My blog has been dead for far to long, and it seems it is about time to revive it before it dissapears into oblivion. Of course, I have good reason for my lack of posting. Traveling around the world takes time you know. I promise you now that when I get back home I will put up my travel journal, so you to can taste what I taste, smell what I smell, and see what I see, all without having to leave your computer or risk your precious toes and fingers. That is I promise I will keep, but I need your occasional push and prod to get it done. I am a bit of a procratinater. Now, with all the legal stuff out of the way, where do i begin? I am in the cirty of Kota Kinabalu, in the district of Sabah, on the Malaysian side of Borneo. Molly, Amanda, and I, are using KK as a staging ground between the trip we jsut took to Kudat, and our next move down to Miri. In Kudat we stayed with a British ex-pat, named Howard, working to set up a resort in the area. It was just by chance that we got in contact with hom through CouchSurfing, but we are certainly glad we did. Howard is an exuburant man, who has very strong connections with the Rungus people, Kudats indigenous group, and was more than happy to drag us along through his business in their villages. We had a great time and got to see a side of these people we never would have seen on our own. A truly amazing experience for an Anthropology student. So far, travelling has been great, and except for a few earthquakes, tsunamis, cancelled flights and lost bags, an absolute breeze. In five days we go to the jungle, and will be there for 2 1/2 weeks, and then we have more travels, with me finally ending up in Thailand working on an organic farm for two weeks. This is probably my last update until I am back in Sweden, so until then.
Max
Monday, March 8, 2010
Monday, February 1, 2010
Its Been A Long Time
This is my first post in other a month, as well as my first post of the new year. Don't heckle me about not updating since before Christmas, it has been out of my hands. I spent my first real whole Swedish Christmas with my grandparents and family. No Internet out there in the middle of nowhere. I of course don't mean nowhere in a bad way. Yes, it is true after a while you get a bit of cabin fever, but being out there with the snow covered fields, family, a good book, and great food, is well worth not being connected to the "modern world." Then I spent a few wonderful days in Copenhagen with Anna's Line. It was great to visit her, as well as staying out till 4 in the morning, after being with my grandparents for 3 weeks. One can only take so much of a good thing. Then I was in L.A. for a blink of an eye. Coming back was really odd. It felt like no time had passed at all. Being able to visit family and just hang around at home was priceless. Of course that sentimental family time only lasted a few days, until our house was invaded by Swedes. Now this is partly my fault as I invited the 4 of them, but it was great to have them there. It is always a great experience to show friends around your home town, as it forces you to do and see things you wouldn't often do as a local. Regardless of how I may have bad mouthed big cities, there is nothing quite like looking out over the city at night. When its lit up like a christmas tree. It is really spectacular. And now I am here in Hawaii, and have been here for 2 weeks as of today. Oh my god, I hadn't even realized that until just now when I wrote it. Time truly flies. I stay here in Honolulu until the 12th, when we fly to the Big Island and will stay in Milolii, the last Hawaiian fishing village, for 10 days. Then I leave for my field study work in Borneo on the 28th. Then two weeks WWOOF-ing on a farm in Thailand, home in Sweden on the 24th of April. I will try to write again before I leave Hawaii, but not promises. I do promise, however, to put up my journal and pictures as soon as I can when I get back. Don't be afraid to write me an email, I still have time for my family and friends.
Until next time,
MAX
Until next time,
MAX
Sunday, December 13, 2009
Copenhagen!!!!
As you are probably aware, yesterday Saturday the 12th, there was a huge demonstration in Copenhagen to pressure the U.N. climate meeting to come to an agreement that would put us onto the road to solving global warming and prevent the disasters that will come if we keep on the same track. Climate change is a big deal for me, as it should be for everyone, partly because of me going to the Zoo Magnet, but also because I have always been a lover of nature. So considering that Copenhagen is less than 2 hrs away from me I couldn't pass up the chance to join in. So a group of about 10 of us from my school left on Friday night for Copenhagen. The demonstration wasn't until Saturday, but there were a lot of things going on Friday night. There isn't much to say about the train ride, but I did have a bit of an epiphany. I have always wondered where Shakespeare got the name Elsinore, Hamlet's castle in Denmark, and while sitting on the train the voice said first in Swedish that the train goes to "Helsingør," then in English and said it Anglicized "Elsinore" (Maybe I am the only when who ever noticed.) When we got to Copenhagen Central station we were met by my friend Ylva's brother who had already been in Copenhagen for a few days. He took us to an info point for demonstrators where we found a place we could stay for free. After figuring out where we would be heading later that night we took a bus to the outskirts of Copenhagen to an old abandoned factory and warehouse space where we would attend a meeting planning what would happen at the demonstration. When we got there, there was a swarm of people from all over: France, Germany, Australia, England, the U.S, Canada, Sweden and Finland to name a few, all there to protest. They also were serving "donation optional" food for everyone there. If not just for the fact that it was like 1ºC out and the food was warm, the food was really good. We then all shuffled into an old warehouse where about 200 people were sitting around in a circle proposing things to do during the demonstration. There were two things that popped out to me, 1, that even with this many people with different opinions it was still orderly and calm, which to me really spoke to the fact that we all wanted the same thing and weren't going to argue about whose idea was better, and 2, there are a lot of people that jump to the conclusion that you can't get things done peacefully, but those who wanted to be "less than peaceful" agreed to march at another time and place in the city. From that point on I knew that the march was going to be a success. Later we headed over to a free concert, a group from Barcelona who played a sound I have never really heard. It was like a mix of salsa, reggae, and hard rock. Very cool. Then after that was over we hopped on a bus to go to where we were sleeping. Now even if the march wasn't an amazing experience, I would still have the story of where we slept. This bus too took us to an industrial part of the city to an abandoned warehouse. The complex reminded me of someplace you might go after a natural disaster