Up to this point in our author's journey, the scenery has been completely Norwegian (with a hint of Canada and Iceland thrown in there). Now it is time to broaden your minds and journey across the border to SWEDEN!
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| Foreign Countries are AWESOME! |
This was basically the point of the entire Scandinavian adventure, Sweden. Last summer my dad's relatives from Junby came to visit us, and that was the first time I had met any of them. It was after their visit that my mom decided it was time for us to go visit them as a family. To get to Sweden we had to walk to the train station, then take a bus to the airport, and then pick up our rental car. The bus was quite the interesting time for me. I hadn't been able to get much sleep as our hotel room was right above a Norwegian club named Oncle Donald's. Yes, that is Uncle, but with an O. Anywho, my sisters and I were up late into the night listening to the American music drifting up from the club. We would've gone down to party, but we were already in bed and it just wasn't worth it. This lack of sleep caught up to me on the long bus ride to the Swedish airport. Holding my backpack tightly in my lap my eyes slowly began to close until WHAM! I jerked out of my sleep and ended up throwing my waterbottle loudly onto the floor. I get twitchy when I'm falling asleep, and I was so tired it was like twitching...but on crack. The Norwegian lady sitting next to me gave me a funny look and my entire family was snickering at me. I cheerily put my bottle back into its pocket on my backpack and proceeded to doze again...WHAM!Another major twitch sent my waterbottle careening down onto the floor. Apparently, it was even funnier the second time. Sadly I set my nice warm backpack on the floor and crossed my chilly arms across my chest. I'd been embarrassed enough for one day.
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| Ahhh if only |
When our bus finally pulled into the airport we navigated our way to get our rent-a-car. It was a Volvo. You know, no big deal, just cruising around Sweden in a Volvo. This was all new to me as I had never set foot in a foreign car before. My sisters and I squeezed into the back seat with all of our luggage jammed into the tiny little foreign car trunk. I was instantly transported back to my childhood when we were all forced to share the back seat on family vacations, and it was NOT a lane I wanted my memory to be going down. Somehow we made it and ended up in Smalandsstenar, birthplace of my great-grandfather Oscar Moller (later changed to Miller). Upon arrival we realized we couldn't find the relatives house. Since we didn't have our cell phones this proved to be very challenging, but somehow we found our way to the home of my grandpa's cousin. My grandpa could speak fluent Swedish and he kept in contact with his relatives in Sweden because he was very proud of where he came from. He took many trips to Sweden, and when my mom was 16 she got to go with him and my grandmother to visit the relatives. This was another reason we were in Sweden, she fell madly in love with the scenery and wanted all of us to see it.
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| MORE FOOD=Second Feast |
A few interesting twists and turns around Smalandsstenar later, we were at the relatives house. Upon walking in the door we were greeted with handshakes, hugs, and some kind of mesh of Swedish and English. There we were, a pack of jetlagged, bedraggled Americans in a Swedish house being greeted by several relatives and a very excited black poodle. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew (and I mean I REALLY knew) I was related to these people. The next few days passed in a blur of family reunions, trips to the old haunts of my great-grandfather, and so much food. Every time we turned around someone was standing with a plate of food in their hand and a smile on their face. We had no idea how to say "I'm full! No thanks!" in Swedish, so we had to eat it. Not that this was a severe punishment or anything, because the food was always good. The bread was fresh, the fruit absolute perfection, the coffee was so strong you felt it down to your knee caps, and the desert was just a completely ethereal experience. I swear that the food in Sweden is made with some kind of Scandinavian magic.
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| The Shloop Shloop Cast Iron Factory |
We spent 3 days with my mom's relatives exploring the many wonders of Smalandsstenar, including the Skeppschult cast iron factory. My mom was convinced you pronounced it "Shloop shloop". A fact that was disproved by the many laughing Swedes as we told them how she said it. The correct pronunciation is more like "H-Whep shult", but my mom has a Swedish speech impediment and cannot say "H-whep". She was teased mercilessly by us, and I will always remember her shloop shloop because of the cast iron Skeppschult bottle opener I purchased. We also went to the "Second Hand" store my relative worked at. The many wonders of Sweden were ours at extremely reasonable prices! My sisters and I were very excited to finally begin shopping, but little did we know the wonder that was coming our way.
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| Swedes:I'm related to ALL of them. |
Ullared is a town you probably would just drive through and not think twice about it, but they hold the most wondrous shopping I have ever experienced! Gekas is the name of the store and it is Ikea meets outlet mall, meets Target. You could get EVERYTHING there, and it was all at a reasonable price. Of course we wanted to pick up a few staples, but clothing was the key item we were after. Once we had all selected some sort of Swedish stylery, it was time for fika. This is when you drop everything and have coffee. Swedes drink coffee (and tea, but coffee fits them better) as one of their main beverages. So many traditions in my life started to make sense as I saw Swedish people drinking coffee with every meal. When our shopping was done we collapsed in a tired heap, only to be greeted with plates of food.I would tell you more about my days with my mom's relatives, but in all honesty it is a blur of laughing, Swedish, SOOO MUCH FOOD, and a lot of good conversation. When it was time to leave we were all really sad. Using the little bit of Swedish I picked up I said goodbye to Clara and Ellen, the little girls who had become special friends. I hugged the cousins, and I especially hugged the wife of my grandfather's cousin. Gunnel reminded me so much of my own grandma, I could see why they called each other at holidays and birthdays, and kept in touch with letters. Her cheery smile made each of us sad to say goodbye. We hopped into our Volvo and waved goodbye to our family members, and so we traveled on to Junby were upon we met up with my dad's relatives.
Scandinavian Adventure Part V: Roots...with a Toby!And the Homeward Journey.
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