Hallå, hallå!

Why am I showing you a picture of a breakfast, you may ask? Good question.

1. As anyone who knows me well can tell you, breakfast is my favorite meal, so naturally breakfast in a foreign country is extra exciting.

2. Breakfast in Sweden is an immediate flashback to childhood, as well as the last time I was here, making smorgås and having filmjölk like my life depended on it.

3. It is representative of the late start I got off to today. Having no alarm clock this whole time, I was of the mindset that I would “get up when the sun came up.” Utterly false. Today I woke up at 11:20. Embarrassing, that is.  I came downstairs in my aunt and uncle’s house to have a quiet meal alone, the rest of the family having gone off to work or dagis (daycare, without the same connotations in Sweden). I realized that the only reason I got up at a reasonable hour the last two days was because I heard the kids downstairs.

Anyways, it was probably necessary for me to (finally) get over this cold I’ve had for the past few weeks. Sleep cures everything.

The past few days have been such a nice reminder of how very fortunate I am. Away from Harvard, with the family I love and in a place that feels like an old T-shirt, I’m able to get a broader perspective on my time here.

Yes, I am in Sweden. I can now speak Swedish without any hesitation, which would have been unfathomable a few years ago. I am immersed in a lifestyle that I wish to carry over later on in life. I am extremely happy here.

Yesterday Ulrika (my aunt) and I went into Skansen with the kids, Alvin and Elsa. Elsa is six and Alvin is three, which means that (hopefully) they’ll remember me after I leave here. Skansen is the Swedish equivalent of an attraction for families, except that it’s way more low-key than noisy American, tourist-filled jungle gyms. It’s basically a park with a lot of historic buildings (i.e. cottages), where one can see animals and women baking tunbröd right before your very eyes. (We ate some of said bread; it was delicious.)

The day before that we stayed around the house, baking muffins to fika later, walking out into the woods for a little picnic, and playing “follow the leader” in the backyard. I forget how exhausting it is to entertain kids – flying like an airplane and walking on all four hands and feet like a bear takes serious energy. The two of them are so unbelievably adorable. Alvin is probably the easiest child ever, cracking up at all of his own jokes and running around with a perpetual smile on his face. Today we sat in the backyard and just laughed at nothing. Literally nothing. We just looked at each other and couldn't stop laughing. Elsa is beautiful and very sweet. She is a lot more understanding than she was as a three-year-old, the last time I was here, simply accepting things instead of always asking, “Värför det?” Both are such funny, smart kids, and I can see that Sven and Ulrika raised them really well.

Sven was gone the whole weekend on an Aikido tournament, which was actually okay because it meant that Ulrika and I got to spend some time together.

I’ve had time to notice some key differences between Swedes and American/English people. Swedes are very quiet. It makes me wonder where I got my chatty gene… Although actually, that’s mostly just in Annenberg. I’m often perfectly content with sitting in silence during meals, which has happened often here. I understand a lot of where my dad and I got our tendency to reserve comments for ones that truly add to a conversation. This quieter demeanor leads to a quieter country. Walking through the streets, I was caught by how silent it was. Maybe because I was exploring on a Monday afternoon, but it was still a huge change from London or even Cambridge.

Swedes also love their desert, and will basically eat like birds the rest of the day to save room for ice cream, although they won't tell you that. There are a lot of blondes here, but it's more racially diverse than I had anticipated. There seems to be an "edgy" trend among young people; those between 16 and 25 often have shaved or slicked-back hair, piercings or a tattoo. What a shame, in a country with such fantastic natural beauty.

Today (after some confusion getting directions… hehe) I rode the train into the city to explore by myself. There are few things I like more than walking through cities, especially if it involves café hopping or, better yet, museum hopping. Although I didn't museum hop, I spent the afternoon basically just taking photos. I had an (overpriced) ice cream in the middle of Gamlastan, where I let the early summer sun warm my smiling face. This I could get used to.

Also, my apologies for talking about food all the time. I can't help it.

[A side note: my decision to take a break from my vegetarianism this summer is one of the better ones I've made recently. I've had three salmon dinners, pork pie, salami, and a number of other things that would have been a shame to miss out on. At least, that's how I'm justifying it until I come back to dining hall food.]

I'm not sure what the next couple of weeks will bring. It's weird to be here only three years later, when I already remember so much of the city. I have no routine here, so am a little purposeless, floating between relatives. But I won't complain about that.