Change of Plans!

My Europe blog will soon be moving to a wordpress account.  This should make the blog more user-friendly for my readers that do not have a tumblr account.  wordpress also offers email subscriptions for people who do not have blogs.  The address will remain the same, but instead of .tumblr, it will be .wordpress  

It’s Been a Month

I left the little yellow farmhouse in The Middle of Nowhere, TX for the last time at approximately 10am on December 28th.  It is now January 28th.  I have the weirdest split, in which part of me is in disbelief that it’s been one month already, whilst the other half of me screams, ‘It’s ONLY been a MONTH?!’  Funny how time does that.

A lot has happened in the month that has just passed, and since I have only had internet at my house for 48 hours of that 31 days, I haven’t logged most of it.  So I’ll give you 31 highlights, in order of what comes to my mind and completely disregarding if some of these happened on the same day.

1.  Getting locked in a luggage closet with my brother and dad…and our luggage.

2.  Riding a public bus for the first time.

3.  Riding in a taxi for the first time.

4.  Going grocery shopping in a foreign land where the employees, fellow shoppers, intercom, food labels, sale prices, and instructions on the boxes were all using a different a language.

5.  Cooking 31 successfully delicious meals with ingredients from said strange grocery store.

6.  Realizing our house didn’t come with a coffee pot.  It came with a French press.  Morning coffee has been revolutionized.  

7.  Seeing ice in the ocean from the airplane.

8.  Riding a bus that suddenly stopped in the middle of the road and enduring slight panic as the bus driver explained - in Swedish - what was going on, watching the other passengers leave the bus, and trying to find someone to translate.

9.  Completely forgetting my bus pass, money and cell phone (NEVER would’ve happened in the states!) and having to walk 4 miles home.

10.  Stepping out of the plane in Copenhagen, Denmark and staring at all the snow, wondering what in the world I had just signed up for.

11.  TIRAMISU at Vespa!  

12.  Seeing a real live moose in the wild!

13.  Skyping my 3 favorite people in the world.  :)

14.  Exploring Stadsbiblioteket - the wonderful library in Malmö.  

15.  Writing poetry in a coffee shop.

16.  Building a desk/coffee table and BRIGHT RED SHELF of my very own.  : )

17.  My first day of class in a foreign country.  …And the 2 days later that I decided not to be in school. 

18.  Understanding the concept of ‘down blankets’, ‘ear muffs’, ‘snow boots’, and why you would want to take off your 85 layers and snowy boots before you walk all the way in the house.

19.  Keeping a skeleton key in my pocket all the time - because that’s actually the key to my house.

20.  Sitting in the window room, while thick snow is falling, reading my bible and sipping hot tea.

21.  Using a European curling iron - it shocked my teeth.  How did this happen?  It’s a long story, involving pizza, teeth whitener, a melted chi, and the Ex-Patriots society.

22.  FINALLY getting internet at the house.

23.  The amazing fireworks display that rang in 2011.

24.  Walking to the ocean and seeing the colorful boats in the icy harbor.

25.  Watching glass being melted and blown.

26.  Seeing men every day wearing bright red, corduroy, skin-tight skinny-let pants with bright scarves, and accepting that they might not actually be gay.  They could just be European.  In which case, they should never ever bring that outfit to the states… 

27.  Having beautiful fresh flowers in the house all the time!  It’s like a breath of fresh air to my heart.  : )

28.  Realizing that cookie sheets do not exist in Europe.  In fact, they don’t understand the concept of them.

29.  The first time I used the microwave and the power went out in the entire kitchen - and the pizza STILL didn’t get warm!

30.  Having white sheets with big red hearts on them.  They remind me of the cartoon mailman that always got his pants bit off by the mean dog when I was a little girl.  Remember?!  His boxers were always white with bright red hearts.  

31.  Eating European food.  End of story.

Written on Tuesday, Posted on Wednesday

Goodness gracious. It is only Tuesday night and this week has already been insane.

Yesterday my week started back as normal when my alarm when off at 640am (that’s right, folks. This is not actually vacation), and I headed to the library for some good old fashioned wi-fi. Dad dropped me off on his way to work, after taking Colton to school (playing taxi – what a man!). Friday afternoon of last week, I had received my first piece of mail. It was in Swedish. After having been out of town for the weekend, I brought the letter with me to the library to take advantage of Google Translate so I could figure out what the heck it said.

It reads:

ANTAGNINGSBESKED TILL KOMVUX VÅRTERMINEN 2011.

