| Sunday, August 31, 2008 |
| Stockholm Diary #15: Dogs |
It seems like everyone in Stockholm has either a dog or a baby. Sweden is in the midst of a baby boom, and everywhere you go here, you see people pushing baby carriages. Many stores and cafes have special "parking" for the bulky strollers. Also, if you have an infant, you can ride free on the buses here! You don't even need a special pass to show the driver -- just get on through the bus's center doors with your baby carriage. Naturally, it occurred to me that a non-parent could save a fortune on bus fare if one bought a cheap used baby buggy, put a doll in it, and covered the doll with a blanket. "Quiet, she's sleeping!" Does anyone ever check? Of course, this is a country where tons of people either don't bother locking their bikes or use locks that look unbelievably flimsy compared to the ones riders use in the U.S., so maybe Swedes are a fairly honest lot.
There are no special deals like that for dog owners, but you are allowed to bring your dog on the bus, too -- you just need to sit towards the back. You also see a lot more dogs in shops and outdoor cafes than you do in the States, and no matter what time of day you go out, you'll see people walking dogs. They pass my window all day long. Jack Russell terriers seem to predominate, but I've also seen lots of pugs, chihuahuas and larger mixed breeds. So far, I've only seen one Boston Terrier, on my first full day here.
A couple of days ago, we finally met the woman who manages this rental unit. She's been on vacation all month long -- she had a deep tan, as the ideal Swedish holiday seems to be traveling to warmer climes (and who can blame them, since it's already crisp and fall-like here). Usually this apartment is a short-term rental, but we got it all month since the manager wouldn't be on hand to wash the linens and give the key to the new tenants. She said that it had been great to have longer-term tenants, and hoped that we would be back again -- maybe next summer? We love the apartment and the location can't be beat, but realistically, it seems unlikely that we'll be taking such lengthy trips on a regular basis. As I've mentioned, the only reason we did it this time is because Hobie's passing meant there wasn't a little furry creature to take into account.
I can totally understand why people think dogs are too much responsibility -- it's not like having cats, where someone just needs to come by once a day for 10 minutes to scoop the poop and pour some kibble in a bowl. Dogs are demanding and needy. Even if you have a doggie door, they need company and exercise. Sometimes I think it would be easier not to get another dog, as we could travel more freely and even at home, I could plan all our activities without having to worry about leaving the dog alone for too long a time. And yet, I desperately miss the company a dog provides. It has been hard for me to come home to an empty house during the past few months.
A couple of weeks ago, the rescue organization from which we adopted Hobie emailed me to ask if I'd be interested in meeting a new dog after we return home. Yes, I responded, although I won't know until we meet him whether or not I am ready. He is a primo rescue dog -- fairly young, purebred, no health issues -- so if things don't work out with us, there will be no problems finding him a home. No pressure.
Looking around at all the people on the street walking their dogs, I find myself envying them, thinking, That was me, once. No other dog will ever be Hobie, but I hope I can build a new and different relationship someday with another dog. Whether it'll happen soon or further down the road is a question I can't answer yet. |
posted by 125records @ 1:37 PM  |
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| Wednesday, August 27, 2008 |
| Stockholm Diary #14: Burned Out |
This is the closest I've ever come to being burned out: I was working for a nonprofit organization back in the 90s that advocated for and assisted survivors of trauma, including people who had endured childhood sexual abuse or combat (primarily the Vietnam War at that point, though I imagine they have their hands full today with Iraq and Afghanistan war vets). I never dealt directly with the traumatized people, I was working there as the admin, but after a couple years, I started to feel weighed down by the sad stories that were heard in those offices on a daily basis. At the time, the organization had four full-time employees; two of the people could compartmentalize the pain and suffering and two of us could not, and we both wound up quitting (the other woman eventually opened a gift shop in a posh part of town). Anyway, I switched careers, and that was that. When I get stressed out these days, I go for a walk, or have a cup of tea and read Defamer. When you are self-employed with 50+ clients, you have to stay on your toes.
