Riding the Waves of Life

Manly Beach, 2009

I know we all go through changes in life. And no, not talking about menopause, not changes that way. I am not that old yet. I mean life takes us on various adventures and rides and with all those experiences we change. And thank goodness for that. I mean, I am sure I had a great little personality as a five year old, but I sure hope I have more things to add to the world now as an adult. Or as I have many other times said, a vagabond playing the role of a responsible adult.

I will just come out right here and say that actually I don’t like changes, I don’t like them one bit. I like to know what will happen and plan for things. That said, and here comes the kicker, my last 12-14 years on this earth have been nothing but a series of changes. Why I, a person with perfectionist tendencies, have decided to live my life in constant turmoil for so long beats me. Maybe it’s the thrill of walking just close enough to the edge to see how far I can push myself. To step outside the comfort zone to be able to grow.

Of course a person will go through changes and can learn to dance with them while staying put in one place too. But I truly believe my traveling ways have helped me become very adaptable. With traveling you practice the “muscle” of being okay with unexpected events. Getting stuck at an airport because you flight got canceled, no biggie. Finding ways to sleep on airport chairs by sitting upright for 8 hours, yeah been there done that. And speaking of sleep, being flexible enough to find comfort in numerous hotel room beds regardless of its softness or firmness…yeah no problem. Now, I think sleeping at various hotels should not grant you a medal in adaptability however roughing it at various hostels at some point in your life will. You have earned your stripes when you have managed to fall asleep in a sunken down bunk bed, with sheets that manage to be both sheer from numerous washings and yet still carry mysterious stains. To top it off you will have a stranger sleeping half a meter above you, snoring. Then, yes then you have made it. Side note, always bring your own pillowcase.

For me, and many others will agree with me, traveling has a lot to do with food. And different cultures eat different cuisine of course. Eating noodles for breakfast in China? Sure! Meat on a stick in Thailand? Yes! Cookies with yerba mate in Argentina? Yes please. In a Swedish cult movie called “Sällskapsresan” (a group of Swedes spending Christmas on the Canary Islands at a popular tourist destination) a lady asks the guide on board the bus from the airport: "Is there Swedish coffee at the hotel?” If there was, I would never touch it. Only exception was when my roommate Catharina and I went to IKEA to eat Swedish meatballs, but that’s different. We had then lived in Sydney, Australia for the majority of a year and were homesick.

In order to be a successful traveler and well, a human in general, its important to be able to roll with the punches. I certainly don’t succeed at this all the time, not even close. But I am getting better and better at it. I have also embraced some changes in my life and I look back at those experiences for inspiration. For example, before moving to Sydney, I was set on having my own room in the suburbs of the great city. I knew living expenses in Sydney were extremely high so I tried to factor in everything before I left. I rented a room in a part called Kensington for a while, but due to some unfortunate events I decided to leave that accommodation, but where to? Staying in the outskirts and trying to find a place to live in Randwick, Kingsford or Bondi Junction? I did a 180 degree change and rented not a room, but part of a room in the bustling CBD, Central Business District, in central Sydney. Only part of a room as that rent was already the most expensive rent check I ever had to cough up in my life! But there I was, living in China Town, only steps away from Darling Harbour, the entertainment district of the city. It was due to this very impulsive move that I one day walked down Sussex Street, the street my new place of living was located on, and into a hotel called Four Points by Sheraton. Fairly sick of applying for jobs online I apparently (as told to me later) approached the concierge and with a blend of charm and sass asked “Isn’t there anybody I can talk to face to face about any job openings?” The concierge took a liking to the Swedish traveler in front of him and brought me to the mezzanine level of the hotel, the heart of the house. He escorted me to the Human Resources Department and gave me a chance to speak to the person in charge of hiring. And that’s how I ended up working for Four Points and was included in the hotel family. Sure I would perhaps had a different story, and a good story too, if I had not made the move into the city center. But because of my move there I made several good friends, both other hotel employees as well as roommates, people I still keep in touch with to this day.

Switching gear for a moment, another part of my life which has definitely benefited from me being okay with changing my ways is the area of working out. It all started back when I was working as a nanny in St. Louis, USA and befriended some instructors at the local YMCA. Some of them were new to personal training and used me as their guinea pig. With my permission of course! We started to experiment with different workout routines to see how much we could alter my body. We were very successful and my body fat percentage dropped to incredibly low levels. I returned to Sweden heavier than ever. Now, many people going to the US fall in love with the abundance of fast food there and return home with some unwanted love handles. But my weight was pure muscle mass. I was a female beefcake. Now I am totally bragging, but I had an impressive six-pack back then. Fast forward a few years and yet again I was working out like a wildebeest. Hard, hardcore training where my knuckles bled on a regular basis and where 2,5 hour long sessions were part of my every day. I took pride in having a very high tolerance to physical pain. What is very weird is that throughout all this time I was also practicing yoga. And I saw great benefits with this gentler kind of workout. Nowadays I have done a 180 degree turn on this subject too. I do enjoy working up a sweat on a regular basis, but to bleed, and throw up during workouts is not my forte anymore. I practice yoga regularly now, almost every day, and I feel stronger and stronger.  And this leads into my next section of changes, namely my diet…

I used to eat a diet consisting of a very high degree of animal protein as I was building muscle mass. I used to do the rookie mistake of also cutting out fats. Now I embrace a plant based diet with lots of good fats. Nuts, seeds, humus, avocado, olive oil, coconut oil…and I have not become fatter. Not at all. I still enjoy red meat, but on a more selective basis.

