Sverige on my Mind

Another American Girl in Love with Sweden, and a Swede
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American-Swedish Holidays

Monday, January 11th, 2010

Bonne année! Gott Nytt År! Happy New Year!!

Hello everyone, and welcome to 2010. I have been hibernating these past few weeks so I apologize for my lack of writing, but I am back and ready to start this New Year on a productive note.

So to begin, yes, I have just returned from experiencing my first Swedish holidays and friends, I have to say, I’m hooked.

First off, the whole event of Christmas is completely and utterly amplified in Europe in general: markets, ferris wheels and decorations galore. While I found Göteborg to not be so over-the-top with the street décor and such (with the exception of Liseberg which is a winter wonderland) the traditions definitely proved that Sweden can be the capital of Christmas (after all, Santa Claus does live here, or is it Finland? Or both?…)

Tradition is alive in everything: from the food you eat to the spontaneous singing and drinking during dinner, the annual Disney extravaganza to the exchanging of gifts.

Being the only American and foreigner at this year’s festivities in Sweden with the boyfriend’s family, I definitely stuck out and I realized something: being an American abroad (or being anything abroad for that matter), you are almost expected to be an expert on your home country and the traditions and history that it holds.

I think I failed miserably at this task. As well as at trying to pick up a few of the Swedish traditions as well.

First, Christmas in Sweden is not really celebrated on December 25th, it is celebrated on our Christmas Eve, the 24th. It commences with a visit to church in the morning and then at around 13h00, dinner is served. Swedish Christmas dinner is a literal smörgåsbord of Swedish cuisine: sill, Christmas cheddar, julvort, köttbullar and beet sauce, pate, eggs and kalles kaviar, skinka, knäckebröd and shot after shot of snaps. Everything goes in a pattern of: eat, drink, sing, repeat.

This was all very exciting to me: the new variety of flavors and getting drunk as a tradition—very fun indeed (even though I need to work on my shot-taking skills, and need to acquire a taste for sill. I’m still working on that). I did have some troubles singing along to the chants and songs, but I am still beginner in this language, so I have to give myself a break there.

It wasn’t until my boyfriend’s mother turned to me and asked “what is Christmas dinner like in America?” did I realize either how little I knew about the U.S. or how totally random and weird my family is.

In my house growing up, we eat lasagna for dinner on Christmas Eve. We have it with salad that you buy in a bag from the grocery store, and that frozen garlic bread you just cut and stick in the oven for 5 minutes. We eat it sitting in front of the T.V. watching A Christmas Story and sometimes we will drink egg nog (the non-alcoholic version from Safeway).

Uhhhh, what kind of tradition is that? And what really is a typical American Christmas? I’m not sure if I really know…

Back in Sweden, we all gathered in the living room to watch Kalle Anka’s Christmas special after dinner. Kalle Anka (Donald Duck for the non-Swedes reading this) is a necessity for a Swedish Christmas. It is pretty much a compilation of the most classic Disney cartoons and films all wrapped into one hour-long display and while none of it has to do with Christmas at all really, it was a great treat of nostalgia for me.

At around 16h00 or 17h00, Dad steps out to “get the papers.” My boyfriend, his mother and I were sitting around the Christmas tree awaiting his return, when we were surprised by a knock at the door. Immediately the two shoot a glance in my direction, to see my reaction, and my heart skips a beat. Could it be? Is it really him? Tomten???

I crept to the door, and as I cracked it open, low and behold, SANTA was there. I’m telling you, I was 5 years old again and speechless in amazement. I was in the Christmas epicenter of Sweden and Santa was in our house.

“Haven’t you ever had Santa come to your house before?” my boyfriend asked.

Well, no. I mean, yes of course he comes at night when I am sleeping, and I’ve gone to see him at the mall and stuff. But I’ve never actually seen him in my house.

Santa went to work distributing the gifts to everyone, and this in itself was yet another form of tradition. In Sweden, creating special rhymes and riddles as Christmas cards makes the gift-giving process more fun and meaningful. Each present gets one and it is written to the receiver as a sort of “hint” as to what the gift is.

Yet again, I get the question of, “how do you do this in America?”

In America, we wake up at 6AM on Christmas Day and it is a mad dash to the Christmas tree to all tear open your gifts together. Sometimes my family and I will take turns opening, but sometimes things aren’t even wrapped—they are just placed under the tree because the “elves” ran out of time to wrap them.