One of the things that fascinates me most about Sweden is the phenomenon of burnout. Everywhere I look around Stockholm, people seem to be taking it easy; the cafes are full of people enjoying coffee or wine at all hours of the day, and as I've previously pointed out, they're not working on laptops, they're usually chatting with friends. On a (rare!) sunny day in the park, I spotted numerous people on park benches working on crossword puzzles and reading gossip mags. And yet, on any given day, 13 percent of working-age Swedes collect sick benefits—a greater percentage than in any other Western nation (Newsweek). From the same article:
The biggest reason for taking time off: stress, anxiety, depression and a condition called "dejection" made up 33 to 40 percent of all sick-leave cases in 2006. Anna-Maria Lindsten, a 42-year-old health-services worker, collected 80 percent of her salary in sick pay for more than six years after being diagnosed in 2000. The government's attempt to limit paid time off to just a few weeks left her alarmed. "You can't just force people to go back to the workplace that made them sick," she says. "They need to give people help to build themselves back up, and that can take time." Now, if you're an American who is used to working 10-hour-plus days for crummy pay and no benefits, stretching your pitiful salary to the limit to afford child care, and having to fight for a week or two of vacation, you're probably thinking, "Boo hoo, poor Swedes." And yet, when a more conservative government was voted in and tried to crack down on sick leave, people got angry (which led to some backtracking).
If you're a regular reader, you know we at the Conical Glass do not believe in things like "research," instead offering the casually tossed-off or half-assed opinion -- you don't want us to become burned out at blogging, do you? However, in this case, I decided it was important to put in some extra effort and get the true Swedish point of view. I asked my aunt, who retired 10 years ago from her private-sector job, if she had ever known anyone on the job who experienced burnout, and she said no, the condition didn't exist back in her day. As in the U.S. today, you struggled through and counted the days 'til retirement (years ago, a cousin of ours could literally tell you how many months, days and hours she had left on the job). Then I asked Joe to interview his work colleagues. He said none of them had personally been burned out but they all seemed to think it was a serious issue and expressed a lot of sympathy for people who experienced job stress.
I asked myself, when I was at my old job, if I'd had the opportunity to go on disability and earn 80% of my pay, would I have done it? Heck yeah. I mean, eventually I probably would have gotten bored and found something else to do, but if there's no stigma attached, why not take the leave? If you have a crummy boss, annoying co-workers and no hope of job advancement... well, why go to the trouble of finding a new job when the government is willing to pay you not to work.
I'm sure a certain percentage of the people who are utbränd are indeed so anxious and depressed that they are seriously ill, but when you're talking about such vast numbers in the workforce, I refuse to believe that nobody is gaming the system. But as long as most Swedes are OK with their tax dollars going to support their burned-out colleagues, it seems doubtful that a drastic change in the number of people taking paid sick leave is going to occur.
Further reading from the BBC and The Local |
| posted by 125records @ 6:43 AM |
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| Sunday, August 24, 2008 |
| Stockholm Diary #13: Food |
A guest blog by Joe
As I mentioned in my previous post, Swedes love to eat fish. Their palates are not limited, though. One of the things I love about Sweden is the korvkiosk - hot dog stand. There's one on every other corner, ready to serve up a grilled frank or kielbasa for about $2. They're good hot dogs, too - Sabrett-style, not Hebrew National (although I like both). You can have the hot dog on a regular bun or, for a buck extra, wrapped in a tortilla-like thing with mashed potatoes. Yes, mashed potatoes. I haven't tried that yet, but I plan to.
For a couple dollars more, you can get the hot dog in half a hollowed-out baguette. That's called a French hot dog. That creamy white stuff in the picture? Mayonnaise! Yes, mayonnaise on a hot dog. That's one thing to watch for in Sweden - mayo in strange places. The first week I was here, I went out to lunch with my coworkers. We went to Texas Beef Co., a hamburger place in a local food court. I ordered a regular burger - nothing special. What was on it? Mayo! What the--? From then on, I've been vigilant.
The best korv I've had so far was in Skåpafors, the village where my mother-in-law was born and raised. We spent a weekend there, and the only store in the immediate area is a korvkiosk. (It also sells newspapers, milk, and a couple other staples.) It wasn't the hot dog that was so great, though - it was the French Fries I got with the hot dog. I'm not sure how they were prepared, so I'll assume they were fried in yummy sauce & sprinkled with tasty salt (probably MSG). So savory! Sue even tried some and agreed with me. I got the first batch on Saturday, and kept raving about them so much, we went back on Monday before we left to get another batch.
Lest you think I eat nothing but junk, I will describe my dinner Saturday night at Falkholts, a converted schoolhouse near Dals Långed, not far from Skåpafors. The restaurant prides itself on using local ingredients, and offers a "Wild Menu", three dishes made from local wild animals. Since it was unlikely I'd have the opportunity again any time soon, I set right to that.
