I've got a little list

I suppose I will tell the whole story later, but for now, let's stick with the short version, which is this: due in equal parts to a series of miscommunications and the slowness of the bureaucracy, I find myself temporarily unemployed. It's not ideal, of course, but I have been offered at least temporary employment (as soon as legally possible) to try to finish up one of the projects, so the situation is a little less stressful than it could be.

I knew back in January that I would be unemployed in February, and I thought it would be best if I could treat it as a month-long vacation. Nevertheless, I have been making Plans. Here was my list as of the end of January:

1. Write a post for the blog every day.
2. Finish the review paper I am working on with colleagues from UM.
3. Learn Swedish.
4. Watch TV, especially the Winter Olympics.
5. Become reacquainted with my long-dormant domestic skills: have dinner hot and on the table every night, etc.
6. Do a little here and there on the lake projects (i.e., the things I was hired here to do, in other words, WORK).
7. Relax.


#1? Let's just hustle past that one for now. Because I have been working rather a lot on #2, which as far as I know is now back on schedule and coming along. #3 is a work in progress; I have attended Swedish lunch a couple times (more on that later) and I am duly signed up for the free evening courses with svenska för invandrare, starting next week. More on #4 later. #5? Ah, well, so far, umm, no, not so much.

#6? I have really come to like my project, and for the first week of the month, I kept going on it, more or less as if nothing had changed, out of sheer inertia. I did come to my senses, though, when it became clear that my boss was perfectly willing to let me continue to work 10 hours a day, for no pay, if I so chose. She meant it in a kindly way, I think; she herself lives to work... well, anyway, it was an eye-opener. Hello, my name is Jennifer, and I am a workaholic. Time to start working a little harder on #7... err, you know what I mean.


Hours-later edit: I forgot two other things that I was going to do: write and essay to finish that Linnaeus course that I started last term, and finally read "The Silmarillion." The book was recalled by the library before I could even start it; as far as the course goes, hey, I've got all term to do it, right? (Can you guess why I didn't manage to finish it the first time?)

Kicksledding at Fjällnora

Last year we went to Sollentuna and then to Ekoln so that Joe could try his hand (feet?) at långfärdsskridskor, the long-distance skates favored by those who wish to travel or exercise on natural ice. But there is another option, the kicksled, or in Swedish, "spark" (which just means kick, but specifically means a violent sort of kick). Kicksleds are just that: lightweight, flexible, two-runner sleds with a seat on the front, traditionally used for getting you and all your gear out to the middle of a lake for ice fishing, and then providing you a seat while you fish. Joe wanted to try one out, as a more stable way to get some speed on the ice, and it also occurred to us that perhaps someone could sit on the sled while being pushed around by someone else.

So last week, when our Swiss friends G. and D. said that they had found a place where one could rent kicksleds, we were happy to give it a try. We drove through the snow-covered countryside for about 20 minutes east of town to Fjällnora friluftsområde, a recreation park situated on a lake called Trehörningen. In the winter, the lake freezes completely and several paths are regularly cleared of snow for skating, which means that the ice, while not Zamboni-smooth, is not too bumpy either. These places in Sweden seem to be quite civilized, with not only rentals but a cafe and restaurant available. You can even rent a portable 6-person wood-fired sauna to take out onto the ice, where they will also carve you a hole for polar-bearing. Later in February, there will be an organized night-skating, with the paths lit by torches.

The kicksled turned out to be a little more ricketty looking than I had anticipated, but after a 1km practice loop that seemed to go pretty well, we set off on a 5km loop around about half of the lake. There were a comfortable number of other people there—enough to feel social (everyone seems relaxed and happy when out for a skate) and safe (it is after all wild ice, and despite constant monitoring, people do go through it sometimes), but not so many people as to be crowded at all. Joe claims that the sled is easier to handle with a bit of weight on the seat, and I think maybe he's not just being gallant. The pace of the kicksled is brisk enough to really feel that one has some speed, and I was glad for a blanket over my lap and a scarf to pull up over my face. It was a beautiful day, not completely clear, but with enough sunshine to light up the frozen reeds and snowy pine trees lining the lake. I had privately predicted a spill, if we hit a rough patch of ice, but it never happened.

