Scandinavian Life

It has been pretty busy around here now that the weather has been amazing the past week. It has been sunny and around 70-80*F all week with very little rain. The sun is a bit more dangerous than back home due to the proximity of the country. The rate for skin cancer is much higher here in Sweden than most other countries, especially when everyone tries to soak it in as much as possible since winter is a dark, cold time. It has made painting a friend's house very relaxing. The humidity is basically non-existent and the ocean breeze keeps everything even keel. Other than that, Erek and I just finished our first Midsommar experience over last weekend and the U.S. suffered a frustrating loss in the World Cup. I have watched more soccer in the past weeks than ever in my entire life--it is actually exciting despite the pansy-esque "diving" and whiny faces. I will talk more about Midsommar and other things in the coming days, but for now I would like to list a chapter from the book I have been reading. The book my dad had given me, "In Cod We Trust," has been quite interesting in that most of it has literally been a repetition of what Erek and I have experienced. The author, Eric Dregni, details his year long journey in Norway with his family, describing everything from minor differences to the unique lifestyle of the Norwegian inhabitants. It feels has if he turned his blog into a full book--a lot of things similar upon my arrival in Sweden. Since most of us back in the states never study or hear much of anything about Norway, let alone Scandinavia, I have decided to type a chapter from his book. I believe this chapter lays out in great summarization the typical lifestyle and views of the people in Scandinavia. Though Sweden, Norway, and Finland are quite different in many respects, they all share similar views upon how life is approached. Unless one has relatives, is from Minnesota or North Dakota, or chooses to study the Nordic countries in school, most do not learn a single thing about these countries, other than how they are portrayed by American comics or television series'. I know that this isn't a depiction of every single Swede, but I think it will help those who do not know much about Scandinavian values--different, but effective way of looking at life. With that said, here you go!

"In Cod We Trust"

Living the Norwegian Dream

A simple yearlong residency permit meant the Norwegian government would take care of us and pay for the birth of our first baby. A pamphlet we received from the Royal Ministry of Health and Social Affairs confirmed, "Compulsorily insured under the National Insurance Scheme are all persons resident or working in Norway."

No wonder Norway has had the highest quality of life rating for years. "It's not that we buy more things or have more things, it's that we are guaranteed a high standard of living," an American living in Oslo told me. "We don't have two cars, we take the bus; we can probably count the number of times that we go out to eat." While this may not be the American dream of wealth, Norway's system gives a degree of stability and certainty that your health care will be covered, free higher education will be provided, you won't be out on the street if you lose your job, and your pension will be paid by the government.

When Norway was declared to have the highest standard of living for three years in a row, the prime minister told the Norwegian people to stop complaining that they didn't have enough things. About the same time, the Norwegian government was considering a proposal to make public transportation--especially in Oslo--all free.

SIDE NOTE FROM ME: The above paragraph is what many other countries disagree with--especially America--people want their own things--be able to buy whatever they'd like--free society--which I completely understand and think is good--it seemed as if Norway compromised with its society in having free transportation--as if to make a point that if the people are beginning to rebel, then win them over again by supplementing them with a small add-on--could be read the wrong way, but sometimes governments aren't always trying to scam the people--some do good for the better of human life--I strongly believe this is true in Norway.

Book Continued---

The welfare system was paid for by high taxes, especially income tax, which didn't seem to raise the rancor that it would in the United States. Many people in Norway were proud of their welfare system, but Norwegian modesty kept them from bragging. "It's the system we have chosen," Sissel, my second Norwegian teacher, told me matter-of-factly, "and I'm happy to pay the taxes for it."

Happy to pay taxes for welfare? I'd been surprised to hear nearly identical views from many Norwegians, which was one of the main reasons that Norway refused to join the European Union. No one wanted to give up this comprehensive welfare system that helped all Norwegians.

Growing up in Minnesota, I was always taught by my dad that Scandinavian society was some sort of utopian system that helps everyone. When asked why we were in Norway, I joked that Katy and I were on assignment to discover the secrets of the Norwegian welfare system by having a baby. Katy was not amused.

When my great-grandfather Ellef left the Lusterfjord, Norway was the poorest country in Europe. Norwegians left in droves; more than 750,000 emigrated. This was the largest per capita emigration from Europe after Ireland.

