Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Self Reflection

The unexamined life is not worth living - Socrates 

Allow me to introduce myself - my name is Misha.  I am a walking contradiction.  My mind is usually in the past or better yet the future and it takes something significant to bring me back to the present.  I could describe to you my surprise when I figured out the smell my house had when I returned to it after longer than two weeks away wasn't just the universal scent of anyone's house welcoming them back.  If you have time I would like to trace the imprint the carpet would leave on my elbows when I leaned on the stairs to shout up to my mom asking if I could take a snack before dinner.  If you want I can teach you how to all but stop breathing when sneaking down some stairs at night to eavesdrop on your parents' conversations - and why mine used to call me Dumbo Ears.  Let me show you the list I have of things I want to accomplish before I'm 35 and the spelling of the name of the perfect dog I will introduce to my future family.  If you visited me at my colorful, bohemian townhouse on the west coast or maybe a modern, custom built home in the east (depending on which career path I wish to pursue - foreign affairs or writer/editor), you would be treated to fika consisting of fresh cake made from scratch and my current favorite concoction of herbal tea from the shop downtown that is owned by a dear friend of mine.  We would catch up after years apart and I would explain the indecision I harbor of whether to raise my kids with Japanese or Swedish.  Regardless, I would collect children's books in both languages just in case.  My kitchen would be my favorite part of the house, followed by the window-walled library that held a special shelf for the books or stories I published.

You should know I am suspicious of people whose resting face is always a smile, but that I am notoriously gullible.  I can tell you what paper tastes like because my brother convinced me it was cool to eat bits of my homework while bored in class.  What's worse is I got half the class doing it until our third grade teacher made us stop.  Let me practice my speech with you - the TED speech I aspire to share sometime during my life.  Perhaps you wonder why I hate dolphins so much and why I wash my hands so many times throughout seemingly random times of the day.  I have, combined, three fourths of a legitimate reason for both.  I can't whistle.  I can't sleep without applying my favorite Japanese lip balm and scented lotions for my hands.  I love to organize and I hate when people put their clothes, inside out, on the hanger.  I can't stand loud breathers or slurping noises from a mouth. 

I would like to tell you of my favorite childhood game to let my mind wander and trace each thought back to a source or an engine like the train cars I used to count during the long car rides to Colorado.  I can tell you the names of each of the crushes I've had since I was four, and tell you why most of them were only interesting for a month.  If you can keep a secret, I will reveal that my first love was my dad, and he's likely my last since I swore to myself that there was no better man on Earth and I would never marry anyone less.  I wish you could see my chubby face light up through our old home videos when he walked in the room.  For the record it was me, Dad, who broke the tail off the clay pig you made in college.  You can't imagine the guilt I felt when I snuck down to glue it back on with my white Elmer's glue.  Now you're asking why I wear a CTR ring on my left ring finger at all times - it's because I am married and promised to my best friend, Annie, who is tragically far from my embrace.  You wonder why I wear a purple and green bracelet on my right wrist, clipped higher up to keep it from falling off.  It's because those were my two favorite colors when I was in sixth grade and the boy I was in love with in middle school gave it to me.  Perhaps he will think to message me every once and a while when he reads this.

Now that we are acquainted, let me explain.  The pages in my journal are filled with memories and plans, musings and daydreams.  These cushion the spacings between the sporadic descriptions of my actual day to day life and the reason why I am almost finished filling up two journal books in five months.  The past few weeks have, in particular, been bulky when my mind was weighed down with questions.  I have, frankly, fallen into a self absorbed and tantalizing frame of mind where I try to figure myself out.  I want to know why I am the way I am, what defines me and particularly what my recent experiences have done to shape me.

Perhaps it all started with psychology class, learning about attachment theory.  I suddenly wanted to know what my parents did to raise two (in my opinion) great kids and how I would raise kids of my own one day.  My poor brain is weak to the enticing idea of wandering back through my childhood and planning my life in twenty years.  The result has been a plethora of events in my life - sensations, memories and quirks I've had.  As you can see I took you through the rabbit hole to random, cherished moments.  I have volumes worth where that came from, but does the way I organize my pencil box or my aversion to licorice tell me who I am?  It's the easiest way I know how; it is certainly easier than to examine every crucial moment of my infancy when my parents chose to let me cry or pick me up.  Writing is the only way I know how to figure out a problem without bringing in another party.  I was listening to a TED talk by my favorite spoken word poet, Sarah Kay, when she shared a tip - write what you know to be true.  I know my favorite number is seven and I love the smell of supermarket refrigerators.  I also know I have had a blessed life.  My family is stable and solid, my parents love me, I am not a war survivor or a victim of assault or crime.  I don't have a defining moment, a climax, in my life.  Am I looking on opposite sides of the spectrums of my life to find one?

