Celebrating a Decade: Stockholm Snapshots!- 5th Most Popular

Last posted as recent as May 26, 2019, this post is originally from 2011, when I was still new to the country.  And believe it or not, I am still as fascinated by the country as I was when I came. I will say though that I know I have to move on--and should be thinking about it soon.

Regardless, here are some shots from Stockholm.  The reason this post has been reposted in such a short period of time is because this is the fifth most popular post on the blog.  Obviously, it is because of the pictures.  But hey, the blog gets some more eyes, if not readers!!


Not sure how but this post got posted as being from September 1, 2018.  But it is actually from January of 2011, if I remember correctly.  I was still very new in the country.  And its lights and sights excited me.

Strangely enough, they still do!! The joys of being an outsider, we never become blind to the beauty around us.....for its always new, like the world to a child. 

________

In the middle of January, I had to be in Stockholm. A friend who I knew from Fiji, and had live in Europe for the last 2 years, was heading home (Fiji). She stopped in the capital for two days. Two days, many sights to see. Inches of snow on the ground and the fact that this was my second time in the city made it difficult to reach places in time. But we had fun in the mean time looking around.

A shot from Hermans. All vegetarian restaurant in Stockholm. Highly recommended. The lights on the left upper corner of the picture are the lights from the restaurant reflected in the pic. I always enjoy taking pictures of reflections, especially through windows that allow for an overlap of the scene through the window and parts from the surrounding of the photographer. Merges the two worlds. Always creates an interesting effect.

Entrance of Vasa Museum. Vasa is a ship, that never really sailed....

A model of Vasa in the Museum.  Notice the ornate work on the side of the ship. Vasa (or Wasa) was a Swedish Warship that was built from 1626 to 1628. On August 10, 1628, after sailing merely one nautical mile the ship foundered (go down/ being lost in the sea).  In the 17th century, most of the bronze cannons were salvaged, and Vasa was forgotten.  However, in the 1950s she was located again, in a busy shipping lane just outside the Stockholm harbor. She was salvaged with a largely intact hull on 24 April 1961.

Vasa was housed in a temporary museum called Wasavarvet ("The Wasa Shipyard") until 1987, and was then moved to the Vasa Museum in Stockholm. The ship is one of Sweden's most popular tourist attractions and has since 1961 attracted more than 28 million visitors.

Vasa was built top-heavy and lacked sufficient ballast. Despite an obvious lack of stability in port, she was allowed to set sail and foundered a few minutes later when she first encountered a wind stronger than a breeze.

This picture is of the real ship. Show how much intricate work was done on the ship. A ten minute movie at the Museum details the restorative process. I was half asleep when I was watching it, but clearly remember that the only gold item they found on the ship was a ring. The short documentary is really amazing to watch, of how many people got together to restore Vasa to its original glory, where it brings back people to the times gone by!! I remember feeling like a midget standing next to it. What if it never sailed, it gives such a joy to the eye and provides labyrinths for our imagination to run wild!

Entrance of Ethnographic Museum in Stockholm

My friend P, at an exhihit/set up in the ethnographic museum. This set up is to show how in the 50s people sat around in their living rooms, huddled around a radio listening to a show on culture. I think we can still use such shows. In general I find Swedes pretty well informed about the world. In a conversation, when asked what are the first things that come to mind when you think of Asia, or say India to be specific, the answers have often been, 'technology, population, democracy, diversity, and yes poverty' But poverty is not the first thing that is mentioned. Which shows that they have a more holistic view of the world in general, and are not simply biased by one sided coverage of places and events.

Afternoon sun, benign but welcome...

A teepee outside ethnographic museum. I wonder if teepees were just in North America, or if they were also used by other populations under similar climatic conditions by other populations?

I found this fascinating. These were just stickers about Native Americans on a poster. So many of these tribes are just footnotes in anthropology books now.

Outside Hermans: A visitor from Fiji.....what does it feel to be ankle deep in snow instead of the Pacific. She kept commenting how even in Switzerland one never saw snow for a long time on the streets. She was fascinated with it. I like it too, but it stays too long. So I kept joking, why don't you take it with you....