or a zombie apocalypse. It was an empty storage house with sleeping bags, tents, and such, all laid directly on the cement floor, covering every inch of usable (legal) space. (we had to leave empty areas in case of a fire). Not to mention it was below freezing outside. My sleeping space consisted of me and my friends all lined up on the floor like sardines, side by side, all laying on top of our extra clothes and jackets for a mattress, and huddled in our sleeping bags. It wasn't the best night of sleep I have ever had, but all the sleeping people's breath and body heat warmed up the air, plus my sleeping bag goes down to-10º. I actually ended up opening it up in the middle of the night because I was sweating. We woke up the next morning to a chilly Danish winter. Why is it that the day I am going to be sleeping in a warehouse and marching outside all day is the first one in about 3 weeks that it is below freezing in the area? Nevertheless, we braved the chilly wind anyway. We ate our fill of porridge and bread with various vegan spread for breakfast, brushed our teeth, used the facilities , and left so we could avoid the rush and any police that would come when everyone started to leave. We hopped on the bus and got to the meeting place for the demonstration at a quarter to ten. This first part of the demonstration was called The Flood because we were going to flood the streets in protest. So accordingly everyone was wearing blue ponchos. After standing in the crowd for about 30 minutes, listening to speakers talk about what we are fighting for, and practicing our chants we got the signal to begin. We started walking chanting, "What do we want?" "Climate Justice!" "When do we want it?" "Now!' This first part of the march was from the central station to Parliament Square. Along the way I saw: a bunch of people dressed as polar bears, a man in a UFO suit offering tickets off the planet for 100 million dollars, a man in an inflatable raft being pushed along by the sea of people in blue, an inflated globe being rolled over our heads, and my personal favorite, two people, supposed to be police looking for climate refugees, in a "boat" following two other people in a "boat" supposed to be the refugees, all the while shouting "Please show us your passports! If you do not have a visa you must leave this country, even if yours doesn't exist!" I even got to help hold up a Swedish anti-nuclear power sign. I am just like my mother!! Being in the crowd, I didn't feel like I was one person, I felt like we were all one entity moving and breathing in unison. One life force. After what felt like 10 minutes, which was at least 40, we arrived at Parliament Square. There we were provided with signs saying different things like: "There is no Planet B!" and "Nature doesn't compromise!" This was the hardest part of the day. After this big exciting march, we had to wait for about 3 hours in the cold, windy square, amidst a crowd of people until the final march to Bella Center started. There were people all around handing out Socialist newspapers, Communist pamphlets, Vegan recipes, and such. There was music and speeches, but that time waiting felt like forever. I was freezing, my legs were tired, I was hungry, but I just held in knowing the time would come when we would march again. And sure enough it did! I am not going to try and describe this part because I was so awed and amazed I couldn't tell you much. I was marching between the Socialist, Anarchists, and Environmentalists. It felt really strangely satisfying to be marching with Socialists and not feel like they are too extreme and crazy. (because thats the feeling I get in the US) We were chanting and singing and marching forever it seemed. It was 8 km and it took us about 3 to 4 hours to get there. It was pitch dark 2 hours in, but that didn't matter. The whole time my legs kept telling me to stop, but my brain pushed me through. Then eventually my brain told me to stop as well, but luckily my heart pushed on. When we got to Bella Center, everyone got quiet and marched with a light of some kind to prove that we were peaceful and calm. But after a while the area broke out in music and dancing, and laughter filled the air. We left by 6:30, the metro was so full there was barely standing room, and on more than one occasion the doors wouldn't close. Then we jumped on a bus to go get our stuff from where we slept. Got some free soup, and hitched a ride with some Germans to the train station. After hours upon hours of marching, the longest part of my day came waiting for trains and busses, just thinking about sleeping in a warm bed. I finally got home at around 2 AM and passed out.
I realize this isn't the best writing, and I am sure there are grammar mistakes, and run on sentences, and another myriad of errors that would make Ms. Rose blush, but this is all my mind can produce as of now. Maybe I am still in shock! But school is coming to a close this week, so I have to start packing up and cleaning. I just wanted to give you all a general idea of what I did.
I came away feeling accomplished and empowered, like the future is not as bleak as I imagined. However, the one thing I cant get out of my mind is: considering this was a climate demonstration, how many liters of oil were used to make the plastic ponchos we were wearing? And how many of them got thrown away? How much carbon was produced by the cars, trains, busses, planes we used to get here? And where did they get all the wood to make the signs?
I guess at some degree you must be your own enemy to create new allies.
I realize this isn't the best writing, and I am sure there are grammar mistakes, and run on sentences, and another myriad of errors that would make Ms. Rose blush, but this is all my mind can produce as of now. Maybe I am still in shock! But school is coming to a close this week, so I have to start packing up and cleaning. I just wanted to give you all a general idea of what I did.
I came away feeling accomplished and empowered, like the future is not as bleak as I imagined. However, the one thing I cant get out of my mind is: considering this was a climate demonstration, how many liters of oil were used to make the plastic ponchos we were wearing? And how many of them got thrown away? How much carbon was produced by the cars, trains, busses, planes we used to get here? And where did they get all the wood to make the signs?
I guess at some degree you must be your own enemy to create new allies.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
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>>>>>>>
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>>>>>>>
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
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.
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.
Thursday, November 12, 2009
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.
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.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
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
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
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