After all the presents were handed out at our home in Sweden, Santa (Tomten) had to be on his way. So many other houses to visit that night! (It is my theory that Sweden celebrates Christmas a day earlier than the U.S. because Santa starts there (as he lives there) and then doesn’t get to America until later).

That evening it was more Christmas television specials with Svensson, Svensson and then it was time for porridge. Another customary Christmas food, porridge is eaten in the evening at the end of all the festivities, and the lucky one who finds the almond inside gets to make the wish. Well of course I forgot about that part and scarfed down my whole bowl, thinking that crunchy part was perhaps some uncooked grain and I should just swallow it whole to be polite. Everyone stared at me as I licked the last part clean, wondering where the “wish” they had so carefully planted in my portion had gone. Yeah, I had done so well up until then! Drinking the snaps, singing the songs, eating all the fish! And then I freaking ate the almond. Oh well, I guess there will be next year :)

Anyways, my stomach and soul is overflowing with julmust and glogg now. Pepparkakor are coming out my ears and I have gained at least 8 kilos. No joke.

I am completely satisfied an enthralled by the traditions of Sweden, but it has definitely made me wonder more about my home and my “culture.” America is such a mixture, a melting pot of all sorts of customs. I know there has got to be something other than lasagna on Christmas and material overindulgence out there.

I’m going to attempt to find something more back at home next holiday, and hopefully not end up eating the almond, or anything like that, in the process.

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“I wish my parents had been more like my Swedish boyfriend”

Monday, December 7th, 2009

Over the years I have come to learn about many of the characteristics and traits of the Swedish person.

Of course, all of this knowledge has been acquired with the help of my own Swedish boyfriend. Actually, come to think of it, just about everything I know about Sweden and Swedes has been from what he has taught and told me, so there is a very big possibility he is making it all up and that I am totally off base here.

But, I am going to have faith that my relationship is not a total lie and go along with these generalizations as truths, but please everyone, feel free to stop me or contradict me if I make any disagreeable observations.

This week: Swedes are as tough as nails.

I am an American, as I think you all know by now, and in my experiences abroad and in my relationship with a Swede I have come to the conclusion that I am just too soft. Allow me to explain.

I am currently living in France participating in a fellowship through the French government where I teach English in various public schools.

Now, I have had a “thing” for France since I was a little girl (though this “thing” for France has since manifested into a “thing” for Sweden, don’t you worry).  Anyways, I have always been fascinated and intrigued by the culture, history, language and romance of France.

It is actually because of this impassioned interest of mine that I ever met my Swede in the first place, came to Sweden and started this blog.

My boyfriend and I met while studying at the Université d’Aix-Marseille in Aix-en-Provence, France.  This of course just fueled my obsession with France even more: I spent a year in the paradise of Southern France and fell in love with a gorgeous European man. How much more perfect could it get?

Fast forward three years later to now. After moving back to the States for almost 2 years I have now finally made it back to France—the country of dreams, right?

Not quite.

Now, I am living in the North of France, and I am freaking cold. It is wet, and gloomy and pretty much as depressing as the dark ages. Kind of a cool historical experience I guess.

I live in a sleepy little town where people are…weird, to say the least.

I only work 12 hours a week, but my schedule is so spread out it is hard to leave to go anywhere and I am left with long, boring afternoons, dreaming of my home up North (a.k.a. Sverige).

So, I’ve been whining and crying a lot. “Why is there no hot water in this country??” “Why is French bureaucracy so retarded?” “Why am I wasting time in this silly place when I could be up in a more civilized country with my love in Sweden??” etc, etc.

Yeah, I’m a big baby. When I am a big baby, I call my mommy and daddy and they make me feel better:

“Oh Sweetie, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. If it is so bad, you can come home, or you can move to Paris or Sweden. We will help you do whatever it is you want.”

When I am a big baby and call my Swedish beau, he really couldn’t care less:

“Yeah, that sucks. So deal with it. It was your decision to move there in the first place.”

What?! But I’m crying, and sad, and France is stupid and French kids are mean! Fix it!!

Swedish boyfriend: “Liana, what do you want me to do? This is your bed you made and you just have to sleep in it.”

And dammit, he’s right.

I always thought, why would I ever do anything I didn’t want to do? Why would I waste my precious time on anything like that? Have it your way, right?

Well, the rest of the world doesn’t really think that way, especially the Swedes I know.

Maybe it’s their warrior, Viking blood or their ability (and need) to survive cold, dark winters, but my Swedish family has never encouraged giving up. Quitting is not something they know much about.

When I told my boyfriend that I was actually considering leaving France and quitting this program early, he didn’t quite understand. Sure, he has bad days too, and he definitely knows how to complain, but to up and quit? Nah-ah. No way.

