Skidskytte 20K Jaktstart: Världscup Östersund

This week Östersund has hosted the season-opening races of the biathlon world cup. I bought a ticket early this week for Sunday's pursuit race and have been eyeing it lustily for the better part of this last se'en-night. The days would have marched past even without any incentive on my part, but it's fun to get really excited. And the race justified it. I won't waste words, (instead I have to read Buddhismens historia by Knut A. Jacobsen) but the competition was awesome.

Checkpoint Charlie: entry to the nosebleed seats.

A random tourist got in the way when I was trying to take a picture of the sponsor of today's race.

The scene in the svenska skogen

There is something about Saab...it's a stove with two gigantic pots of soup cooking behind the logo. The racers are  climbing the hill halfway through their second lap in the background.

"Martin Foucade tar sin andra seger under världscup öppningen i Östersund!"

This is from Wednesday: I went down to the stadium a few hours before the first race. These three had the same idea. "We wanted to see the arena, but we'll watch it on TV," she explained, "You see it so much better anyway." Maybe so, but I can conclude that there is something special about a thousand screaming fans and soup-wardens in the woods that beget a special stämning--"atmosphere"--which television has hitherto failed to capture. Though rumours suggest that 3D movies might have succeeded.

Incidentally, it started snowing right as the last racer crossed the målstrecken and on the way home I got caught in a veritable blizzard. Advent 2011 is two for two for "precipitous" snow-storms.

Jamtli Julmarknaden

Today I visited Jamtli, the folk museum in Östersund for the annual Julmarknad. Of all the hundreds of vendors selling local food and crafts, one man stood head and shoulders above the rest by virtue of his craft. Meet...The Moose Farmer!

A very clubbable fellow actually--he let me take a picture of him. He was selling fresh moose-milk cheese. Each cow gives three litres per day, no joke. I can't wait to get back to Alaska...

Första advents helgen: Björberget och Jamska Ordboka

Today I stopped by the ski stadium on my pilgrimage to the grocery store to watch an IBU Cup biathlon race. It was fun to watch, despite the weather--it was really windy. Here are some pictures.

Still no real snow. It's incredible how well the organisers prepared the track considering meteorology over the past weeks,

Björn Ferry på Björnberget

I got some squashes at the grocery store to celebrate Advent. I wish I got this:

A dictionary for Jamska, the crazy dialect native to these parts. If Jämtland had an army, Scandinavia would have  a sixth language. Orlboka it's called. In proper Swedish it should be "ordbok" or "ordboken." Wonderful.

Of Reindeers & Runestones

There is a Samí culture museum just out of town that I visited last week. It's called Jamtli. Besides the reindeer, there we some really awesome Viking artifacts excavated from Frösön; remnants from the good old days. Frösön (Frös--"Freyr," Norse god of the phallus & fertility, also nomenclatural patron to our fifth weekday; "ön" island) is the island across Storsjön from Östersund. Ten centuries ago it was a Viking settlement; today there's an airport with daily flights to Coppenhagen & Oslo.  

Arabian silver-dollars. Some Vikings went West, others went Middle-east...

A thousand-year-old tapestry; contemporary with the Norman Invasion.

Yesterday I chanced upon a Viking rune-stone so I took a picture. Östersund lit by the 3 o'clock sunset in the background.

That's all I have. Sorry if the posts are comparatively meagre. I've had a lot to read & write for school. It's like this: as more prolific på svenska, then less so in The Rumpus Room. Inverse relationships are a tragic fact of life, I suppose; a stamp of the God of Justice, who demmandeth sacrifice.

Trondheimsbesøk for å treffe Nils Kristen

Last weekend I took a little vacation to Trondheim to visit Nils. It was a very nice trip. It began before dawn on platform 9 3/4 at Östersunds Västra Station. I was drinking tea from a jar through my strainer-straw--(how shall I complete thee, sweet conceit? "sucking out its vital juices while I buzzed around like a mosquito trying to stay warm in the late October morning" or "lapping up its vital nectars whilst I flutterred about like an Antarctic butterfly..."). Anyway, while I was standing there, another fellow shuffled onto the platform and mestruckup a conversation withal. Now he can say he has met an eccentric barefoot from Alaska.

