Valborgs Day

Today is Valborg's Day, the last day of April. It's a particularly big deal in student towns in Sweden, of which Uppsala is one.

Traditionally, the day starts with a champagne breakfast, location non-specific. I had mine by the river, in anticipation of the rafting race, an event premiered by the engineering department in the 70's. Unfortunately, the crowd was large and the view was extremely limited so a large amount of the time I spent watching the crowd instead and debating whether the Germans behind us were serious about dumping us in the river to get a better viewing spot (they clearly didn't know we could see nothing too).

After the raft race, the students head to a large park and picnic for a few hours. More champagne is traditional.

At 3pm, the rector gives a speech from the library balcony. We went, listened to a song and watched white graduation caps being waved (including grannies who had graduated some years ago) and there was no speech. I wouldn't have understood it anyway...

The next excitement is the champagne gallop. Has a theme emerged yet? The students run to the nations, pay 100 Kr and party in the courtyards, spraying champagne everywhere. As expected, this leads to everyone being soaked and clothes being removed. It was 9 degrees Celsius. Unfortunately, the reason everyone runs is that there is a maximum capacity and there are far more students attending than are able to go.... so naturally we didn't go.

I say we, because I spent the day with some exchange students I met through one of my Swedish class friends.

Watching all the festivities, particularly with foreign exchange students, made me feel even more of an outsider than I've felt here before.

I do not belong.

How much can we belong anywhere though? I did not belong in Manchester, or Derby, or Stockport or London.

Belonging or not though, I'm not going to sit here and feel sorry for myself.

There is a choir performance at the castle tonight and some of the people I was with today are going to listen. I popped down to the shop to get some sweets to share tonight and on the way out bumped into 2 of my neighbours here - 2 tall, cute Swedish guys. Yummy. Apart from a "hey!" we didn't actually speak, even during the elevator ride down to the front door.

Ah Swedes, how I loathe your lack of chit chat. I also loathe my own lack of it, but that's beside the point.

My champagne is still un-popped.

Birthday drinks?

A good day today

It's a pleasant change.

Elena from my Swedish class suggested since there is no language class tomorrow that a few of us go out for dinner instead, which is good. There was a little panic when it looked like I'd need to shell out 200Kr just to get a guest pass for the student nations (maybe I'll explain that one day), but a few emails back and forth and the concencus is that if I take my PhD contract to a nation tomorrow evening I can become a full member right there and then.

In a better mood, I got on with some reading, found a few courses to look at in more detail, then cycled home. Unfortunately my bike has decided it likes 2nd gear a little too much, and has been stuck in it for the journey home.

When I got home I popped on a new exercise DVD (which is the lamest thing a girl can do and make public) and watched in horror as I failed pretty much every coordination activity on there. Oops. Anyway, 40 minutes (ish) of farting around pretending to dance in Brazil was amusing and deserving of far more than a wholewheat pasta and tomato dinner (no cheese) with a natural yoghurt and jam desert. Followed by this lovely glass of wine.

So the funny little Brazilian man on the DVD (so gay he's almost bent back round straight again) sounds a little like Borat. Hearing him promise me I'll have the body of a Brazilian beach babe in that voice is somewhat amusing, as I doubt he'd know a beach babe if he tripped over one.

My legs feel a little sore, but that's possibly a good thing since my thighs and arse are my (biggest) problem areas.

Next on the list tonight: Swedish grammar.

It's funny how when I'm more cheerful I get on a small self improvement drive. It only lasts for a few minutes, but that's a few minutes of improving myself, right?

Funny sort of day

Two posts in one day... is this a record for me?

After my post this morning I went to shower, checked my post and happened to notice my bike wasn't where I had left it. I walked around the garage in my dressing gown looking for it - no sign.

Hmm.

So after my shower I went walkabout looking for it.

I found it.

Chained to someone else's bike, outside, Odd. So I wrote a note requesting that they unlocked it, and chained it to the fence. By 8pm it was free, so I took it back into the cellar - then realised they had stolen my basket.

Bastards.

Anyway, following a thoroughly miserable day alone in the flat (would have gone into town but my face is sun allergied at the moment) I broke open the bottle of white mum bought me.

Tastes good.

With my chocolate easter egg and Sammy online things are looking up.

