Hello money! I missed you.

Finally, I have scored a bank account. Not at SEB (nope, they lost my business three queues ago), but with Swedbank, which actually has far better benefits for students. Now I have free internet banking, a free debit card, and a free personal account as a student at Göteborgs Universitet.

I am realizing today just how useful this personnummer thing is. Swedes apparently use their social security number far more than Americans use theirs. Aside from bank accounts and hospital uses, the personnummer is used as a pin code for a variety of things, such as library cards, university logins, document validation, internet banking---you name it. It's a funny juxtaposition to go from a country where you safeguarded a number that gave you limited benefits, to a place where it is used all the time, practically as common as a driver's license number, and it gets you everything.

Actually, I learned something else lately. Yesterday, I went to one of the first welcoming parties for those in my masters program and met some of my hilarious and very interesting classmates. For about three hours, we stood around with weak European beers and laughed about all the things were were getting used to, all the commonalities between our languages, and all the things were were going to miss about home. It felt good to meet them; for so long, we had been mainly communicating on Facebook---laughing in person is far better than laughing digitally...

Anyway---it was talking with them that I realized just how lucky I was with finding accommodation.

Getting student housing in Sweden is a ridiculous undertaking. I don't remember whether I posted about this earlier, but it's notoriously difficult to find a place to live in the city. Apparently, the waiting list to own an apartment in somewhere like Stockholm or Göteborg is something on the order of five to ten years. For much of your time in these cities, you have to live off of shady subletting agreements while your name slowly moves up the list, and eventually, you will secure yourself a nice home if you're patient.

That said, there's, like, no way you can find a place in Göteborg that could fit all your requirements. There are simply not enough buildings, too many people, and not as much choice. Which brings me to my incredible luck; my bright, spacious, decently-priced apartment is five minutes away from class, and in one of the coolest places in town. In contrast, half of my classmates either live way outside the city, have to commute on the bus for 30 minutes, or have not found homes at all...

I bet you're wondering, while hearing all of this, why the school isn't helping? You'd think there'd be student accommodations for international visitors, wouldn't you? Well evidentially, that same beautiful law that lets you hike and camp anywhere on Swedish land is the same law that prevents universities from owning land to build residence halls on. The Swedish government owns all the land. No private plots. So all student housing that is available is actually regulated and distributed to tenants by the government. And once it's up, there's no more.

Makes you appreciate a roof and warm bed, right?

Sounds like Hallelujah for the first time...

So I took a walk today, to get my bearings on the city. Pictures of where I was and what I saw can be found on my account on Facebook.

On my way home, though, I ducked inside of Hemsöp to pick up some cheese, apples, and bread. I was not outside more than two minutes with the sun on my face when the clouds opened and it poured. I mean, it seemed as if the clouds wanted to punch in holes in the pavement. So much rain it was dripping off my earrings. So much rain that it melted away my paper bag and my apples rolled on the sidewalk.

I have not been caught in a rainstorm like that in years. And as a kind boy offered me his coat to stand under, I ripped out my headphones, halting The Head and the Heart serenade I was getting all afternoon, and stared up at the sky.

And you know what? I couldn't stop smiling. 


It doesn't matter that I don't have a bank account. It doesn't matter that I can't read the signs for "exit" or "line begins here". It doesn't matter that I can't call home or that I don't have any friends yet.

This morning, I received my personnummer in the mail. A whole year ago, an idea was planted in my mind that I could go to school in Scandinavia--and after nine months of waiting, and four months of work, today I am officially, a Swedish resident.

You can imagine, I danced nearly the entire way home.

$$$$$@%&s^*grrr-ack!! :)

Ack. It has been five days now, and I still cannot open a bank account.

Between not having a social security number (which almost everyone simply drop their mouths at) and not having a legitimate residence contract (aka, a lease), the prospect of me actually getting a SEB debit card and being able to pay my racking bills is getting harder and harder to grasp. I think it’s time to look for another Swedish bank…

I mean, don’t get me wrong. I am not in a bad situation. I can get access to my money. But only in controlled increments every 24 hours. And you’d be surprised how much cash you go through when you have to buy food, pay a housing deposit, and all the extra little things you need—especially when you brought practically nothing.

In response to this, I find myself eating a lot more peanut butter toast to quell my unease. The key to getting things done here, I have decided, is to remain focused. But still, I wonder how long my peanut butter will last…

You see, it’s funny: it is not the bigger picture that reminds me that I’m not at home—it is by far, the smaller things. Like not being able to read signs, or not knowing how to open doors, or knowing how to do laundry. It’s my American quarters co-inhabiting with Swedish kronars, and not knowing my own cell phone number anymore. Or the hour long timeslot I need to just buy a dozen food items at Hemsöp.