He was pratsam ("prate-some") and talked until he got off. It was fun to sit by him, even though he was from Malmö in Southern Sweden and was therefore endowed with a nearly unintelligible dialect, from my perspective. I picked up bits and pieces though. He had been to Alaska once. He also explained to me that Norway is like Sweden's little brother, parading around with its oil-money & newfangled independence, striving to escape the fraternal shadow. I thought it was a funny image.

It was a nice nostalgic journey to travel westwards on the trainline because I got to see all the aulden haunts through the window as we rushed passed Järpen, Åre, & Meråker (I did an exchange at a ski gymnasium five Falls ago). Even Trondheim brought back memories since I spent a little time there before.

Nils met me at the stasjon and we had a great time. We got along wonderfully right from the start (I wonder if he thinks the same thing) and I really enjoyed being around him again. It was two years ago that he skied for UAA so it had been a while since we had seen each other. I think we'll keep in much better contact over the next two years (all in svorsk, without an ounce of English of course), before it's Nils' turn to visit. We have both changed a little but in similar ways, I think.

Nils Kristen

"Unnskyld, skulle du kunne ta en bild av oss? Tusen takk"

By fortune there was a farmer's market that Saturday.

These two got in the way when I was trying to take a picture of the chalkboard.

Hahá--I rememered to get a picture... The funny thing is it means the same thing in the context of Norse mythology as it does to the majority of our three readers.

Featuring Hanukkah, Bente Groth & Bifröst (Less Festive Than It Sounds)

This is what I wrote this week for school. Every week we have to write about certain topics, answering questions raised by books we are reading. This week we started Judaism. It will be super fun to flip through all the weeks at the end of my course. I expect there will be some progression, but I guess you never know. It doesn't seem right to check now though. In any case, here is for week forty:

1. Det är betydligt knepigt att definera vem som är jude och vem som inte är det därför att judendom går ut över en stor del av världen och innefattar flera länder. Dessutom finns det flera olika sätt att skilja mellan anhängarna och icke-anhängarna. Ska judar räknas på ett etniskt sätt, eller på ett religiöst sätt? är en tillämplig frågeställning vid den har saken. Traditionellt, om det skulle räknas på det förstnämnde, då beror det på att blir född av en judisk mor. Om frågan ska tolkas i det andra sättet, då finns det några grundläggande teologiska tror som präglar judendomens anhängare. I boken Judendomen, Bente Groth påpekar tre huvudsakliga tror inom den judiska religionen. Den första är en tro på en enkel Gud. Kristendomens trefaldig Gud räcker inte. Den andra tron som betecknar judar är en känslor av tillhörighet till “ett bestämt och utvalt folk,” som beskrivs bland annat i Toran. Den tredje kriterion är att man ska tro på att Guden spelar en verksam roll i historiens lopp; Guden påverkar mänskliga historien på ett visst sätt.Dessutom ska en jude förstås anse Toran som en sakral text, och försöka att leva i överense med dennas lagar och dem lagar som framställs i Mishna. Därmed ska en jude ta hänsyn till dem viktiga högtiderna som chanakka, rosh hashanah, och yom kippur. Traditionella ritualer som att besöka synagogan och att fira händelser som bar mitzvah är även tecken på en judisk tro.

2. Om det Israeliska folket skiljde sig från dem andra samhällena i denna historiska tid är en fråga som forskare har försökt att svåra på, även om själva judar är inte särskild intresserad i den äkta historien. För de sistnämnde är den teologiska tolkningen av händelserna som pågick i deras sakrala texter mycket viktigare än frågetecknar om deras trovärdighet. Men forskarna har hittat somliga spår som möjligtvis bevisar att det Israeliska folket egentligen bodde som en enskild grupp i Egypten. Konungen Merenptah, till exempel, lämnade en segerhyllning varpå stod orden “Israel är ödelagt. Hans säd är icke mer.” Det är inte alls klart, emellertid, vad den uttalanden betyder. “Israel” betecknar inte nödvändigtvis det berömda Israeliska folket. Därför att det finns i det området inga ytterligare spår eller tecken på denna historia än just dessa ord, de kunde egentligen beteckna nästan vad som helst. Israel kunde ha det judiska folket. Men han kunde också har varit en besvärlig drake stamfader eller någon annan art odjur, till exempel. Det låtar även som det kunde har varit någon slags ogräs. Därför, fast om historien som berättas i Moseböckerna är möjligt, det är alldeles osannolikt.

