My first day in Visby in Gotland, a part of Sweden

Today was an amazing day. I woke up ridiculously early- 5:30 so I could be out of the apartment by 6am and be at T-Centralen by 6:30. I was late because the train was late, but it ended up being all right. We caught a cab, got to the airport, checked in, and by eight we were in the air, and by nine we had landed. A short busride, and we were in Visby.

Visby, I think, has become my favorite city I have ever been to by far. Ridiculously old, it was built by a peaceful version of Vikings. (I might insert more here as I read my guidebook)

But history aside, the town is all wonderful cobbled streets and old houses so that you feel like you’ve stepped back into time. There’s a sea breeze that blows through the streets, so that even when you’re hiking around and are overdressed because you thought you’d be cold, you stay a nice temperature. There’s roses springing out of the most unlikely places, like the cracks between sidewalks and the bases of buildings. Apple trees hang over walls that surround gardens and small little parks are nestled between buildings or in “squares” (because most of them aren’t really square). The roads are meandering and haphazard, apparently similar to the setups of Viking towns in other parts of Europe.

Right now there are hardly any people on the streets, and there’s a peace that is only broken by the passing of cars down streets that should be too small for them to maneuver. It’s a close fit in places, but the natives seem to know what they are doing when driving. Sometimes the cars take you by surprise, expecially when exiting one of the older buildings, because you feel like modern things have no place in the town. But somehow Visby has succeeded (for the most part) with meshing old and new.

We had a tour by a man named Guther (although pronounced in the Swedish fashion so the name sounded much more musical.) It’s interesting… He is a really old man, and remembers when Visby’s main language was German and you took English in the schools. Now, (as he puts it) the Germans lost the war, and we speak Swedish. Visby has a particular multicultural history, in that at the height of its prosperity (that is, it’s Medieval Prosperity) eighteen different nationalities were represented – and they traded with people as far as Mesopotamia.

Guther is our guide for the weekend, and today treated us to a tour inside of the city walls. I have lots of footage (today I discovered my camera had a video feature… guess what I’ve been doing?) and pictures of the churches and houses he took us to- many of which aren’t open to the public during the main season, and you have to know someone to get you into them during the off season. We got to see a lot of places that my Visby Guidebook says are off limits… kind of cool, huh?

Don’t worry, I’ll upload the footage when I figure out how.

The highlights of the trip included our visit to a house that had paintings instead of tapestries on all the walls depicting beautiful scenes of various hunting and biblical passages. We got to go into the inside of one of the towers and went into several ruins of churches… they were both beautiful and haunting, and somehow they were more powerful to me than going into the church that has been maintained that was built around the same time. I felt like the ruins were like skeletons, the flesh melted away but the bare, pale bones and ribs pointed to the heavens like a giant that simply died.

One of the great other things about having Guther as a tour guide was not only his knowledge (ghost stories) and island connections, but also the fierce pride he had for the architecture on the island, and the enduring ability of these structures. He pointed out that the houses and things we build today will hardly be there 500, 1000 years from now. Sometimes things like these make me wonder how much we’ve progressed, and if historians that look back at us will say, yes, they had great technical advances, but this was a time when art and architecture went stagnant. Simply because there’s no buildings that lasted.

Sure, now we might look and be like, yes, this was a time of sickness and war and they lived with relatively little technical advancements, but look at what they were able to achieve with the little they had. I mean, the rune stones we saw today told stories of a boy who decided to go home over the dangerous rapids while his brothers went overland. He died… his pride to prove that he was able to do better than his older brothers the lasting impression we have of him. (ok, so I added the last bit about his pride and having to prove stuff, but really, how much have things changed?)

Another highlight was at lunch we went to a medieval restaurant, ate on bread trenchers, only had a knife, and ate like we would have if we were at a formal meal in medieval times. The food was quite good, and it was a lot of fun, if a bit messy.

I’m thinking of waking up early tomorrow and seeing if I can walk around the edge of the town and follow the wall around Historic Visby, since I don’t think I’ll be able to do it otherwise. I’ll have to resist taking pictures, because I’ve almost used up a while GB in one day. Some of that was filming, but not that much. I have SOOO many pictures. I don’t know which ones I’ll be able to choose to put up here.

So after lunch we finished the tour (a few more churches and some ghost stories) and we had freetime until dinner. I took the opportunity to go to a Nordia bank and cash my check. Then I went to the one still functioning church from the mideval times, and after that I went through some charming tourist stores, culminating in me going to a handicraft store and caving. I got myself a hat trimmed in lamb’s wool, and also a pair of slippers. I badly wanted a pair of gloves also, but I had to resist. There might be other things I want to buy the rest of my stay here.