So after all this rambling about changes, what are the nuts and bolt of this post? It is to try to dance with your destiny. I am not at all the expert on this, but I guess I need to give myself some credit for recognizing when things just ain't working. Although sometimes that recognition has taken years to materialize. As life changes you have to go with the flow. If I can do it, or at least try to do it, I am sure anyone can. Some of my best memories of traveling have come in moments of complete confusion and chaos. Okay maybe not complete chaos, but unplanned events. As I live my life one chapter at a time, one adventure at a time, I look back at a very discombobulated book. Places, professions, homes, experiences…quite the ride. Did I expect myself living in Malmö and working for Turning Torso in 2015? Would never have planned it. But I am definitely enjoying this new part of my life…and I am trying to roll with the punches. And perhaps this blog post is nothing but a reminder to myself that I can, and I have, adapted to some interesting situations in the past. I have also found the strength to change things around when they just stopped working for me. So whatever lies before me, let’s just say, surfs up, time to hang ten. If the wave ends or you are no longer enjoying the ride, turn around and paddle out again. And speaking of changes, some changes are unwelcomed: I used to enjoy surfing but then I got a fear of sharks. Three shark attacks fairly close to Sydney the first two weeks I lived there will do that to you I guess. I hope this fear of sharks will once again change and I will truly be able to hang ten again, in the ocean as well as on dry land.

The Swedish Apartment

So in the beginning of August I moved. And yes the name of this post, “the Swedish Apartment” is a total reference to the movie from 2002 called “the Spanish Apartment” where individuals from multiple countries found themselves living together. So far I am the only tenant, hoping to have many visitors though. But I guess in order to be able to have friends visiting my apartment I should get organized first.

As I wrote in my last blog post it was hard to find an apartment in Malmö. My aim was to find one close to my sister’s at Möllevångstorget, a happening spot in the city, and I was successful. It’s a three minute walk from her apartment to mine. My apartment is on the same street as of my Parisian bar. Parisian bar you say? About 6 months prior to me leaving the US I was home in Sweden for a visit and went down to Malmö to see my sister (or fly somewhere from Copenhagen’s airport, who knows). Anyway, this is when I saw a bar at Möllevångstorget which had a Parisian feel to it. I have yet to venture inside or to even have a drink there, but I love how it looks like from the outside. For Malmö people, it's “Metro” I am referring to. So that I now live on the same street I will take as a sign that I am supposed to live here. And I have always (and I say that as if I have lived in Malmö forever) liked the buildings on this street.

There is also another sign that points to the fact that I should be living here. There is an Argentinian restaurant I kind of live on top of. Well in the same building at least. I was in Argentina this past fall to visit my lovelies Laura, Tizi and their wonderful families. So yet another sign?? I think so!

The move was fairly easy as far as the big stuff goes. An hour of actual moving the furniture into my apartment from the trailer my parents drove from my hometown of Laholm where basically all the big stuff came from. The furniture magically fitted nicely. And I mean they fitted in size and in design. When all the little stuff, all the necessities and other items, came I had a minor meltdown. I wanted to chuck half of it out. My vagabond heart was pounding hard and not with excitement, but that of a feeling of an anchor being tide to my feet. I hate stuff. I truly do. I enjoy the comforts life can bring, but I can’t breathe properly when there is a lot of stuff around me. Proud of this? No, but I am being honest. I like to own few things, but of good quality. I tried to feel grateful that I can live in such a nice apartment with good furniture after basically not owning anything in life for so long. But this situation is new to me and having a lot of stuff physically close to me makes me feel very anxious. Wow, this blog post got so serious…Anyway…

So after you move you obviously want electricity etc. in your name. Now a big mystery presented itself to me, basically being an expat, what are the places to change address at?! Some will change automatically due to you telling one place (an official record place) you moved and this authority changes most of the places which requires having your current address on file. But some you have to contact yourself. Which ones?!? Differs from the US. Luckily the place I moved from is my sister's so I am fairly certain she won’t be holding on to any old bills or fan letters I receive on a regular basis.

Speaking of my sister, we had to divide our joint assets after living together for like a year. Well it was more like my sister graciously letting me store some stuff at her place for 6 months while I traveled all over the world and then I moved in for reals. When it came time to dividing the stuff  the process was rather effortless. Our biggest chuckle came when dividing up the spices after culinary preference. I like things spicy so this resulted in me getting like 90 percent of the spice rack. Winning.

So I got my keys. They were so many of them, but they were labeled nicely so no worries. Or so I thought. I have what’s called a security door with metal built in and I like it that way. I got two different keys for the security door but wait, I only have one keyhole?! I am so safe I don’t even know what to do with all the keys.

When first entering the apartment, when we worked on getting the electricity up and running, I located the fuse box. 6 months ago I would not have known what to do with those, but luckily I now know how those work as I learned that at my current job. I mean, every time I change a fuse I totally feel like Superman and feel I should earn a medal for doing it. But still, I can do it now and that rocks, right?

I have a storage unit in the attic large enough for someone to live in. At first glance it seemed as maybe someone was already doing so in my neighbor’s unit. But on second thought, the person probably just have a lot of stuff. See, again I am allergic to “stuff.”

