Happy Anniversary!

No, it's not my wedding anniversary--that was back in May. As of today, it's exactly thirteen years since I first moved to Sweden. Heja Kim! :) I can still remember how nervous I felt in the weeks leading to my leaving Richmond, Virginia and moving here. Part of the time I walked around in a daze. It helped that I was working at the time for a department at VCU that did tele-research for the various state authorities. Between 3 and 6 hours a day I called people, who found all of us who were calling them and asking them to answer health questions on behalf of Virginia's health department exceeding annoying or just too nosy.

In between phone calls, I fretted over if I had enough money saved up (I didn't), would I like my new job in Sweden (well, the first one fell through before I even arrived but another one eventually came along), would Tord and I be able to stick it out when we were finally together on a full-time basis or was it a case of absence making the heart grow fonder (didn't need to worry about that). In short, I was terrified but I think I did an okay job of pretending I had no doubts at all because sometimes I even fooled myself.

On the day I was supposed to leave the US, Andrew, Inge, Paula and Mona took me to Dulles and they kept me from sinking too often into my own thoughts. When we arrived, the KLM check-in personnel informed me my flight had been canceled and that everyone booked on the Sunday flight to Amsterdam was being put up in rooms at the airport hotel. This hiccup was enough to rattle me. I hadn't planned for this, didn't have any phonecards or credit cards (I'd gotten rid of all my American cards by that point) but Inge gave me her phonecard so I could call Tord and let him know I would be a day late arriving in Stockholm.

As it turned out, I was two days late arriving in Stockholm. The flight I was scheduled to take the next day was several hours late leaving Dulles so I missed my connecting flight from Amsterdam to Stockholm. I ended up having to spend the night in Amsterdam, which should have been fun but I was so focused on getting to Stockholm and to Tord that I had no real interest in anything else. Besides, by the time my flight landed in Amsterdam, it was nearly one in the morning and the only thing I wanted to do was take a shower and go to bed. So much for excitement and adventure!

I tried to sleep but I spent more time tossing and turning, reviewing the three years I'd spent in Richmond, my life PT (pre-Tord) and how I was embarking on seriously major change. I was twenty-five and I was taking this huge step--moving to another country and leaving everything behind--and I suddenly understood why my mother was so worried about me and what I was doing. I didn't know anyone else in Sweden other than Tord and his family. I didn't have a support network in case things went horribly wrong. If I fell, there was nobody to catch me. And it was both thrilling and frightening.

But thirteen years later, I can say I have survived a hell of a lot of ups and downs in Sweden. Tord and I are still together and I can honestly say that--if I knew then what I know now, I wouldn't change a thing.

Late Afternoon Thoughts Regarding Vi i Vasastan

Yesterday I was reading Vi i Vasastan, which is the local weekly paper for the section of Stockholm where I live, and came across an article called "Vasastaners Best at Complaining" or something like that--I don't have the article in front of me since I already recycled my copy of the paper. The article focused on things we Vasastaners complain about the most.

Many of the people they interviewed made some valid points. One of the complaints I agreed with was the rat problem in Vasaparken. At one point a few year ago, Vasaparken was so overrun with rats that I didn't want to sit in the grass for fear that one would jump in my bag and come home with me. Yuck! This year it doesn't seem to be as bad as it was last year and the year before, but--then again--I haven't been hanging around so much in the park since I'm not on vacation yet.

I think the rat problem wouldn't be so bad though if people who have picnics and barbecues in the park were better at cleaning up after themselves instead of assuming the Park Authority will have time to clean up for them. Too often (when I've been in the park) I've seen people who show up with takeaway lattes and food, revel in the great weather and then (instead of taking their containers to the nearest trash cans or taking their refuse with them) leave their leftover food on the grass--didn't their parents ever tell them to pick up after themselves? So to paraphrase an old anti-littering campaign from the US, "Give a hoot, don't pollute! Never be a dirty bird! In the city or in the woods, help keep Vasaparken looking good!"

Another problem someone mentioned was the lack of food halls here. The closest we have to one is PrisExtra, which is not really my idea of a food hall like Reading Terminal in Philly or Östermalmshallen in Stockholm's Östermalm district. There's Vi Vasahallen but it's more like a supermarket that has a few luxury items. Of course, on the plus side we have some nice specialty shops like Vasastan Ost, A Tavola, Delicatessen Chez Jean Yves, Fiesta Deli, just to name a few. Plus a couple of good fishmongers (I've forgotten their names but one is on the upper part of Dalagatan and the other is on Karlbergsvägen in Birkastan). But anyway, they're not all under the same roof but we can always look at it from the bright side that we're getting exercise as we stroll along Upplandsgatan in search of good French cheese or Odengatan to collect some yummy smoked mozzarella.

One other problem was that people don't like parents of small children or parents pushing prams around the town. Well, I don't have a problem said parents (so long as they don't do disgusting things like change their kids' smelly diapers at the table beside me--that's why they have customer bathrooms, or allow their kids to run wild in places where people go for peace and quiet). I do have a problem with people who push prams and take up the entire pavement by walking beside their prams instead of behind them. I also don't like it when people with huge prams ignore the signs café owners put up asking them to leave their prams outside since there is limited space inside. Too often, I have been hemmed in by people with baby sedans blocking already crowded aisles in small cafés. The owners of these baby sedans then get annoyed if you so much as nudge their gigantoprams out of the way or ask them to move them aside.

Someone once accused me of only feeling this way because I was envious of people who have children since I don't have any (and probably never will have any). I don't think this is the case. I just think that often parents with prams don't think when they are in public space. Why do they need to walk beside their prams on crowded pavements when a pram is designed so that the person pushing it should be behind it? Why can't they understand that restaurants and cafés need to keep aisles clear so that their patrons and staff can move freely? Why do they suddenly decide to change a dirty diaper at their table instead of going into the restroom? No one wants to smell baby poop, let alone see it, when they are eating.

So to the young woman who said that people in Vasastan don't like parents of small children, said children or people pushing prams--those are some of the reasons why people don't like prams (and the people pushing them) in Vasastan.

Anyway, one of the main points in the article was that people who live in Vasastan are good at writing letters of complaint to the local authorities. And that these letters of complaint have often worked in improving things in the area. Good to know venting can lead to progress! ;)