I did also get an obscene amount of postcards to add to my incipient collection, and also some tour books that have info that I think is interesting. I thought one of them might also make a good gift.

Dinner was in a monk’s tavern, and now I’m going to work on my English Essay (due Monday, along with a bunch of reading) that I’ve been procrastinating doing by writing this entry. Hey, this journal and my cultural experiences is just as important!

*wink*

I have to leave for gotland in five minutes

But I wanted to leave you something happy before I disappear for the weekend.

Do you feel like working today?
no

Tomorrow?
no

The day after?
no

Next week?

no
Next Month?



no
Me neither!
I just want to party!


You...

....have a GREAT Day!!!

*snickers* I got it from dad.

A Doozy of a Day

The funny thing about today was, I was looking forward to today so much, and it was just the culmination of a rough week.

I'd had a rough week of classes and just feeling off and rather lonely... not surprising considering I've only been here just under a month, and everyone speaks a different language. Last night I was supposed to work at the pub, but after classes that went from 8-6pm, I was tired, feeling antisocial and just not fit for human consumption. In a totally irresponsible act, I told them I didn't feel well and went home. There, I found nobody home (both a mixed blessing) and my host mother (in her typical fashion) had made a vegitarian-friendly dinner. Now, I've been good for the past few weeks. My family is happily carnivorous, and while we do eat vegetables, our meals tend to be fairly... simple. Some might even say boring. And my host family... well, they like to sample from every culture under the sun. The result is I've been exposed to a lot of new foods in the past few weeks... all unfamiliar, and while some of them were good, some of them I just can't decide if I like or not. But I've been flexible. I've tried things.

But last night I came home to a pot filled with... something. I wasn't quite sure what it was. It was virulent looking- a shade of red somewhere between vermilion and cranberry that was just asking to be spilled on my white shirt. It almost looked like... watered down blood in vibrancy of color with an undertone of pink instead of brown. And (to me) it was of a similar consistency- pureed into a soupy, thick mixture.

And I was good. I tried it. And while it wasn't bad, I sat there eating it, and suddenly, all I wanted was simple, easy chicken with corn and mashed potatoes. I ended up bawling, spilling on myself (I KNEW IT- luckily I changed my shirt), and crying even harder. I made myself boiled eggs, and indulged myself by not only eating the whites, but the yolk too. And then I ate some cashews and cried some more.

When my home stay mother came back later, I was recovered, and she insisted I try the soup again... this time with lemon and sour cream in it. Apparently it's made out of beets or radishes... I never could figure out which one, but I ended up liking it even less, on a totally emotional level.

So today I was looking forward to just a chill day where I could wash my clothes, do some work, and rest my mind. And I got on the scale this morning.

Now, I should also mention this. I've been avoiding my scale because it is low on batteries, and because my eating has been, quite frankly, out of control. I've all my life eaten to cope, especially with social problems. It probably goes back to all the moving I did as a child, and each time I found myself struggling to make friends, and being quite miserable, I ate to feel better. Now, for the last year I've been on Weight Watchers, and I've lost around 50 lbs (it's less now because I've been gaining, but that was at my best point). I'm coming to terms with the fact that for me, eating is an addiction, an unhealthy way I cope with being unhappy.

Well, anyway, I got on the scale this morning to find that I've gained eight pounds in the last four weeks. I've sensed and known that I've been gaining, but not this much. Needless to say, this depressed me quite a bit.

So that put a shadow on my day.

And I was still feeling low from last night.

So I worked up my resolve throughout the day, and decided that when I went out to cash my food subsidy check, I would also make another attempt to find Weight Watchers (called here ViktVaktarna). I very deliberately got directions, and set out.

Well, I got lost when trying to find the Bank, and ended up at their OFFICES, instead of a real bank. The lady at the offices was nice enough to tell me how to get to the bank, but by the time I got there, they had closed. I was four minutes too late. So now I don't have my food subsidy money. That whole process took an hour and a half. I thought it was only good to take 30 minutes, tops.

So I was now late going to ViktVaktarna. I had built in 30 minutes to find the place before they opened 30 minutes before the meeting started, because the place looked on the map a little difficult to find. Plus, not being able to read Swedish, I had difficulty with signs. Now I was racing to just get there for the meeting.

Guess what? Turns out there is a Kungstagatan and a Kungsgatan... and they are on opposite sides of the city. When I had went to get directions, I had went for the wrong street. TWO HOURS LATER, I give up, sit in a park, totally utterly lost, and try to call my mother to see if she can find where I am with Google maps, and help me get to Weight Watchers. No luck. I give up. Now I try to call my dad so I can have some help just calming down. No luck there either.