I'm wondering though, why when we are alone or stressed we think of people we loved. I'm not thinking of my last boyfriend, nor the one I was with the longest. I'm thinking of that all-important first one who I can only assume is not interested in talking to me. I keep wondering what would happen if I told him I still loved him... although I clearly don't, it's just a chemical need to feel close to someone and he was the only one I've felt amazing with.

I wonder what brilliant things we would get up to in this city, how we would laugh at problems rather than sit alone and wonder why I bothered coming out. He would dispel my thoughts of self doubt, encourage any ideas of adventure and push me.

Then I think that although it would be lovely to be with someone with his energy, intellect and honesty, I'm here on my own. I got here on my own. I made the decision to come here alone.

Okay, so I'm not living the high life or surrounded by friends, but hey, it's going to get there.

Sometimes though, I want someone just like him.

All alone again

So my parents came, saw, went across to the summer house, then left. I feel down, alone and frankly like giving up.

I know it will pass, this time next year I'll be happily sipping coffee on a balcony somewhere enjoying the spring sunshine from behind my factor 50+, sun hat and shades.

Today though, I feel empty. I feel like I can't go outside and walk past those happy people sat on the lawn outside my apartment block.

Potentially there is an apartment to rent which I can view this week. I'm still looking for apartments or houses to buy... but the list of barriers is just getting longer and harder to justify overcoming. I'm even considering a houseboat on the river, but suspect that that option comes with an even longer list of prohibitives.

I made use of the car with my parents and went to visit Peter and Ulla, then managed to squeeze in a trip to IKEA to get a duvet set and towels for any potential guests here. Unfortunately, neither of my potential English guests have been in touch for the last two weeks, prompting a whole range of negative thoughts and possibilities.

Living here alone though is teaching me an important lesson in life. Quite a few actually. One, set your alarm clock because no-one else is getting you out of bed.

In all seriousness though, I'm beginning to understand that you have to separate the logical, true thoughts from the self doubting, negative thoughts by yourself. You have to view yourself through an internal mirror, not the external one your friends provide. Finally, if you feel crap, you have to pull yourself out. Nobody is going to rescue you, so you become your own knight in shining armour. The best thing about this is that gradually, the knight gets stronger and braver. She might have her off days, but she's growing and changing and developing.

Of course, you then have to remember that distinguishing an entirely separate person within yourself is the beginning of insanity.

So at 2pm, I'm going to have a shower in the basement, scrub the sleep from my eyes and get on with my day.

6 weeks in...

For those not following my life outside of the blog, I had been deliberately keeping quiet about the career prospects away from designing play equipment.

In November 2010 I had an interview in Sweden for a PhD position, and at the end of February this year I packed my life into a huge wheeled holdall and moved abroad.

It's a big change, not least the language (of which I knew little), the culture, the weather, the isolation.... I enjoy my job. I get paid to prod at engineers and their projects. I get money to better myself, learn new skills and experience something completely different. I am employed to get so excited about the strangest things.

There is a lot to talk about, but the most important thing I think is to explain why I think this may be simultaneously the best thing that has ever happened to me and also the biggest mistake of my life.

By the end of this 5 year period, if I'm successful, I'll be awarded a PhD. I'll have lecturing and course design experience. I'll have experience of supervising Masters students. I'll speak another language. I'll have grown as a human being, opened my mind to new ideas and ways to communicate them. I'll have observed and reported on some truly spectacular events.

I'll be employable.

But to do that, I've had to leave behind everyone that I know and be somewhere alone. Sure, we have technology and flights aren't too expensive, but that doesn't help ward off the feeling that I'm voluntarily throwing away something really special in the hopes of becoming something better. Isn't that a little selfish? All we really are as human beings is a piece in a complicated structure of relationships in all their variety. The most important are those with our family and close friends, because they are the ones that will remain in our hearts for as long as we have the capacity.

I have a wonderful loving family, and two amazing friends who have been by my side through some great times and some pretty awful times. To leave them behind feels like I am cutting off my arms.

The stupid thing is that I know it's only 5 years. I know that even if it was 10 or 20 years those relationships would stand the test, would be just as rich as they are now. Those people would be disappointed if I chose to stay in a humdrum job in my home city just because I was clinging to those relationships, hell I'd be one of the first to help a friend pack her bags if she was choosing that over a life changing experience. I also know that if I stayed, they would not necessarily have made the same decision when their time came - currently one is about to move 200 miles North for a PhD, so I know what her decision would be.

Maybe though, like now, it feels like the most stupid decision I have ever made.