Cooks and caretakers of Lao Wei. Possibly the best Chinese but Vegetarian restaurant. However, the staff is mostly Thai. All of them nearly fluent in Swedish, have spent the last 15 years of their lives in this multicultural city.

A picture I took on my way home from Stockholm. Home is only a few minutes walk away from the final bus stop. There is something about the light in Sweden. It makes things and places seem magical. Only if it were not biting cold, I would sit outside and just breathe in its beauty.....

In Time--For Fun

First published on August 30, 2012, here republished again.  Nearly 7 years later. I cannot believe how fast this time went. I was still new in Sweden in 2012. And had all the symptoms of a 'sense of dislocation'.  Now, my living space is much settled, I have a community. Better and stronger since then.  My place looks like a home, though in my heart--I am still in search of a home...

The kids must be adults now--working, going about with their lives, even married---sure they do not know that I have this one day captured here.  

When I look back, I am so grateful that I continued to write and document my time!!  Thankyou all for reading!!

The boys who were hell-bent to prove that they were not late.  Notice their shoes!! A reminder of 'spotless shoes' that young African men wear.  Shortly, after I took this picture, the fourth boy came running.  He had a twig in his hand. 

When the principal said, 'That color is hurting my eyes' the girl simply started to remove her jacket, as a sign of respect.  The school uniform is teal and white. Students are allowed to wear teal and black jerseys, sweaters or blazers.  It was a cold morning in Durban and many 'learners' as the students were called by their teachers, wore jackets. Some did not conform to the colors of the school uniform.  

Two students in their Math and Science classroom making a poster about their presentation in science fair.

Both the children/students/learners are of Indian descent.  Neither one of them speaks any Indian language.  The language has died out already.  But remnants of Indian culture remain, mostly food, and songs from Bollywood.

Math and Science Teacher, Ms. G.  The students could not stop hugging her.  I loved the way she yelled at the boys, like she was their mother.  At one point when she was taking me to another classroom, we passed a bunch of boys standing outside a classroom--as a form of punishment.  'Maam, Mr. N. does not take me seriously' lamented the boy, 'Honestly I did not do anything this time, he does not take us seriously'

The boy was wearing fur ear muffs, 'Who will take you seriously. Steven, with those pink fluffies on your ears'

Then she turned to me and gently said, 'Every school as their lot, this is ours.' Then as she turned the corner, she giggled like a little girl and nodded, 'But I love my students.'  

I knew what she meant.  I remember on the plane, when I was moving to Botswana, I took out a notepad and wrote down the names of about 200 out of 300 students I taught before leaving.  I did not want to forget them.  For years many kept in touch via letters etc.  Today, I am in regular touch with about 4 of them.  

The lovely Home Ec Teacher Ms. A, who students gushed about.  But  more importantly, who lit up, and said at least five times in our 20 minute meeting, how much she loves her job.  Ah, envy her so much!!

Home Ec Students. I forget their names now, but they all had very interesting names.  Although all of them were of Indian descent, none of them had real Indian names.  I guess that is why diaspora is so interesting to study.  To see how a community is transformed, what is broken away and what is left after years of being away from what they called, 'home culture.'

It was my last day in Africa. I had gone there for a conference but also to get some data collected.  The principal of the school had been very kind to me and said I could ride with him to the school.  So, I did.

Durban is a beautiful city.  And like all cities, it has its parts.  The developed, the organized, that the inhabitants of the city consider 'upscale'.  Then there are those parts that the developed world knows the city by, the crime ridden, the disorganized, and the chaotic.

In between there are schools.  Providing hope. 

The young are not yet cynical, their aspirations have not yet calicified, and they still believe they can change the world.  Schools are often characterized by laughter, play and some work.  For the most part, the young enjoy school -- at least the companionship of their peers.

I had already been to this school for a film screening during Durban Film Festival, a week before.  I had enjoyed being at the school so much.  Even though I enjoy universities, schools are bustling with even more energy.