With him and his family, there is no bullshit—it is simple: you make decisions, and you deal with them.

Is this the same for all Swedes? I don’t know, you tell me. But mom and dad, come on. I am 23-years old. It’s about time I learned to suffer a little.

It all just builds character, right?

Until next time, puss och kram Sverige.

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Swedish Sex: Overly liberated, or am I just an American Prude?

Friday, November 27th, 2009

When dating someone from a different country, there are bound to be a plethora of cultural differences and misunderstandings. For me, and for dating a man from Sweden, there has been one topic that continually evokes a dialogue of different views and opinions: sex.

Before I started dating my Swede, and I hate to admit this, I didn’t know too much about Sweden, nor did I think very often about it. Honestly, I could probably tell you Ikea, H&M, Volvo and meatballs, and that would be the extent of my knowledge on the country. Since being formally introduced to Sweden, I have learned about it profusely: from its history to its language, to its food and culture and to its liberal approach to speech and, well, sex.

Now, in America, we have freedom of speech as well. Also, I was by no means raised in a strict religious household. I think we had pretty open dialogues about sex, if I ever wanted to have them, and it was never portrayed as something strictly taboo. However, when it came to sex, I was taught to wait until I was with someone “special” to do it and that it was something that two people do when in “love.” I also wasn’t allowed to watch movies or TV shows that contained “adult content” until I was of the appropriate age, in my parents’ opinions.

The education my boyfriend received on this topic and the attitude that was instilled in him was a little bit different. In our discussions on the topic it seems he was introduced to sex at a much younger age and was taught that it was a thing of pleasure that it was ok to experiment with. Of course he was taught to be safe and to always respect whichever sexual partner he was to have, but he was never told not to do it, and in my opinion, was almost encouraged to try.

Coming from a country where abstinence has been the forerunner in sexual education for so long, this was a little shocking to me. Of course I don’t live under a rock and I know how ridiculous it is to tell hormonal teenagers to just not have sex, but to out rightly tell them to do it, I could never imagine such a thing.

I was shocked even more recently when watching the first episode of Sweden’s Paradise Hotel television show where, on the first night, two of the contestants on the show slept together and the act was played on TV. Yes, we have Big Brother and other similar shows in the U.S. where participants sleep together as well and it is put on TV for all to know about. It is shown in the same way: night vision cameras, mostly just lumps under the covers in the bed, showing just enough movement for you to guess what is going on. But on Swedish TV they leave in all the explicit dialogue of the event so that little is left to the imagination: “Wait, I want to do it doggy style” “No, just stay like this” “Oh, I am coming now..” “Wait for me so we can come together” “No, no I am coming now, ohhh, I’m coming” “Can we do it again in the morning so I can come too?” (this is my attempt to translate this from Swedish, so I apologize if it isn’t quite accurate, but hey, I tried).

This complete lack of privacy was, again, shocking for me. This was on regular television, for anyone to see. My boyfriend argued that it was on later in the evening, so children probably wouldn’t have been able to watch it. But come on, if I can figure out how to watch this show online and in France, any 10 year old Swedish kid could do the same.

The thing that puzzled me the most was how sex could be shown so explicitly and as if it is no big deal on public television. Is this the kind of message that a country wants to be sending to their young children, who are being told it is ok to go out and experiment with sex?

But then I thought, what is the big deal? I myself am making sex taboo—something that should be hidden behind closed doors. Perhaps when putting it out there, completely naked and uncensored (literally) it really does promote a healthier sexual lifestyle for a people.

The Local today published an article about the Green Party politician Sofia Bothorp who made explicit comments about Sweden’s views on sex during a local council debate (http://www.thelocal.se/23506/20091126/). Again, I am pondering that maybe it is me who needs to loosen up and embrace this freedom of sexual expression. Ok, maybe Bothorp should have saved her comments for a more appropriate time and not during a political meeting, but I think she is right to be proud and grateful for the openness Sweden has for speech, expression and sex. I’m not quite sure how that would work for America, and I still do get a bit uncomfortable on the topic, but I’m willing to push my sexual self to not be so rigid.

Who knows, maybe teaching kids about the best ways to pleasure themselves and slang words for their sexual organs is a good thing (see other article on The Local about sex education in Sweden today http://www.thelocal.se/23032/20091102/). Maybe it makes for a happier and healthier people and a more peaceful country. Swedes seem pretty content to me.

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Posted in Sweden, USA | 4 comments »