A FOX ON MY BACK

If you are new to Sweden and ride public transport, one thing that will strike you is the fox on every other person’s back. No, they don’t drape a fox on their back. They carry a Fjallraven Kanken bag that has the logo of a fox, (it is actually an arctic fox, since that is what Fjallraven means in Swedish). The bus I ride to work, stops at a school on its way to the main University. Most people on it carry a backpack and the Kanken one seems to be the most popular. You see it in different colors and sizes and different states of fraying. Girls seem to prefer purple, yellow and pink and boys, olive green and blue. Adults normally carry bigger bags in maroon or black.

The main retailer for the bag is a store called Nature Companiet. As the name suggests, it is a store that sells everything for the outdoors, like REI or Patagonia. One wall is draped with Kanken bags in different colors. It also sells bags that are most stylish than Kanken, and has an entire selection of outdoor wear. As I started moving around more, I found it being carried by people on trains, on flights and also riding bikes with the bag on their backs.

Kanken bags are simply designed and made using sturdy recycled plastic. They are meant to ease the burden on the back of Swedish school children. The have a large main container, an outside zipped pocket and a pocket to hold a water bottle. The laptop version comes with a removable pad. You can carry it on your back using the simple straps or hold it, using the two small handles.

I knew about Kanken bags before I moved to Sweden, I read about them in the Financial Times in 2015 and had planned to buy one for A when she went to college. A year later, she wanted a new backpack for college and we decided to buy this one. At 110 dollars a piece, it was four times more expensive than any of her earlier backpacks. The first trip the bag took was to Istanbul. Istanbul is almost Europe and we found most teenagers with a Kanken bag. When we left A at Austin, I noticed a wall filled with Kanken bags in the local Urban Outfitters, and that too in the Longhorn burnt orange! It wasn’t so exclusive after all! When A got home after freshman year, her black Kanken was grey. A quick wash in the washer restored it to its original black.

I have been seeking opinions on various things Swedish from the locals, the long winter, the amazing range of bakeries and cafes, the fantastic public transport and of course Kanken bags. My friend, Annica tells me that their popularity is cyclical and the reason I think they are ubiquitous is because they are enjoying a revival, given their environmentally friendly credentials. Another colleague in his 50s shuddered at the thought of carrying one of them as a child. Those days the only color they came in was olive green. A younger colleague in his 30s told me that his young daughter had been gifted one by his cool older niece. However, when he was a kid, they only family that used the bags were the crazy ornithologist next door, who recycled everything and ate muesli and spent lot of time in the forest! Maybe more Swedes are behaving like the ornithologist family these days.

As I head back home, I was thinking of getting myself something very Swedish. To me, nothing says it better than a Kanken bag. Yet, another informal survey revealed that the bags last for over 25 years. So, I will wait for another two years for A to transition completely to her new expensive bankers bag and pass her Kanken to me. I am already composting and eating muesli, and a fox on my back will complete the nature loving persona.

Two pictures of A with a fox on her back, going down the long and steep escalator at Helsinki airport.

Emilia and contentment

 Its end April already. In another 5 weeks’ time, I will be saying adieu to my Sweden sojourn and returning home to Coppell, Texas.

I spent just 6 days in Sweden in March. The month started with a beautiful trip to Bergen and Oslo in Norway. This was followed by a business trip to Modena, Italy and then a spring break trip home to Coppell. A few days in Sweden, and I flew to spend Easter week with my mom in Delhi. I experienced temperatures ranging from -16C to +35C. Weather from extreme cold, to mild spring and nascent summer. This is going to be about Modena though.

I have visited Italy twice. We spent a week in Florence and another in Rome with Ananya as a toddler, who I had to carry since we didn’t take her stroller. 12 years later we repeated the trip, now the toddler was a very well mannered 13 year old who loved churches and art museums. We enjoyed gelato and pizza too!

When you think of Modena, you think of balsamic vinegar. There is an entire array of foods Modena is famous for. It belongs to the Emilia-Romagna province. In addition to the vine, the region is famous for ham and parmesan cheese. What I knew of the region, was the good food and vine and zest for life! If Modena and my boss are a representative sample of the region, I saw plenty of evidence of that.