In true Swedish fashion it was much easier to find where the recycle bins were located than where the regular garbage was to be disposed of. And we have way, way, way more bins for the recycled material than regular waste. Me like.

And also in true Swedish fashion there is a common laundry room. Most units (if you rent an apartment) don’t have a washer and dryer inside the individual homes, but you share such facilities in the basement. This is fairly new to me although I have rented houses in the US which were lacking those appliances and I had to use the local laundromats. And my experiences of those are, let’s just say, of a mixed bag. I am not a fan of this common thing, but I guess it’s not too bad. In order to use the room you have to sign up on a board so I need to remember to plan for laundry. This may be hard as I workout a lot and have tons of sweaty clothes laying around on any given day. Will I just become the stinky kid in the room? God I hope not. The backup plan is that my sister has a washer and dryer at home and as stated earlier, I live a three minutes’ walk from her.

When a person moves out on their own in Sweden for the first time he or she must go to the Holy Land, also known as IKEA. At the time of publishing this post I have made two trips there already. First trip to get the essentials such as black out curtains as I sometime sleep during the day after a night shift. And a thing to hold dishes while they dry. So many adult stuff. I threw in some scented candles to feel more at home with my shopping basket. The second trip consisted of me actually investing in some bookshelves for the long and broad hallway I have. I had to think it over as it was an investment of buying “stuff.” See how this obsession or lack of obsession of stuff is a common thread in this post?

However, I have started to enjoy looking at stuff for my apartment. I want it to look nice. I want it to be a haven for myself and my guests. So some stuff I will have to invest in. The notion of being okay at looking at house ware came much sooner than I thought. But as I am a foodie who wants to improve her game in the kitchen, I am mostly okay with looking at kitchen stuff.

And how does a vagabond decorate? I would say slowly, with heart and with some knick knacks picked up on the road. Not actual stuff from the road! (I had a roommate once that picked up garbage and brought home, but that is not what I speak about here). I want to use my own photos from my travels as art on the walls. The international flare will have to be present in every corner of the apartment. Food from all over such as tea from Thailand and China and yerba mate from Argentina will line my kitchen counters. I kind of wished I had bought more souvenirs over the years from my many travels, but I have to accept I haven’t because I am a minimalist. See, it’s a struggle, well a luxury problem really, to want to have items to remind myself of the many amazing experiences I have been fortunate to take part in. But on the flip side I feel anxious when too many things are present. It’s quite a contradiction and I have an ongoing internal struggle regarding this. 

So there. I have moved in and will now focus on getting settled for reals. As an ending to this post I can inform you all that sadly I can’t walk around naked although I now live on my own. Too many large windows. Failure. Pretty sure I have already flashed all my neighbors on both the street side and the courtyard side. Oh well, life goes on in the Swedish Apartment. And seriously, as many comments I have gotten over the years saying “oh we know about those Swedes” I am sure my comment about nakedness did not surprise anyone. ;)

Setting Up Camp

This blog post is a manual (not really, it’s more of an attempt to a comical account) of how a person gets settled into an apartment in Sweden. This is something most 18 year olds do…I am 10 years and then some late to the party, but that’s okay, I have attended many other parties around the world.

Finding an apartment to rent was hard as many people want to live in Malmö. I learned the hard way that you can’t just look for an apartment and rent it; you have to look at ads (with no pictures attached to them I may add), apply, get invited to see the place along with many, many other hopefuls, you say yes or no to the place and if you are a lucky, lucky duck you are chosen as the renter…yes, chosen…yikes. Having rented numerous apartments and homes in the US and Australia this is very new to me. I am glad I have a family that helped explain the ins and outs of this very (to me) mysterious process. Usually one has to sign up for waiting lists, if you are going the public company route and not renting privately, or start saving money with a company managing apartment complexes. It’s a jungle for someone like me, a clueless vagabonding Viking Princess…who knew everyone and their dog was looking for a small apartment in the heart of Malmö?! I always knew finding a reasonably priced apartment in the capitals of the world was tough, but Malmö is an up and coming city with many young professionals and man the competition was fierce here too. However, I was apparently fierce as well. I was chosen as the rightful renter of a beautiful, newly renovated, but small, apartment in the heart of the city I have chosen to live in.

So I signed a lease. It had many stuff on it that was unknown to me. I had to pick a renters insurance. Now, I have had such insurance in the States, but in Sweden I had no clue what a good one was. Leaned on mommy and daddy to pick a good one. Or just a decent one. Or actually just one. I am a minimalist and the amount of stuff I own has a very small monetary value. But yeah, renters insurance seemed like the grownup thing to do. However, I shocked my parents and myself by taking yet another step into adulthood by opting to go for a slightly more expensive renters insurance which included insurance while traveling. Let’s face it, this vagabond is not going to just sit in her beautiful, newly renovated, but small, apartment in Malmö and be fine with just that. I will use it as a base, but still wander the earth during my vacation days and lord knows I may need that insurance.