På denna grund kan man således påstå att det förmodligen inte hände på ett rent historiskt sätt. Ockhams rakkniven är en förnuftig utgångspunk när det gäller dem flesta händelser och då verkar det vara rimligt att tro istället att vissa bitar av Judendomens historia vore sant medan de största delen utvecklade sedan över åren efter att folket hade vuxit fram och etablerades. Forskare tror att hotet av ett grannsamhälle, filistéerna, var en av grunder som drev fram Israel och sporrade det folket att utveckla till en konungdom.

Efter kongatiden följde en period i judendomens historia som kallas för “exilen.” Ett annat grannsamhälle, Babylonien, hade kommit att behärska hela området och en stor del av det Israeliska folket var, lite anmärkningsvärd, tvungen att lämna deras hem och följa med dem babylonierna då de sistnämnde åkte hem. Det är framför allt oklart hur många judar innefattades i exilen, men forskare beräknar siffror att vara omkring mellan tio och en hundratusen, mestadels de mer framgångsrika delar av det Israeliska folket. Efter ungefär femtio år, den persiska makt besegrade Babylonien. Den persiska konung ansåg religion ifrån en förhållandevis liberal perspektiv och därmed tillåt judarna att återkomma till deras ursprungsland och även försätta att utöva deras religion. Egentligen valde bara en liten del av judar att lämna Babylonien och åka tillbaka till Israel. Det var i året 539 f.v.t. När de återkommande judar mötte deras släkt som hade stannat kvar, de mötte ett främmande samhälle; de två grupper hade utvecklat i riktningar som var alldeles annorlunda. Men det som är tydligt är att det var de traditionerna som utvecklades under exilen som har mest påverkat judendomens tillväxt sedan den tiden.

3. Efter en förhållandevis fredligt tidvarv, då kom seleukiderna till makten. Judendomen hade i en viss grad anpassat sig till den grekiska samhällesmiljön i det området men emellertid fick hålla på att utöva de flesta av deras bruk. Men vid konungen Antiochos IV blev läget betydligt sämre efter att det sistnämnde plundrade templet i Jerusalem på vägen hem. Juder blev naturligtvis oerhört oroliga över just det som skedde och på grund av det skicka därefter Antiochos IV en av sina generaler tillbaka till Jerusalem till att lugna folket ner. Det gjordes på ett ovälvilligt sätt. Seleukiderna skändade dem heliga platser och införde höga skattar på juderna.

Av detta läge dykte upp en kraftig motstånd bland judarna som anfördes av en människa med tillnamnet makkabi. Tillsammans med dennes bröder och en grupp anhängare, makkabierna upprorde sig mot seleukiderna. I samma året lyckades de med att ta tillbaka templen från Antiochos IVs härskning (en händelse som påminnas i judendomen varje år vid högtiden chanukka) och därefter försättade med striden under de följande tjugofem åren.Romarna kom till makten efter seleukiderna och vid år 40 f.v.t. var det Herodes som behärskade Iudaea, som området kallades under romanerna. Herodes regeringstid var egentligen väldig gynnsam för judarna Herodes hade tillsyn över att ombyggna det gamla templet varav Den västra muren är kvar idag och är förstås en av de heligaste platserna i judendomen i nutiden.Vid Herodes döden blev läget i Judea betydligt sämmre; särskilt ifrån ett ekonomiskt synsätt. I det följande tidsvarv började flera juder att förvänta sig att världen skulle sluta, eller att det skulle komma en messias för att frälsa mänskligheten Det var utifrån detta läge som inträda de tidigaste tråd av kristendomen, medan judendomen splittrade i flera riktningar Vid ett nytt regeringskifte i Rom, så blev förhållandena ännu värre och judarna gick igen i strid mot deras förtryckare. Denna gång blev följden tvärtemot det som hade hänt tidigare: på år 70 anföll det heliga templet av romerska soldaten och brändes ner till marken trots att judarna kämpade till det allra sist.

