mokudekiru

Never have I been so happy (or surprised!) for spring.

Sweden in the spring is magical. (Allegedly, summer is even better, but I won’t be able to report on that.)

In the last two to three weeks, the sun has come out, the trees have blossomed, the weather has warmed up to a balmy 20 degrees…and most importantly, everyone has gone into permanent spring picnic mode.

Every piece of grass or bench or seat outside in Stortorget is covered with PEOPLE. If it’s the weekend, they’re sitting in the park, drinking (see: Valborg, this Saturday), otherwise they’re just sitting outside. On big rocks, overlooking Stockholm, until 9 PM when it finally starts to think about getting dark.

It has become our full-time job to enjoy the weather.

Actually, I totally forgot spring was coming.

It’s not that the winter in Skåne was even that bad. Since January, it was consistently 0 degrees and grey — not that cold, by my standards. I never even used my heaviest jacket once. But when I arrived, everything was covered in grey ice, the sky was grey, the sun set at 4 PM, and it never even got totally light out.

I got so used to the consistently dreary weather (2.5 months straight of exactly the same weather?) that spring seemed like something that only happens in other countries, like SUVs, carpeting, and hip-hop.

But then it happened, almost overnight. All term, I’ve had Swedish class from 5-7:30 PM — it used to be dark long before I even walked to class. Suddenly, now it’s light for hours after I come home.

The whole country is in SUCH A GOOD MOOD.

And oh man, the grilling. It’s been going on for WEEKS. Grilling is big here. Like, constant 4th of July-mode level big.

(Actually, I think we jumped the gun on the grilling a little bit — it was an odd experience to stand around in the light at 8 PM, grilling a pineapple, in my winter coat.)

(Yes, you can grill pineapples.)

It’s no accident that Easter break is happening now, followed a week later by Valborg. After 9 months of winter, we have earned the right to enjoy the weather.

As my friend Polly says, “I now understand why ancient cultures worshipped the sun.”

The sun is here and it’s time to celebrate.

I think spring celebration is something I was missing out on in the US. I mean, we occasionally would sit on the quad, and I remember quite a few pleasant warm evenings eating pizza on apartment balconies, feet up. But Japan has hanami, Sweden has Valborg… I am missing the American equivalent here.

Then again, maybe it’s because Illinois has exactly 1.5 days of good weather before we go into hot&humid or tornado mode, or maybe it’s because spending more than an hour outside means my allergies will cause my immune system to self-destruct.

Point is, byebye seasonal affective disorder, hello a month straight of chilling outside. The music festival Popadelica wrote in a recent Facebook status, “Förresten, sa vi att vi bokat solen till Popadelica 2011 också? Det har vi.” (“Btw, did we mention we’ve booked the sun for Popadelica 2011? Well we did.”) NICE.

Only bummed that I’m leaving too soon for midsommar and the midnight sun…

Last Thursday, in order to celebrate a quarter-year spent in Sweden, the coming of spring, and my general aversion to having a lot of hair, I decided to go on a haircutting adventure.

I bought a couple hair magazines, looking for short, Swedish-looking styles, and the one that kept recurring was some variety of this Robyn look. Or this one. Sounds good, I thought.

No one I knew had any salon recommendations in Lund, so I sort of randomly chose Klipphuset downtown.

My hairdresser was a middle-aged woman who really didn’t speak English (everyone in Lund speaks perfect English…except for my hairdresser!) So, the number of ways I could describe what I wanted was rather limited. I could basically say:

- I want it very different
- I want it like these pictures
- I am sick of having lots of hair

She was very skeptical of my haircut desires. She kept being like “your hair is so thick, it will end up SO short and SO manly…”

She then tried to get me to pick a different hairstyle and I kind of sat there awkwardly for a while, not choosing one. She was like “Do you want to think about it and come back?” At which point I said something to the effect of “No. I want a haircut now, short is ok and manly is ok.” And then she sighed and said “Okay, well, we’ll try.”

Then, halfway through the haircut, she started getting really into it, and was all, “what if we do this side really short and leave this side long, it’ll be asymmetrical!” Oh, NOW you get into it?! Well, whatever, I think she succeeded.

And +1 language accomplishment — definitely one of the first times I felt like “Phew, good thing I’ve been vaguely learning Swedish for the past three months.”

Before:

After:
(apologies for inconsistency of mirror vs. non-mirror pics)

With straightening

Action shot with Jennifer!

And, when necessary:

In a particularly deep conversation last night with a Swede and a Canadian, we realized Swedish kitchens (especially in student korridors) have several things that are incredibly useful, but we don’t really have back in North America.

1. The knife magnet

So much easier than those stupid things you stick the knives in and then can’t see their relative size and/or if they’re serrated… magnets for knives appear to be more common here.

2. The cheese slicer

EVERY kitchen has not one, but MANY cheese slicers. Giant blocks of cheese? No problem, still make a convenient snack. No knives and cutting boards to mess around with. Swedish friend was astounded we don’t have these. HOW DO WE SLICE CHEESE!?? It’s a hard life in the US.

Apparently, cheese slicers are a Scandinavian invention.

3. The disco ball

Because festing is an important part of Swedish culture. Almost, but not quite, as important as IKEA. But you don’t have to choose, since Swedes get to fest right in their IKEA-decked-out kitchens.

This may be a good time to bring up the fact that there will, in fact, be a fest in MY korridor tonight. The very disco ball pictured above will be there. So should you. I’ll be there around 11 maybe, but you can text me. If you bring any cheese, you’ll be all set.