Sweden – 14 March 2012
These first days have been filled with errands, paperwork and shopping for necessities that we already own, but are at sea (I hope) somewhere on the Atlantic. We’ve been lucky with the weather, seven sunny days so far . . . and cold of course. It’s twelve below this morning, but a dry cold, not too bad.
We drove to Vasteras yesterday, a city two hour’s drive from Borlange where we live. I applied for permanent residency along with a crowded room of others from a dozen different countries. I was the only American. It was much like going to the SSI office in the States, except the time it took was not so long. I was number fifty three on the waiting list, but it took less than an hour for fingerprints and ID photograph . . . Swedish efficiency.
It feels so strange to be an immigrant, a stranger in a strange land. A trip to the grocery store can be mind boggling . . . to not know where things are. To not know what things are. Nothing is easy even though most natives here speak English. I feel guilty for my impatience with others in my situation Stateside – grocery stores, post offices . . . newcomers trying to explain what they wanted. Why don’t you learn the frigging language? I would say to myself.
Yeah right. Seems like the average word here uses thirty letters. What was it Salieri said when criticizing Mozart’s music in the movie . . . Too many letters notes! Too many letters here. Why do they need so many letters? I suppose I’ll learn . . . I’d better.