Next item on my lease was my landlord letting me know which cable company was being used in my apartment complex. First thing, I don’t watch much TV so being told I had to pay kind of sucked. I got over that quite quickly and was happy go lucky when I remembered that I have an old TV from my youth stored at my parents house. I figured I could use it until I would see the point in buying a new one. My dad crushed my plans when he gently told me my old fat TV would probably not work with the new technology. Whaaat?!? Procedures surrounding getting access to TV channels have changed a few times in Sweden since I left and some people have to use a TV “box” etc. I am probably going to say “the heck with it,” I watch TV online anyway.

When it comes to furniture etc. I am very lucky. I have some good stuff saved from my past and my mom and dad have over the years kept quite a few things with the hope of my return. I think it’s been rather hard on them not being able to assist me when I had to find furniture and the likes for my apartments and houses abroad. I have had more homes over the past years than some people have in a lifetime and the only stuff my mom and dad have been able to give me is like small amounts of silverware, coffee cups and a few blankets. They could never give me much of their old kitchenware because it would make no sense to drag it all over the world. And furniture, yeah you get the point. The person who has assisted me the most in that department has been my American host dad…thanks Jim! Now my mom and dad get the pleasure to assist their youngest little girl setting up camp. I think it’s beneficial for all of us. We spent a whole weekend going through chairs, coffee tables etc. stored at their garden shed in order to decide what I wanted to keep and what would be donated to the local Red Cross chapter. I have some nice wine glasses saved from various birthdays etc. and my parents were able to give me some of their old china. Still need some stuff, but at least I don’t have to start from scratch. Other items are coming from friends and family members.

One could also say I have “gone shopping” at my parents’ house and at my sister’s apartment. While living abroad, I have always asked “Can I borrow this?” but it was usually like a sweater from my mom. She always got it back…maybe 8 months later when I returned to Sweden for a visit.  I am now scanning their compounds like a vulture. Just to see if there are any stuff they don’t use. I am counting on that they have enough of a thick skin to say no if I try to claim something they really use. It’s not my fault I am very manipul…persuasive.

When it comes to stuff I am a minimalist so my general idea is to pick out some nice furniture, necessities etc., but keep it to a minimal until I know what I like. Because how do I want to decorate a home?!? Never really done that. I have said, and everyone who knows me has agreed, that my home will probably have a lot of character to it and be a bit “ugly.” Yeah I said it. I will not go too mainstream and the result will hopefully be an earty-toned haven. But who knows?! Maybe deep down inside me there is a girl wanting to decorate with tassels, frills and small, fragile figurines everywhere? I mean, I highly doubt it, but who knows?!

I obviously had food at my sister’s apartment (where I have been staying for the past year) but since I now have a whole kitchen to myself I am going to build up a real pantry with maple syrup, Himalayan salt, plastic bags and Tupperware. And other things! What would I do with just those four items?! I feel like such an adult now. Or a vagabonding backpacker playing the role of a responsible adult.

This post would be lacking terribly in the Swedish department if I would not mention IKEA. Going to IKEA is a rite of passage for any Swede moving out to live on their own. I have been to IKEAS all over the world more times I could possibly count and always liked it. But now, when I will have a home of my own, it’s different. My plan is to move in and start making a list of things I lack and then go to the Holy Land. I am sure I will be making more than one trip there over the next few months. Stay tuned.

So there, a small town girl from Laholm, who roamed the globe for 12 years, has landed and will now create her own space in the world in the big city of Malmö. I am excited and nervous. Excited to have my very own apartment for the first time in my whole life. I can decorate how I would like. If I buy food it will still be there when I come home. I can walk around naked…and I will stop there. I have lived in 12 different homes in my life, have had 24 different roommates from 12 different countries, but never been alone. I have never lived alone. How will I feel about this? Well, we will find out wont we? Here’s to the next chapter of my life! Life in the Swedish Apartment! Do come visit :)

Am I Swedish?

“Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.“ - Terry Pratchett.

I have now been back in Sweden (well on and off) since June of last year. So basically I have been here for one year. In some ways, I am Swedish. And in other ways, totally not. The following is an account of how well I have/have not acclimatized to Swedish society. And honestly, how well I have embraced the ways of my homecountry.

Signs that I am the rightful carrier of a Swedish passport:

I picked the correct winner of the Swedish edition of the Eurovision Song Contest. The contest, which has been described as a place for “tacky outfits, kitschy lyrics and questionable talent,” is huge in Sweden. For you non-Europeans, it’s basically a music contest where European nations pick their candidate - and this is made via several telecasted shows and voting etc - and send them to the big show, this year held in Vienna, Austria. Azerbaijan is among the contestants (it’s in Europe?!) and this year we even let Australia compete. I have never been a fan of the contest, but this year, good darn it, I went all in. Sweden competed with a rather good song, good scene show and one hot, charming Swedish boy, the candidate I picked from many other Swedish ones. I thought Sweden would have a decent chance of winning the whole thing, and we did! The Swedish contestant won the whole Eurovision Song Contest! Maybe I am a lucky charm – last time I saw the big finale, in 2012, Sweden also won first place. I am a humble person…yes.

In other news, my American Iphone is now unlocked and completely functioning on the European cell phone grid.

I have opened my orange envelope from the Swedish government containing my retirement fund myself for the very first time in my life. My dad has always done it for me: called me up wherever I happened to be in the world and gave me the grim news. As I have never really worked in Sweden and I have earned the vast majority of my money abroad, let’s just say I can’t retire this year and live comfortably. Or live at all. But give me a few years and it will all be fine and dandy. I am not retiring anytime soon. Except if I marry rich, of course, that goes without saying.