We were celebrating my father-in-law's birthday, and first up was an amuse bouche of crayfish soup, a caper, and a slice of moose heart. My first course was wild boar carpaccio with goat cheese and a lingonberry vinaigrette, topped with an apricot & fig compote. Stunning - all of it. The compote was sweet, and the boar was strong, but complemented perfectly by the sourness of the cheese. The second course was smoked beaver on a bed of herb-infused cottage cheese. The beaver was in chunks the size of a baby's fingernail, and was, well, smoky - not much of a specific taste to it. I don't like cottage cheese, so that went to my father-in-law.
The entree was moose in a red wine & chanterelle sauce with mashed parsnips and white asparagus. Several others at the table were having the same dish, with veal instead of moose. The moose's gaminess reinforced the sourness of the sauce in a way the the veal couldn't. While the parsnips were bland, the asparagus (a recently acquired taste) was delicious - fresh and crisp. All in all, a delicious and rare dining experience, thanks to the very generous birthday boy.
On the way home from Falkholts, Sue's mom asked if I wanted to stop at the kiosk for French fries. I declined. There's only so much fine dining one can take.
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| posted by 125records @ 7:12 AM |
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| Wednesday, August 20, 2008 |
| Stockholm Diary #12: Movies |
James asked about movies in yesterday's comments section, and luckily my cousin was able to answer his queries, but anyone coming to Sweden hoping to discover the next Bergman will be very disappointed. The listings for the closest multiplex show the following films are playing today:
"Batman: The Dark Knight"
"Don't Mess with the Zohan"
"Hancock"
"Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull"
"Kung Fu Panda" (dubbed or subtitled)
"The Love Guru"
"Mamma Mia"
"The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor"
"Sex and the City"
"Space Chimps"
"Star Wars: The Clone Wars"
"The X-Files: I Want To Believe"
On occasion a Swedish film will play at a festival or special screening in San Francisco and I'll look it up on IMDB.com and invariably there will be some comment about how it sucks because all Swedish movies suck. ("I don't know what's wrong with us Swedes. It's as if our taste in movies descends to the pits of hell when the origin of the movie is Swedish." -IMDB user "mooshpit" on "Paradiset," a film I saw and thought was quite OK.) Lukas Moodysson, who made the popular and beloved films "Together" and "Show Me Love" (both released in the U.S.), made the extremely dark "Lilya 4-Ever" and the darker "Hole in My Heart" instead of becoming the next great popular Swedish director. Moodysson is currently making a film in English called "Mammoth," which got some press in the States earlier this year because it's the movie Heath Ledger's ex, Michelle Williams, was working on when he died.
On Friday a big Swedish movie will finally be released here to compete with the American blockbusters: "Arn: The Kingdom at Road's End," the sequel to last year's "Arn: The Knight Templar." (The films are based on popular novels by Jan Guillou.) The first film grossed $10 million in Sweden, according to IMDB, but it didn't even come close to the success of the year's biggest box office success, "Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End."
One of the biggest disappointments for me is that when films are released here, the titles are given only the most literal translations -- for instance, "Natt på museet" for "A Night at the Museum." I assume the thinking is that young cinemagoers grew up learning English in school and watching American TV shows and movies, there's no need to put any effort into coming up with a new title. Even "Space Chimps," which presumably is aimed at the very youngest age group, wasn't renamed, say, "Rymd-apor" -- it's simply called "Space Chimps."
I used to get lots o'laughs from the crazy titles American movies were given here, but those days are over. A good example of the contrast: Doris Day's classic "Pillow Talk" was renamed "I Hate You, Darling" ("Jag Hatar Dig, Älskling") when it was released here almost 50 years ago, but the modern film it inspired, Renee Zellweger's "Down with Love," was just called, you guessed it, "Down with Love." Some titles were quite clever: "Agent 007 Sees Red" was originally "From Russia With Love." And some created their own sort of branding: Mel Brooks' "The Producers" was released here as "Springtime for Hitler" ("Det våras för Hitler"), which led to a dozen similarly titled follow-ups: "Det våras för" Frankenstein ("Young Frankenstein"), rymden ("Spaceballs"), sheriffen ("Blazing Saddles"), stumfilmen ("Silent Movie"), värdshistorien ("History of the World, Part 1"), galningar (crazy people -- "High Anxiety"), etc. Even Joan Rivers' forgettable "Rabbit Test" was dubbed "Det våras för kaninerna" (rabbits), and I'm pretty sure Brooks had nothing to do with that one.
