Sometimes I need to remind myself that I am in fact 28-years of age and not 12. Today in our weekly conversation class we were having a polite chat about Swedish customs when the word ‘prick’ entered the lexicon which in my adopted tongue means to ‘arrive on the dot’ being the timely Scandinavians and all. Our conversationalist kept emphasizing the ‘ick’ and it was inevitable I was going to crack, while my Croatian classmate who was au fait with the word, broke into hysterics also. I managed to explain in my limited svenska that in English it means something altogether different and then we all wet ourselves laughing. The joys of adulthood.
We’ve now progressed onto Kurs C and to celebrate we had a minitest. Today’s one went better than previous attempts as we had to use our imagination to complete sentences plus we had to recite the parts of the body. Went pretty well but then again I’ve said that before. By the time we complete this section in May I should be able understand forms, send a text and have some ‘kunskap’ of my new country beyond that of Abba and Sven-Goran Eriksson.
Speaking remains the hardest part for me but yesterday I did overcome a tiny mental block by asking for cash back in the local supermarket in svenska. My heart was pounding as I expected the cashier to hand me my immigration forms if I screwed up but I wormed my way through and left my second home of Hemköp with a spring in my step. If you’re wondering why I spend an eternity in a supermarket it’s because I’m usually handed a list in Swedish and spend an age trying to remember the figure out the difference between ananas and banan.
Speaking of which I must make a swift dash as I hear there is a sale on Skånerost…
P.S. Picked up a copy of 8 Sidor in the school library. I hope I’m not imbuing the work of their newscrew but they’ve produced a quick, easy read which is ideal for us beginners. You can listen to the news on their website which is valuable way of learning and NO I’m not after a job with them. Ye cynics.