Either way, I find myself just taking several moments during the day to just breathe. Using my iTouch helps a lot. Whenever I don’t want to deal with the white noise of a foreign place, the music tunes it all out so that it becomes manageable—it’s just another city. These last couple days I’ve used this tactic to keep myself in selective isolation so I just continue to move forward.

I’ll admit, it’s strange to be in my head so much, but—like I’ve told Elin—I’ve been waiting for this luxury for months. No more lists. No more rushing. Now, I wake up early and Internet. I get dressed slowly. I eat small meals and walk aimlessly around this city for hours, assessing my surroundings and maintaining a quiet curiosity.

So, hear’s to the day I get my bank account. It’ll be an accomplishment indeed. But until then, I’ll just make some more toast and draw another Swedish church.

GOTHENBURG! GÖTEBORG! AHH! :)

Finally, I have arrived! Well, technically, I arrived on the 25th, but whatever. 

Göteborg is everything I thought it would be—an old European port, still colored with the characteristic yellow, beige, and red of old Swedish facades, but tinged with the worldly feel of a city built off of the stories and industries of a seafaring populace. Things feel far less diplomatic here than in Stockholm, where so much is influenced by the life and breath of the Swedish government—rather, Göteborg takes on a different attitude, perhaps  something on the degree of a brazen younger sister. Whether it is the open space, the sprawling tree-lined promenades, the red-brick secondhand shops of Linnè, or the web of canals that wind through the city—there is simply something about Göteborg that just feels freer. She begs you explore, and she judges neither your path nor your opinion.

My apartment is in the heart of Linnè—a funny, eclectic neighborhood that between the major ship canal, a massive park, and the old neighborhood of Haga. Not only is my new home filled with cafes, ethnic restaurants, vintage stores, and an old movie theater, apparently class is only a 5 minute walk away. Again, my head shakes at the sheer luck…

My roommate is an incredibly sweet, incredibly cool Swedish girl who will also be attending Göteborgs Universitet. Besides having several common habits and philosophies, we have promised to become each other’s language tutors: already, she has taught me so much Swedish…I just have to remember the words. 

So far, I've been just exploring the small neighborhoods around me. In the next couple days, I'll venture further. I still have to find a bank, I have to find where class will be, and I have to find Universeum. So, I guess in pursuit of that, I'll go to bed.

Wow. Should have kept my white Puegeot mixtie...

After a wonderful and enlightening visit in Stockholm, I am now on the train to Göteborg. It was blustery in the city earlier this morning, but now, the clouds seem to be clearing, bathing the Swedish countryside in sweeping white sunlight. Except for the occasional road, all you see between two of Sweden’s biggest cities is patchwork farmland—small squares of undeveloped fields and red cottages, threaded with thin brown fences and white birches. Yellow hay bales and horses, gray streams and tall grasses.

My last few days have been good so far. No major culture shock yet, though my scientific eye hasn’t been able to resist noting what is different and what is not. In many ways, things here are the same—the cars largely the same, but smaller; lots of plants are the same as Massachusetts and Washington State, but smaller (birds are different though); American brands litter the grocery stores, but there is far more Swedish; TV stations show the same shows (less commercials, though); music reeks of the same American-name brands (fortunately and unfortunately).

I mean, to put it lamely, it is purely the culture, the general habits of Swedes, that is different. Using the Swedish kronar. The efficiency of public transit. The plentiful offering of coffee (both espresso and instant). Biking your toddlers to school. Paying bills without checks. More push-up bras. Hard cheese for breakfast. Gelato spoons for everything. Cruisers instead of fixed gears. Far more vowel stress. And, obviously, the scenery.

I think if I had not been to Sweden before, all of these things would be terrifying. But now, it feels more like a personal challenge to see how much I can assimilate. Evidentially, I’ll have to get better clothes, and yes, learn far more Swedish, but things feel friendly. Very optimistic. I like these old streets of Gamla Stan, the hidden corridors, the old lamps and iron shutters. I like how the subway is just as efficient as having a car, I like biking sitting up, and I like the bustle of train stations. But most of all, I like knowing that this foreign place is in my blood—and I can feel it.

Anyway, yesterday I had my first experience with the Swedish social system. After going to the Swedish bank, SEB, to set up an account, I was told that I would have far more fees associated with my account as a foreign student if I did not have a personnummer, or a Swedish social security number. So, I immediately set out to the tax office in Stockholm. Upon arriving, I was confronted by at least 200 people in a shallow-ceilinged room, all waiting to talk to representatives. I took a number (which, evidentially, is a common tool for many things in Sweden), and proceeded to wait with the other immigrants in the room—for three hours. Thank god the guard at the door let people with tickets come in and out while we waited, but man, it was a test of patience, of which most small children failed (there was a lot of crying there; once again, iTouch, you save me from insanity).

