Sverige

I have had my wisdom teeth removed, my visa arrived, I have a travel itinerary, and with the help of my mother, who claims she is an expert packer, I have started putting clothes in a suitcase.  Every day it dawns on me that I am one day closer to leaving. This has resulted in some pretty strange moods. Mostly I am excited and nervous. I have exactly ten days until I leave for Sweden.  I have been busy trying to see friends, family, and finish my remaining one and a half Swedish lessons. 

The more I study Swedish the more I love it. I have a very basic understanding of the grammar and can read and write some small paragraphs. My course through the University of Minnesota requires that I make recordings of passages after I listen to them on CD. This is helping me begin to learn the proper pronunciation. Swedish has a few different sounds than English, and also requires that I tighten my mouth differently, using muscles that I never use when speaking English. My textbook mentioned that speaking Swedish requires more energy than speaking English, and I agree. I have also noticed that Swedish is spoken in an almost poetic and lilting fashion. I am sure when I arrive in Sweden, I will not understand much of anything, but at least I have a small foundation to build off of.  

I am beginning to feel more confident that Sweden was a good fit for me. I am sure I would feel this way about any country Rotary had assigned me to. Yet, there is something that draws me to Sweden and Scandinavia in general. I can’t really say what. As I live in Sweden, I hope to figure this out.  Last November when I was ranking countries that I wanted to go to, I put Sweden as my first choice. I don’t know why I chose Sweden. I was limited somewhat by my older age, but even if I hadn’t been, my list would have been the same.

I know that living away from home and experiencing a new culture will be more rewarding, difficult, exciting, terrifying, and wonderful that I can imagine. I am now beginning to feel ready.

I will miss many things when I am gone. I won’t see my sister Rachel until I return next summer. She left for Germany in May, and returns the day after I leave. I will also miss my parents, particularly their strange dinner conversations, which usually revolve around my father’s obsessions, including history, ancestors, and currently, railroads. I will also miss seeing my dad become distraught week after week, when the grocery store doesn't stock the Blue Bunny Premium All Natural Vanilla ice cream, and he is too cheap to buy Häagen-Dazs.