Snarl-City.

This is a post about snarling.

Today, walking home, the weather was amazing. The sun was out, and the mountains of Borås looked great. Spring is in the air. The snow is melting. Happiness is a few short rays of sun away. Naturally, there was a bit more skip in my step (read: I was actually walking without slouching.)

Now, you'd think being on the brink of Spring might bring out sunnier dispositions in the residents of Borås. No way, José.

People in Sweden are either shy, mean, or a bit of both. Not only do people not even awkwardly smile when they walk past you, they actually snarl. I frequently get snarled at simply for making eye contact with another human being.

It could be the lady I see every day at the bus stop, or someone else in the laundry room snarling. No friendly looks. No half-smiles. No acknowledgement that you are a human and not a robot. Snarls.

Another example happened today, as I was doing my laundry and stepped out for a moment to get some air. A person had been out on their balcony. The second they realized I was also outside, they retreated into their apartment, in a tiffy, almost angry at me for being in the same airspace.

This is something I will never forget and will not miss about Sweden. I'm not saying Canadians become best friends with everyone they see, but generally two joggers might extend a small smirk, or two solitary morning walkers will say a quick 'hey.'

Literally the second I arrived in Toronto, in an airport no less, strangers were conversing with me. Small talk. Acknowledgment. Life.

I will end by saying that there are the renegade Swedes. The few and far between who will come out of nowhere, shake your hand, and strike up a conversation. I am under the impression that they are the bane of the existence of other Swedes.

The phrase, ''Well, excuse ME for living'' often pops into my head after I get snarled at by grannies, teens, moms, and children alike.

Peace out Snarl-City.

Waffle Day /Baffle Day

Today was Waffle Day in Sweden.

Now, I know what you're thinking:' Any country that dedicates a day to waffles can't be half bad,' but, you're wrong.

Anyways, so we had waffles at school (only the teachers: so evil) and I was so excited that I did not use a plate, and spilled whip cream on my maternity pants three times.

No, I am not even remotely pregnant, I just mistook the stretchy band on my pants for the newest fashion statement of 2011 when trying them on. I didn't even know they were maternity pants till I showed off the new style to two colleagues, who laughed at my naiveté and complete lack of fashion knowledge. However, the benefits of maternity pants cannot be overstated, and needless to say, they came in handy on waffle day. I now own several maternity items.

So, Happy Waffle Day, Sweden. Thanks for making today significantly better than most.

Also, 11 weeks. 11 weeks.

Friday Night. . . Tacos?

Fredagsmys :

It’s about time I write about ‘fredagmys’ one of the weirdest traditions they have in Sweden, in my humble opinion.

Fredag is Friday. So there’s the first part. The second part, I’m told, translates roughly to ‘cosiness at home,’ but perhaps someone was messing with me.
So, ‘fredagsmys’ consists of staying in on a Friday night with family, cozying up in front of the t.v (I think watching Idol), eating treats, and eating the Swedish delicacy known the world over as: tacos. Yes, tacos.

Now, upon hearing this, I clearly laughed out loud, and then had a million questions. 'Why tacos?' 'Aren't tacos not even Swedish?' 'When did this begin?' 'Does everyone do this?' 'But seriously, why tacos?'

Not exactly a million questions, but I still find that no one has been able to answer the ever-so-pertinent question of : 'But seriously, why tacos?'

On Fridays when I ask my students, ‘How many of you are having tacos for dinner?’ at least half the class raises their hand. It’s no joke. It’s an ingrained tradition. I call it Friday Night Tacos, and because I love tacos, I often have my own Friday Night Tacos, however there is no cosiness involved.

There are even songs and commercials dedicated to ‘fredagsmys.’ Click the links to see for yourselves.


Commercial 1:
Commercial 2 :
And click hear to watch a very excited Swedish man explain Fredagsmys to you
In the above video, the excited man has at least 5 of these types of videos. He always goes up to people, and the videos culminate with them dancing with him. Pretty strange. He also always just switches between Swedish and English. I wish more people here were as fun as he is.




My next post will be about ‘lördagsgodis’ which means ‘Saturday Morning Treats/Goodies.’ Yes, you would think that I would find eternal happiness in a country that has TWO days dedicated to eating junk!

Last, but not least, the Super Moon last night was pretty incredible. My life revolves around the moon.
Twelve weeks of school left! (but who’s counting?)

P.S If any Swedes read this, please know that I'm not trying to insult/make fun of your country. I am providing observations for friends and family back home! :)

The name of this post is the Talking Heads

’’I wouldn’t live here if you paid me.’’ Oh Talking Heads, how did you know to write this song about my current life situation?

I think I will only bother to write here if I actually leave Borås-, otherwise it feels self-indulgent, and besides, there are only so many ways to say: ‘I can’t wait to be home.’

In two weeks I’ll be going up to Oslo. I’ve wanted to go to Norway since I got here, so that’s something, right?

The sun also seems to be following a sort of pathetic fallacy based on my mood. Hoorah. (sarcasm alert)

Happy March Break if you’re off in Canada.

Oh, and actually, the best thing to happen to me in a long time (yes, this speaks volumes) is that I received Humpty Dumpty BBQ chips in the mail, along with turtles, dinosours, chews, and other assortments of my favourite Canadian/North American candy. MMMM. Daniel, you’re a star.

I’ll be fine, I’m really starting to run a lot, and that’s so good for the soul, and obviously I'm popping corn like there's no tomorrow.

Homeward bound

Well, about three months left of the school year, then off to Eastern Europe for 3 ish weeks, and then home. Hej då Sverige. Hello life.

It's official, in every sense of the word.

In my last few months, I will try to be positive (TRY), eat as many goodies as I can, travel as much as I can, and try not to let the downers of Borås drag me too far down with their pushing and shoving, and general sour pussness.

Also, lamely, I will be in Sweden for Canada day. My plane leaves for Ottawa July 2nd.

I miss my records a little bit too much.

Summer of love, here I come. More importantly, Luskville and Paddle Tennis weekend, here I come. Friends and family here I come. Multiple food dates with my future wife: here I come.