After the discovery of oil and natural gas in the 1960's, along with tapping into the country's waterways for hydroelectric power, Norway became the richest country in Europe. Thanks to the massive oil reserves found in the North Sea, Norway is the third largest oil exporter. "The rest of Europe calls Norwegians 'The blue-eyed Arabs,'" Knut told me. Rather than letting Philips Petroleum do the drilling, the Norwegian government set up its own oil company, Statoil. The money goes into the oljefondet (oil fund) to support the government and keep taxes relatively low for this welfare system.

"Norway is rich not only because of Statoil," said Knut, "but also because as a country we've made a decision to share our resources with each other, like people in Sweden and Finland do. We're founded on a fusion between social solidarity and a democratic ideal. Therefore we don't have the poor like you do in the United States--or the crime, for that matter."

"Now in Norway we have oil and gas, so we are strong," our landlord, Arne, told me. "At least we think we are strong."

With the affluence came multinational corporations trying to capitalize on the newfound wealth. Arne was worried.

"Some of us Norwegians consider Norway to be the fifty-first state. Because we have McDonalds, Burger Kings, and all that, some Norwegians think that we're just like America."

I told him that I didn't see it that way. Norway has kept its character in spite of these growth spurts.

"That's good," he responded.

Still, I expected Norway to be clean and spotless like Switzerland. In general the farms and towns were tidy, but this new influx of fast food--O'Martins hamburger joints and 7-11 convenience stores--led to litter around these stores.

In a way, I was relieved to find a blemish on paradise, and thankful that Norway was relaxed and not too fastidious. In the balmy summer, hairy men fresh off the beach walked around the grocery without shirt or shoes. One day, I went into a Narvesen Kiosk to buy a pen but couldn't find anyone to help me. I heard a toilet flush in back, and the clerk came out of the bathroom zipping up his fly and tucking in his shirt. When I offered to pay for one of the Bic pens, he let me keep it. "Shh, it is OK," he said.

In Norway, the concept of trespassing is vastly different. Swimmers can take a dip in the water no matter who owns the property, and hikers can supposedly camp out wherever they want for one night. I felt an air of permissiveness permeating the society that I thought made Norwegians far more relaxed than their American counterparts. That is, apart from the social norms of Janteloven to keep the people in line. Also, strict laws in some areas, such as those against alcohol, underscored the social engineering to try to better the country. Still, Norway has one of the lowest murder rates in the world, in spite of 720,000 registered firearms.

Those who do commit heinous crimes spend a maximum sentence of twenty-one years in prison. "But no one stays more than about five years in jail," my Norwegian teacher Sissel said only somewhat sarcastically. Rather than sometimes regressive punishments for the accused, the Norwegian government wants to reintegrate criminals into society so they aren't a burden. Therefore, criminals often spend five years in jail and get an education. "It's just like going to the university, only you leave jail without debt accrued from paying for room and board," Sissel said as she showed me a photo in our Norwegian textbook of a jail cell with homey wooden walls and a view of the fjord that looked better than student housing.

Being thrown in the clink in Norway isn't all bad, and the government picks up the bill. "See that?" a cab driver asked me one day pointing out the window. "That's Norway's second largest jail, but there are only about 10 percent Norwegians in there. The rest are people from other countries who come here and then commit a crime. It's really more like a hotel. They each have their own room with TVs and Internet access. Some have even studied to become lawyers while they were in jail, and the Norwegian government paid for everything. It's better to be a prisoner in a Norwegian jail than free in Albania or Belarus."

Despite some anti-immigrant feeling, newspapers reported that the population of Norway would actually decline without these new arrivals, and, once again, the welfare system accommodates them.

This social-democratic idea of wealth redistribution and equality extends to the workplace, where the wage gap between entry-level workers and CEOs doesn't begin to approach the obscene levels reached by many U.S. companies. Shannon, a Canadian living in Norway, said, "Back home when someone is rich and has been successful, people say, 'Good for you!' Here in Norway, I feel that people are very jealous if someone makes a lot more money. Many don't even think that their boss should make more than they do. I think you lose the incentive here to get a higher education or take risks like starting your own business."

SIDE NOTES: As you can see there are definite pros and cons to every way of living, but it is always nice to hear about how other people go about in this world--it is nice to know there isn't one way to go about it.

Continued....