Recently, it was suggested to me to look through a journal page or two from every month I have been in Sweden and notice ways I have changed.  I can't do that, see, because I am in an even more crucially metamorphic stage in my life than ever before.  I suppose that is the change; but all I know is I had barely a fraction of these existential emergencies two weeks ago.  I also want to know why, when I am currently on a year abroad for the purpose of a once in a lifetime experience to engulf myself in Swedish culture, is my mind anywhere but here during the hours I am left to my thoughts?  I joke around in Swedish with my friends by day, but put thoughts to paper by night.  I am on my way to becoming a daytime-functioning nocturnal.  I shared my concerns with members of my host family, to which they chuckled, "You are a funny girl, you are putting all this stress upon yourself."  I admit I am.

I will probably look back at this post and regret publishing it since it is not too relevant to my year abroad.  But then again perhaps it is.  This sort of self reflection certainly never happened in the States.  It's like all the sudden I realized the direction I wanted to take my life towards and I had concrete dreams and aspirations to strive for.  I would be so bold as to say that my year abroad and the sort of stretching my mind has had to do to make way for this whole new country is opening far enough to finally be able to accommodate the bulk of an existential crisis.  The fact that so much change in myself has occurred which is noticeable to me means I am probably the subject of a cosmic editing and revising assembly line notched into high speed.  The development in my character that has come about in the past several months takes the form of a new language, improved morals, more responsibility and self reliance, new friends and family, better (but bad) money management skills, and a new favorite city.  I must have read this all on a YFU pamphlet or something, because they have certainly delivered.

I think there is something about trying to teach your new family about yourself.  Your likes and dislikes, explanations for scars and funny sayings, favorite candy and least favorite activity.  On one hand you are trying to be a person they can live with for ten months, but on the other hand there isn't so much you can superficially hide or change when you will be living with them - for ten months.  You sort of meet yourself all over again. The self discoveries I have made while I am here have taught me things I will carry on with me throughout the rest of my life.  One who knows herself knows her strengths and weaknesses and how to make them better.  What could possibly stand in the way of all her hopes and dreams now?  My search for understanding has brought me to spoken word poetry, a new interest of mine, as well as (less recently) TED, and even to the comforting words of my batty ol' parents.  Turns out they know a thing or two.

Like usual, I want to express my gratitude for my year abroad.  I never knew I would learn so much about myself.  I remember thinking I would discover myself while I am here (before I knew exactly what that meant), but what I wan't expecting was that I have been here all this time - I have just never been aware of this much change.  So far I would tentatively say this change has been for the better.  I may pick up a few new quirks or a couple new pet peeves while I am here, but it's all the better to add to my collection.  At the end of the day, the person I am is the person I go to bed with.  I wouldn't mind if my companion is just a bit more refined every night.  I think I have started something great and I have made the first few leaps in the direction of self discovery.

Oh and before I forget,
It was a pleasure to make your acquaintance :)

Sunday, January 5, 2014

Norway the Great

There are certain instances when having a Norwegian host family is a distinct privilege. 


When I applied to come to Sweden, who knew I would be placed with a Norwegian family?  I never once worried I would miss out on an 'authentic' Swedish experience - the more cultures the merrier, right?  My host family could be called outside the norm, but conventional is mundane and I'm grateful to have them.  Coming from a multi-cultural family myself, I felt rather at home in a trilingual house.  I had a very poor idea of the differences between Norway and Sweden, especially in their languages, but I have learned more since then.  I am still learning to tell the difference between Swedish and Norwegian - when you are new you can't understand either so you can't recognize much variation.  There is a lot of Norwegian spoken at home, but also some Swedish since my host mom is Swedish and that's the language of choice.  When we went to Copenhagen, I could actually tell the difference between Danish, Norwegian & Swedish.  I met a man in the south of Sweden who asked me, "Hasn't your host family given you the two minute Swedish lesson yet?  Yeah, you just put two fingers in your mouth and speak English!  You put your whole fist in if you're trying to speak Danish."  I found that hilarious.  A Swede might tell you that Norwegian just sounds like happy Swedish - Norwegians are known for being rather happy people so their language is said to be impossible to speak when sad.