We arrived into Bologna airport. The first thing that strikes you is just how noisy the airport is. This feeling is heightened primarily because I came in from super quiet Sweden and Denmark. The drive to Modena is on a highway that cuts through vineyards on either side.

First things first, my boss made reservations for dinner for the next night. I would have loved to go to Osteria Francescana, the 2^nd best restaurant in the world run by Massimo Bottura (please do watch him on episode 1 or season 1 of Chefs Table, you will wipe away a tear or two). At over 250 euros per head, it is not allowed on company account. We did go to a close copy, Trattoria da Massimo in Rubiera. The reservation took 15 minutes to finalize since a menu had to be decided for the vegetarian. Between the boss and Massimo they agreed on the courses. The first course would be tortelli (yes, this is different from tortellini) with spinach and cheese in a butter sauce. This would be followed by more tortelli, this time filled with pumpkin. The second course for the vegetarian would be grilled asparagus with potatoes. All this to be washed down with vine.

This was my second in person meeting with my boss. We primarily interact via email and have an occasional conference call. I learnt that he had been a DJ and ran a radio station with his friends, specializing in rock music. Why he would settle into a dull life as an accountant was puzzling, but as he said, the DJ gig didn’t pay the bills.

That evening I dined with Jonas (my Swedish colleague). 8 PM is very early for dinner in Italy. We walked to the center of Modena and saw the church that was pretty breath taking even in the dark. The restaurant menu was only in Italian. This is when google translate comes handy. The waiter came to take our orders. We had been told by the boss to try burrata (mozzarella wrapped around cream). Jonas ordered his salad of burrata with prosciutto. I very hesitantly asked the waiter if I could have it with sliced tomatoes. “Madam, that is a caprese salad”. “Of course,”. I said. “I want an insalata caprese.” That immediately broke the ice and the service from then on was impeccable. The food arrived and you know that Instagram was created just to photograph Italian food, with its combination of white, green and red! This was followed by a vegetarian pizza, (more Instagram fodder). After two slices, I was full. We were then served (on the house) a shot of lemon sorbet (very refreshing) and followed by a shot of chocolate liqueur! The perfect meal was topped with a rose bud that was given to me at the table.

After a long day of meetings, interspersed with the boss describing his breakfast of a peach cake that his wife had made with frozen peaches from the previous summer, we headed to dinner at Trattoria da Massimo. Again, it was almost 8 PM and I was dying of hunger.

First arrived the spinach and cheese tortelli in butter sauce. I could taste the freshness. After the first few bites, the blandness got boring. Next came the pumpkin tortelli. After the first two pieces, I was convinced that it was dessert. I asked the boss to request for some pepper. He was offended. The boss shook his head and his hands and said,”No no no no. you cannot add pepper. Some things just don’t combine. I was so upset at lunch when I saw you put your salad on your pasta. And the pasta already had vegetables!”

In my defence, the salad contained a few pieces of arugula leaves and it was easier to eat it together with the pasta.

I was done after the two rounds of tortelli and skipped the grilled asparagus in favour of salad. The server placed a caddy with olive oil, baslsamic vinegar and salt and pepper shakers. I didn’t want to affront the boss’s sensibilities again and asked him if I could add pepper to the salad. He translated that to the server, who grimaced but asked me to at least add some good pepper from the pepper mill. My dinner mates were served red meat as the main course and despite how good they said it tasted, they struggled to finish it after two rounds of tortelli in butter sauce and another round of tortelli in meat sauce.

The wine was lambrusco. a sparkling red wine from the region. I normally don’t drink unless I am in the midst of family or very close friends. I did take a small serving and had to ask for more. It was the best wine I have tasted. I stopped after the second helping, it was so good that I could have drunk half a bottle easily. The boss says Italian wine is best in the world. And the wine from Modena is the best Italian wine.

Dessert was Zuppa Inglese. This was created in the Emilia region to copy trifle from Elizabethan England. I would describe it as a rather flat tasting tiramsu. Instead of mascarpone cheese with coffee, the pudding is layered on lady fingers with alternating chocolate and lemon layers.

The meal concluded with coffee. No cappuccino though. It is blasphemy to drink cappuccino after 12 in the afternoon. Another lesson learnt! And one more, never ask for parmesan cheese over pasta with seafood. It is just not done.