I have started speaking with a Swedish Southern accent from time to time. People with such accent sound friendly so I am not totally against it. Ever since I was a small child I have been fascinated with accents. Every year we went skiing at a place called Orsa in the “state” Dalarna, which is located in the middle of Sweden, and for one week, the accent spoken there was what came out of my mouth. So now I speak "skånska", the Southern accent, every now and then. However, I was taken aback the other day at work when someone complimented me for speaking such great Swedish for being an American...

I ride the bus to and from work and also for doing errands. I have even figured out rather easily which bus to take using the app “Skånetrafiken!” I walk to coffee shops and restaurants. I take the train to visit my parents and grandfather. I have no plans to get a car anytime soon. Well, if anyone wants to give me a Mini Cooper I would not say no, just for clarification. Or an Agera R from Koenigsegg for that matter. However, the public transport system is rather good in Sweden and people of all ages and walks of life use it.

I have applied for, and received, an ICA card (bonus card for a grocery store). This is a rite of passage into adulthood in Sweden. I am about 10 years (at least!) behind my peers on this one. 

At the moment I am writing this post I have invested in two blenders and one food processor. Two blenders because I totally broke the first one by overusing it and had to invest in a bigger one to accommodate my blending needs. This is HUGE for me as I have never really invested in good kitchen ware. I have been super fortune to have had kitchen stuff given to me over the years or found cheap ones at Wal-Mart or Target (oh no, involuntarily product placement!). But as I have always seen my many homes as temporary (some places I lived in for 3 months, some for 4 years) I have never allowed myself to buy nice stuff. My thought is now that if I would move around Europe I can most likely take these appliances with me. I have become an expert on electric voltage and plugs and ways to circumvent difficulties with those over the years. And I love to play in the kitchen for the moment and totally want to cultivate this new found love.

Okay so at times I am Swedish and comfortable with that. On the other hand there are times where I clearly am NOT Swedish:

Using English words and expressions is what I am comfortable with. When I get worked up over something, I want to speak English. All the way. Rather annoying for my parents and sister. I still write notes to myself in English and the grocery list is a mixture of Swedish and English. I have a really hard time with expressions in professional settings as I have only worked as a professional in English speaking countries. For example, at work I needed to use the Swedish version of the expression “Return to Sender” and I had to Google that one. I pronounce the names of companies totally in an American way. Sometimes I am using the correct Swedish word or expression but they come out sounding a bit formal. I guess I do that to overcompensate for the fact I don’t have a 100 percent firm grasp of my native tongue anymore.

Totally out of the loop when it comes to Swedish National Holidays. Not in terms of Christmas, Easter or Midsummer’s Eve, totally got them down. But Ascension Day?! Professional Sweden shut down and I was left with a limited number of bus lines and shops opened etc. Hit me by surprise to say the least. I tried to rack my brain to see if I could remember if we had this day off while I was still attending school in Sweden. Could not come up with an answer. In Sweden there is a separation of church and state. The reform was approved in 1996 and took place in the year 2000. But it seems as if we still celebrate Ascension Day. Okay, now I know for next year. And since it was a Thursday many Swedes enjoyed what we call “a squeeze day” and was off during Friday as well. Swedes work hard but oh loves their (our) time off too. And Pentecoast? My sis and I ventured down to the local gym only to find it was closing 20 minutes later due to this holiday. Needless to say, we still went in and did a hardcore workout - which I had to finish at home.

Although I have always been a bit of an adrenaline junkie (okay make that a massive junkie) and I used to ski downhill with the fastest speed possible and absolutely loved my skydive a few years back, I am now comfortable with driving 90-100 km/hour on the highway. In Sweden we can drive 110-120 km/hour. 100 km/hour is the equivalent to 62 miles/hour. I have been used to driving 65 miles/hour for the past 12 years. Okay okay, too many numbers!! I am not a numbers person. And I can honestly say that I did not keep to the legal speed limit at all times for the past 12 years, I mean c’mon! But I guess my muscle memory is telling my law abiding foot to drive 65 miles per hour. However, this is making me feel…old. I am working my way up to 110-120…it’s only a matter of time until I will be putting the pedal to the metal again on a regular basis. Pedal to the metal in the Mini or the Agera that is...

I totally have a bigger need for personal space than most Swedes do. I find people walking too close to my comfort zone in the grocery store for example very annoying. On the flip side, I love hugging my friends and while spending time in Argentina last year I fell in love with the kissing on the cheek among friends and acquaintances. So this personal space business confuses even me.

Some of these things are pretty funny, but at times it’s hard. I just have to give myself permission that it will take a while to grow accustomed to practices here. Last year when I left the US, I was scared. I took a step out into the unknown. I know it was hard for people to understand why Sweden was the unknown to me, a Swedish citizen with all the rights and privileges that comes with carrying the burgundy passport. I mean I have survived years on the road living in different places and countries and had both amazing experiences as well as some, quite frankly, terrifying ones. But again, I have been away for a long time. Sweden is just a new country for me to explore, and being the rightful owner of a Swedish passport can only take me so far in this process. The rest, well it’s up to me.