And university here in Europe is pretty tame.  I am already forgetting the excitement that one feels on a campus.

So, I was looking forward to spending the day at the school and trying to get some research done.

The moment Mr. N., the principal parked his car, we were greeting by four young 'learners' as the students are called.  The Peon (its been ages since I used the word), claimed that they were all late.  And the learners disagreed with the Peon/Guard.

"No Sir, we came in time, the bell rang after we were here"

Mr. N, who had been having a very cordial, very friendly discussion with me was stern and stared at the boys, 'Who is tell the truth, you decide among yourself and tell me then'

'They came after the bell rang' said Sepo, the Peon.

'No, Sir, Sepo is not right here.'

This went on for a few minutes.

But I was fascinated with how polite the boys were with the Principal.  Not afraid, but polite.  As if there was an underlying understanding that the each regards the other.   The Principal expressed his disgust at the tardiness of the boys, asked them if they had stopped somewhere to have cigarettes, and then told them to help him get his things out of the car.

As one of them was closing the boot, Mr. N, said, 'wait, cant you see there are things there in there.'

All the boys started to giggle.   There were some twigs, that seemed to have been prepared for grafting.

'Ok, I have a job for you all' said Mr. N.

He handed out one twig to each of the boys.

'I want you all to get a hoe from Alex...' and two boys already started giggling, 'dig a hole about --this long' he held out his lower arm.

The boys' body was shaking in a soundless giggle.  

The Principal knew what he was doing.  He was not punishing them.  He was making them accountable.  He did it with all seriousness, yet taking the youthfulness of the boys into consideration.

' and then you water the plants.  You do that for the next two years.   If they die...you will be in trouble.   If they live, we will put your name on them!"

'Thank you Sir'  a chorus.

'Now, go on...' Mr. N, moved his arm in the air.  And as he turned towards me, he was smiling. I had had a hard time keeping a straight face.  I had been a witness to, party to that situation so many times on both sides.

During the day, I met many other teachers, and students (learners).  I was so touched so see the students come and give hugs to their teachers.  

'They do that?"  I asked, in surprise.

'Yeah, our learners are very affectionate' said the beautiful math teacher, who told me that she loves her job.

I also met the HomeEc teacher, who gushed about her work.  I told them both that I had taught both math and home ec. The latter in Botswana.    

I walked around the school.  It was chilly.  My extremities were cold.  I was wearing a light sweater. The same that I wore on midsommar here in Sweden!!

After talking to faculty at the lunch hour and asking people to respond to some questionnaires, Mr. N. took me around to show the 'garden project'--organic farming, school library, and few other things.  As we were walking towards the car, I saw the three of the four boys who we met in the morning standing waiting for Mr. N.

'What are you doing here boys?"  Mr. N. commented. 

Mr. N. seemed to have eyes all over his head.  He would be talking to one learner, while commenting on the other ones.  That is when he spotted some learners in 'non-school' colors, and said, 'that color is hurting my eyes.' a hint about his dislike of breaking the code (not rules).

'Sir, Mr. N, we needed to know....' and they were each holding the twigs given to them a few hours ago.  

'Give this to me.' snapped Mr. N. in mock anger, 'Do you know what it is?  do you know....'

"Yes, Yes Sir, we do, ' interrupted the boy with confidence. "Sir, we have them in our house, we use it to make hedge, yes, I know....'

"No, it grows up to be a big, almost tree, like that....' Mr. N. pointed at a bougainvillea.

'....Yes, I know....' and the boy paused in shock, "what it grows up to be like that......??'  and he gave a buffoon-like look, that I knew all too well from teaching young boys, years ago.  

I could not hold my laughter any more, I turned around and started giggling.

"Give it to me...' said Mr. N. 'Go on now, and do not ever be late again.'

The boys left giggling...and I ran after  them....'Please boys, can I take a picture....?"

Shortly, after I took this picture, the fourth boy came running.  He had a twig in his hand. 