We started our meetings late the next morning. I took the time to walk to the city center. Instagram was also made to photograph old Italian cities. The beautiful church in the center, street corners leading into colourful alleys, corridors covered with arches and of course ubiquitous Vespas, and bicycle baskets laden with fresh flowers. (No Ferraris sighted in the old city). The Church, built in the Romanesque style is not very ornate. It is a UNESCO heritage site and is undergoing massive renovation.

As I returned to Sweden, I wondered why I was so impressed with the boss. My interaction with him has only been during the course of this assignment. There was something about his sunniness. He promptly responded with the name of the dessert we had eaten when I asked him about it on email. There was no small talk at dinner. It was about football, cars, motor bikes and primarily about food and wine. It must be to do with living where he does, where a glass of wine is offered when one asks for water (from Anthony Bourdain’s episode on the region).

You can be always sunny when your only complaint in life is that the beach is two hours away from where you live. But, most importantly he is aware of his good fortune of living where he does and having the life he does.

I guess that is the key to contentment. Acknowledging to ourselves the good fortune we have, however small.

Click on link to see pictures from my trip.

https://photos.app.goo.gl/9MZqy0JjIff6tEFV2

An ant in a fire drill

This has nothing to do with the frightening Texas red ants. This is about an ant in Sweden.

Here is the background. In the office in Sweden we recently had a fire drill. The office follows activity based working (ABW). This means that no one has fixed desks, no desk phones, no chance of keeping personal items in your work area. Coats are hung on coat stands near entrance doors or to be kept in your personal locker. Since I don’t have school drop off duties, I normally arrive before most others and get a choice seat. One of the goals of ABW is for employees to move about the office. I stick to sitting at the best available corner desk. It gives me a chance to observe others and also blend in the background. Limited number of quiet rooms are available for taking and making calls. Getting a meeting room is always a challenge and there are casual areas available around coffee tables that can be used for non-confidential meetings. People also gather around coffee tables for their FIKA break which in other cultures can be translated to chat over coffee or Chai pe Charcha.

Being a newcomer, I wanted to follow the protocol of ABW. I would arrive in the morning, choose my desk, place my laptop, take out paraphernalia to make the day go smoothly, chargers for laptop and phone, earphones, notebook and pen and my reading glasses. My access card which is also the VPN card would go into the slot for it in the laptop. Lunch box went into the refrigerator and the laptop and crossbody bags went into the locker. As I got more comfortable in the office, I found it more convenient to leave my bags at my desk and eventually started leaving my outerwear draped on my chair (strict no-no by ABW standards).

I have been in a fire drill in Denton. The first few times we heard the piercing siren and most people just waited at their desks, waiting for someone to make a move towards the exit. They then appointed a marshal for each area who lead the people out to a safe place. We got better at evacuating the area with more practice.

The fire alarm went off in the office last week. People immediately began moving. I took a few seconds to wear my two jackets and took my access card with me and followed the crowd out. In perhaps 5 minutes, there were about 300 employees gathered outside the fence in the gathering point. People were in various stages of protection against the weather. Many had walked past the coat stands to get their jackets, some had taken time to bring their laptops and bags and perhaps head home. People hung around in groups and I waited with my Hungarian and Thai teammates. My Thai colleague had left the office without his coat (his was in his locker) and was bravely standing in freezing weather in a light sweater. After what felt like ages, but was only 15 minutes, they gave us the all clear and we headed back in. Someone had had the presence of mind to open the gate in the fence so people could move in en-masse rather than one at a time via the turnstile.

As I walked back to my desk at the other end of the floor, I realized I was unable to see anything around me. There were people around me who were headed to their desks too. They were all at least 6 feet and 2 inches tall. I know that I am not tall by any standards. And I live in a country that has very tall people. But this was the first time that I was literally in their midst. So, this is what an ant must feel like on a forest floor, surrounded by bamboo trees!

 (In one of my earlier posts I had talked about the way to talk to a tall colleague was to stand as far away as possible so that you are not craning your neck to make eye contact. The other way is to wear very high heels. But when you are already a foot shorter than the average person, high heels are not of much use.)