Du har blivit antagen till kurs 1 svenska för invandrare, SFI, på Komvux Södervärn. Information om kursstart för din kurs och plats finns i rutan nedan.

Kurs – SFI, Kurs C

Kursgrupp – SFI3Cny2

Beslut – Intagen

Startddatum – 2011-01-25

Starttid – K1 12.15, Sal: Paviljongen, sal 1

Ironically, this meant that I was accepted to a school to learn Swedish. Why they didn’t send this in English, since the letter clearly states that I am going to be LEARNING Swedish (as in, I don’t actually know what this letter says) is beyond me. But anyway. There was also a number to call to make sure I didn’t lose my spot in the class – which was starting the next day (today, since I’m writing this on Tuesday). So I reached into my bag for my phone. ….And had a slight panic attack.

When hastily moving my things from my purse to my laptop bag, I had forgotten a very important pocket. The pocket containing my cell phone, all my money, and….. MY BUS PASS. Thus, I found myself stranded in downtown Malmö, though not without options. I had my map. I had phone numbers written down. I had my laptop. I could go to the baguette shop across the street where I’m pretty sure the guy working there would let me borrow his phone since we are apparently bff’s. I could call a taxi. I looked at my map. Colton’s school is almost 3 miles from our house, but the library is even farther. However, the street the library is on is called Regementsgatan, and it turns into Erikslustgatan, and then to Linnégatan, which goes straight to downtown Limhamn and intersects with R.F.Bergsgatan. Our house is at the corner of R.F.Bergsgatan and Sveagatan.

I took a moment to contemplate this predicament. It was just before 11am. I had to be back in downtown Malmö to pick up Colton by 2:20. It was my fault I didn‘t have my bus pass or my money. Could I really ask someone else to drop what they were doing to come get me because I did something dumb? Could I really call a taxi and just expect my parents to literally pay for my mistake?

I made my choice. I shouldered my backpack, zipped up my jacket, put in my ipod, and I walked. And walked. And walked. And WALKED. For an hour and a half. I walked roughly 4 miles in the freezing cold with a backpack that weighed almost as much as I do.

And guess what?

I bet I’ll never forget my bus pass again.

Luckily, I was looking for a different way to work out that day. Got what I asked for. Cool.

I will say that I was pretty impressed with myself for never having to check my map after I left the library. I always knew exactly where I was, and could even name the bus stops before I got to them. I was also pleased to see how fast I recovered. I sat down for about 10 minutes, drank a big glass of water, and then I was up. I fixed myself some lunch, put my backpack back on, and was back out the door in less than 30 minutes to walk some more.

As for class.

I found my way to the school (I had to ride a 3 bus. I never ride that one) with no problem, and walked up to the receptionist. I showed her my letter, and she informed me that I would be in the Paviljongen, room 1. I had gotten there early – about noon and class was to start at 12:15. I walked across campus to class. The professor entered at about 12:20. She looked at me. “I think you’re in the wrong room. Do you have a note or something? I don’t think you’re supposed to be here.” I showed her my letter. “Oh, no. You are definitely in the wrong place. We switched rooms. You are in building C on the 4^th floor.”

Awesome.

So I walked back across campus and up a million stairs to room C411. It was locked. I turned to someone who looked official, “Excuse me, can you help me find my class?” I was informed that I was, again, in the wrong place and I should return to the receptionist. The receptionist was distressed that I had walked around and hadn’t found my class. She checked some things on the computer, made some phone calls, and sent me to the room right next door to the room I had originally walked to.

I stood outside the door. I was 30 minutes late. In Sweden, it is considered extremely rude to keep someone waiting. It is simply not done. Social taboo. I took a deep breath, psyched myself up, and marched right in. There were around 20 people (ages ranging from 23-50) staring at me. The professor stopped teaching and stared as well. I walked right up, smiled, held out my letter, and told her, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but, can you tell me if I’m in the correct room? I have been sent all over campus.”

I was in the correct class, finally, but as it turns out, the class started 3 weeks ago. So I was 3 weeks and 30 minutes late. I don’t know about you, but that is my absolute favorite way to start something. Not.

