaps this is just a solidification of my being an animal, just like every other creature, and adapting to this new winter environment, yes either that or I'm just a lazy human.

But I guess for all my persona issues with myself I have been getting some things done. I finally decided on where I will be going for my 5 to 7 week field study.... wait for it....wait for it....BORNEO. Yes, the land of orangutans, fruit that smells like feet and tastes to match. An island divided in 3 by Indonesia, Malaysia, and Brunei. I am also working on putting up an account of my travels up north, and little by little it is getting there. Of course every time I sit down at the computer to write, I get distracted and instead waste my time on useless Internet frivolities.

But, it looks like I have some time now to write, because class doesn't start till 1 o'clock. I'm gonna try and actually write a decent portion.

It's been a long time comin'

Well, I haven't posted in a while so I thought I should. Two weeks ago, I came back from my first school trip, up to northern Sweden and Finland. While I was there I kept a little log of what I did and my experiences, but I didn't actually write it out. I am now working on getting my thoughts together in a coheiseve manner so I can post them and you can be enlightened by my experiences. ;)
The weather here is starting to turn and it is clearly going to be winter soon. Almost all the leaves are gone, leaving the environment looking like a skeleton of its former self. Gone to are the beautiful sunrises and sunsets, with their many colors, that made the day seem endless. Now the sun rises at around 7, but it isnt light outside till 8:30, and it goes back down again by 5. Yesterday I had me first southern Swedish snow since I have been here, that is if you can even call it snow. It is more like water with sharp pieces of ice that act like buckshot.

Who knows how this weather will affect me. Will I be depressed? Will I feel tired and sick? I guess we will have to wait and find out. But as of now I am apreciating the beauty of the new season and relishing in the fresh air and cool breezes it provides. Plus, I wont even be here for half the winter, I will be in L.A. and Hawaii.

I will try to put up my travel blog A.S.A.P, and I will upload my pictures tonight. (the pictures I ahve are only from the first half of the trip, but I will try and get friends pics as well)

Best of love, my thoughts are always with my friends and family