I carried this creepy feeling of being an ant into the next day, till I met Andrea, a colleague visiting us from Italy. He had been a professional volleyball player and was at least 6ft 9 inches tall. My Swedish colleague Henric, who is definitely over 6 ft 2 inches tells us that he feels very short in front of Andrea. The feeling of being an ant went away. Of course, a bamboo tree will feel like an ant in the midst of a redwood forest.

Like all other things in life, height too is relative.

Seasons and trips with kindness

I am back to this blog after four months. Most of you know that I lost my sister in September. Our lives have completely changed. One day I hope I can write about her and share how incredible she was, with you. Right now her memory fills me with tears.

I have also had some wonderful and interesting experiences in the past four months. I want to record and share them with you.

1 Season change .

 The glorious Swedish summer ends in August. The days start getting shorter, heating is turned on by the city on October 1st. Lila Torg (Little Square) that used to hold spillover seating from restaurants is cleared of all outdoor seating by end October. Almost everywhere you see people dressed in black, going about their lives as normal. Walking about in the usual brisk pace, riding bikes or wheeling babies in sturdy prams. “It’s never cold in Sweden, you don’t have a warm coat”. Famous Swedish saying! The days are now dark and grey and will stay so till end March.

2 Dressing for the season.

   Never underestimate the need for a good hat. It seals in body heat. I am very happy that I picked up weather proof anti skid boots on a sale in Costco. They keep my feet toasty and sometimes my feet feel cooked! Remember to always take a huge warm shawl/scarf. It protects your neck and adds a pop of color to all black! Burying your hands in your coat pocket can only keep them so warm. You need a good pair of gloves. Of course, very few of them let you work on your smart phone!

It took me a while to figure out how not to feel like I have used a sauna at the end of my 45 minute commute to work (including 15 minute combined walk on either side) in near freezing temperatures. A hat seals the heat in and in a heated bus also starts cooking your head, as do shoes and gloves! So even if I am on a 5 minutes bus ride, I take off my hat and gloves and unzip my jacket. I still come into the office waiting to get rid of outer clothing, but at least my hair is not sopping wet!!

3 Wallet, coat pockets and reading glasses

   When you are 51, its time you wear reading glasses regularly or at least wear them around your neck. If you combine not wearing glasses with a disorganized wallet, you run into embarrassing situations like I did.  the first time was when the Swedish border police boarded the train from Denmark to check valid documents. I gave them my passport but had to show them my Employment/residence permit card too (residence visa is not stamped on the passport). I searched my wallet for the card without my glasses and pulled out and handed over the first one that looked Swedish. It was my library card! The guard very patiently handed it back and waited till I pull out my glasses and then found the right card tucked in safely behind several store cards!

The next time it happened was when I landed in Copenhagen and the lady at the immigration at the airport wanted to see the card. Again, no glasses and a messy wallet. She was kind enough to let me pass but told me to always present the card with the passport when I was entering Europe.

You coat pocket is like a handbag. It can hold surprising amount of stuff and can be very deep! I normally keep my bus pass in the pocket for easy access. On a surprise check of passes, I could not find the pass in the pocket while sitting down. I finally had to stand up and reach deep into the pocket to find it.

4 Fjallbacka

This was my first business visit in my new role. Fjallbacka is a tiny fishing village north of Malmo on the western Swedish coast. It is a 4.5 hour car drive from Malmo. Fjallbacka is famous as the setting for murders in Camilla Lackberg's series called Fjallbacka murders. I haven't read the books but the town is beautiful. We stay in a quaint hotel that has rooms with names of famous cities and each one decorated in a theme suited to the name. The first time I stayed in a room called Havana. Don't remember much of it since I came back only to sleep. The next time I stayed in Casablanca. The bathroom was unforgettable. It had two sunken tubs. I had to get to the tubs after climbing 4 steps and then climbing down into it, very gingerly, lest I slip and fell! The tiles were beautiful colorful ceramic. The evening entertainment was a ride in a fishing boat that also doubled as lobster restaurant that served lot of alcohol. The ride was through beautiful Fjords. At a distance we were shown Ingrid Bergman’s house. The boat docked and we all went down to enjoy the feast. I was fed mushrooms and beans, given my dietary needs. The bread and butter and great company compensated what I otherwise missed in food. Unfortunately, I could not make up with extra dessert since they are served pre portioned.