Learn more about Swedish title translations by taking this quiz. |
| posted by 125records @ 8:36 AM |
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| Tuesday, August 19, 2008 |
| Stockholm Diary #11: City/Country |
I sometimes wonder if my destiny was sealed on the day I was born right here in Östermalm, Stockholm -- I came into the world as a city girl, and from a frighteningly young age, I knew that I wanted to grow up and live in a big urban area someday. And indeed, when I'm not on the road, I live right between two of them (Oakland and San Francisco).
The first place I ever lived: Pilgatan 11, Stockholm
But when I was growing up, most of the time I spent in Sweden wasn't in Stockholm; it was in Skåpafors, where my grandparents lived, a tiny (current pop.: 313, according to Wikipedia) town in the western province of Dalsland, near the Norwegian border. Dalsland is kind of like the North Dakota of Sweden; most people have heard of it and are pretty certain that it exists, but couldn't name anyone in their circle of friends who's actually been there. Some people may confuse it with the similar-sounding Dalarna, home of the Dalahäst and a much more well-known province.
I've probably spent a year or so of my life, total, in Skåpafors. Whenever I go back, which I don't do terribly often (the last time I was there was in 2001), I am overwhelmed with a feeling of the impermanence of life: almost everyone I used to know there is dead. My grandparents died years ago; their three children, including my mother, still own the family home. The neighbors along Ekbacksvägen we used to visit are all gone now. When I was there 7 years ago, both of the next-door neighbors, Olga and Rune, were elderly but still alive. Now their house stands vacant and sad, a slap in the face to the once-meticulous owners; they left no heirs, so the home was left to a charity, which has yet to put it on the market. With no maintenance, I doubt it can survive another winter. I walked around it, remembering all of the cookies and Pommac soda I consumed there as a child, how Olga used to save months' worth of magazines for me so I could solve the crossword puzzles, the frantic barking of their dachshunds, which always seemed to be named Ginny and Nicke even when old ones passed and new ones came along.
On this trip, Joe and I stayed in the outbuilding where my grandparents always used to live when my family was visiting. There's no indoor plumbing there, so when I woke up early in the morning and needed to use the loo, I had to run across the gravel to the main house. When my mom was born, there wasn't indoor plumbing at all; there was an outhouse that used to be cleaned and maintained by a man with no sense of smell, making him the perfect person for the job.
I was able to check my mail once a day using the incredibly slow dial-up internet; it's strictly a cost-saving thing, since the house is unoccupied so much of the time. The young neighbor on the other side (whose house didn't even exist when I was a kid) has a satellite dish and high-speed everything. At night, Joe and I would watch episodes of "The Colbert Report" on our laptop, downloaded from iTunes before we left Stockholm. Things have changed, all right; back in the 70s, to be in Skåpafors was to be cut off from the world. If I wanted to stay in touch with friends back in the U.S., we had to do it via the mail. Michigan, and even Stockholm, felt a million miles away.
Joe and I spent the weekend in Skåpafors to help celebrate my dad's birthday; we were only there for 72 hours or so, but when we arrived back in Stockholm's central station right around rush hour last night, headlong into the overwhelming crush of people, it felt like a relief. That return has always felt that way, my whole life. Paradoxically, I've learned that if you're a loner at heart, it's much easier to live in a city of 2 million than in a town of 300.
Today, it wasn't raining, for a change, and I spent the afternoon walking around the Kungsholmen neighborhood of Stockholm, the neighborhood where I spent the first few months of my life. Kungsholmens church was open, with a sign inviting passers-by to stop in. I went inside and dropped 5 kronor in the metal collection box to purchase a candle. I lit it in honor of everyone in Skåpafors who has passed away. |
| posted by 125records @ 10:47 AM |
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| Thursday, August 14, 2008 |
| Stockholm Diary #10: Vacation |
The signs in the window say: "Vacation Again. Back Aug. 11 or 18, depending on the weather. Be careful with ticks, mosquitoes and gin & tonic."
When I was planning this trip, I took it for granted that it would not be a month's vacation. For one thing, Joe doesn't have enough days off, and for another, my business is a one-woman show and it could be fatal to tell my clients that I'd be incommunicado for all of August.
