Caught by the super

We have an amazing recycling system at our new apartment, unlike at my old Texas residence where this service wasn't offered and fairly difficult to find around town.

Instead of just a big dumpster, our trash room (or "soprum") downstairs has a different bin for paper, plastic, cans, compost, newspaper and even old appliances. If you don't separate your garbage in the separate containers, and someone finds out, you'll supposedly get in some kind of trouble. I assume a hefty fine.

And so, when all of our belongings arrived after the voyage from Texas to Sweden, we had a ton -- and I mean a TON of paper that was wrapped around every piece of furniture, picture, you name it, to keep it safe during the long trip. We've already taken down at least five loads of this stuff plus boxes and jammed it into the bins.

Each time we've gone back to take yet another load, we're amazed at how fast the last over-stuffed containers have been cleaned. We think, "wow -- they are really efficient here."

Today, however, as we brought even more of the never-ending paper to the soprum, we met the sweet old man we've run into many a time at the apartment that we now know is the super. The first time I met him, he told me a detailed story about when he went snorkeling near Florida after he found out I was from the USA.

When he saw us with all the paper, he said, "Oh, I was wondering where all this paper was coming from." Apparently this poor old man has been loading his car up since Friday with our paper and taking it to the recycling center or whatever they call it since the trash collectors don't come during the weekends. He said he was so happy to see us so he could explain the issue.

He also translated a note he posted near the soprum's exit that said everyone must tear down their boxes or the rent will go up -- apparently because of how much more work the trash collectors will have to do.

With guilty looks on our faces, we told him we'd take our paper back up to our apartment until after the trash collectors came. But he was still such a nice man and insisted repeatedly that he'd take care of it. I still feel a little guilty.

It really was better the super was there so we could get this explanation for yet another Swedish thing we didn't know. Learning all the little nuances of living here is what keeps things interesting.

Another day in Sweden, another important lesson learned.