The professor was extremely nice. She gave me all kinds of information about the class and told me that if I had any problems or thought I was too far behind, she would be more than willing to work with me outside of class. The class itself is completely different than any sort of college class I’ve ever taken. You are not looked down upon for walking in late (I worried for nothing, apparently. Although as I was the new kid 3 weeks in, it was a slightly different story) or leaving early, because they know that you have things to do. This one class is taught every day, Monday-Friday, from 12:15-3:30, and I am expected to attend every one of them. There is a 30 minute break, but they are aware that not everyone wants a half hour break. So if you’d like, you can stay in the classroom and review and practice Swedish. As the professor put it, you choose how long and what kind of break you would like. I am also given a special kind of student’s insurance, even though I am not a citizen and am only expected to be here for a year. This insurance states that if I am in any sort of accident on the way to school, the school will take care of me. It’s free. I got paperwork on this. The professor also gave out her cell phone number and email address.

I learned a lot about Swedish, having previously only picked things up from context clues and asking the locals. The professor came and worked with me several times. She asked me if I’d ever studied Swedish before. I said no. She asked me to say some phrases. When I complied, she looked at me and said, ‘Are you sure you have never taken Swedish? How long have you been here?’ ‘Less than a month. No, I’ve never studied this language. I only know things from the bus and the grocery store.’ She looked at me. ‘Your accent and pronunciation is perfect. I can’t believe it.’ SWEET.

On our break, some of my classmates came up to talk to me. “You are from the United States, no?” “Um, yeah…” “We could tell when you walked in the door, before you even said anything.” The eavesdroppers nodded. Hmmm. Just when I was thinking I was getting all classy and European….  

Highlights

THIS WEEK:

We still don’t have internet. There are apparently some technological complications that are being worked on. I’ll let you know how that goes…

My mother and I attended a luncheon with the Ex-Patriots Society. There were around 25 ladies there from all over the world. They have a coffee club and a once a month luncheon. They all speak English! We enjoyed ourselves.

I made a dessert with spaghetti noodles! This is only significant because I have been thinking about doing this for weeks. It didn’t hold a candle to another dessert I recently invented that I call ‘sweet bread’, but it was still yummy.

The public bus system is no longer a mystery to me. I can read all the maps and the bus schedules. I can look at where I need to go and find the right bus to get me there at the right time. I have even been experimenting with other routes.

Note: Sometimes bus drivers let my brother ride for free.

I got to skype 2/3 of my favorite people!! Now if only I could get a certain someone (she knows who she is. She is stalking this blog. Right even now I bet you) to quit trying to be mysterious (or just get some sleep, since I’m on skype when it’s the middle of the night in Texas) and freaking skype me already. Cheese and rice.

I successfully cooked salmon that my family loved. This is a big deal for several reasons:

1. My parents do not like salmon.

2. I had never had salmon in my life.

3. Salmon is really healthy for you.

I cleaned out my belly button with a cotton swab. It wasn’t particularly dirty or anything. But that is just the weirdest feeling…

I received my first non-government-related piece of mail! Unfortunately, it is all in Swedish. Thus, I cannot read it. However! I signed up for classes last week (or maybe the week before that. Time moves in little trickles and great drops. I can’t keep up), and it looks suspiciously like a letter telling me about my classes. Looks like I start on Monday.

My mom and I went back to that super cute sandwich shop by the library. The same two people were working. The guy remembered us and what we got. He keeps adding things to my sandwich, even though he quotes it perfectly back to me. This time it was yogurt. He has no idea what a ‘BLT’ is. I gather he finds that a pretty limited sandwich. Perhaps this is his way of telling me to branch out… He also didn’t know what lettuce was. They call it ‘salat’ here, and a salad in the states (as a dish) is spelled the same way here. Anyway. He asked us to explain it all to him and to write ‘lettuce’ so he could learn it. He also asked what the appropriate response to ‘thank you’ was in English.

Hi, my name is Courtney. I make friends with sandwich shop employees in Europe. No big deal.

SHOUT OUT:

I want to make a shout out to Cynthia Stuart. I have been thinking about you. And that time you sang parts of Christmas carols seemingly at random. That was pretty cool of you. I hope you’re doing well.   

Cinnamon Rolls

my life is

a pan of fresh, hot

cinnamon rolls

all sticky and delicious

my life is

a quiet coffee shop

on a cobblestone street

in a European town

my life is

a child’s first time

to see snow falling

twirling, soft, white

my life is

the phone call from

Adventure, begging me

to dare to take the risk

my life is

chipped orange nail polish

the first freedom from

prior commitments

my life is

the smile that

lights up my face when

you have written me again

my life is

a sophisticated cup of

coffee, black with

no sugar, and hot, please

my life is

a purple pen

and a willing

empty notebook

my life is

FULL, and
I absolutely

love it