Amsterdam

Clever branding

Within the time frame of one month I have dragged my family to various “Districts” in Europe. The “Green Light District” in Christiania, a special part of Copenhagen with its own jurisdiction, and to the “Red Light District” which obviously can be found in Amsterdam, the capital of the Netherlands. Exploring the world one “District” at a time…and now it sounds like I am making references to the “Hunger Games trilogy”, oh dear.

As for the start of the trip to Amsterdam, the first step was to actually get on the flight from Copenhagen. We used my sisters’ cheap staff tickets, a privilege she has since she is a flight attendant. This is great, however it makes us part of the passengers placed on the standby list. It looked a bit grim for a while as the gate personnel announced it was a completely full flight. After the boarding closed arrangements were made and with Ida sitting in the cockpit we were granted access to the aircraft as the very last people onboard. Always a thrill!

Rush hour

Touched down in Amsterdam at Schiphol, one of my favorite airports, and vacation mode was on. And what a great city to have a mini vacation in! The vibe was so chill! I was struck by the laidback attitude of the people around the canals, locals and tourists alike. Now granted this was Saturday and the people around the canals may have some high stress jobs to return to on Monday morning, but it felt like the Amsterdamers really know how to enjoy life. It was a bright sunny day and loads of boats in various sizes were sharing the canals. Many people were going in groups in smaller vessels drinking wine, eating bread, chocolate and cheese. And the people on land did the same thing, enjoying the very best things in life, good food, good drinks and good company. I think I will share one of the highlights of the trip already: watching tourists, a few a bit tipsy, trying to maneuver little rental boats. I laughed so much I cried! May not have been so much fun for the professional drivers of the larger canal boats carrying tourists, but still, it was entertaining to say the least. The atmosphere was friendly and strangers standing on the docks assisted the newbies as they tried to park the small plastic rental boats.

Stepping away from the canals and into the narrow alleyways offered another view of Amsterdam. From the waterway one could see the amazing architecture and the beautiful buildings, many built so that they lean a bit forward to make them look larger. This also assists with moving furniture up and down the siding of the house (many buildings have hooks on the outside as taking in furniture through narrow staircases inside the house proves very difficult). Walking in the alleys, for example in the Jordaan District (see…another “Distinct”) offered closer views of the buildings and their decorations such as plants and elaborate shutters. However, when you leave the safety of the boat and step onto dry land there is big hazard in Amsterdam: Bicyclists with the courage of a daredevil on crack. How the Amsterdamers dare to ride their bikes so fast when they know there are plenty of slow moving tourists around beats me. Bicycles are everywhere in the city, including in the canals. It has been said that the canals are 3 meters deep: One meter water, one meter mud and one meter bicycles.

A trip to Amsterdam is not complete without a visit to the Red Light District. However, I don’t think we were keen on getting the full experience so we went there rather early in the evening and didn’t venture that deep into the alleyways. Saw a few red curtains, the “photography forbidden signs”, signs that read “you can smoke HERE” and “Belle,” the statue to honor sex workers everywhere. That was enough for us and I will leave it at that.

Poffertjes

My favorite part of traveling is always trying out local food and drinks. It didn’t used to be like that but now I am a huge foodie, like huge! To start of this section of the post I will write a few sentences about our breakfast at the hotel. It was not particular Dutch, but man it was tasty. I allowed myself to eat stuff I normally would never have in my kitchen such as white bread, waffles, pastries and Nutella. I am such a liar, I totally have Nutella from time to time! But I try not to. I love how luxurious it feels to eat breakfast somewhere else than your own kitchen. Or my sister’s kitchen as I don’t have my own yet. Moving on to the Dutch foods. We tried “Stroopwafel” which is two thin layers of baked dough with a caramel filling in the middle. It certainly was tasty and I had mine with a cup of coffee.  Another dish that comes from the same family are “Poffertjes” which are small puffy pancakes served with powdered sugar, butter and syrup. Tasty indeed! I may add they tasted great with a side of Heineken beer. To offset all the treats made out of various batters I had a tuna steak one evening. So delicious and enjoying the meal sitting by at a table right by the water was magical. Another food item worth mentioning was the Gouda cheese. I normally don’t eat too much cheese but trying Gouda, regular and with added spices, was heaven.

Anne Frank House

This trip was all about soaking up the vibe of the city, relaxing, spending time with my family and eating and drinking well. We did not do many touristy things while there. I mean, yes we did visit the Flower Market where thousands of tulips bulbs were displayed and sold. We also located the Royal Palace. There was however one spot I really wanted to visit: The Anne Frank House. The house where the young Jewish girl Anne Frank hid for two years with her family and others before they were betrayed and taken to various concentration camps during World War II. As our trip came together kind of late we could not sign up for tickets online as they were sold out way in advance. I had been told that you can stand in lines for hours without a ticket. We decided to stand in line for one hour and see how much further it would be after that initial hour. Sounds kind of cold to think like that, but we were just being realistic. After that initial hour we stood in line for another 35 minutes and we were in. A very important place to visit. It was well organized, but yet it’s hard to fathom what took place there. I think the Anne Frank House is very important as it may be hard for us to fully take in that millions of Jews and other people were killed by the Nazi regime. We can perhaps try to process that this special girl perished. And she was special not because she was a saint, she was special because she was human. Due to what happened to Anne, and millions of others, The Universal Declaration of Human Rights was adopted by the United Nations General Assembly on December 10^th 1948. May we never forget what took place during World War II. I think the organization behind the Anne Frank House carries out a very important job and I was glad to see so many people queuing for hours to visit the house. Maybe not everyone knew the exact background to this, morbidly put, “number one tourist attraction of Amsterdam” but since the staff handed out small brochures (offered in many, many different languages I may add) to read in the queue, I believe everyone benefitted from the visit.