An old lady with a dog as big as she is comes over and tries to ask what is wrong (I think) but she doesn't speak any English, and I can only understand one word she's saying: du (you). She pats me on the back and eventually leaves. And then i go buy a Snickers bar and one of those really yummy rolls that you can buy at 7-eleven's in Sweden.

When old ladies in parks come to ask you if you're all right, you know you're at the lowest of low. Finally, I felt I'd gotten enough control of myself enough that I could ride the subway without getting undue attention. (Turns out I was wrong, I kept on getting strange looks from the silent people all dressed in dark clothes that looked at the crazy American who was rude enough to show undue emotion on the Subway of all places!)

Well, I took a look on the map to the subway and realized that the process of my getting lost had taken me about FIVE SUBWAY STOPS from where I started out. Trust me, it means I had walked a really far way.

And you know what, I leave the station, and the next one I pull into... Kungstagatan. Right there. After I'd spent two hours looking for it, and another thirty minutes bawling because I couldn't find it.

I got out, went to weight watchers, and went through the great experience of having a bunch of Swedish women look at me as if I was a novelty. AN AMERICAN? Who did Weight Watchers in the states? Let me see.

And I couldn't even stay for the meeting because I had to go to choir. And turns out they use a different system that I don't now how to use because I can't read the materials and I couldn't stay for the meeting. I dash to choir, (get lost again) find the place, and NOBODY's there.

I go back to the apartment. My host family mother tells me they're probably starting later because the director can't be there tonight. I GO BACK... and only the two guys are there. They're really nice, and try to include me, and I try to sing along, but I've only sang mostly classical, and mostly off of sheet music, and these guys are just picking tunes of of a song their listening to. Well, they try to include me, and I try to participate, and I end up having fun despite feeling like an ass because I don't know what I'm singing.

Right now, things are looking pretty down. I'm leaving for Gotland in the morning, and I have to be at the meeting space for 6:30... which means I need to be up obscenely early. I'm all packed (for the most part) and I'm hoping this all works out. I want to have fun, and I want to turn things around. I know part of the reason I'm feeling low is because I'm about to have my period, and another reason is because of my eating, and also just plain culture shock (which they warned us about but I didn't believe in).

So I'm heading to bed, and I'm hoping I'll have a better outlook in the morning.

That's all for now.

I got a package from my boyfriend... and I opened it on the subway... that was a mistake

So this morning before classes I got up a bit earlier to pick up my package from the mail distrabution center. It means I had to carry it around all day, but the other consequence was waiting until tomorrow to pick it up because today it would close before I could go. So I got it just before I got on the subway to go to school.

Picture this: Me, on the subway. Everyone acting acording to the Swedish unwritten code "tho shalt not talk on the subway unless you're with friends, and tho shalt not speak loudly enough to attract undue attention". An old lady had already shushed the man beside her because he was speaking on his phone too loud and that was 'very rude.' (or at least, that is what I think she said. I got the very but it might have been very loud or very _fill in blank_) And then I FINALLY get all the tape off using an old fashioned key (not the new types because the key to the appartment has one of those old fashioned keys that don't really have sharp points to them) and a ballpoint pen and my crocheting hook. I pull back the cardboard.

A sudden squeal.

The old lady looks over, and I can feel her stare pressing into my back. That... forigner is making noise. (yes me) and getting quite excited about... *the old landy cranes her head to look* a doodle bear and butterfly stickers. And strange american candy in much too bright colors. (Swedish candy is much more subtle, less bright colors. You can tell what brands are imported and which ones are made in Sweden. Look at Tolberone for example... again, it all goes back to the belief that all Swedish people have that nobody is better than anyone else, and assuming your better than anyone else is rude and arrogant. It translates into Swedes believing that drawing attention to yourself is very rude. In contrast to the belief in American where we go, "how dare you think that I'm not as good as you!" We think that you should put yourself forward, make your own way, be an individual.)

But back to the old lady. She glares at me.

*snickers*

Needless to say, I was quite delighted by the package. Went around with a dopey expression on my face all day. As one of the girls on my program said when I told her the box was from my boyfriend and I showed her what was in it... "Somebody loves you a lot" I could only nodd and grin. I have to think of something cool now to send my boyfriend.

I haven't listened to the mix he sent me yet, but I now know what my breakfast is going to be tomorrow morning (grits that were in the package), and each morning for the following days. Or perhaps I'll save it for special occasions. YEY GRITS! And I don't know where he got the stickers, but each time I see them I'm convinced someone knows me very well, but not only that, but is very very very thoughtful. I feel very loved.

Well, I have a lot of reading I need to get done, payment for my work on my story last night. *Must get to it*



PS: But the best thing about the package? After I told my boyfriend about the Italian guy flirting with me on the subway, he sends me a list of all the different languages he can think of, each one saying "I have a boyfriend" Or "I'm taken." It made me giggle each time I looked at it.