4. Vid sidan av den heliga texten som innefattas av Moseböckerna, uppstod en annan skriftsamling som kallas för midrash. Orsaken till den textens skrivelse var önskemålet av rabbinerna att få en djupare förståelse av dem berättelser som beskrivas i Toran. Midrashen är därför ett slags tolkningskrift för Toran. Ordet midrash betyder ‘leta’ eller ‘söka fram,’ enligt Groth. Skeendet var uppskattningsvis att välja ett avsnitt och utgå ifrån olika perspektiv i tolkningen. På detta sätt kunde ett enskilda utdrag få flera betydelser. Det tycker jag är oerhört spännande.

Dessutom gjorde Midrashen tjänsten av att koppla lagar som beskrivas i Mishnan med vissa berättelser och text bitar i Toran. På detta sätt skapade de samband mellan Mishnan och bibeltexten och mellan dem muntliga och dem skriftliga delen av judiska traditionen. Att göra tydliga förbindelser skulle säkert ha förstärkt lagarnas rätt och berättelsernas trovärdighet. Om jag minns rätt, finns hos kristendomen en jämförbar skriftsamling--apokryfa. Det verkar vara en betydlig skillnad emellertid i hur pass stor vikt de två religionerna lägger på deras hjälptexterna. Judar verkar godkänna sådana osedvanliga texter mycket gärnare än deras kristens motsvårigheter.

5. Ord och namn, under judendom, verkar ha fått nästan ett heligt tillstånd i vissa läge. I boken Judendomen, skriver Groth om Gudens olika namn. En av dessa namn var så heligt att det bara uttalades under högtiden jom kippur och endast av prästerna. JHVH, som namnet skrevs, uttalades istället i vardagslivet som Adonai, som betyder ‘vår Herre.’ ‘Tetragrammet,’ heter just dem bokstavarna, och nu är det oklart hur det uttalades alls; något som skapar en mystisk stämning vid sidan av den heliga stämningen som knippas med detta begripp.Det är oerhört intressant, tycker jag, att jämföra detta läge med det som finns hos dem andra abrahamiska religioner. Det skal bli väldigt spännande att få läsa mer om de sistnämnde i framtiden, men jag vet att hos Islam, Allah burde ha nittionio namn; en samling som kallas för dikr eller någonting sådant. Och hos kristendomen har förstås ‘Ordet’ ett bestämt heligt tillstånd som förkunnas just i Bibeln vid Johannesevangeliet I:I--‘I begynnelsen fanns Ordet, och Ordet fanns hos Gud, och Ordet var Gud.’En spännande tankegång hade varit att bruka bokstavar och ord som en koppling för att närma sig religion ifrån en perspektiv däri tecken och symboler skulle få den största uppmärksamhet. Gilhus skrev i boken sin att ‘Hos Eliade är människan en varelse som är orienterad mot det heliga, vilket ger existensen en djupare symbolisk betydelse. Genom symboler och myter uttrycks den universellt mänskliga dragningen mot mening och helighet’ (160). Man skulle kunne påstå att judendomen brukar bokstav och ord för att inträda i denna heliga världen som Eliade beskriver. Ifrån denna perspektiven, man skulle kunne föreställa sig språket som en övergång; en bro som kopplar den vardagliga till den heliga som gjorde Bifröst mellan jorden och Asgård.


What do you think of this?

Sex-Se'en Nights' Day

Nu har det blivit sex veckor sedan jag kom hit. Thursday was the six-week anniversary of my arrival here in Östersund. Elsewhere are recounted the details of that peculiar experience, and perhaps one of my two readers realises that Thursday ought to have been no anniversary at all. In any case, here is my profound statement for the occasion: "It's weird cause it seems like long and shorter. At the same time."