Joe's company is rather rare and special in that it offers employees a 5-week sabbatical every 5 years; longtime readers of this blog will remember my reports from the Southwest in 2006 as we drove around Arizona and New Mexico. (I, of course, brought a laptop along and worked along the way.) Since most companies don't offer this perk, we felt extremely lucky to have the opportunity to take advantage of it. However, if we lived in Sweden, a monthlong vacation wouldn't be a special, every-5-years kind of thing for people lucky enough to work at a particularly generous company. It would be an annual event.
That's right -- Swedes get a legally mandated 32 days off every year. Doesn't matter whether you're sweeping floors for a living or the CEO. A lot of Swedes go to the countryside for the entire month of July, and sometimes into August, which is why you see so many signs in businesses all over Stockholm telling you a certain shop is semesterstängt.
Sign reads: "Geco is closed for the summer, July 14-Aug. 11. Have a good summer."
In the U.S., a lot of people don't even use their paltry vacation days because, in some cases, the corporate culture frowns on taking days off, while others are afraid that if they leave their desk for too long, somone will realize they're not indispensable and the ax will fall. That attitude just doesn't exist here. People assume that vacation is good for you, and by extension, good for business.
If I lived here, it would be awfully tempting to give up self-employment so I could enjoy those guilt-free five weeks off every year. |
| posted by 125records @ 9:59 AM |
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| Wednesday, August 13, 2008 |
| Stockholm Diary #9: Rain! |
Right now, I'm looking out the window, and the sky is bright blue, with a few fluffy white clouds floating by. But I'm not fooled. It could start raining at any moment.
It has rained every day since we got here, except the first one. Sometimes it drizzles; other times, it turns into a full-fledged downpour. It is sheer folly to go out without an umbrella and rain poncho stuffed inside your bag, just in case.
"You should have been here last month -- it was sunny and warm every day!" some well-meaning people will tell us. I'm not sure I believe it, though. Stockholm and rain have become intertwined in my mind, like Björn and Benny or korv med bröd.
Stockholmers love to do things outside during the summer, presumably since they stay cooped up during the short, dark days of winter, so there are loads of outdoor activities going on here now. One of the biggest is the Kulturfestival, an annual event with tons of free concerts, circus acts, plays, and more. Last night had two promising events: a show by the Ale Möller Band, which was going to present top Swedish folk musicians in collaboration with performers from Greece, Senegal, Mexico and Quebec; and a huge troupe of Senegalese master drummers, led by Doudou N'Diaye Rose, who has worked with Peter Gabriel, Miles Davis and many other stars.
It started drizzling lightly when I headed out the door in the early evening, and the plaza was filled with people holding umbrellas. Luckily, during the Möller performance, the rain let up and a large crowd enjoyed the lively show. As soon as they played their encore, though, the rain started to fall in earnest. An emcee assured us that they would be reconfiguring the stage as quickly as possible for Doudou. I figured that we had to stay around for it; I mean, how often does a person get the chance to see 15 Senegalese master drummers? They had come all the way from Western Africa; the least we could do is put up with a bit of rain.
By the time the group took the stage at 9:30, it was pouring. Umbrellas were everywhere, blocking the view of many spectators, who grumbled and tried to push other people's umbrellas out of the way.
It was an amazing spectacle, and I'm sorry that it took place on such an utterly miserable night. We stayed for about 40 minutes of the promised 90-minute performance, because after a while, I was tired of being jostled and I could feel that the bottoms of my jeans and my shoes were getting soaked. The idea of going home and being warm and dry won out over seeing what the drummers would do next.
Tomorrow night, on the same stage, is the Gospel Train, featuring 1500 gospel singers from around the world. At this moment, I hope that all 1500 of them are praying it doesn't rain. |
| posted by 125records @ 3:28 AM |
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| Sunday, August 10, 2008 |
| Stockholm Diary #7: I am a lame blogger |
I know I promised to blog every day, and now I've just skipped three days. Once again, my admiration for the iron men of blogging grows.
I have been busy, though! So very busy! Last night Joe & I went to see the Swedish production of "Hedwig and the Angry Inch." I thought perhaps it was the first time "Hedwig" had been translated into a foreign language, but according to Wikipedia it's been produced in Korea, Japan and Peru. (You can watch the Korean Hedwig sing "Tear Me Down" on YouTube.)
