Stockholm in photos

After living in Sweden for almost four months, I finally took a train to the country's capital, Stockholm, with Russell last weekend. Other than going to the famous Vasa museum, we didn't have anything specific planned, and decided to go on foot and discover the sights as we explored. Below are some highlighted photos from the trip.

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Newlywed adventures in a Swedish kitchen

Russ and I love watching “Masterchef Australia” and aspiring to one day create culinary perfection, but that day hasn’t come. This goal becomes more of a struggle when you go from cooking in America to Sweden.

On Russell’s birthday, I decided to make a pot roast. Cooking roast beef in an oven for half a day in Texas produces a wonderful, succulent meal. Cooking roast beef for the same time in Sweden creates a dry, chewy, “I’m sorry your birthday meal isn’t good” result. Why? Our assumption is the difference in meat quality. I know, I know, I should have known better, but when you see it in the store and it looks like it could be good and you've been craving it for a long time....well, you get the idea.

But we continue to persevere and experiment with different ingredients that go beyond our former bachelor/bachelorette food groups. Yesterday, I came home from the university and heard Russ coughing in the kitchen. I asked, “Are you OK?” This was shortly followed by breathing in a strong smell and my own coughing. Between gasping for air, I asked Russ what was going on, and he said he had (through his coughs) cooked a chili pepper in a pan, causing some kind of pepper gas to emit in the air.

We think this has something to do with not taking out the seeds before cooking, but if anyone has a better explanation, please let us know. We finally opened some windows and the balcony and were able to breathe a little easier. Russell had the strongest whiff directly in his face from the pan, so he was sniffling the rest of the evening. I’d share one solution he tried to help alleviate the problem, but he repeatedly asked me not to do so on this forum.

How was the food? The spices Russell used on the pork actually tasted pretty good, albeit a little too overpowering for my taste. I only got through half a chop while Russell ate his in full along with my half. Every time I kissed Russ during the evening, my lips burned a bit. You can imagine the jokes he made about this.

If Russ is able to reduce the seasoning and not cook the seeds, we may have a great meal on our hands. Sometimes, like any budding chef, you have to learn the hard way. Let’s just hope next time, no gas is involved.

First week in a global newsroom

Journalists from across the world converged in Sweden last week as we all started a master’s program in global journalism.

Our 25 students come from Germany, Ethiopia, Romania, Russia, Pakistan, Uganda, Poland, Armenia, Turkey, Iran, Bangladesh, Cameroon, Vietnam, Egypt, two (including me) from the U.S., Sweden, and I’m sure others I’m missing. Most have journalistic or language-related experience, such as the man from Egypt who has spent time converting English to Arabic, or the woman from Vietnam who worked for the Vietnam News Agency.

We’ve only had our introductory class so far, but already I can tell this is going to be an interesting group for many thoughtful discussions.

Whenever I'm asked where I'm from, I say the U.S., which gets a generally acceptable response from most, but when I mention Texas, I'll either get an outspoken person say, "so, you're a red-blooded Republican from Bush country" or another who just stares at me awkwardly. Let's just say I've had many a conversation about the various viewpoints that (to many, surprisingly) can be found in this state.

This semester we're taking two courses, an intro class called “global journalism, global media” and another called “online investigative journalism.” Toward the middle of the semester, we’re going to Helsinki, Finland, for one week of an intensive study course and then will return to complete the work on this class.

We’ve had some orientations for all international master’s students, not just my program, that in some ways made me feel like a starting undergrad. We were taken step-by-step through processes like how to research in the library, how to set up your student account, and so on. But, in this case, it makes sense because much of the system is in Swedish, and so we need the extra guidance to understand.

Another orientation topic was Swedish customs. A constant custom of discussion is fika, which is a break or meeting with others, socially or professionally, for coffee and a pastry. This typically is in the mid-morning or afternoon, but really can be anytime. It was amusing to me how very important the Swedes made this custom.

Tomorrow I have intro to the global journalism program, Part 2. On Wednesday, it’s an intro to the first course. And, finally, we begin with our first official class on Thursday.


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Translated worship

Wearing headphones in church has always seemed disrespectful until we attended our first church service in Sweden Sunday.

A kind woman who first greeted us with “valkommen” and then “oh, engelska” led us to the back two rows of the church where headphones were placed over the pews. We were told someone would translate the message from Swedish to English through these devices.