"Everyone's income is public knowledge and is even listed on the internet," said Arild, an engineer for a small oil exploration business. I responded that people are probably very respectful of each other's privacy, right? "No way," he responded. "The day after the list income, everyone comes to work, and they are all very angry that so and so makes a little bit more. Often, it's not even a dollar more, but it causes many arguments."

Sissel added, "If you see that your neighbor makes a million kronor and the responsibilities in his job description don't really fit what he's being paid for, you can report them. This rarely happens, but the idea of it keeps people honest." Janteloven has found new legs with the internet.

Does it keep salaries more even? "Yes," confirmed Arild, "but then people figure that a regular construction worker can go to work right away and get a paycheck because he requires no education. Compared to that of a higher-paid manager or engineer who get years of education--and debt--the lifetime earning is about the same."

"I know a lot of people who live off the system and don't want to work," Rachel said. "They get a doctor to say that they're unable to work, and then they just receive money from the government."

I blushed because I was accepting the Norwegian government's health care and free university tuition. While I agreed with Sissel that I was "happy to pay taxes" because I was receiving so much in return, I soon understood what these higher taxes meant. Gasoline was five times what it cost in the U.S. The government even wanted to tax us on boxes of our own stuff that we shipped from Minnesota to ourselves in Norway. With this big government taxing--and helping--the Norwegians, it's no wonder that Oslo beat out Tokyo as the world's most expensive city.

THOUGHTS:

That chapter laid out the beliefs of the Scand. world fairly well. After talking and living in Sweden, a lot of the same "unity" beliefs are the same, but I believe Norway is a bit more strict in certain areas. Though the thought of their sense of helping one another is very appealing in the success of the human race as a whole, I still believe governments like the U.S. are right in paying specific salaries. Though we do not want every profession to be completed for money only, it makes sense to pay those who invest more time and work ethic and care. The ultimate goal for life is not making the most money, but rather finding a craft or way of survival that is sustainable and enjoyable and worth trying to perfect. If one truly enjoys helping people and aiding the sick, then a doctor should not worry about how much he or she is paid. It shouldn't be about the money, but rather improving our human race in existence--no one should help someone just for the money--eventually the work will be half-assed and lead to more problems with other people. But because of school finances, supporting a family, and the amount of hours worked throughout a year, I believe a doctor should get paid much more than one who may cut the grass. I also believe that we should help those on welfare--instead of complaining about those who "sit on their ass all day," saying that they are taking our money, we should just help them. I know every bit of money helps, especially when living in the U.S., but I sometimes feel that we are so ingrained with having to get money from the day we are born (in the U.S.), that we lose sight with what is actually important in life to find to ultimate happiness (I also believe that this happiness lies within mostly little things each day--we live for each day--long term accomplishment coupled with minor endorphin releasing happenings make ultimate happiness). Besides, if one feels that someone should not take his or her money for welfare taxes, then they should just switch places if they think sitting on their ass and receiving money is nice. Most people who receive welfare aren't at their utmost happiness--they may be content with their simple, comfortable lives, but they will never experience the euphoric-like emotions that come with accomplishment and discovering new things or learning new crafts and helping others. There is no sense of fulfillment--so if someone wants to live this boring, drone-like life, then sure they can take some of my money--since that is not what is going to prove my worth or sense of fulfillment.

This is what makes unveiling the best form of government very difficult because it is nearly impossible to have both forms of thinking together due to the incompatible nature of each. Where one wants their own things and life, another wants to share and help the great majority. I know that is a very vague, bold statement, but I'm just trying to explain my thoughts.

Anyway, I am sure most could care less about my comments since others have mostly been arguing these thoughts for years--I mainly wanted to give a small summary of another country that most do not know much about, and to show the differences and how some things are better and other things are lacking. I just find it interesting how Norway has so much oil and is a very rich, expensive country, but we rarely hear anything of them and issues regarding other parts of the world.

I'm tired as Hell--good night world

The more these blogs continue, the more I am feeling like some journalist sent to Sweden and asked to cover my experience for some magazine or newspaper. I say this only because I now find myself taking notes in my ipod any chance I get so I can jot down certain points that I would otherwise forget. Sometimes I'll look back and wonder why I wrote some things down--I guess sounded interesting at the time, but really were pretty minor details. If I don't have my ipod, I'll try and keep a mental note, but it usually escapes by the time I come to write.