For the non-initiates, "Hedwig" tells the story of young Hans, who grew up on the east side of the Berlin Wall. One day he is spotted by an American G.I. who is attracted to the feminine-looking lad and offers to take him to the U.S. However, before he can leave, Hans needs to pass a medical inspection, which leads to a botched sex change operation. Hedwig and the G.I. eventually divorce, and she becomes the mentor and lover of a teenage boy, the son of an army general. The boy, Tommy, and Hedwig write songs together, and Tommy eventually turns into a huge rock star who forsakes his former lover and takes the songs she wrote as his own. The conceit of the play (which is very different from the movie -- I prefer the stage version) is that Tommy is playing a huge outdoor rock concert while Hedwig is spilling her guts to a much smaller audience indoors; in San Francisco, "Hedwig" played the slightly shabby old Victoria Theater and Tommy's concert was supposed to be taking place at SBC Park. In Stockholm, "Hedwig" is playing the large Stockholm Stadsteater, which kind of changes the meaning of the play. A couple lines of dialogue have been inserted so Hedwig cheekly alleges that she used her sexual wiles on the head of the theater to get the gig.
It wouldn't surprise me if this was one of the biggest "Hedwig"s ever -- the stage is huge, and instead of just Hedwig and her band, the cast is augmented by seven dancers. I was a little dubious about that addition until the song "Sugar Daddy," in which the dancers don gummy bear costumes for an outrageously funny production number.
Really, though, the book and score of "Hedwig" are bulletproof so it all comes down to the man in the wig. Johannes Bah Kuhnke does an excellent job -- I mean, look at this photo of him, he doesn't look the least bit Hedwig-like, yet I thought he perfectly captured the character, and he totally rocks out, too. (The decibel level is appropriately rock concert-loud.) Director/translator Farnaz Arbabi did an excellent job with the script, staying faithful to the story and adding a couple local touches of her own -- there were times when I forgot I was watching Hedwig speak Swedish. Unfortunately, Joe never quite got to that point, but at least the music sounds fab in any language. If you're a diehard "Hedwig" fan like I am, you'd even go see it in Korean. |
| posted by 125records @ 8:39 AM |
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| Wednesday, August 06, 2008 |
| Stockholm Diary #6: TV |
Back in my day, young whippersnapper, we had two channels, and that was good enough for us! They didn't even start broadcasting until 6 PM, so if you turned on the TV earlier than that you only got a test pattern, but that was just fine!
Today, Sweden has a whole bunch of TV channels, but TV 1 & 2 are still out there, still commercial-free -- you pay a TV license fee of about $300 a year for the privilege. The only shows I'm really interested are watching are the Swedish productions, which are a bit hard to come by during the summer; I did catch a rerun of "Lyxfällan" ("The Luxury Trap"), in which a woman who had taken out thousands of dollars in loans to start her own dressmaking business was taken to Manpower by the two tough-love presenters and told to get a real job. And last night was the season's final episode of "Allsång på Skansen," the long-running Swedish analogue to "Sing Along with Mitch Miller." Believe it or not, the program has been on the air (radio, then TV) in one form or another since the 1950s, and is unbelievably popular -- it's watched by something like 20-25% of everyone in the country. People queue up for hours to get a coveted seat, and sing along with lyrics printed in a songbook (for the home viewer, the words are displayed onscreen). Of course, if you're there, you run the risk of having the show's host stick a microphone in your face so all of Sweden can hear you sing.
Last night's finale featured ABBA's Benny Andersson and three of the cast members from the Swedish language version of "Mamma Mia!" The crowd sang along with the title tune and two other ABBA songs from the musical. "The whole world has ABBA fever!" exclaimed the host, obviously referencing the hugely popular movie, but we all know that right here is ground zero of ABBA-mania.
I offered Joe the opportunity to guest blog while we were here, to give the point of view from someone who is dropped into a foreign culture; unfortunately, he spent most of his first week here with a bad cold, and since our Internet access wasn't working and he was too tired to read, he was stuck watching TV. So his first entry is a bit TV-centric.
My impressions of Stockholm so far:
1) Any TV show you've ever forgotten is airing on someone's TV somewhere in the world right now. Since we arrived, I've seen episodes of Til Death, Crossing Jordan, The Unit, The Class, Greek, 2 1/2 Men (which seems to air every 45 minutes on one station or another), and something starring Jennie Garth and Amanda Bynes. That's what happens when you're sick for 4 days.
1a) In Sweden, Married With Children (get well soon, Christina!) is called "Våra värsta år" (Our Worst Years) and Days Of Our Lives is called "Våra bästa år" (Our Best Years).
1b) No matter what it's called, According To Jim is a terrible, terrible show.
1c) No matter how thin and/or tan she gets, Jill Hennessy is still a very attractive woman.