The church wasn’t large, so it didn’t seem like all the internationals were segregated to the back of the congregation as one might think. We were the first who sat in these rows, but by the time the service started, almost every headphone was in use. A man from Australia who moved to the country with his Swedish wife said sometimes there aren’t enough to go around.

The music wasn’t translated from Swedish. By the end, though, we recognized the music of one popular worship song. In this moment, I didn’t feel as out of place as I sang the words in my native tongue.

There is something beautiful about listening to a new language worship and find faith in something bigger than our individual selves. Witnessing this made me feel closer to a people I still have much to learn about.

It was difficult at times focusing on the message when I couldn’t stop myself from trying to understand the Swedish while also fully understanding through the translation. I hope I get better at this as time goes by.

While it was a good experience to take a step toward finding an area church, there were a few key things we didn't agree with in the message. The Australian said there are other churches in town that offer a translation. We’re going to check these out and see what works for us. The best solution, of course, is to continue to work on our Swedish so we may not miss anything that’s lost in translation. Until then, it’s nice and a very Swedish thing to make foreigners and everyone feel included, which, in my opinion, is also something a true follower of God would do.

Why I love Örebro

I’ve been living in Örebro for more than a month, and I now understand how appealing the city was to Russell when he first visited last September.

For someone who has always lived in cities where driving everywhere is the norm, walking to stores just around the corner is a welcomed change. And, since we don’t have a car here, we regularly walk and bike to longer distances on the other side of town, which can only mean good things for our health.

History: Örebro was founded in the 1400s. Interesting, unique buildings fill the city, which is paved with cobblestone streets. A 13th century castle sits in an islet in the middle of town. We’ve come a long, long way from McMansions and celebrations for 100-year-old sites.

Strawberries: This is seasonal, but right now there are several outdoor vendors selling this delectable fruit all over town. You can smell the fresh hint of the berry everywhere you go.

Kaffe: There has got to be one coffee (kaffe) shop for every 100 people in this city of 150,000. As an admitted coffee addict, I couldn’t be happier. The best part is, none of them are Starbucks.

Nature: A river runs through the city and a beautiful, peaceful nature preserve and lake are just a 30-minute walk from our apartment.

Shopping: I’m still discovering the various kinds of stores here. There have been a couple times when I’ve walked into a store and realized it’s part of a bigger mall I hadn’t seen before. Russell says since Örebro is the county seat, many of the surrounding cities come to this town for shopping, making it a marketplace hub. I’m not complaining.

Recycling: As I mentioned in a previous post, an apartment dweller has no problem finding a place to recycle here because it’s downstairs in our building. In fact, it’s expected that you separate your paper, plastics, aluminum, compost, etc.

Language: One of the best experiences is learning a new language. Yes, it’s easier for us because most people speak English. But I have no desire to be the lazy Americans who never knew the little nuances of the culture because we couldn’t communicate in the native tongue or read the local newspapers. Every time I talk to someone in English and the conversation is semi-confused, I get a twinge and wish I could say what I want to in Swedish. I’m working on it.

The cereal aisle is judging us

Don’t expect to find Lucky Charms or many other sugary cereals when visiting a Swedish grocery store.

Most of the cereal is Muesli, which is crunchy, unsweetened oats with raisins or another dried fruit. There are several varieties of this stocked on the shelves. Other than Muesli, you can find Special K, corn flakes, multigrain Cheerios or high fiber selections.

Yes, there are Coco Puffs and Frosted Flakes, but these are typically in a small box, and there are very few of them on the shelf compared to the healthier choices.

I went shopping with Christine, our Swedish language teacher, so she could help me differentiate between the various kinds of cheese, flour, spices, and so on. She said Swedish people tend to frown on eating too many sweets, especially when it comes to their children.

Now this is of course an admirable thing. In the U.S., there clearly is a major childhood obesity problem that Michelle Obama and others are trying to solve.
 
What’s interesting, though, is Swedes must really love gummy because there are aisles dedicated to many different kinds of this sweet in grocery stores and movie rental shops. Christine explains that kids can fill up bags with this once a week.

Russell’s co-worker Peter says he will get ice cream with his children, but only every Wednesday.

Now, it seems Swedish people are eating in the healthiest way I know: having good-for-you meals most of the week, but allowing yourself sweets in moderation. All the fad diets where you cut out everything sweet just don’t seem to work. We can certainly learn a valuable lesson from the Swedes.

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.