5 Alborg and Hjorring

 My next business trip was to Hjorring. It is a tiny town in Denmark. To get there, we had to arrive at the airport in Alborg which is another tiny Danish town 20 kilometers away.

I arrived into Alborg in a tiny 50 seater aircraft. Alborg is a small airport and you walk from and to your aircraft. I got into the airport building and waited for my bag. In about 10 minutes the other 49 passengers had collected their bags and left the arrival hall. There was one bag still on the conveyor belt. It never struck me to check the baggage tag. I had never checked that bag in and it definitely didn't look familiar. Deciding that my bag had been misplaced, I stepped out of the hall. Only then it struck me that I should have at least checked the baggage tag. I could not go back to the baggage area. I looked for anyone who looked like an official but all I saw were passengers. By this time I was a little desperate. I saw a door that had a board that definitely referred to guns in Danish. Since that seemed to be the only door that would have a human behind it I bravely rang the bell. The official who let me in patiently explained that there was indeed a customer service counter further down and she didn't look angry at all. Maybe my windblown harried look made anyone feel sorry for me!

I went to the customer service counter and told her about the missing bag. I asked her if she could go back to the arrival hall and check if the lonely bag was mine! She said that it was a restricted area. As I stood there filling up the form, she disappeared for a moment and reappeared with my bag! I smiled foolishly and thanked her profusely! In my rush to run away from my embarrassment,  I walked to the closest door, opened the handle and got straight into the waiting cab. the kindly cab driver took my destination down and gently reminded me not to use emergency exit the next time. She was surprised that the alarm hadn't gone off when I opened the door! Maybe there was only so much of public humiliation I could have taken that day!

Once I recharge my phone and used the restroom, I feel a lot better and almost forget my earlier embarrassment. I am ready for a nice lunch and find there is a restaurant called South Indian close to the hotel. I take a quick walk in downtown Alborg. I find officially sanctioned street artists busy covering construction site walls with graffiti. In fact, Alborg seems to be filled with graffiti of all kinds. I also visit an exhibition of photographs by Soren Solkaer of graffiti with their creators, in most cases not identifiable since what they do is illegal in most cities.

Back to food. South Indian restaurant did not disappoint me. I ate a well made dosa with flavorful sambar and chutney. The chef was from Salem and the decor had natarajas and kuthuvallakkus(brass lamps) instead of the ubiquitous Air India Maharajas and Rajasthani musician statues. And the restaurant didn't smell of tikka masala! I still can't get over eating authentic dosas in the middle of Denmark!

Hjorring is a car ride away. the highway is surrounded by windmill farms. You know then that Denmark is really ambitious about weaning off fossil fuel. I go for dinner with my team member to a brewhouse. She calls ahead to ask if there will be something vegetarian for me to eat. The restaurant is on its way to get 2 Michelin stars. My colleague starts with salmon and I am served a tiny portion of super mashed potatoes on a slice of pickled beet. The bread on the side is delicious. The main course for her is veal. It is the same for me, except I am served the bed of greens on which the veal comes. By the time I am done with it, it feels that I was made to eat the food which eventually became veal! The dessert is fantastic, again pre portioned and is called fruits in a forest. It is served on a plate, berries with literally a dollop of chocolate and almond ice cream. They invoice me for the veal though they didnt serve it to me! Glad the company paid for the 75 USD a head dinner. And no, neither of us had a beer!

6 Home Dallas

After 4 months in Sweden, I visit home just around Thanksgiving. I meet A after 3 months. She has been through a lot in the meantime. Managing her emotions on losing her aunt, who she was devoted to, a heavy course load and other activities. It is nice just to hold my baby and watch TV with her. I enjoy being in my own kitchen but suddenly find everything at home bigger than I need. I have become perfectly content living in a 650 sq feet apartment. I visit office for a day and meet with my friends. It feels lovely being back to a place that has been my home for more than ten years. I meet almost all my friends in person. At least one meal a day is eaten outside in the week I am home. 