Erek and I had a pretty good past week--still finding plenty to do each day and night. The past week was our final run of camp until August. It was the annual baseball camp--We had seen and taught roughly 800 kids over the school season, but only had about 20 kids for the camp--and most were already on the team. I think we didi a pretty good job making the school camps fun and enjoyable, but getting kids from Gavle to come out to a baseball camp everyday from 9-1 during their first week of summer vacation is more than difficult. We were able to get about 6 kids that were not originally affiliated with our program--so that's a plus I guess in the grand scheme of things. It was also nice having the same group for an entire week so we could get a lot of game time since that is one of the better ways to learn everything, The last day we had a mess of water balloons and tried to play various games, and though it was a good time (it was cold and rainy)--the 120 water balloons I filled were gone in minutes.

The above paragraphs were from about a month ago. Erek and I have been busy full time painting a friend's sister's home in a local suburb. Since the weather has been perfectly clear and sunny, it has been quite relaxing. We never expected Sweden to get this hot! Us and two other guys knocked out the entire house, garage, shed, and fence in about a month. We still have most of the fence left, but hope to finish it soon. Erek and I had never painted a house before so we pretty much followed the lead of the other guys, but since it was wanted all in white, it was pretty simple. Getting used to staying steady on high ladders and three coats later, we got a lot of work completed! In speaking of never painting before, Kristoffer explained that he had painted much before in the past, and also graduated high school (called gymnasium here) with a degree focused on carpentry. He explained that here during high school, most people choose a profession to focus on for a job out of high school. It is not as popular to always go to college right after high school, even though it is virtually free. People can actually go to high school up until 20 years of age if they want. I guess we have the same thing back home, called the career center, but it is less popular among the majority. You can also choose to take classes to help prepare for college as well, but a higher education isn't always the first thought. Basically, we let him do all of the woodwork. A couple of days we had taken a break to either go to the local beaches and golf. The beach wasn't you typical East Coast or West Coast style--many rocks and stones in the water--tough to walk or swim! Also, the water tasted nearly fresh, as the Baltic barely had any salt. The beach literally sprouted from a camp site area tucked back in the thicket of the wilderness of Sweden. Large towering trees (no surprise here) riddled the back-drop and covered everything, but a decently sized, sand area. Anywhere I stepped near the woods outside of the beach, I was swarmed by mosquitoes--gotta love Gavle. Although most things in Sweden are quite expensive, golf is actually pretty cheap! Makes no sense.... We were able to hit around 40 balls and golf nine holes all for about $16. It was a nice course too--short, but well kept.

This portion of the blog is going to skip around a bit since I haven't posted in what feels like months, plus, now have a decent amount of Gevalia extra dark roast coffee charging through me. I just finished laundry and yesterday was the first day that we haven't had to be anywhere in awhile---was nice... did absolutely nothing! It became one of those days that before I knew it, it was 9pm and all I had done is messed around on the television, looked at hostels and had eaten steadily for hours. For now I am about to recollect the past month and then head down to the gym and get things together for Europe. The last big thing I talked about was Midosommar, but I never really went into any depth. Long story short, Midsommar is the period of time (middle of summer--this year, June 25th) when the sun is up for the longest period of time (the longest day). It was pretty much constant daylight the entire time--maybe became dim for about an hour or two--definitely throws off the sense of time! We were invited by a friend on the team who is from Rattvik (the most Swedish place in Sweden--the true Sweden--where people go to experience the real culture--along with Leksand), to attend the Midsommar celebration in Leksand (a town right next to Rattvik). Leksand has the biggest Midsommar celebration and Sweden celebrates this time the most in general. It is a unique celebration to Sweden, hence why it is a big deal for the people and the country. We left for Rattvik--about an hour or two from Gavle-- on Thursday night after practice. On the way, we met up with another teammate to pick up some extra beer he had in a cellar (It seemed as if we drove about an hour into the middle of nowhere--all the way deep into the North woods and found a house tucked away)-Tomas had recently gotten married and had some cases left over from the wedding, so we decided to empty them. He lived in probably the most secluded, peaceful place in Sweden (well, from what we have seen)--Such fresh air and quiet.