While, all of this had a purpose, it was all a sort of a play.  The boys knew that they they were late and must bear a bit of embarrassment, Mr. N. knew that it was not such a big lapse on their part. Both knew it was play, both knew what the rules were.  In that role playing, they were respecting each other, holding up an idea/ideal, yet not taking making a big deal out of something that we all do.  

Both sides played into the little drama acted out on an ordinary day at school!! 

I miss that.  I used to have that in the US sometimes.  But since then the classes have been too small to have that energy.  While I enjoyed my work at Fiji, the students were too few in number and it took away the energy, even though it made it more personal.  Here in Sweden, we hardly have that, University works very differently.  

Ordinary school days are made of so many of those silly memories, where we all played clowns or enjoyed our classmates acts.

I miss it all.  At the end of the day, despite the cold, I walked out of the school with heart that felt like it had been on a 'keep warm' for a few hours.

Mysigt!! (Cozy)

Dreaming in a new Language!! Antligen, Finally!!

Quintessential Swedish View, from my window, A winter ago

You know something has shifted when you start dreaming in a new language.  

Yes, it finally happened.  

I was chatting in fluent Swedish in my dream when someone said, 'Please speak in english there are three others in the meeting who do not understand Swedish.'

Hours after I woke up, I was still in that trance.  That feeling that I could talk to myself only in Swedish. It was really strange. 

I got about 100 hrs (Sweden works on hours) the first semester I was here to learn the language.  But you know the first semester is so hard.  Learning the culture, learning your way around town, learning a new system at the university  teaching new courses and always dealing with life choices when you are a single person.

So that first semester even though I thought i was making progress, since I love languages, nothing much happened.

I had to move into a new place the next semester and we got a private teacher.  About four of us.  Eight classes a semester.  Definitely not enough.  

But I would do the home work as much as I could. From those days I remember two things.  1. Memorising swedish rules for grammar, much of which still helps me today.  2. Trying to forget Spanish, since that was the last 'foreign language' I pursued'.   I came to the level of elementary conversation in Spanish, but lost it when I left the US.

The year after that, I was still not sure if I will stay in Sweden, but I continued to work and learn as much as I could.  At the time, I was supposed to move to Canada.  Btw, I have taught new courses every semester but one since my stay in Sweden.

It took me about two years to unpack, and create a home.  In fact, I had to ask students to help, even pay people to help me unpack.  

Around the time our departments merged and all the emails started to come in Swedish with a short english translation. 

Also that without learning Swedish I could not stay here long.  I understand that. I had wanted to leave anyway.  But for the love of Sweden and for the love of languages I continued.

For 2013 and 2014 I enrolled in SFI, Swedish for Invandare. Swedish for Immigrants a free program run by Swedish government.  I was not informed that i could attend the program only once a week.  I had thought it was an everyday program and it was not possible for me to attend it everyday.

After those two years, even though I got better, I could watch Swedish movies etc. here and there, I still found it difficult to speak.

Regardless, around 2015-2016 even when I had a private teacher, I started to work on duo lingo. For the last 2-3 years I have worked on Swedish anywhere from 10-30 minutes everyday, and sure can see the improvement.

I am still far -far-far from being fluent.  But I understand more and watch many Swedish programs.  Here if you are interested, watch this really old and classic movie.  Its interesting for me to see how different the culture was at the time. So rigid and restrictive but also with a focus on family and values.

Family is still quite important in Sweden, I would say --more so than the US.

Even today I get tired and slip back into english.  But I can hold phone conversations and face to face conversations with people who do not speak english at all and that to me is sort of commendable. Even though, I have to blend (combine--am using the english version of  Swedish 'bland')--to get through. 

So to dream two nights in a row in Swedish, I mean in fluent Swedish, now that's something!!

No matter where I go from here, Swedish and Sweden will always warm my heart, despite the harsh sounds in the language and despite its starkly dark and cold winters.

Why?

Because language reaches our hearts.  Language describes experience.  And because after experience and understanding, words are what link hearts.

And then there are certain words that can never be translated, e.g. Lagom!!

Lagom--go look it up!!