7 India

My earlier plan was to spend the Christmas break at home in Dallas. I got an invite to attend not one but two weddings. As a family, we needed to be together for a celebration after my sister. I spent more than a month in India. The longest I have been there since leaving 20 years ago. I worked for two weeks from there remotely and managed to find time to attend the weddings, travel to 2 different cities and meet with some friends after 30 years. The weddings were beautiful. There is something so special about being in the midst of family of different generations and dress up in colorful silks and eat all the great food!

8. Kindness

I have since returned to Sweden. Coming back after the warmth of family and comfort of friends is never easy. I felt more frustrated because of a cold and mild fever. For a week since I returned, I felt exhausted like I had been wrung out in a washing machine.

I have also started the last 6 months of my contract. I started the contract not knowing what will happen at the end of it but was brave enough to take the leap of faith. In hindsight, it is so easy to say these words to yourself and believe in them when you are getting started. When it is time to actually have faith, it becomes shaky!  Rather than  dwell on the unknown and fret needlessly, I want to remember and give thanks to people and experiences, specially in the last six months. So here goes:

1. Family. I come from a small one and for all practical purposes I am now an only child. Family is more than people you are born with. Family is also bonds that you form via people you are born with or through people you are married to. My dream of a house full of grandkids and grandnieces and grandnephews and sisters and brothers via marriage and blood will hopefully come true.

2. My colleagues and company. My bosses and colleagues have been nothing but sympathetic during my loss. Never once did they doubt my ability to deliver when I had to take time off. Its small things related to food that touch you. A factory manager remembering my dietary needs and arranging for appropriate food in a remote place. 

3. Travel. I never dreamed of visiting little towns in Sweden and Denmark. But I have done a lot of that in the past 6 months. Travelling to a tiny town in Northern Europe may not seem like an adventure, but it is not something most people do!

4. Meeting friends in person. Thanks to connectivity, I don't think we make as much effort to meet people in person as we did earlier. I met so many friends in Dallas in person. My best friend at home is my neighbor and sometimes we go through several months before we see each other. There is something so special in catching up in person though. Either one on one in the latest coffee shop or as a group in my bookclub!

I met two of my childhood friends after more than 30 years in India. There is something so comforting to take off from where you left off all those years ago. I am not going to wait another 30 years for our next meeting. I also met some several friends after ages. We had been through lot of things in life, children, growing older, coping with loss of parents or in my case a sibling and in some cases unraveling of marriages and health. Sharing on facebook is limited by our desire to make our lives look rosier than they really are. You need to meet in person to share feelings and reassured that you are not the only one touched by vicissitudes of life.

5. Girlfriends What will I do without them? My life will be poorer without them. Sitting is Sweden, I am geographically distant from most of them. Some I have already leaned on to share my anxiety for the coming months. The others I know are there for me anytime I need them. Their presence in my life is more reassuring than anything else! They have been feeding my family or spent time and effort in connecting with my daughter via phone or text when she needed it the most.

I hope to be able to write in what I think is my usual breezy style in the future! My next business trip is to Modena in Italy. I am already dreaming about balsamic vinegar and parmesan cheese!

Real Life

Its been seven weeks since I got to Sweden to live and work. The first four went off in a blur of living well in perfect weather and travelling within Sweden and Denmark. Most times I felt I was inside a picture postcard!

R and A left in the fourth week. That weekend was the start of the Malmo festival. My friend from Texas stayed over for the weekend. So I eased into real life really slowly.

On Monday, people were back at work from a four week long summer vacation. I was introduced to a lot of them, almost all over 6 feet tall and named either Bo or Lars or Johan. It will take me a few more weeks to get names sorted. One way I have learnt to deal with my lack of height, is to stand away from a very tall person and not crane my neck to make eye contact. Having a loud voice helps overcome the physical space!

I have been getting physical evidence of being more settled here. This is in the form of junk mail in my mailbox. This is exactly like in the US, with heavy promotions from super markets and a whole catalog for tools!!

I finally did get a hair trim. I did come out without rainbow color hair. Almost all the salons have a "drop in welcome" board. (my street has 6 of them). Perhaps its lost in translation, but not one of them had an appointment for at least a week when I dropped in. I finally chose a salon that is part of a mall. The girl at the counter was really sweet and did a good job with my hair.