After picking up the beer we headed over to Kristoffer's parent's place in Rattvik. Upon our arrival, they were the nicest people. They gave us our own room in what was basically an extra guest house. Kris said that growing up, he always had people stay there in the summer since they have much extra room--must have been awesome. They are settled right in the middle of a mountain within a village that perfectly overlooks the Siljan Lake--created by a meteor long ago--post card view! They had a small area for when they had horses on their lot and another large building for storage and more rooms--great spot. Everything was so green and vibrant--I never really grasped what everyone meant back in May when they would say that everything blooms a bright green, but I learned quickly when everything became lush.

On the verge of Midsommar!

I know there is definitely m’ore to life than baseball. It is only a game we have for competition, fun, fitness, skill, and entertainment among other things. Losing is just a part of the game—it happens. It is frustrating as a player, but now even more so as a coach, especially when I was brought here to coach and help the team become better and lead them finish in the playoff race. I take it personal when we lose; therefore I was fairly upset by the past weekend. The worst part is we could have easily beaten Sundbyberg in each game—each was close until the end. I should have gotten a few more hits, but couldn’t put enough in “hit” territory. I continue to cringe even more when we hit the ball well—people we starting to come alive and hit the ball solid—even off one of the National team pitchers. I was very pleased with some of our execution with bunts and hit and runs. There weren’t too many errors—the other team hit well when they needed too. When we got two outs in the bottom of the ninth, up by one run, no runners on, and still managed to lose, it hurts. I know baseball isn’t very popular here, but a loss is a loss. We needed to win both games in order to still have a good chance at the playoffs so in that sense I feel that I have failed to do my job since that was one of our goals. I can’t control everything, but I surely should have been able to better prepare our team to reach the playoffs. We certainly have a good enough team, and if most of the guys stick around and the youth teams continue to grow, Gefle will definitely be a higher contender in the future. We still are able to win the qualifying league, which enables our team to stay in the elite series. This is very possible, and will ensure that it happens. Other than that, it was still another unforgettable time with everyone on the team.

It has been quite some time from my last post and much has occurred as usual. Camps with the local schools are now over and we have our final, week-long baseball camp (9am-2pm) coming up tomorrow. So far, Olle told us that nearly 800 kids have came through the camps this year! It is always reassuring to know that many kids have attended and that some want to attend more. We have picked up roughly 5-6 new kids on the youth team! The annual baseball camp only has about 20 kids as of now and half of them are already on the team. It is really no surprise, and should be a great time.

The weather has been much more relaxing—everyone still says that it is really cold for this time of year, but Erek and I still think they are just trying to make Sweden sound nicer than it is (lol—kidddding). Midsommar is on its way I believe on June 22^nd—the longest day of the year with 24 hr. sunlight—it already stays light out pretty much 24 hrs., but I guess it will be much brighter during mid-June. We have plans to go to Leksand where they have an overwhelming amount of people gather for festival-like activities. A guy on our team, Kristoffer, said we could stay at his parents’ place. From what I picked up, there are several dances, including the frog dance that people complete in a circle around a giant pole—sounds hilarious, but should be a great time. I guess last year they broke a world record for midsommar when nearly 20,000 people gathered and danced. Now come to think of it, there are a lot of funny Swedish traditions. If I can remember correctly, Kris and Peter said that when two are getting married, sometimes they have a celebration either before or after the wedding where the men build some kind of pole or structure in front of their house. If the wife is able to bring it down or dissemble it, then she is the one who will technically “wear the pants” during their relationship and vice-versa. I am sure not everyone participates in every little tradition, but it made me wonder what kind of things are tradition in America, especially of peculiar behavior. Although most things are different, the bachelor party I attended appeared to be quite similar.