When we completed our round, we headed up to a picnic area to eat a little lunch of sandwiches, hot tea and cocoa, and peanut butter-oatmeal-chocolate chip cookies that Joe made last night. Lots of other people were having their lunch outdoors as well, but perhaps it would have been wiser to go into the building to eat... rather suddenly, we all realized (or admitted) that it was really quite cold, and maybe it was time to call it a day (-10C said the car thermometer when we went back, but I would have called it colder than that). So back to the car (with a brief pause to admire the fuzzy pony and furry goats at the petting zoo), and back to town for a couple cups of hot coffee at our place. It was a very pleasant way to spend a couple hours on a Sunday afternoon, and we hope to do it again while it's still the season.

It was lots of fun to ride on a kicksled, but what's it like to push one around? Not too bad, I guess, but more exact details will have to wait for next time: my driver, having had a hot shower, is now peacefully ensconced on the couch under a blanket, snoring gently.

Lost in the Woods

So I'm on my way to campus late Friday morning, biking through Stadsskogen just like I do every day now. It's been rather cold for the last week or so, staying below -10°C pretty much the whole week, so we still have all of our snow from Christmas, which makes for a pretty ride (further helped by all the hoarfrost that was left over from Thursday's freezing fog). Anyway, I'm about two-thirds of the way through when, turning a corner, I come across a woman on skis, standing at the crossing I'm about to pass, and she says something along the lines of, "Kunna jag fråga du…"

Anyway, even my broken Swedish is enough to understand when she asks if I know where Eriksberg is—after all, I live in Eriksberg. If there's one thing I know about Uppsala, it's how to get to Eriksberg. So I helpfully reply, "Ja, Eriksberg ligger där borta," pointing back the way that I came. At which point, hearing my accent, she did what all Swedes do: she immediately switched to English, and asked, "Is it very far?"

Even as I was saying, "No, it isn't very far…" I realized why she looked so dubious: she was on the ski trail, while I was on the sanded bike trail, not terribly useful to a skier. Anyway, as I tried to think of where the trail she was already on went to, she helpfully chimed in with the explanation, "You see, I am skiing through the woods, but I am cold now, and I want to go home."

I know I mentioned before that I got lost the very first time I tried to return through these woods, but did I ever mention the half-dozen times after that that I got lost coming home from class? Or the time that I tried to walk the nature loop, missed my exit, and wound up wandering around in a circle for hours as the sunlight faded and the temperature dropped? Either way, you'll understand that I was sympathetic to her dilemma. Eventually it turned out that she had a trail map with her, and after a few moments of figuring out how to read it upside down I was able to show her where she was right then (and it turned out that she didn't really want to get to Eriksberg at all, but rather the Sommarro parking lot, so it's a good thing she didn't take my original advice) and we agreed that by going straight ahead and taking the next right she should get to her car1.

As I started to go, I wished her luck, and she said, "Hopefully I will get home before dark!" which might be intended as a joke when uttered at 11 in the morning most places, but which I suppose might have been a serious concern in this case. I nearly replied that it didn't matter—the trail she was on is lit at night—but then I thought that perhaps that wasn't sending the right message2, so instead I just assured her that I had confidence in her ability to find the parking lot, and we went our separate ways.

There isn't really anything more to the story—it just struck me as a very Swedish morning, getting stopped as I bicycle to work to give directions to a lost cross-country skier.

1 In retrospect, I'm sure that right turn was her problem. This is the same loop I got lost on: it has a bunch of smaller trails that lead off it to various trailheads, but none of them are marked, so if you don't recognize your entrance when you see it again (from the other side) it's easy to miss it and just keep going until you start to wonder why you're passing that funny tree for the third time…

2 Although, as Jennifer pointed out when I got home, that would probably have been the most Swedish response I could have given!