This Christmas, my host dad took me and my host brother to Trondheim, a city in the north of Norway where he is originally from.  I was so excited to be able to see this famed Norway I had heard about from conversations around the house.  I was also aware of how lucky I am to be able to see both Denmark and Norway - it really is a dream come true.  I am thankful the opportunity to be here everyday.  We left Christmas morning and drove through the whole day, arriving around 8:00 p.m.  It was tiring, but I had my new favorite blanket and slippers on and I slept off and on, much to the chagrin of Vegard, who finds it annoying that I can and will sleep just about anywhere.  It's true that cars and other moving vehicles are my weakness - in several instances it only takes a few minutes in a car or bus before I drift off.  Unfortunately it doesn't work on planes.  We've looked into the possibility of narcolepsy, but we don't want to diagnose quite yet :)

As we arrived we heard on the radio that this was the warmest recorded Christmas in Trondheim ever and we were not met with a winter wonderland as I had hoped.  It was barely colder than Gothenburg, despite it being north and despite it being Norway.  I loved to see the mountains pass by - I haven't seen mountains since I moved from New Mexico.  There were lots of bodies of water and mountains and trees and the air was crisp and fresh.  Norway is rather spread out and sparse in population.  It took a long drive to get to any gas station or restaurant on the way.  I wouldn't say the people I saw were less modern, but there was a sort of close-to-nature and isolated way about them.  I didn't get to see Oslo, so I can only speak for the people I saw further north.

We arrived at Lars' parents house.  They own a large amount of land with three houses on the lot - the one in which they still live, which Lars and his brother's grew up in, the one Lars used to live in that is now rented out, and a newer house he had originally built for himself and his family, but is now occupied by his brother's family.  Lars' father came out to greet us at the door followed by his mother, who quickly showed me my room for the next few days.  I was honored with a tour of their impeccably clean home and was content to see all the pictures on the walls of the family.  Lars' father shares a love for old pictures like his son so I was treated to a couple snapshots into their lives from decades before.  Of course that is always a good laugh.  After meeting both Lars and his parents, it is easy to see the similarities.  His mother didn't speak too much English, but we got along well with smiles and food.  She is a very sweet lady with fantastic taste, a warm smile and enviable culinary skills.  It was a bit different to be around a more modest grandmother - both of my own grandmothers are loud, boisterous ladies with long reaches and embarrassing stories on everyone.  Lars' father has a sense of humor I still don't understand, but he is charming and has that same adorable boyish interest in things like Lars does.  They were both especially hospitable and I appreciated the little things they did, such as serving us breakfast every morning and sending us off to our daily adventures.  They were so thoughtful and kind, especially in giving me a funny Norwegian souvenir to remember my visit.

As we sat in the living room conversing, the TV was on in the corner on mute.  Like Sweden, Norway does not dub the movies and shows that are originally in English.  I liked to read the Norwegian subtitles at the bottom of the screen and try to follow what is basically happening.  I can't even remember what was showing, just how hard I concentrated.  Written Norwegian and Danish is the same, but even after hearing both I had no idea the written language was not so different from the Swedish I was learning.  I would say I learned to read Swedish a little faster than speaking because I found it easier to understand.  After getting some clarification from Vegard, I wasn't doing too bad with following along.  By understanding the bare basics and the connections with Swedish, I actually was able to pick up a little Norwegian in my time there.  I could generally understand the subject of the conversation (and there was much of it) throughout the week.  I am pretty proud of this myself, especially since the dialect of Trondheim is far from the standard Oslo dialect.  Norway in olden days was split up a bit because of the difficult terrain, so various groups of people developed different dialects.  It's amazing to know how many separate accents there are in a country of barely 5 million.  Those from closer to the south have sounds similar to Danish, but the north, like Trondheim, is completely different.  The people closer to the Swedish border is a bit more compatible with that language.  It all depends on the geography.

We started our days very late every morning and left after breakfast.  I wanted to spend lots of time outside since everything was so beautiful and the weather wasn't bad.  We started out by going to a famous ski jump that often hosts championships and the like.  It's massive and impressive to see.  Jokingly my host dad dared me to go down the end part of the lift on the rugged ice.  I was this close to doing it before he instructed against it after falling several times in trying to get a spot to film my endeavor.  I was a bit disappointed so we took a smaller hill that was also crusted in dangerous ice.  We took some time exploring the woods around and tackling the treacherous ground for the last few hours of sunlight we had.  We drove to higher ground in the parking lot of a closed restaurant and got to see the gorgeous sunset over the mountains and tree tops.  There was a lake off in the distance that we passed and it glittered like a mirror.  Absolutely gorgeous.  Next was a walk around a bit of Trondheim.  It's an old and beautiful city that was not at all small regardless of it's fairly remote location.  There is a rich culture and style about the place.  It's placed in an interesting geographic location with water snaking around and through the city.  The water can be traced to a large fjord that is right next to the city.  There has a different essence about the streets that's special and quiet.  It's fantastic to have this place with shops and cobble streets when ten minutes ago we were climbing up a frosted mountain for no real reason.  I thought the city was nothing less than charming and noteworthy.

We later visited Vegard's grandparent's from his mom's side.  They were very different from Lars' parents and just as kind.  His grandmother is a lovely woman with a talent for leading conversation and knitting.  She gave me a pink knit scarf for Christmas and I was touched.  His grandfather is an impressive man with even more impressive hair and a talented musician.  They both enjoy talking about their grandchildren - a trend I am noticing among the elderly :) they had snacks and candy laid out on the table when we arrived.  We spent a while on the couch chatting.