Upon our two games last weekend against Gotenberg, Peter, Tomas’ older brother, planned out a surprise bachelor party for Tomas who is getting married in June. Upon the end of the games, we headed for the locker room and surprised Tomas with a t-shirt that said something in Swedish (they told me, but I have already forgotten—something ridiculous). We turned up the music (ACDC of course) and gathered several drinks from a stocked fridge in the back closet. We literally began drinking and playing mini-games on the baseball field. The dugout was lined with beer and liquor. I believe Tomas was quite surprised, but whether he already knew or not, he was still having a good time. As I look back on it, the police would have broken something of this gathering up within the hour back in America. We had air rifles, golf clubs, footballs, etc… We competed in a shooting competition, golf shot game, and a shot-gun beer race. I thought I at least won the beer race, but too many factors attributed to arguing and no conclusion. I supposedly had too much beer on my shirt, and spit some out another time. I am always up for another challenge haha! After much team-bonding, Irish car-bombs, and non-sense, the raggers finally arrived! By the way, during the party, we spotted 3 kids on the other field basically hitting around a baseball and catching with hockey gloves that goalies use. I found this hilarious—ONLY in Sweden. I also couldn’t believe 3 kids on a Saturday night decided to go hit baseballs—I would never expect that in Sweden! I remember doing that back home, but here I would expect to see every kid hitting hockey pucks or soccer balls. You are probably wondering what I meant by, “raggers.” They are a specific group that only exists in Gavle that pride themselves on owning old American cars—Pontiacs, Fords, Chevy’s etc… They cruise around as a club (The Gavle Hillbilly’s) and slowly drive through town with very eccentric style and tattoos. They look like bikers as they wear patched, black leather jackets, thick black boots, and usually have dark hair with piercings all over. The nicest people you would ever meet, but just have their own group and style and passion (unique bunch).

They arrived right on time to take us to a town called, Sandviken, where we would see our team manager, Mattias, play bass in an Irish band at a bar named, Mulligan’s. Peter, Oskar, Joel and I hopped into the old beaten up Pontiac, and the boat-like gargles from the engine triggered. I already knew I was in for quite an experience. We drove into town and slowly rose through the city loop two times as if to show off our rides and stare at people. When looking back on the ride, we probably looked ridiculous as we suddenly pulled over by some building and about 15 guys got out of the cars to release the heavy bladder pressure of alcohol consumption. After the quick pit-stop, we headed for Mulligans.

The drive was fool of more consumption as we had a cardboard tray full of beer—it is legal here to drink as much as you want in the vehicle as long as the driver has nothing. We arrived at Mulligans and as we entered the place seemed a bit dead. Not saying we brought the party or anything, but a large group of drunken mid-20 year old kids can definitely cause some noise. As the band played on, we broke into what we may have thought to be an Irish jig or two, but really just a mess of jumping and legs kicking. I thought for sure that I was going to go sailing into the bandstand and wreck the place. Loud singing ensued to some Irish songs that I unfortunately do not know, but just yelling at any pitch seemed to do the trick.

After what seemed like hours of music and dancing, we finally decided to cut out when Mattias’ band had finished their setlist. It was nice to finally get together with everyone on the team and join on the common bond of celebration for Tomas. When leaving, it was a collective vote that we wanted to go back to Gavle and make it some to some other clubs, but as soon as we were picked up by the raggers and made our way home, the overwhelming rush of alcohol finally caught up to everyone, me in particular. About halfway home, I had the slight dizzy twisting feeling in my stomach and head and let’s just say I know when I am not going to hold back. I warned the driver to pull over and Peter helped me with the warning, but just as he stopped, I felt all four or so hamburgers screaming to get out of my alcohol-soaked stomach. The majority made it out of the vehicle, but no one is a perfect shot with vomit, so some stayed on the seat. They were actually very kind about it, assuring me that they would be in the same position the following week so it was no big deal. Bostrom actually made a funny comment, saying that I actually increased the value of the car by dressing it with a part of me—meaning the dirtier, the better—raggers. You would think that I would have learned to hold back after experience in college, but sometimes certain celebrations still get the best of me. Damn alcohol. Oh well, it made for a much less hungover Sunday. Everyone else seemed to be passed out in the car, so I guess at least I stayed awake haha. I quickly found out the next day how good kyckling kebab (chicken kebab) was at Peggy’s, a local grill in the shopping center behind our apt. Kebab is very popular here, and it usually means a thin sliced beef (kind of like a gyro) with lettuce and vegetables and a Greek-like white sauce. You can find it either in a pita wrap or by itself, but never like the shish style like back home. People find it crazy that we do not have it back in America, at least not where I am from—it is on every corner here! Everyone apparently had a pretty slow Sunday.

