living in Sweden is character building #1

My husband doesn’t get my jokes. My friend Patrick said it’s because I don’t say ”Jag skojar bara” at the end of the jokes. This is true and in fact one of the many ”codes” one learns to unlock with time if you are lucky when co-habiting with the Swedes. I only learnt the later a few days ago. There is still hope for slow coachers like myself. There is a fridge magnet that was given to me long time ago that has a picture of a Dala horse with the inscription, ”Living with a Swede is character building”. I am certainly blessed to have met such fortune twice. I wouldn’t have it any other way. This is true. Sweden has been good to me but like the heading says, it’s character building and the seasonal adjustments are not only about the weather, although I do recommend to newcomers to make friends in the summer as that is when the Swedes are most inclined to be more chatty than usual and one establishes a point of contact that you can refer to come the autumn/winter dip. You know what I mean…it gets very lonely if you don’t plan ahead.

A friend of Mr Eriksson’s rang and invited us to dinner, she said that we were welcome to come over…on week 39. Week 39! I exclaimed, We might be dead, divorced or deported, I said. What about now, today? Next week? Any day that I can say tomorrow, or the day of the week I can remember by it’s name like Monday to Friday. What is ”week 39” ? I can’t even plan the next day! I have buckled under pressure and week 39 it is. Only African ant species and Swedes plan in weeks ahead of time.

Anyway, as autumn has already arrived without any warning, I am already dreading the temperature dispute I have with Mr Eriksson who does not accept that the home we cohabit together is below humane heating levels for a southern hemisphere creature like myself. He cannot comprehend that the legal 17 degrees thermostat is what is a long and endless winter where I come from and might as well count that as a return of the ice age. They say that there is no such thing as cold weather only inadequate clothing. I will remember this when I put on another layer of those rag sockor and wish I lived in the large green house Rent-a-plant recently purhased to keep the hibiscus and lillies warm for winter.

My mother rang recently after months of not hearing from her or her from me. She still cannot comprehend what I am doing here. I cannot either. She has told her relatives on the other side that I work for the Swedish telecommunications company. The family expect mobiles for Christmas and believe that I am selfish for not sending them. I keep correcting her to say that I am married to an Eriksson not working at one. The line went all fuzzy and she didn’t hear the last bit. She asked me what day it was in Sweden, I said it was Wednesday. She said, ”that’s funny, it’s Wednesday here too!”

I am have difficulty with defining myself and my purpose when there are days that feel I am trudging through mud to simply reach the basic A to B tasks. There are moments where I think someone knows something that I don’t know around here and no one is going to tell me. Should it be this hard???? Why does IT feel so hard? Is there a code to the easy route and the ones like me, have to go the hard route and I will always be on the hard route because no is going to offer to suggest, ” Why don’t you try it this way?” Or ”Why don’t you come over here and I can help you the easier way?” When Mr Eriksson and I registered at the unemployment office for those who work in the culture section, Mr Eriksson got accepted immediately in the register. I had to go through a high school and University equivalent exam to prove that I was what I was and had some actual proof to prove it. ”I’m here aren’t I ?” I also had to report to a ”handläggare” to help me find my ”work”. Mr Eriksson didn’t have to report in once. In the end I was quite frustrated I told my handläggare, ” du är helt ute i skogen och du kan drar åt helvete”.

Fru Eriksson