2) There is a significant difference in softness between product lines in the Kleenex family. Given the option, choose the tall box with fewer tissues - hard-won knowledge.
3) Swedes love to eat fish. I mean, really love to eat fish. Half of the supermarket is dedicated to fish in one form or another. So why are there three Taco Bar restaurants on my way to work?
4) Sue must be right about Swedes also loving their coffee, 'cause there's a 7-11 on almost every other block. They're like Starbucks here. Starbucks that sell unsettling-looking cheese-filled hot dogs.
5) Findus may be indirectly responsible for one of the most famous blooper reels in recorded history, but they make a great frozen ham & cheese crepe.
6) The soda here is made with sugar, not corn syrup. Yes, there is a difference.
To recap: Sweden - hostile territory for Denise Richards, homeland for lovers of fish and liquid caffeine delivery systems.
By next week, I should have been up & around for more than 1 day, and thus have more to say. Some of it perhaps even in svensk. Vi ses!
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| posted by 125records @ 2:37 AM |
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| Tuesday, August 05, 2008 |
| Stockholm Diary #5: Drinking in Sweden |
Unless you're a lifelong teetotaler, you've probably experienced at least one of the following situations:
-You're going to a party and stop en route to pick up a cold six-pack of beer to bring along.
-While shopping for dinner supplies, you grab a chilled bottle of Chardonnay from the grocery store's fridge to serve with tonight's meal.
-On a lazy Sunday afternoon, you decide to bake a cake that calls for a quarter cup of Grand Marnier, Kahlua or some other liqueur you don't ordinarily keep around the house.
In most of the U.S., none of those situations seems the least bit unusual. If you live in Sweden, on the other hand, they're all impossible.
In what many people consider another manifestation of the "nanny state," the only way Swedes can buy alcohol for home use is to shop at Systembolaget, the national liquor monopoly. Systembolaget is the only place you can buy anything harder than light beer. And if you want a chilled beverage, hope you've got a few hours and space in your fridge -- all beer and wine is sold at room temperature.
When I was here last (2005), Systembolaget was closed on Saturdays and Sundays. Lately, they've started opening for a few hours on Saturdays. The ban on cold booze is unlikely to change, however. In an interview with the paper Nöjesguiden (sort of a monthly version of the Village Voice or SF Weekly), Systembolaget's media liaison Lennart Agén said they intend to stay "brand-neutral," so it would be inappropriate to chill some bottles and not others. Also, he added, "we don't want to encourage the immediate consumption of alcoholic beverages. If you're going on a picnic and want to consume chilled drinks, you always have a refrigerator at home."
It's no state secret that Systembolaget tries to discourage drinking by making it as expensive and inconvenient as possible -- it's actually in their mandate, which you can read in English on their web site. Has it worked? Well, some people who have seen Swedes in settings where they are suddenly able to enjoy free or cheap liquor -- business class sections on airplanes, "booze cruises" to Denmark or Finland where you can stock up on duty free hooch -- would claim that the forbidden (fermented) fruit tastes the sweetest. Nöjesguiden publishes a helpful chart of beer prices at various Stockholm bars, ranging from 69 kronor ($11.29) for a 40 cl (not quite a pint) pour at the chi-chi Cafe Opera, 58 kronor ($9.50) at trendy nightspot Spy Bar, down to 25 kronor ($4.10) at a couple local happy hours.
Systembolaget has gotten more customer friendly in recent years; I remember that in the past, you couldn't help yourself to bottles and take them up to the cash register, you had to order by number and a clerk would get your selections for you. Nowadays, most shops are self-serve. The store in the Fältöversten mall near our apartment is well-lit and attractively laid out. There are helpful brochures and signs suggesting wine pairings. But when you walk by a closed Systembolaget at 3:30 PM on a Saturday, it's hard to forget that the government would really rather you have a Coke and a smile instead of a gin and tonic. |
| posted by 125records @ 5:35 AM |
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| Sunday, August 03, 2008 |
| Stockholm Diary #3 |
Internet access is supposed to be turned on tomorrow morning. Am looking forward to not having to poach someone's horribly inconsistent wi-fi.