Erek and I are still planning possible trips with our vacation days. We asked several people and the big ones to try and see would be Paris, London, Barcelona, and Rome. We won’t be able to catch everything, and there are so many train options that it gets pretty exhausting to plan! We would like to try and take a train for the experience, but with planes being cheap and fast, they seem like the better fare. Either way, I am excited to see the different cultures and though there is plenty to see in America, there is so much more ancient history on this side of the globe. I have got to go finish the laundry since the booking system did not track my sign-up for this week. We had to hop through the window because they lock the doors and do not allow laundry after 9 or 10pm. As long as we plan ahead it isn’t too bad, but if we miss a day or do not book the room in time, we could be stuck with dirty clothes for awhile—pretty annoying. Gotta plan for the camps--goodnight

Random Jibberish

So I guess i am now a professional blogger. I never thought much about other blogs--you know, listing ideas and thoughts--one may think, "Who gives a shit!" But after writing and posting for sometime in what began for my parents and brother has made me change my mind. If I want to write, what does it matter if people care or not--hell maybe someone will actually change their mind because of something I say or spark a random thought from something I describe.

That being said, I had a weird train of thought the other day while I was getting ready in the morning. As I stared down at my watch, I began to think how long the damn thing has lasted! It is a simple Timex Ironman watch with a nylon/polyester velcro strap. I remember finding the watch in the Atlantic Ocean when I was I think a freshman in high school. We were at Cocoa Beach for our baseball trip during a break and I stumbled upon the working watch as it shined in the blue water. I did not use it a whole lot then since I never wore a watch until about my senior year. At one point in college the battery died. I replaced the battery just a couple years ago when I began working at Fossil since I had an unlimited supply of batteries to choose from. Anyway, as I looked at the watch, I began to effortlessly think about how its life could be compared to mine or anyone else's. Who knows what journey this watch had been on to get to where it is at this point, sweaty dangling from my wrist. No matter where this thing had started its life (back in some factory) to its first store and owner purchase, to the point where it became first abandoned or maybe several times, to where it ended with me, to how it went several years with no use, to finally now using it every second I can. It is actually an easy metaphor for someone's life. One begins somewhere in this world and slowly is exposed to more things as time progresses. One may find a period of steady comfort in one area or section of life, and then go into hiding for several years waiting for the next move or break. Something may happen (me becoming a coach, needing the watch more) to bring this life from its hiding and out into the open where it is experiencing something each day. No matter where the watch ends up or travels or no matter where life guides one another, we both keep ticking, keep moving forward. Our batteries may sometimes lose the energy, but all we ever need is a re-charge or an extra boost, some event, some sort of success to pick us back up to a full cell. My watch was in hiding for a while and is now thriving each day as it is needed for camps and practices--one's life has its ups and downs, its steady use and its feeling of uselessness, and it is up to us to sometimes wait and go with what is thrown at us, and or choose to do something to discover a new energy for our cell tanks. Eventually, after years and years of wear and tear, this watch will no longer be useful unless it is completely restored, and as for the human body, that is somewhat still out of reach (living forever is still just a fantasy in case you didn't know)--so in the long run, we will all one way or another, become old and tired, worn down physically, but until that last part of our working system is broken, we can change out as many batteries as we need in life. Some are as easy picking a free battery from the store you may have once worked, and others are as hard a searching several Radio Shacks to find one very rare fuel cell at an expensive cost. Whatever your battery needs be at the moment in life, just remember that it is always available in some form or another, you just have to search the right stores. Right now, Sweden has become my battery for this portion of my life, and I hope the next few that I need are just as rewarding! It is a pretty common trend that all of us hit some form of mid-life crisis- or a period where we are at our lowest energy, and need a new battery, a new motive to follow something else. I do not know what that feels like and have not reached that "limbo-like" period of life, but I do feel that when I get there, I will find a new reason to keep ticking. I have found that trying anything different at all will some how lift myself from the steady comforts of a monotonous life. Even if it means joining some random group, signing up for a class, changing the time you wake up in the morning, the bar you frequent etc... one way or another I feel something will occur to move oneself to a new part of life, a new adventure. As long as one plays his or her cards correctly (treating others well, sticking to goals), I feel things will come about to set oneself in the direction that best suits his or her lifestyle at the moment.

Think whatever you'd like regarding this random philosophical post. You sometimes never know what will creep into your head while you are making a bowl of cereal in the morning. This watch has definitely outlived its price---you should too.