I also managed to get my eyebrows threaded. When we moved from Dubai to the US, my biggest worry was to find a place that does threading. Fourteen years in, there are threading services offered
 from the homes of providers to the corridors in a shopping mall and everything in between!

I found Salong Sadaf on a street off the vegetable market. It was a rainy day and I had already eaten a fourth of the Iranian bread that I had picked up fresh from the oven. I walked in without an appointment and waited in the midst of Arab women who had shed their hijabs and abayas sine they were in the midst of only women. There was a constant stream of chatter in Arabic, interspersed with loud laughter. I wish I had managed to pick up at least a few more words. After I lived in Dubai for 7 years, I know how to say thank you, friend and the number five in Arabic. Gestures and a few common words like eyebrow and threading got my work done. The ladies who run the place there spoke some Swedish in addition to Arabic. If they immigrated to Sweden, where was the need to learn English other than to communicate with someone like me.

I am so enjoying cooking here. The kitchen is a fourth of my kitchen back home. I am making do with the pots and pans that came with the kitchen. This has forced me to take short cuts. I now use canned beans and tomato puree (all packed in tetra recart of course). I also don't make my own yoghurt. There is plenty of excellent quality yoghurt available in the stores. There is something about better ingredients that make you a better cook. I do miss my weekend routine of baking sourdough bread.

This brings me to my happiest place in Malmo so far. This is the farmers market I have been religiously visiting each Saturday. This farmers market is more a vegetable sellers market and is not catered towards Chardonnay sipping, lululemon clad yogis. It's for the regular person. The stalls are run by Arabs, Afghans and Turks who sell fruits and vegetables and leaves of all kinds and colors. It reminds me of how my parents bought produce in India, from a cart and not a refrigerator. There are native Swedes who sell the most delicious berries and beets and home grown tomatoes. Again, my laziness in learning at least a little Swedish is glaring when the sellers tell me what to pay in Swedish and I stare blankly back. It takes a Somali girl to translate into English.

The Iranian bakery sits at the edge of the vegetable square. It is most famous for its sesame bread that is packed hot off the oven and an amazing array of baklava and Iranian cookies! The clientele is all mixed, just like for the farmers market.

When food, produce and desserts they are that good, it doesn't matter who is selling them since the joy they bring is universal.

Settling In

It is exactly three week since we moved here. I am not exaggerating when I  say that it feels longer. It has helped to have R here with me. He does the heavy lifting(literally) and has been discovering the country. He has made use of the summer pass and travelled across the length and breadth of southern sweden in two weeks, making the most of the great weather!

Ananya joined us last week. We were seeing her after over two months and were ecstatic to have her over! We made a trip to Stockholm by train and visited a wonderful modern city. However, all of us were relieved to be back at home in Malmo!

Contrary to what my recent Facebook posts may suggest, I am in Sweden to work and not vacation. Its  just that we came to the country at the best time and I can't resist recording the sights.

I want to capture some highlights of the last three weeks.

1. Making it official! Thanks to my US citizenship, I could start work in Sweden before getting my residence permit card. I did the biometric testing the day I arrived and was told at the counter to expect it within a week. A week went by and no signs of it. I also needed to get my tax ID application in for my things to arrive from the US, and this needed the residence permit card. A week later, I called the help desk and was told that the card was probably lost and I should get another biometric screening done, an email response to the same question suggested that I wait till the weekend and then get in touch again. I decided to be doubly sure and took  another long bus ride  to the migration center, only to be told at the counter that it was too early to panic and I should get it within that week. I did get it within two weeks. Yesterday I submitted the form to get my tax ID and with that the last hurdle to get my things from the US has been removed. My things will arrive in Malmo early next week . I really don't have space to store all my clothes (mainly black or blue colors). that will arrive with my shipment.

2. Office and friends

A new place starts feeling more at home when you make friends.  Almost all my new friends will have some connection to work. I met an ex colleague from Dubai after 13 years! She has moved to Sweden for good. I met a new Ukrainian colleague who is a vegetarian and seems to be more of a practicing Hindu than I am! I look forward to bonding with one of the few other vegetarians at work! I also got introduced to two other Indian and Pakistani men at work. Listening to and speaking a mix of  Hindi and Urdu in Malmo was as comforting as eating daal chawal with achaar ( lentil rice with pickle) . I miss listening to English spoken in an American accent, non stop CNN on tv notwithstanding. Then again, only 10% of people have been coming to work. I look forward to the other interesting and comforting people I will meet.