One thing that I have been surprised about is how many people from different parts of the world live in Östersund. "The middle of Northern Sweden," I thought, "nobody but old Swedes and reindeer." But, as is quite often the case, I was completely wrong. I have met people from every continent except North America and Antartica. Actually today I met someone from one of these continents. A lot of people are actually political refugees. The other day I had a conversation with a man who left Chile in 1987 because of Pinochet. He said that he has been back home several times, but he feels like an outsider there. Östersund is his home. Hiva from Iran is studying in the Social Work course at the university. It was funny cause when I first met him, we modestly criticised America just for a conversation topic (at least I think that's what we were doing--I honestly can hardly understand what he is saying). Then I had to tell him where I was from. When I said Alaska, he thought about it for a second and then the first thing he said was "Jack London...The Call of the Wild." According to Hiva, that book is world famous. Reading that book as a kid, I might have suspected that another kid was reading the same story in Iran translated into Persian. But it would have seemed crazy. And it still does, honestly.

Another thing I love about Sweden is that all the bikes are gammaldags--"olde-fashioned." They have back-pedal breaks and mechanical spin-lights.

The newspaper and radio are really high-quality. The radio maybe isn't such a surprise but Östersund produces two newspapers, both whereof would eat the ADN for frokost and have a cinnamon-roll and a plate of pickled-herring on top of it. Here's a paragraph connexion: one daily broadcast on the radio is a listener call-in program, and I think about every third listener is an immigrant to Sweden.

One thing I don't like is the Swedish city-boy habit of breaking your beer-bottle on the sidewalk to show that you've finished sucking out the juices. Maybe I just don't understand the foreign culture all the way.

Jämtlands Höstmarknaden

Underbart! Another post about markets. There is a farmer's market every Saturday in the town square in Östersund, but this weekend is a special occasion: an Autumn-market. I am told this happens only once per year. Anyway, after my net-seminar this morning, it was nice to wander through the booths and talk to the old cheese-makers.

Stortorget, last Friday in September.

There were all sort of crafts.

Dalahäster

And what farmer's market would be complete without...candy. Godis. Loads of it. It's actually healthy if it's homemade--if you mix the sugar-packs and food-colourings in a kitchen. It changes the chemistry. I'll get a Nobel Prize for that insight.

Olika ostsorter, honung, & tjockmjölk, back at home. Not pictured: some  grönsaker ("vegetables"--literally "green-things")

I love the markets because it is such a nice opportunity to chat with the various vendors. And they have to oblige since they're trying to sell stuff. Anyway, I think it gets incrementally more enjoyable every week in proportion to the tongues new nimbleness wrought of seven days' practice. 

So everything is copacetic, or skookum (can you believe these words are legal?) and will be so as long as we never run out of canned Baltic herring.

Sundsvall in Two Parts: Featuring Falling Apples & the Consistency Thereof Along with Other Appearences Including the Widow-Maker

Part I: Featuring Falling Apples & the Consistency Thereof

I’m sitting on Nabotåget, på väg mot Sundsvall, listening to two fellows in the neighboring compartment discuss the inadequacies of Newtonian physics. It sounds pretty profound but it’s not. It’s elementary, really--something about the language makes me write that. Swedish is so simple, straightforward, childlike. “I speak Spanish to God, Italian to women, French to men, and German to my horse,” Charles V is said to have boasted. To children, or nostalgic train-passengers, any tongue but svenska would not meet the grade.
I am on my way to Sundsvall because the local Migrationverk is situated there—the “customs office,” approximately, where I will be mug-shot & fingerprinted like a criminal. This that I might finally get a residence permit to become “legal.” After a month in Sweden, I think this is time to take care of this task.
What a difference a day can make—yesterday night as I was packing my shoulder-sack for an early departure, there were rivers in the streets as Storsjön’s storm-clouds wrought their watery vengeance after a whole day without drizzle. This morning, it is clear and cold. We on Nabotåget, distinctly perceived this trick of the weather as we waited for a delayed train on the windy platform at the Central Station in Östersund before sunrise. But “All things are for the best in the best of all possible worlds,” as Pangloss reminds poor readers ad nauseum. But in humour, truth—even Voltaire’s tedious Neo-Classical pedantry. Lo! The cauld maurning makes the compartment extra cozy as I slice usufructables with my Swiss-Army knife and “pensively” dip them in my tin of cinnamon (I’m doing my best to conform to academic mood of my train-car). I don’ t taste any revisionist physics in my apples—the consistency smaks more of meal than of strings (these fruits are post-prime). Does this support quantum mechanix? I wonder if string-theory can describe the clumpage of cinnamon-granules. Relativity falls short, comparatively.

