So, it occurred to me yesterday that some of you may not know that I have moved in Gothenburg to a new apartment. I can't believe that I didn't make a blog out of this sooner; it was only when I met up with Elin for coffee and realized how much mail was still coming to the flat that I thought--"oh my gosh, I didn't tell anybody yet!"
Early in November, Elin told me that her cousin was coming to Göteborg, which meant I needed a new place to stay by January 15. This was both expected and totally fine with me; Elin had not only provided me a place to stay with little knowledge of who I was, but also introduced me to much of Swedish culture in the most compassionate and inclusive way possible. Mainly, I was just sad to not see her and her sweet, sweet boyfriend Fredrick on a daily basis...
After a stressful two weeks responding to ads on the the Swedish version of Craigslist (contrary to the U.S. custom where apartment complexes market to you, here you have to market
yourself for a flat), I finally found a place to live that was pretty close to perfect. Now, instead of living on "Vegan Street," I have moved to "Blow-Out Street" with a new roommate, Annika.
I responded to Annika's ad for a roommate after 8 minutes she posted it. I think that, and the fact that we are both incredibly nerdy and outgoing, was what got me the spot in her beautiful home (apparently, I beat out 55 people). The flat, which she owns, is a bright and spacious two-bedroom apartment with hardwood floors, a balcony, a cute little dishwasher, and close-access to trams. It was only two-to-three tram stops away from where I already lived, so instead of being right in the heart of Gothenburg's hipster scene at Linne, I would be moving a short distance away into Majorna---an equally cool but quieter area closer to the bridge.
In a couple ways, the switch reminds me of going from Capital Hill to Ballard.
Linnegatan and the surrounding streets are ripe with hipster haunts of my various liking: small bars and cafes, vintage clothing stores and design offices, kebab restaurants and independent theaters. The streets are lined with tall, grand, rather-academic buildings at least five stories high, with yellow and beige walls and ornately-decorated terraces. Majorna, in contrast, and the areas around
Steigsbergstorget and
Allmänsgatan are fit with two-three story yellow houses from the 1920s, arranged in squares that create little garden courtyards on the inside of the city blocks, away from prying eyes. This area has a history rooted in Gothenburg's busier days as an active port city; it's a neighborhood that's been home to the working class, and is now undergoing more urban development---having built additional apartments in the 1970s (where I live) and planning additional condo-style residences in the future. The neighborhood's got its own cafes and bars, but far fewer of them, and if you go, the vibe is usually way more chill than the go-and-get-'em feel of the Lång-streets on a Friday night.
That said, though, Majorna is not to be fooled with. This is where I'm told is home to Gothenburg's famous underground scene; techno clubs, alternative concerts and other bars can be found here in sometimes the oddest of places. I have yet to really see this for myself, but Annika has assured me that there will be opportunities, and I believe her, having heard some of her stories...
As for my new roommate, Annika is a chronically-awesome 26-year-old Swede, fluent in English and German, who studies pharmacology here in Gothenburg. Apart from us cracking science jokes, complaining about organic chemistry, and groaning at the cadaver-anatomy pictures in her school books, we cook vegetarian food, sip wine, and dart around secondhand sales. Annika's role for me is not too far from Elin's; in many ways, I still depend on her for explaining confusing aspects of Swedish culture--which, to my utter delight, is always a highly entertaining process due to her hilarious perspective on Swedish people in general. But the things I find myself asking advice for now have happily advanced to newer levels than "what does that say?" and "how do you mail a postcard?" to things a bit more acquainted with regular Swedish life, like "where's that bar you mentioned?" and "which cafe do you think is cheaper...?" Still, though, I think her grandma calls me her "American pet," and judging from the piles of stuff I leave places, empty bowls, and general noises that come from me living here, I daresay it's probably still true in many ways...
I'll end the blog here for now. More to come later: I've realized that 2011 really did bring a transition with my Swedish experience that is really quite different in way, shape, and form from days in the fall...