After spending some time at the Anne Frank House we had to sit still and take it all in so we had coffee and hummus by the canal. Some time past and we climbed onboard yet another canal boat and visited the part of the harbor where the science center with the rather appropriate name "Nemo" was located. We never entered "Nemo" but it had a very cool upper deck which apparently offers great views of the city. We got off the boat and headed to a grocery store. I absolutely LOVE going to grocery stores abroad. I bought some stroopwafel to take home as gifts and weirdly enough toothpaste by a brand I can’t find in Sweden. Yeah I am a weird, weird tourist. One more sight to see before dinner and it was the narrowest, or at least one of the narrowest houses in the world, located at Singel 7. The house has a width of only one meter. And when we are on the subject of small living, seeing some of the 2500 houseboats located in the canals of Amsterdam was a real treat. It’s quite the romantic idea to picture oneself living on a houseboat in this beautiful city, but it’s rather hard to get a mooring permit. If I would live in Amsterdam I would probably try to have an apartment in the heart of the city, but totally have a good enough sized boat to chill with my friends and family on weekends.

Perfection

In summary - No stress, very chilled out vacation. Sitting on a canal boat watching people. Taking naps while on the boat. No rushing around. It was great. Thankful I now live in Europe so I can do this, travel to other parts of the continent and spend time with my family. And if we can do it rather cheaply using my sister's tickets, well that’s just a bonus. And as a side note, the Dutch language was amazing to my ears. Sounds like German mixed with Norwegian, mixed with English. Well not really, but I can’t say it better than that. I loved it. Very European. So I guess this means I am getting more and more European…maybe not completely Swedish, but I will take being European any day.

Settling In

Starting all over is not something I shy away from. I have switched continents 8 times over the past 12 years (as in moving the majority of my stuff etc). I am no stranger to new situations or people. But it’s not easy. When you change one thing about yourself, it can be scary. How about you change everything at once? Country, job, apartment, language, gym, grocery store, hairdresser, the person that takes care of your eyebrows (as I am sure you all have one of those), dentist, doctor, means of transportation…you get the point. It can be a bit nerve-wracking and quite frankly, daunting.

I spent the fall of 2014 vagabonding all over the world as that was my plan after leaving the US in June. I allowed myself some time to do what I love, traveling. It also eased my way into Swedish society as I was half here and half out in the world. But when the clock struck midnight on December 31, 2014 and we welcomed 2015, it was game time. Time to get serious about settling into life in Malmö. I had already started some stuff in the fall, but now it was time to mean business. Business as in my job search was on full blast. It was not a very enjoyable process, not at all. But in the end I was victorious (I am a very, very lucky duck) and in a magical twist of fate, I now work for the symbol of my new city, a skyscraper called Turning Torso. My aim was to find employment with a company/organization/place which I could be proud of and where I would utilize my broad, and somewhat weird, work/life experiences. I found it at Turning Torso and seriously, I could not be happier. As I want to dedicate myself to becoming the very best I can be in my new role, I am going to take a break from blogging for a while. Not that many of you are just dying to get small tidbits of my thoughts on a regular basis and this will be a huge inconvenience for you :) But I am however very grateful that so many of you like my writing and this warms my heart to the core. I will put the blog on ice like an expensive bottle of Champagne (think of it as a Boërl & Kroff Brut from 1996), which will be worth the wait. Sooner or later I will be back and we will pop this sucker right back open again.

I am excited to settle more and more into my new place of living. Finding my new job has most definitely assisted in this process in more ways I can say. The other day I bought a monthly bus card to use for going to and from work. I am beyond thrilled that I can take the bus there. I haven’t really ridden a bus anywhere on a regular basis for…well, all my life. I feel more Swedish for every ride I take. And I feel that I am part of the city, Malmö. I see the city wake up in the morning and I see it settle in for the evening, all depending on what time of day I head to and from work. It reminds me of the scene in “Beauty and the Beast” when the main character Belle sings the song “Little Town” and all the villagers start their working day. Seriously?! I can’t believe I just referenced a Disney movie yet again in this blog. Last time it was Olaf, the Snowman from “Frozen” who liked warm hugs. Regardless, I am now thrilled to start this new chapter of my life…living one adventure at a time. So for now…over and out.

I miss St. Louis

Still very happy I made the decision of returning home to Sweden after 12 years of vagabonding. But the country which was my home for so long still means a lot to me and always will. Here are a few things I miss about the United States of America, with an obvious emphasis on St. Louis, Missouri:

I miss Trader Joes (which is a grocery store) with their great products, friendly staff and fun shopping environment.

I miss Whole Foods (a grocery store with a focus on healthy living). I could walk around for hours looking at food and other items. Side note, I do not miss their prices though.

I miss that people bag the groceries for you – yeah, I know this makes me sound lazy.