Part II: Konungens Återkomst

Through the window I’m watching the red houses, horses and haybails (both normal-coloured) rush by as we roll westwards—västerut mot Östersund. It was a beautiful day in Sundsvall—halfway between two Springs. It’s never going to snow (t)here: too coastal, too windy. Actually it will snow and melt in an interminable tango of break-up & re-freezing. That’s my prediction.
I meandered like the tourist that I am, shop-hopping and asking for directions just for a pretext to chat with folks. Between my arrival and departure, I made it to Sjögatan 17 (Migrationverkets new address) to take care of business. The rest of the visit was pure pleasure. I stopped at a coffee-shop to fill up my mug, took my shoes of, and wandered on the cobble-stones. I learned that tactic to meet people: “Aren’t you cold?” “What if you step on glass?” Bare-feet are a wonderfully underrated way to meet people. I can’t help bragging (since what else are blogs for)* that the second question of two interrogative women was about my dialect. “You’re from Norrland, aren’t you? (That’s a region of Sweden) I can tell by your dialekt.”
But enough with anectdotes and trifles. Now to return to a strain of substance: Naked toes! In their goofiness, they are the conversation-pieces nonpareil; the most potent people-meeters. Who has ever looked at toes without an ensuing urge to laugh, be it at Darwin, Dios or demi-urge, or whomever’s conceit we ought to credit for it’s particular sense of fun. And maybe most remarkable of all is that everybody’s toes are hilarious in their own unique way. The ultimate administer of justice is tailor who made men (and women), for he distributes ridiculousness with equanimity! He bestows his inspiration without bias but in an infinity of permutations. Let us show our gratitude to this most eternal of jesters by exposing our naked toes, even to the elements!

How big do you think was the apple that bonked Newt- upon the sconce? The size of a kiwi or a canteloupe?

*I'd duel any man brash enough to claim a blog were something other than a plot for little plantlets of self-flattery. Pools for Narcissuses to pine over through eternal navel-gazing. Beware the hazards of bloggership. "Rumpus-room" or "Widow-maker".... Sorry for the nonesense--I have to spill out all my English word-mongery here; my journal is strictly på svenska.

På väg att besöka Christer och Ulla

Yestern, Odin'sday, mefound meself on pilgrimage by footbridge 'crosst the straight, thence to visit Christer and Ulla. They live up in the heights of Frösön in a quaint house with a beautiful view. Christer and Ulla were both very nice, and they are letting me borrow Ulla's old bike. I got to sit in their garden and enjoy a cup of tea with Ulla (Christer had to take their Sakko for a bike-ride). Christer and Ulla are Åsa's parents; she is our neighbor in Alaska and she grew up in Östersund. Thank you Åsa for setting this up! I took these pictures on the journey, since I'm of the brand of pilgrim whose adherents bear digital cameras among their belongings.

Whence

Whither

A Random Am'rican

Christer & Ulla

Christer made sure the bike was just right...

Looking back at Östersund from Frösön.

With the bike, so expand the possibilities: yesterday after dinner I got to visit another grocery store that is farther from my apartment than my naked feet are wont to ramble. There I got to look for new eats and stuff.

A comparison of the usufructables of Western Canada and Sweden

On a trip through a neighborhood near campus I observed a sorrowful sight: a majestic tree with offerings unwanted. I, with naught but compassion in my heart (and dare I say a hunger 6 inches below) came back the very next day with a proposition to the owner of the tree.

"Hi. Would you mind if I picked up the apples on the ground?"

I returned to my dorm with a backpack full of half-rotted, worm-eaten, delicious fruit.

My belly size being a limiting factor in this equation, I decided to process these apples into applesauce. I finally succeeded in convincing my RA (room advisor) to check out the kitchen key from the front desk and let me use the stove. A jar of applesauce provided enough palm-grease.

Usufructables

The persistent hunter-gatherer, I. I can never concentrate on my rollerskis (writing this out made me see the potential danger of this situation) cause on the way out I'm scouting out the gatherables and envisioning the usufruct. And on the way back I'm executing. At least I have something to show for my lack of proper focus...