The next day we had a little camp out and had fun walking some old trails Lars remembered from his childhood.  Vegard and I did some exploring before we roasted some hotdogs and enjoyed a small fire. Later that night we went to see the new Hunger Games movie with Even, my oldest host brother who has been working in Trondheim for the past several months.  I would say it was a fantastic movie, better than the first and true to the books.  We went to Vegard's uncle's house and socialized for a while with his family and grandparents.  Vegard's grandparent's were kind enough to drive me home while the boys stayed behind to play Settlers of Catan, a favorite of theirs.  Lucky I left, they stayed until late in the night.  When I arrived back at Lars' parent's house, I was ushered into the dining room where they had an annual Christmas party in play.  From what I can tell, Norwegian old people are MUCH happier and nicer than their Swedish counterparts...

The next day was dinner with grandparents followed by a party thrown by Vegard's grandfather's side of the family.  He and many of his family members are musicians, so they performed for a large hall filled with people from the family tree.  There was much food and sweets and a large Christmas tree in the middle.  A tradition is for everyone to hold hands and sing songs, walking around the tree in a circle.  There are a couple dancing corresponding steps.  It was a fun night.  On the drive home, we were invited again to Vegard's uncle's home for some more games of Settler's.  This time I was excited to play, but we called it quits after a couple rounds.

Sunday was the last day in Norway for us and we spent it at church and another family dinner.  The branch in Trondheim is very small, but there is a strong membership lead by Vegard's uncle.  Today was the Christmas special, if you will, so it was only an hour.  We drove straight to one of the last family members I had yet to meet - Lars' middle brother.  We arrived at his home and were greeted by his oldest daughter who was a few years younger than Vegard.  We were the last to arrive and I met all of Lars' nieces and nephews and brothers and sisters-in-law.  It was every bit as jolly as a Christmas gathering should be.  The dinner we were served was a fantastic creation by our hostess.  Halfway through the meal I was told the tender meat in my stew was moose.  It made me stop - moose are one of my favorite animals.  It crossed my mind that I didn't want to eat it, but I was reminded of the time when I came home from school after watching a video on animal cruelty.  I declared to my family as we sat down to dinner that I would be a vegetarian from now on.  Needless to say it lasted for a few sweet, glorious hours.  Who are we kidding, now I have a new reason moose is my favorite animal - it's delicious.  The party included a great musical number by two uncles and three cousins.  There were gift exchanges, dessert, photos, and we headed home.

This trip was filled with much family and fresh air.  I was so excited to be included in the family gatherings.  There exists a strong family dynamic in Trondheim that I had the privilege to experience.  Once upon a time when my own family hosted a Japanese exchange student, we got to bring him to Colorado with us to visit my dad's side.  He had the experience of a lifetime - Putnams are hardcore, let me tell you.  My father is the oldest of 13 kids, each married or previously married with at least 2 kids.  There were several families visiting my grandparent's house that year, they even brought in a Santa to meet the grandkids.  I remember the way my family was eager to meet and inevitably scare the new Putnam we had introduced.  I never understood how he must have felt until I was in much the same situation.  It is an extraordinary act of benevolence and decency to accept a stranger into your most sacred traditions and hours spent together.  You can't understand the way my heart fluttered when Vegard's aunt told me it was a pleasure to meet her new niece as she handed me a modest Christmas present.  I loved my time in Norway - if nothing else than for the incredible people I had the pleasure of sharing a few meals with.  Family is nothing less than sacred.  While I missed my crazy Putnams, I miss yet more every minute I got to spend with the two families in Trondheim.

The border between Norway and Sweden
It was hard to say goodbye to Lars' parents the next morning as we loaded up the car.  Especially his mother, who I had grown very fond of.  I looked forward to the drive home, oddly enough.  Lars was kind enough to take the scenic route home so I could see a bit more of the beauty of the country.  I loved it.  It must be a record - I was awake for a solid two hours before drifting off even a little!  Lars was a doll and stopped every once in a while to let me get out and photograph a mountain or a lake - both of which were everywhere.  I loved what I saw.  I didn't know I missed mountains so much.  You take it for granted after a while when your horizon is jagged and textured instead of monotonous.  We got in late, tired and sore.  However, ain't no rest for the wicked.  I got a day before we were up and at 'em to Bolliaden, the Swedish version of Youth Conference.  More to come!


Moose <3



Fika with the grandparents on arrival 


I still love ducks













Vegard pulled me around the slippery ice, it was fun :)


































So much sass









The daily breakfast 

To the right is Lars' youngest brother and his daughter



Dinner with the other side of the family


They're always wrestling... that's Vegard's uncle in the white



Kids table


Our hostess!  There's moose in her right hand

Grandma Landrö :)