Samma rutin som förra året…

Today is trettonde dag jul, and with it our second Swedish Christmas comes to a close. If last year I was struck by how very different Christmas traditions seemed in Sweden compared to the U.S., this year what seems even more striking is how very much the same it all seems as last year.

Swedes seem particularly hide-bound when it comes to the winter holiday season. As evidence, I present a tale of two television shows: Kalle Anka och kompisar, and Dinner for One. Kalle Anka, or Donald Duck as you know him, is an oddly popular comic book character in Sweden, a fact which is perhaps related to the staggering and inexplicably enduring popularity of the Kalle Anka Christmas special here. The show in question is the 1958 Walt Disney Christmas special, and it has been shown on Swedish television on Christmas Eve at 3 PM every year since 1959—exactly the same cartoons, only a couple of them Christmas related in any way (and one of those complete with the awkward racism so typical of Disney cartoons from the 30s), with a live narrator every year translating for the kiddies (the cartoons are in English, with Swedish subtitles). OK, so they show the same thing every year, what's the big deal, right? Consider this: in a bad year, Kalle Anka pulls in maybe a little over 3 million viewers in Sweden—it may not sound like much, but its one third of the population of the country, and some years its closer to half. That's right, half the population of the country watches this one show. Live, mind you, they watch it live—I've yet to meet a Swede who would contemplate taping Kalle Anka.

The result is that all of Christmas Eve is scheduled around this TV show. The shops close at 2 so that everyone can get home in time to watch it. The annual concert with the royal family from the palace chapel ends abruptly before Kalle Anka time, presumably so that someone can wheel out a big screen TV for Victoria, Carl Phillip and Madeleine to watch the duck.

Dinner for One is Kalle Anka's New Year's Eve counterpart; not only did it provide the title of this post, its also something of a synecdoche of the Swedish holiday season. Unless you've lived in Northern Europe (a German speaking country, Scandinavia, or the Baltic states, specifically), you've probably never heard of this 11 minute comedy sketch. Despite the fact that it is performed in English by English actors, it has never been shown on TV in either the US or the UK. It was recorded in 1963 for German television, and was rebroadcast a few times as filler because it was an odd length. Over the years it garnered quite a following, spreading outside of Germany. Swedish Television didn't originally want to touch it (because the butler gets quite drunk), but gave in in 1969. Since 1972 it's been a New Year's tradition, which SVT titles Grevinnan och Betjänten. I don't know how many people watch it each year, but absolutely every Swede knows the punchline:

Butler: Same procedure as last year, Miss Sophie?
Countess: Same procedure as every year, James.

Is it, as one of Jennifer's co-workers claimed, the funniest sketch in the English language? Doubtful, but there's no denying that it is amusing. I won't even attempt to describe it—after all, it's the digital age, you should take 11 minutes and watch it for yourself.

God jul 2009 och gott nytt år 2010

Happy 2010, everyone! We had a busy time before the holidays, as Joe had exams and project due right up until the 23rd, and I have quite a lot to do at work just now, either in preparation for leaving my job soon (yes, it will be two years at the end of this January), or, preferably, preparing to carry on with the project for another year (fingers crossed). Joe has also had a cold for a while, and frankly we were just so exhausted by the time jul came around that we mostly sat around and complained. But a few nice things have happened, so here's a run down of the last two weeks.

Joe had his (hopefully) final final exam starting at 08.00 on the morning of 19 december, which you may notice is a Saturday. It was quite cold, completely dark, ice-covered, and starting to snow as I waved goodbye to him from our tiny balkong; unlike most of his previous exams, he had no adventures with flat tires.

As some of you already know, we have been cat sitting for a professor that I know who went back to the States for a couple of weeks. The cat's name is Max, only six months old, and he's quite amiable most of the time and a real charmer when he wants to be. We plan to use him to try to lure Joe's niece into taking notice of us during a Skype call soon (she never has before, but we have it on good authority that she likes to Skype with cats).