I miss how easy it was to magically get a cake for a birthday. Same day as the celebration and you didn't have a cake? No worries, you could just swing by Dierbergs or Schnucks (they are grocery stores) and someone in the bakery would write the bday boy’s or girl’s name on a cake and you came out looking like a hero. Did I like all the frosting American cakes have? Not really, but they sure look impressive in all its artificial glory!

Still on the topic of grocery stores: I miss the ones which are open 24/7. I really didn’t have the need to go there very often in the middle of the night. However, along with friends I did go there a few times at weird hours of the day/night and it always felt a bit like an adventure.

Staying on the topic of generous opening hours: I miss my 24/7 gym access. The other day I was at my gym in Malmö pounding away on a treadmill while watching a crappy makeover show. All of a sudden one of the workers turned off the screen and I realized it was closing time. Not only did I have to wrap up my workout in a rushed manor, I will never know what happened to the Cinderella wannabe in the show. How will I go on?! I guess I will have to change to a 24/7 gym as they do exist here too.

And gyms: I miss cheap gym memberships…oh Club Fitness…22 dollars per month.

I miss speaking English all the time. Some things just sound cooler when said in American English.

I miss bagels, although they are not the most healthy breakfast option for you. Sweden does not seem to be able to deliver on the bagel front.

I miss pizza. Before I went to the US, I did not care for pizza. But now I miss Dewey's Pizza. I am sorry St. Louis; thin crust pizza at Imo’s never made its way into my heart.

I miss driving in the USA, as basically the only other thing you have to worry about is other cars. In Europe, there are pedestrians, bicyclists, trams, buses and vespas to look out for.

I miss being in an academic environment. Being part of St. Louis Community College at Meramec and Webster University for so long offered me countless opportunities each week to attend lectures and talks given by some of the brightest and most inspirational minds out there. My daily contact with fellow students also allowed me to interact with people from all over the world. I also had the chance to work with some really talented coworkers.

I miss having Starbucks on each corner. Kind of weird that I miss it as I usually like independently run coffe shops that has a lot of character to them. But with Starbucks, well it’s familiar. When I lived in Sydney and was “homesick” for the US, I went down to my local Starbucks in Darling Harbour. But ordering a “flat white” did bring me back to present time as a “flat white” was not something I would ask a US barista for. However, now, in the beginning of 2015, you can order a flat white anywhere in the world.

I miss how easy it was to travel to other places from the Lou. Five hours or so in a car would take you to Memphis, Chicago or Kansas City. Jump on a plane and a weekend trip anywhere in the US was possible.

I miss the different neighborhoods and parts of St. Louis. My journey started out in Chesterfield, and later I moved to Olivette, Kirkwood, Shrewsbury, back out west to Wildwood and finally I settled in Webster Groves. All those spots have a special place in my heart. But my favorite area in the city: Central West End.

I miss driving out to Augusta and Defiance and visit wineries. During fall, the drive is especially magical as the leaves are displaying radiant colors of red, yellow and orange.

I miss Schlafly Bottleworks - the establishment made a beer drinker even out of me.

I miss how excited St. Louis residents get over their beloved baseball team, the Cardinals. And to lesser extent, but still excited, over their hockey team, the Blues, and their football team, the Rams.

I miss Forrest Park. A great, huge park which can make Central Park in New York City run for its money. Sitting at the top of Art Hill was one of my favorite things to do in StL.

I miss clubbing. I miss going into Horizon at Harry’s or at Pepper Lounge and seeing 20 (no kidding!) of my friends there. I also miss the Oz, a nightclub over in East St. Louis, a place which carries great memories and also sends a little bit of shiver down my spine.

I miss the Loop (an area in St. Louis) where I used to go to shows at the Pageant and chill at the rooftop bar at the Moonrise Hotel.

I miss the Grove (another area in St. Louis) and the unique bar/Russian and vegan restaurant/club called the Handle Bar. In the Grove you can also find my absolute favorite restaurant in St. Louis: Everest Cafe and Bar (Nepalese, Indian and Korean cuisine). 

And speaking of great food, I miss the ethnic restaurants found along Grand Boulevard.

I miss the Cathedral Basilica with its amazing mosaics. I have taken many quests there over the years and each time I marvel at its beauty.

I miss the Arch. Upon learning I was going to be an Au Pair in St. Louis I had to Google the city. And there it was. The gleaming Arch, the Gateway to the West. The Arch is made of stainless steel and is a simple, yet gorgeous monument. Every time I flew into the city at night, seeing the little red light on top of the Arch made me think: Okay, I am back to my American hometown now.

But of course, without a doubt, I miss the people the most. Many who are not there anymore and hence if I came back it would not be the same, not at all. But I have some of my very best friends still living in the Lou. Lou people or fellow vagabonds, you know who you are and I miss you.

I miss my American family dearly, a family who I have seen on a regular basis for the past 12 years. I love that despite not having my biological family with me I have always had a real family to go home to in moments of sadness and in moments of celebration.

I know I am missing mentioning a lot of missing items here. (That’s a whole lot of missing going on in that sentence).  And I know there are many of my friends, most of them internationals who have studied in the US/St. Louis and returned home, or expats living outside of the US, who most likely feel the same way. St. Louis is a very special place…So Meet Me in St. Louis. This ending to my post works best if you are aware there is a movie from 1944 named “Meet Me in St. Louis.” On second thought, scratch that…just Meet Me in St. Louis one day. If you are new to the place, I will give you the Grand Tour.