3. Location, location, location!

I couldn't have chosen a better located apartment. It is literally one street off the city center. If my windows are open, I can hear laughter and chatter way into early morning on weekends. I just hope it stays just as lively and animated when winter is here. There are grocery stores a 5 minute walk away in three directions and a beautiful park in the fourth. I am literally living in a romantic comedy, the part where the heroine walks to her New York brownstone carrying groceries in paper bags. The only difference is that I carry my groceries in reusable cloth bags. The movies never showed her climbing 36 steps to the third floor with a computer backpack and two grocery laden bags.

4. Alexander Skarsgaard and the apartment

Yes, most Swedish men do look like him. The building manager certainly does. He came by to review what needed fixing in the apartment and answer dumb questions. He assured us that the dial on top on the  cooktop vent does indeed vent, though it is noiseless. ( I keep a window open though ) the bathroom doesn't have an exhaust fan but does have a vent that lets the steam out. He brought me the much  needed hair dryer ( not that it makes much difference when your hair goes haywire in the wind once you step out). The only flaw in the apartment is the size of the single bathroom. Then again  bathrooms in the US are probably bigger than they need to be.

5. Grooming

I don't do much with my hair except an occasional trim when it looks wild. My street has at least six hair salons. My only concern is that I should not come out with rainbow colored hair which most patrons  steeping out seem to have!

6. Almost home!

I had a feeling of being at home last evening. Is three weeks too early to feel that? I was cooking in the kitchen and Ananya was at the table, working on her laptop and R fixing some photos on his laptop. I had the key ingredients that make me happy, my loves and a kitchen that I love. Being in Sweden does help too!

Trash talk

Disposing trash in a new place is not something you think of before you move there. I did read about the extreme recycling that takes place in Sweden from an  American perspective before I got here. Now that I am here, after the initial hesitancy, it seems to make sense.

I had been a community gardner in my town for four months before moving to Sweden. I participated in turning compost pile(a stinky and labor intensive process) just once. It took me the next three months to get rid of my shoulder and arm pain. A key ingredient to composting other than back breaking labor is kitchen waste. I started collecting vegetable and fruit peels and instead of tossing it in trash, added it to the compost pile in the garden. This reduced the frequency of trash that I set on the curbside from twice a week to once every three weeks. Yes, I do use a lot of vegetables and prepare them from scratch.

Back to Sweden. There are 6 bins in the buildings courtyard. There are only three apartments in the building, including us. I stayed away from the bins for as long as I could. I checked with a colleague as to what each box represented. He told me that it varies from each city and neighborhood and he is used to 8 different bins. I guess I was in a better situation.

I had made the big decision of leaving everything familiar behind to move to a new country for a new challenge. Sorting trash was not going to discourage me.

I surveyed the trash cans before taking the trash out. The brown one was for vegetable waste. The cart comes with a picture of an apple core. The laundry room had brown paper bags with the same logo and name as the brown cart. There are 4 blue carts. One for paper, carton and cardboard waste, another for plastic waste- containers and wrappers, the third one for clear glass and the last blue one for colored glass. Since we don't drink, that is one bin we will not use. The sixth is the green bin and that I assume takes care of the rest, that cannot be recycled or composted. There were stickers with pictures on all the bins. The words were all Swedish but that is why they say a picture speaks a thousand words. It helped to open each bin to see what was already inside. The first time I mixed the kitchen waste with general trash and put it in the green box. I separated paper and cardboard waste and placed them in plastic bags as instructed and put them in their right boxes.

Now that I have figured out what goes where, I need to make trash separation in the apartment more efficient. Vegetable waste now goes in the brown bag and will be placed at least twice a week in the brown bin. (I still use a lot of vegetables from scratch). I have one unlined bin for paper and plastic waste which will bagged separately when it is time to dispose them. And finally a lined bin for all other trash, which hopefully will not need disposal very frequently.

That is enough trash talk.