Every time Joe and I have gone overseas (this is trip #4), he has immediately come down with a horrible cold. The worst was in 2001 when we visited England for a week and he spent at least half the time in our rented apartment watching TV and feeling ill. Of course, the minute we set foot on Swedish soil he got a sore throat and a runny nose. I feel like the world's biggest idiot for not packing a couple boxes of NyQuil and DayQuil -- you'd think I'd know better by now. You can't get any decent OTC (receptfritt) cold meds here, probably because everyone can go see a doctor for free thanks to their socialized medicine and get a prescription for something. The only remedies for sale in the pharmacy are nose drops and various natural and homeopathic remedies.
To compensate for the complaining, here are 3 things that are better in Sweden than in the U.S.:
1. Tipping and taxes are included in your purchase price. What a blessing it is to take a cab and pay exactly what it says on the meter without having to do math in your head or worry that the cab driver or waiter thinks you're a cheap bastard. Also, if you buy, say, a book for 100 kronor, that's what you pay at the register -- the sales tax is already factored in.
2. There is only one commercial break during TV shows on cable TV, unlike the 3-4 breaks during the average 30-minute U.S. TV show. (The two channels that existed when I was a kid, TV 1 & 2, are still commercial-free.) Halfway through, you get five minutes of commercials. Time for a bathroom or snack break! Bonus: none of those annoying network "bugs" that pop up to promote upcoming shows.
3. You can buy a transit pass and it covers every form of public transportation -- subway, buses, streetcar, ferry, commuter trains, etc. In San Francisco, you need to pay separately for BART, MUNI, Caltrain, SamTrans or whatever. Wouldn't it be super-convenient to pay $110 (the approximate cost of a monthly adult pass in Stockholm -- retirees pay around $80) and be able to flash it everywhere you go in the Bay Area? |
| posted by 125records @ 12:37 PM |
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| Saturday, August 02, 2008 |
| Stockholm Diary #2 |
I am writing this at a rather chic cafe near our apartment that offers free wi-fi. The only reason I knew about the wi-fi was from this site. There are no mentions of the wi-fi in the cafe itself or on its own web site, and I'm the only person sitting here with a computer. (The tables are at a very un-ergonomic height, so I doubt it'll become a regular work spot for me, though the food is really good so I'll come back for that.) In fact, you can walk past dozens of cafes in Stockholm and not see a single person with a laptop out. Most folks are... I know this sounds crazy... chatting with friends and enjoying themselves. At any given coffee bar with free wi-fi in the Bay Area, I'd be willing to bet that at least 60% of folks are using computers. Plus, there would be a huge sign announcing the wi-fi.
Also: the cafe doesn't open until 11 AM on weekends. I asked my aunt what people do if they want coffee in the early morning, and she said they go to 7-11. Swedes take their coffee very seriously so I have no doubt that you can get a good cup of java at convenience stores.
I walked downtown and watched part of the Pride Parade, which was almost like a mini-version of San Francisco's Pride Parade -- it even kicked off with Dykes on Bikes! The participants seemed to be having a great time, despite the pouring rain, something SF's parade never needs to contend with. I'll post some photos on Monday once I have my own Internet access. |
| posted by 125records @ 5:24 AM |
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| Friday, August 01, 2008 |
| Stockholm Diary #1 |
Sometimes I think summer in Chicago must be one long thunderstorm. It seems like bad weather there is always screwing up air travel for the rest of the country. We were late getting into Chicago because a storm temporarily closed O'Hare and we had to circle over Wisconsin, and then we had to walk over two miles (I am not kidding -- I was wearing a pedometer) to catch our flight to Stockholm. Well, walk and run. We barely made it onboard. How about making it a little easier to get to the international terminal, airport folks? O'Hare has now replaced Atlanta as my least favorite airport. My parents, whom we were supposed to meet at the gate, missed the flight due to problems with their plane from Grand Rapids and will be arriving later today.
But anyway, we are finally here, and moved into our tiny apartment, which reminded me of a new complex that I once saw advertising "Euro-style" units. I guess that's supposed to sound chic, but in my experience, "Euro" anything means "small." Though I've already seen one Hummer on the streets of Stockholm. It takes balls to drive a Hummer when gas costs like $9 a gallon.
Our wifi won't be installed until Monday, so I'm using a random unsecured connection. Hope it holds! I have 70 new messages in my inbox to get through. Now you know why I can never take a vacation.
Thing I'm looking forward to the most so far: a Swedish production of my favorite musical, "Hedwig and the Angry Inch," at Stockholms stadsteater!
It's 4 PM now and I need to stay awake for at least 5 more hours so I can try to get accustomed to the local time. Wish me luck. |
| posted by 125records @ 6:39 AM |
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