It's midnight and still light outside..I could get used to this

As I said in the previous post, Erek and I took the train to Sundsvall--2 hr N. for the Mosquito cup (youth team). Let me begin by saying the mosquitos are crazy out here!!! I guess they aren't even bad yet either--love being next to water, but it has its downfalls--I'm going to love bug spray this summer. The daylight is still mind boggling--you could practice until 10:00pm on the field if you wanted too! They say in the winter it gets dark at about 3:00pm though---that's one dark winter. Back to the train--The main youth mentor/coach, Olle, e-mailed us our tickets. The ticket prices vary all of the time, and for this trip, it costed about 145 SEK (about $18). Once we asked around played the lost American card to find our way onto the correct loading area, we found our seats. It was very comfortable--large windows, plenty of leg room--like a jumbo luxury plane. Neither of us had ever ridden on a train before, so again, we were probably too excited for such an ordinary experience in Sweden. We never had to check-in with our tickets and nobody approached us--so technically we didn't even need to pay for our ride--We later found out that they announce that we are supposed to present our tickets to the stuardists as soon as we board, but it was in Swedish, so we had no clue haha. The train ride was awesome--so relaxing--they go roughly 200 or so Km/Hr--125 Mi./Hr. It was quite smooth--felt like we were floating--no noise--almost too quiet most of the time. The scenery was breathtaking--a foggy, woodland appeal.

We arrived in Sundsvall 2 hrs. later at the station to be picked up by Olle and a couple youth players, Mersad and Tim. We proceeded to head to the school that the league arranges for every team to stay. Instead of getting expensive hotels, the league makes a deal with the local high school to allow players and coaches to sleep over night in the classrooms for no money. We all had some air mattresses and blankets and pillows--felt like I was back in camp or at a friends house having a "sleepover" like when I was 8 years old. I entered a room of chaos--13-14 year olds locked in a room for a night--can't believe I even slept! After numerous pillow fights, flatulent releases in peoples faces, candy, obnoxious jokes etc... Erek and I finally fell asleep. It is so laid back here, that even a girl on the team stayed in the same room with us. It is not odd, but if this were a team trip in America, most parents or "persons in charge" would not allow co-ed bunking. It didn't help that the curtains were not very strong and the sunlight shined in the whole night. Overall, it was a good time--we woke up the next morning and set for the field. The first game went fairly well--our team is getting much better at holding runners on and picking off players. The only thing we need to continue to improve is our hitting--still not getting through the ball enough. This game was a big improvement from the last tournament. We again fell to Leksand, but in reality, they only had one or two really good innings and we held them off for a few more pretty evenly. Though the players lost, it is important to let them know that we could have won if it weren't for a few things here and there. We have a good team--we're just not experienced enough like other teams. They still had fun though--dancing on bases, chanting out songs (MERCY MERCY MERSAAAAAD)--this team will never fail to enjoy their time. After the first game, we went to a local kitchen or restaurant in town and had lunch. Again, the league arranges breakfast and lunch for players and coaches--awesome! I soon found my love for filmmjolk (or sour milk). It sounds disgusting, but Swedes love it and though I was first skeptical, I quickly became addicted. It is basically plain yogurt, but with a slightly more sour taste---mix it with fruit spread and some cereal and it is heavenly. I bought some as soon as I returned home. I am really going to miss breakfast food from Sweden when I head back to the U.S. The second game was much better. We were expected to beat Rattvik, but after a lot of late walks and mistakes, they pulled away and the time limit expired. Although time limits are frustrating, this tournament's was much longer at an hour and a half. Again, our team is moving forward and I can't wait until we get a few more practices in before the next tournament--we are sure to win. I also found it crazy that Sundsvall has the only baseball shop in Sweden and the products they sold weren't even authentic! The Rawlings batting gloves were generically made or fake. I guess it would be just like floorball in America. Everywhere there are floorball sticks in athletic stores just like there are wiffle bats in America. Pretty much take everything that is baseball in America and switch it to hockey or floorball and that is Sweden.

After heading home, it was another week of camps. This was our last full week of summer camps for individual schools around the area since school is now finished. As usual it was more fun than actual work. On Thursday, one of our teammates, Cargis, who works in Stockholm decided to offer us a ride into town on Thursday since we did not have a camp during that day. We left early (about 6:00am), and I was surprised I was able to move after drinking much red wine the previous night over a dinner date (thanks--you know who you are!). I was able to get some extra sleep in the hr and half drive, but was unable to stay that way for long because of so much to see in Stockholm.

I gotta get to bed---ending early!!--TO BE CONTINUED...