This maurning's bounty. Nettles (they're super good boiled with mushrooms and salt),  blodriska, wobbley-toppes (fjällig bläcksvampar). And some apples. I didn't steal them; I picked them up off the ground--I swear. Actually they're mostly bursted because of the frost this weekend, but still tasty like applesauce inside.

Saturday at Stortorget

Today was a special day because the sun finally "cleared" up our suspicions that he had moved on to more temperate meridians and gave us one last day of sunshine. In the big market square, the Jämtlandish farmers and crafters lined up right alongside of the resident Europeans so that one could walk down the booths and end up with everything from tubers and flatbread to French scarves and paella. Needless to say, I went exclusively for the goodstuff, but that's a side note. Miscellaneous markets weren't the only events on this beautiful lördag: 

The recycling company came out to show off its bins...

The city-bus company gave free tours of one of its machines...

And best of all...

An insurance company, whose offices border on Stortorget, organised mock-biathlon races for little kids--with real bibs and (almost) real rifles. The only things missing were the skis, but they're not meant for cobble-stones & in any case the kids didn't mind.

 

Note the prodigious display of patriotism by the various vendors. These Jämtlanders are patriotic--almost seperatist.

I spent a good amount of time bummeln around Stortorget chatting with vendors and civilians. Later on, I when back to my apartment and eventualy went to bed.* And when I wokeup there was frost.

*It's possible that I didn't brush my teeth cause I don't remember doing it.

Att studera vid Mittuniversitet, Campus Östersund

This post probably should have been the first. Now that it's three weeks and one day overdue, I figured I should write it.

I am studying at Mittuniversitet in Östersund for the Fall semester. It started at the end of August and goes until the middle of January. The university has three campi (thanks for the Latin plural, Nicky). Östersund is the biggest, with just over half of the students. There are two more on the Baltic, one in Sundsvall (where I have to go one of these days to get finger-printed so I can finally receive uppehållstillstandkortet min--my official "residence permit"), and Härnosänd (where my professor lives). I am studying religionsvetenskap ("religious studies/sciences"). It is a net-course so I don't have any commitments in a literal classroom. Instead the classroom is "virtual." In some obvious ways I would like it better in a classroom setting.

BUT...the net-seminar format is the absolute hardest situation I have encountered in terms of communicating in Swedish. It's like talking on the telephone in that you can't see the other person's face and you also don't have time to look up words and carefully consider how you want to say things. But for some reason it's harder than talking on the telephone. Maybe because the topix of conversation are different (i.e. how often do you compare phenomenological perspectives of religion with cultural ones in a normal phone-call?). Because it's the hardest situation I can imagine, it is, I imagine, ergo the best to learn Swedish. "Das dich nicht umbringt macht dich stärker," as they say.

The other compents of the class are also pretty challenging for me just in terms of language proficiency. But I like it. Reading and 'riting. No 'rithmatic, and that wouldn't be fun anyway since math is the "universal language" or whatever. Every week we have a determinate amount of reading to do (half of it is in English, half in Swedish). We also have to write about it with an essay every week.

Because I don't know if my classmates actually exist, I usually hang out with the socionom students--"social work" or something. They're super nice. And I know they're real because I see them. I already got Michiel to ditch the shoes and go au naturel from the ankles down, even though it's six degrees, waining, and wickedly windy.

Den Europeiska Marknaden, Stortorget, Östersund

Here's another post about...markets! They're fun to write about and I figure they're more fun to read about than reading books about religious theorists (this is poorly phrased since many of them are atheists), rollerskiing in the pouring rain, or cleaning toilet-bowls. 

There's a market that travels around Europe like a circus, I guess. In any case, it's in Östersund this week at Stortorget. Here's the good part: they have cheese! 

Wheels of Parmeggiano & Pecorino Romano.

...And olives!

 ...& cheeseandsausage!

One cheese from this stand was aged for five years. That was funny to hear cause that means last time I was in Sweden, they were just putting into its waxy capsule. And now I'm gobbling it up.

 There were also vendors selling some pretty interesting crafts. David, a Pole from London, made effigies out of cast-iron and wine-bottles.

 You can tell vending in Sweden is hard work & sometimes you need a break. It just sucks when a camera-happy tourists decides to take a picture.