Globe Corner Blogs

Swedish flag flying - photo by Lisa

Every guide book to Sweden highly recommends going on a boat ride through Stockholm’s Archipelago–and with good reason. Many companies offer cruises that vary in length and activities on the boat, but they all offer spectacular views of the thousands of islands, the fabulous mansions and summer houses, yachts, and the many inlets. I went on the overnight cruise to the island of Aland. Aland is a bit of an anomaly as it is officially autonomous–it’s technically Finnish–but the majority of the 25,000 inhabitants speak Swedish and no Finnish. It is well known as a cycling destination, but the biggest attraction for the majority of my fellow travelers was the duty-free liquor store. After paying an exorbitant amount for a glass of wine in Stockholm, I understand why everyone was stocking up on as much as possible.

The ship was the called the Viking Cinderella and it was huge. It had restaurants galore including a Swedish Smorgasbord, a few bars and pubs, and a huge disco called the Fun Club with an ABBA cover band. The passengers were diverse but everyone seemed to be enjoying the duty free alcohol and dancing to ABBA’s “Dancing Queen.” It turned into quite the party. The next morning some of the passengers got off on Aland, and then the boat started to slowly make its scenic way back to Stockholm.

Olaus Magnus' Scandinavia 1539

The other day I was wasting a lot of time playing on Facebook and I got sucked into one of those stupid-yet-addictive quizzes that are popping up everywhere. They have one for everything imaginable and I saw that one of my friends had completed the “What is your true inner nationality” quiz. Naturally I had to take the quiz as well. Turns out my true inner nationality is “Swedish.” Hummm… never thought I was particularly Swedish. Even though I am proud of my Norwegian-German from Russia via Ukraine roots, I think that my inner-nationality is American. However, I have been told I have the soul of a Romanian by a Romanian, that I must be Croatian because I like red wine with fish, that I look really Bosnian, and that I was Icelandic by a sober Icelander. I would like to think that my inner nationality might be a New Zealander (I like the accent) or Canadian (I would like to live in Vancouver), but I never considered Swedish. It never crossed my mind.

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Voices --by Arnaldur Indridason

“Jesus,” Henry said. “A murder!”
“You have murders in Iceland?” his wife, Cindy [...] asked, glancing over at the Icelandair brochure on the bedside table.
“Rarely,” he said, trying to smile.
(excerpted from Voices)

I didn’t expect to get so wrapped up in a series of murder mysteries. There has to be some secret to this one because I rarely read when I cook, and Arnaldur Indridason’s books made me do just so. The main characters, three detectives from the Reykjavik police, are too different to stick together in the world outside the investigations they lead. The lives of Erlendur, the senior detective, perfectly bred and American-educated Sigurdur Oli, and the amazing cook and housewife Elinborg would have never met if Iceland didn’t have truly mysterious criminal cases popping up now and then. In some strange way those murders remind me of (please, don’t laugh) those wooden matreshka dolls — you open it and there is a new one sitting inside, which contains yet another one, and another one, and so on until you have found the tiniest, the very last little doll. I would say that’s a different plot recipe from a usual missing puzzle piece-type paperback thriller.

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Vasa Ship Stockholm -- photo by Lisa

Even though my Norwegian grandfather brainwashed me into believing that Norway is superior to Sweden in every way, I love Stockholm. I thought that I was going to have a leisurely three days to hang out in Stockholm and visit friends, but the plan changed and instead of sight seeing, I was recruited to help someone move into her apartment. So my three days turned into one and next thing I knew, I was on a whirlwind tour of non-sequential Swedish history.  Knowing that I had three things on my agenda (Swedish meatballs with real lingonberry sauce, vikings, and really big ships), my friend tailor-made a schedule for me. And she had one thing on her agenda: showing me why Stockholm is the “Capital of Scandinavia“. Continue Reading »

Montenegro Has A Fjord!--photo by Lisa

I am constantly asked why I am trying to speak Croatian/Bosnian/Serbian. Most people assume that I have some relative that came from the area and I am trying to reconnect with my heritage. There is always some confusion when I explain that my grandparents were from Norway and being Norwegian and having black hair are not mutually exclusive properties. Most of the my fellow students have Croatian or Bosnian background and I must admit sometimes I get a bit jealous when they reminisce about growing up with the foods, playing Tamburi (folk music), visiting various cousins in the area, and all the colorful swear words that they learned from some uncle.

Then I always begin to feel a bit guilty about neglecting my “homeland.” I am a bad Norwegian.

I speak a total of ten Norwegian words and none of them are swear words. I have never met any of my cousins, nor have I visited the small, isolated village where Grandpa was born. I hate lutefisk and I have never successfully made krumkake.
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