As she was signing my form, the lady at the desk told me that I would receive my number in the mail at the address I listed in about four weeks. Then, I would be able to apply it to a bank account and get some fees waived, and I could also apply for a ID card, which would put my passport away in a safe drawer for my later social outings. And of course, the number would assist me in all other social security benefits that I may need, including legalities involving work. So, all in all, time put to good use.

Unfortunately, I also learned that day that (1) to have a debit card costs money, even as a student, and (2) the most kronar Bank of America will allow me to take out at a time from a bank is 2000SEK, about 250USD. That was very lame to hear, considering that setting up my bank account might take more effort than I thought, and I’ve got to get rent out. We’ll have to see on that one; once I get to Göteborg, I’m planning to get to the bank again. 

Ah, what timing. The train is pulling in.

Longer post to follow soon...

A lot of people have been asking if I'm homesick yet. I suppose, yes, there are times when I feel particularly sore about being so displaced...but then I watch this:


Stomacher - Untitled/Dark Divider from Sean Stiegemeier on Vimeo.

Credit to Sean Stiegemeier, a videographer I'd kill to feature in an art/science museum.

Says Elin: "Nina, can vi mak yello?"

My goodness, what a trek. But, I made it! I am now in Sweden (applause!).

Aerial Sweden!

My flights over were uneventful, though I did not get a wink of sleep. I have to say, I am a major fan of individual TV screens for international flights, but the prices for food was astronomical. Ah, whatever. I am here, my bags arrived untouched, and my brief touchdown in Iceland's eerie landscape left me intrigued to perhaps return later to explore...

It has only been twenty-four hours that I've been in Stockholm, and already I can feel myself learning fast. My distant cousins (second, third?) have two kids who, though they know some English, are tentative about practicing a new language, so I am being forced to learn Swedish immediately. Thankfully, with Swedish being another Germanic language, the sentence structure is very similar and intermediate words and sounds such as "okay," "good," and "thank you" are easy to pick up on. It is the other things, such as "Pass the potatoes," "I have presents for you," and "Do you take a foreign debit card?" that mark me as a newcomer.

Today, after much needed sleep and an "American breakfast" of pancakes with chocolate chips from Magnus' last trip to the States, we went to the mall to get me a cell phone. I had figured out a while ago that getting the iPhone 4 would be much cheaper in Sweden than in the USA: if you get a two year plan here, the newest phones come free. But, turns out, there was more good news: instead of charging someone a flat fee for the data plan and then extra fees for extra packages (such as $70 data plan + $20 unlimited texting), the extra fees come out of your flat fee, which just alters how many minutes you pay for. So, for instance, if $70 gets me 3000 minutes, and I wanted to pay $20 for unlimited texting, then that would bring my allowance for minutes down to $50--which is so much better (texting is far more important).

But, unfortunately, with good news came some I didn't know: apparently, not only do you need a Swedish personnummer (social security) and credit history, but you need to have lived in Sweden for at least 6 months. And then, it'll take 4-6 weeks to get one. Lame. I think Magnus and I are going to work out an agreement so I can get it sooner...

After that, we came home. I got a lesson in banking without checks (they are old-fashioned anyway), Katarina made meatballs for dinner (not Swedish, another recipe), and I made strawberry Jello with Axel and Elin with some boxes I crammed in my suitcase at the last minute. I have a feeling they'll be a hit.

Tomorrow: sailing in the Swedish archipelago. Monday: a trip to the city and SEB (bank). Then Tuesday, I will hop a train for my first visit to Gothenburg. :-)

Ready. Set. Go!

I am on my way. The first leg of my travels to Sweden has begun, as of two days ago, when me, my two bags, and my childhood stuffy boarded a plane to Boston at high noon. Tired and a bit nostalgic, I watched the ground below disappear and my life in Seattle at last fall behind me.

In a sense, it's a relief to have all the things I have planned for in the last three months finally wrapped up. But in reality, these last two weeks have been wildly bittersweet.

For the entire month of July, I have been spoiled by my friends and family with a plethora of bon voyage functions, beers, and an all-around celebratory status I simply cannot believe. The party my fellow scientists threw me on my last day was so epic, it continued for two straight weeks. My friends, both new and old, continuously flattered me by offering up their couches, food, totems, and good energy up until the hour before I departed. And my family---my family was just so supportive, a rock in an emotional ocean of drinking and last-minute travel errands, that even now, I am simply lost for words.

And Saturday, my last day, was one of the best nights of all.

It's an incredible privilege to feel all the love you've acquired over a long period of time in the course of a few days. For this, I thank just about everything in this universe. I just wanted you to know that here, at this very moment, poised on the brink of a grand adventure, I am quite clearly the sum of all of you.

From now on, I'll be posting more often on the blog my experiences as a Seattlite in Sweden. I'll have far more pictures, I imagine, and more videos, and certainly far more interesting things to share than my previous posts.

But for now, I'm going to go spend some time with baby cousins, east coast beaches, and a Sam Adams before departing my birthplace for the homeland. :-)