The promised pictures of the Cruise to Finland

I've been remiss in my blogging

So I'm trying to remedy that now. I'm also procrastinating... but then, I think that's the only time I blog.

So what has been happening lately? My host family is amazing. The oldest of the two boys has been including me in a lot of stuff, whenever his friends come over. I've joined a choir, the Monkey Club (which includes my first expierence with bartending), actually worked on my proposal and have gotten into the swing of things.

I've gotten propositioned by an Itallian guy on the Subway who called me 'bella' and was quite charming. He kissed my hand.

Last sunday I went to a folk dance and a guy picked me up (I was rather clueless until the end). I felt bad telling him he could call me as a friend, but I had a boyfriend. I actually haven't told SG about the pickup expierence after what happened when I told him about the Itallian guy (SG compiled a list of every language he could speak of, and sent it to me. The topic of the list? How to say 'I have a boyfriend/I'm taken' in as many langages as he could translate. Cute, but he also told me he felt rather helpless when he was halfway around the world).

I've learned and held my first rudimentary conversations in Swedish, and on Sunday (it was a busy weekend) I went to my homestay father's parents' house and held a pretty good conversation with the mother, who speaks about as much english as I do Swedish. I'm pushing myself hard, even though it's really really tedious and really really HARD.

I also on Saturday went to a muscial- a swedish modern intrpretation of the Jungle Book. Facinating, and I didn't understand much of what was being said, but there was lots of visual and music jokes that I got, and the music was cool.

I had some low points last week where I was really struggling and feeling like I was isolated. It helped though on Thursday I went on a day cruise with the Monkey Club. It was a fun trip and I enjoyed the time I spent with the group. There were a few rough moments for me- people were drinking, though not to excess, and I felt really guilty because in the States I wouldn't be allowed to drink. I'm still not sure how I feel about it, but I've come to realize that drinking is not as big of thing as it is made to be in the States.

Each day I'm learning more about the culture... through politics, and the otherall way Swedes think. I want to note here that any genrelzations I make here are just that... I'm genralizing, and as such I might not be correct at times. Still, I think some of my observations are valid.

I'm still planning to get some photos up here, but my internet access is limited, and I have lots and lots of reading to do. Most people go aborad for a break in academics... not happening for me.

So that's the crash course on what's happening, I'll try and get up more later like my yarn adventures and some cultural observations.

The Finland Cruise

So I was a little concerned going into the cruise because:

1.) I didn't really know these people and I was going to spend the next 12 hours hanging out with them on a boat.

2.) I had heard the cruises described as "Booze Cruises," because the ships are Duty Free Zones, so the Swedes take the time to buy alcohol that isn't taxed up the wazoo. They also bring a lot of that alcohol back with them.

3.) This was taking a bit of a risk for me and I often over think these types of things. I was also missing out on choir to go on this, and I hadn't been entirely honest about the fact that I was missing choir to go on a cruise. They didn't have any problem, and I didn't like, I just moved the truth around a little.

It ended up being a lot of fun. The group of people were very accepting of the fact that I didn't like fizzy drinks, and thus didn't really like drinking beer like most of them were doing. They didn't drink to get drunk... they got a little tipsy but that is an improvement from what I've been exposed to at college.

I actually struggled with my morals a lot on this trip. I don't drink in the US- other than having a sip or there to try something. It's illegal, and I don't like how drink lowers your IQ and impairs your thought process. My brain is one of my favorite attributes. So I wasn't quite sure how to conduct myself on the cruise. Part of me wanted to have and drink alcohol, because I was curious. Also, because at school I'm known for not drinking, but here nobody had a previous opinion of me.

Well, my curiosity got the better of me, and I ended up having two Strawberry Daiquiri's, which to my senses did nothing, but they were the only alcohol I drank on the whole trip. I also bought some Bailey's Irish Cream (because I love that stuff) and some cognac, which I've been wanting to try. I haven't yet, I figure I'll save it.

Then came the doozy. The group did buy beer- in bulk for all the parties they might have in the future. They might also sell it at a minor profit.

But all in all the trip was nice. While we were hanging out during various parts of the trip I attempted to learn Swedish songs, and they sang a bunch of English songs like "Wild Rover" which I love and enjoy. One of the guys brought his miniature guitar, (which has a name starting with a U that I can't remember or spell) and played accompaniment to different stuff. I shared with them my rendition of "Biddy McGraw." They thought it was quite amusing.

Later, I mentioned I had brought my flashcards with me, and one of the guys insisted on helping me with them, by also telling me cultural impressions of the words, and also telling me if there was any way to make the word dirty. *snickers* It was a lot of fun.

Lastly, I got some great pictures that I'll share with you, but in the next post, because I don't want them to squish this post.