On juldagen, the upstairs neighbor has decided to make a few hundred American-style pancakes for his birthday party (in January), and rather early in the morning he came down to get Joe to try a few to check for quality. Joe came back downstairs with a plateful of them, and the yummy smell woke me up. The neighbor himself came down for a visit in the early afternoon, and we had a nice fika including strong coffee and cookies and various treats, none of which really seemed to sober him up completely. For dinner we had julskinka which is really tasty. Joe headed to bed early, while I stayed up to Skype home and say hello and Merry Christmas to everyone.

We had a cold snap in the week before jul (around -16C during the day), but then it warmed up and was grey and rainy on jul itself, and we didn't go out, unlike last year. But there have been some beautiful days since then, and we've taken a couple long walks through the fields and woods around our place. Today, for instance, we had some really interesting atmospheric conditions, with mostly clear skies but a continual light fall of snow flakes, which gave us a sun pillar and a snöbåge, which I don't remember ever seeing before. Plenty of other people were out walking, kids were playing in the snow, and everyone who had skies was out and about on them; very cheering and festive. Just to show two seasons of the same place, I sat in the same place as I did for that lovely weekend of reading last summer; here's the pictures contrasting then and now.

We spent New Year's Eve in the company of our Swiss friends G. and D. This party included two Swiss, two Amis, one Dane, one Swede, one Canuck, and one Spaniard who more or less confessed that he found Sweden a little cold this time of year. Just like last year, there were plenty of local fireworks to keep me happy, and their second-floor apartment is nicely situated for seeing the official fireworks display at the castle. There were also lots of Chinese lanterns, which really did have us thinking about UFOs. We spent the night at their place, and breakfasted on pannetone and Bloody Marys, a very pleasant start to the New Year.

Hälsingar från Sverige, and best wishes to everyone for 2010.

Lucia Dag 2009

Last Sunday, 13 december, was St. Lucia day, which as you all remember from last year is an important holiday in this quite non-Catholic country. The day is marked with singing, and candles, and the consumption of glögg and lussekatter. School choirs earn a lot of money on this day, as they shuttle around from workplace to workplace giving carol concerts. Ours started at 09.30 on Friday the 11th, and this year I went early to ensure a good view in the high-ceilinged, echo-y central stairwell of the evolution museum. The concert was lovely, and was followed by a division-wide fika with the aforementioned glögg (yes, mulled wine at 10.00) and lussekatter (which do ameliorate the glögg somewhat).

The weekend was quite nice, as the sun came out on Saturday, and we took a walk down the road towards the nature reserve, past the horse farms and barns, some of which now have jul decorations. They were also having some sort of horsey meeting, and giving pony rides, so the equine traffic on the path was heavier than usual. The next day, Luciadag proper, I set out to the Soldattorpet, where they were having a Luciafika (Joe had a bit of a sniffle so he stayed home). Inside was extremely atmospheric—the pictures are blurry but I think give you an idea of the atmosphere. There were several families there, and a fire in the hearth and candles on the table, more lussekatter and home-made spice bread and coffee, and carol singing, which I almost dared to join in on, a little (quietly, to myself, don't worry). One kid had an absolute screaming fit at one point, something one doesn't see too often here, but s/he was trundled out into the cold. Looking back at that picture, I think it may have been the little girl in the pink shirt hoisting the Lucia crown. If so, I bet I know why she had a fit: she was made to give back the Lucia crown, and she did not want to.

That, of course, is the ugly downside to Lucia... every year, thousands of schoolgirls have their hearts broken by not being appointed Lucia. I did not have to have to give up my crown (you may remember my artistic triumph (that's a joke) as the departmental Lucia last year—I'll dig out a picture tomorrow), because we didn't have an additional party in the department. The weather has got everyone down, even the Swedes but especially the foreigners (Swiss postdoc G. at fika one morning, as the orange he was trying to peel slipped from his grasp and hit the floor: "It's so depressing even the oranges are committing suicide!"), and somehow, I guess it just didn't feel right this year. Oh well, I guess I'll have to be the titular Lucia for yet another year...