Hay Hay

HOLY shitballs I äm in Sweden! I have been walking around just smiling at the most INSANE things Ive seen in the last five months. Streets so clean that cigarette butts stand out every other block. Gorgeous hipsters that must have come out of the woom in bomber jackets and skinny jeans. Clear cool blue water with no garbage (or bodies) in it. Everything runs so freaking smoothly here. I got off the plane, walked outside, hopped on an express bus to downtown Stockholm, where I got the metro a few blocks from my hostel. Which is in the middle of a freaking gorgeous Sound of Music looking park where men (MEN!) push trolleys filled with babies, and gorgeous women in flowing dresses ride bicycles past. The first day I was here I went to the grocery store and bought strawberries, a loaf of bread, museli, soy milk, vegan cheese!, spinach and olive oil and have been making picnics and traipsing about leisurely. The bed I sleep in is so comfortable that I can sleep for ten hours every night. Although, midsummer is two days away and so the sun doesnt go down until like 1am and then only a little darker blue and then it starts getting light again. Its so surreal. The land of eternal sunshine these days. So when I arrived the plan was of course to stay awake until the sun went down, you know, to avoid jet lag and get assimilated? kinda tricky to do if the sun never goes down, and finally at like 10pm when outside it looked like eh, 3 in the afternoon I finally called it quits and crashed.
My hostel is like something out of Hansel and Gretel, white trimmed orange buildings and cute older European couples holding hands and walking around the beautiful gardens and having beers out front. Two lovely german girls share the room with me and Im meeting one tonight to go to Ice Bar. Which is exactly what it sounds like. A bar made of ice, and with the entrance fee you äre given a parka and one free beverage. And you better for like 20 bucks. Also, another thing- It is SHOCKING to see public displays of affection. After not even seeing members of the opposite sex holding hands, public make-outs at the metro tunnel suddenly seem so odd and scandalous. But I love it. I love all the pimped out rockstar babes walking around with bleach blonde hair and leather. I love all the tall business men in suits carrying laptops and chatting feverishly on their cell phones.
Yesterday I stopped for some Black Licorice Ice Cream. Which is totally delicious by the way. Yes Dad- be jealous. And sat down and watched this motley crew of dudes stand around and play chess on a massive scale- somewhere in between regular and harry potter style.
It is taking a little getting used to being- or rather looking so much like everyone here. I blend so well that everyone assumes I'm Swedish and I sheepishly have to say, uh, I don't speak Swedish when approached by pamphleters and when buying coffee, etc. And of course walking around yesterday a french couple asks me for directions. And the funny thing about this is, I was actually lost at the moment, looking for the thrift store, but eh, they didn't have to know that.
I went to H&M in the land where it was founded and bought a new complete line of underwear. It was luxury and decadence like I havent allowed myself in so long. And let me tell you, Sweden is proud of their H&M. In downtown Stockholm there must be like thirty stores. I had to use every bone in my body to not go balls out crazy with the shopping. And luckily I resisited cause later that day I was walking around Zinkensdaam, where my hostel is and stumbled upon a second hand shop. Um. Hello heaven. And it seems that another thing that the Swedes have in common with me, other than pasty skin, is short legs and a big ass. Because I tried on five pairs of jeans at this thrift store and every single pair fit like a glove. So I bought two pairs. And a hillarious shirt with an anchor on it. And a belt. All for half of what it would've cost for one pair of jeans at H&M. The ironic thing is that one of the pairs of jeans is originally from there. Oh how I love the thrift.
Stockholm is also an artist's wildest dream. Good design is everywhere and it is valued as an important part of life. Everything from the garbage cans to the metro station to the museums are beautiful, creative and well designed. In a nutshell everything is nice to look at here.
I also read in my lonely planet that Swedes drink more milk than any other country in the world! And more coffee than any other country with the exception of Finland. This makes sense as cute cafes are abundant and the coffee here is phenomenal I must say. As I walk around and stare in the shop windows the smells of Sweden surround me. This whole city smells like a delicious bakery. Sweet cinammon rolls and coffee and the occasional tinge of a cigarette whirl around in the air. And flowers and oh! was that a bird call? I swear this cannot be real.
One thing I miss about India is the fact that people talk to you. No one really talks to each other here unless you have to buy something or if you already know them. Which is fine. After all the madam! money change! its nice to be ignored. But I know that I can't do it forever. Luckily I'm heading down to Skäne to visit Freja and Louvisa tomorrow so I'll get some human contact. And then I'm wwoofing for a few weeks and they HAVE to talk to me there, so I'm good.
I was sitting in the train station today, waiting for my number to come up so I could buy my train ticket. Yeah thats how you buy train tickets here, you dont shove past ten seventies-style greasy-haired dirtbags to be given a slip of paper or a no madam- train not possible today. You sit and when your number is called you buy your very expensive ticket for the express train and you get your youth discount and everything. But while I was waiting I watched this little and I must say rather chubby, rosy-cheeked blonde girl throw a MASSIVE tantrum. She was like a female version of Agustus Gloop from Willy Wonka. She screamed and punched her dad in the thigh for like ten minutes. She was decked out head to toe in pink and carried a little pink tote with Princesses written on it and pictures of all the Disney princesses. Normally this would be annoying. But I just sat there amazed at the privileged life this girl has and will lead. Yeah she's a chubby little brat. But she's a girl and she can do this and when she grows up she can dress like a total slut and throw tantrums then too. If this girl was born in India... well for one she wouldn't be so fat, but her life would be a stuggle from start to finish and she would never know the pure joy of being able to choose your choices. Even if that choice is to lay on the ground screaming at the train station or eat twenty bars of Toblerone. This makes me a little sad. But I laugh anyways at fat ass actual over there (and her poor parents).
It's chilly outside and I am wearing jeans and a long sleeved shirt(because I WANT to) and a coat and a scarf. And this is the middle of summer? But its great and refreshing, I think I'll go roam and check out the palace where the royal family lives, and maybe get some more coffee and biscotti- who knows. I will just go where the (clean) road takes me.