Saturday, April 04, 2015

Swedish Holidays - Påsk (Easter)

In a 2014 end-of-year poll conducted by Gallup International, 59% of the Swedes surveyed claimed to be “not a religious person” and 17% were “convinced atheists.” Compare that to the 33% and 6% of Americans surveyed who said the same thing. That’s a solid difference in claimed religious beliefs.

Of course, you wouldn’t know it if you looked at the public holidays, which give people a day off: the Epiphany, Good Friday (known as långfredagen in Swedish, the long Friday, it seems much more fitting considering the torture and whatnot), Easter Monday, the Ascension, All Saints Day, Christmas. You get the idea. Swedes love their religion as long as it gets them a day off. That’s especially true around Easter. Påsk. Life slows down a lot this time of year. Holy Thursday often ends up being a half-day, Good Friday is a red day, and Easter Monday is a red day. Suddenly, you’re staring at a four-and-a-half-day weekend. And if you happen to be a student you get a full week off from school. Easter vacation is a one-week reprieve. This year, most Swedish schools start Easter vacation next week: vecka 15. It’s a time to go skiing if there’s snow or to clean out the stereotypical little, red cottage if you’re rich enough to have one. The Norwegians like to head to their cottages to read mysteries. They’re a strange people.

It’s a big deal then, Easter, and like plenty of Swedish holidays, the eve of the big day is a big day. Julafton. Midsommarafton. Påskafton. It might not be religious in the sense that people quietly contemplate the suffering of Christ or in the sense that people actually attend church, but there are a whole lot of religious connotations that exist, are still celebrated, and are in fact an integral part of this secular (?) country. And then there are witches. But we’ll get to that.

There are, of course, the obvious Christian connections. Jesus ate his last supper, was betrayed, was crucified, and then was resurrected. That’s the reason for the season, if you will. But then there are the little things that pop up in Swedish celebrations of the holiday that nod to the Christian faith. Or the big ones like the recent cross-carrying procession through Stockholm.

For just a few SEK, you can buy a bunch of feather-adorned
birch branches to remind you of Christ's suffering.
Jesus would be so proud.
Birch branches, for example. Påskris. You can find these things for sale all over the place in the time leading up to Easter. They are exactly what they sound like—branches from a birch tree. Stripped. In 1600s Sweden, these branches were used to pretend-flog one another so as to remind people of Christ’s suffering. By the late-1800s, people in Stockholm and the surrounding areas were using them as decoration. Finally, by the 1930s, people throughout Sweden were decorating their homes with birch branches. Today, those branches are usually sold with colorful feathers on them. It lightens the mood a little bit. Just like those colorful eggs.

Eggs are a big part of Easter in Sweden. From the colorful eggs that were once given away as gifts to the eggs that get eaten during Easter (probably because it’s around this time that the hens start laying a bunch of eggs and you weren’t supposed to eat eggs during Lent). Then there are the giant cardboard Easter eggs that are filled with candy. And they aren’t just for kids. I was lucky enough to receive one my last Easter here through work. Even adults love candy. While some people have Easter egg hunts, the big shows of outdoor hunts aren’t quite as common as in the US—this year, the police were sent to the site of an Easter egg hunt because people were creeping around searching for the eggs. Like I said, not quite as common as in the US.

There’s even an Easter bunny. But it’s of German origin and, according to Nordiska museet, spread widely through the country with a little help from the candy industry. The US has to deal with the NRA and Big Tobacco. Sweden has Big Candy.

Easter food usually consists of eggs. And fish. Lots of eggs and lots of fish. Some people eat a meal that is similar to Christmas dinner including meatballs, sausage, and potatoes, but usually the ham is not included. Instead, the focus of the meal has shifted somewhat to herring and salmon.

But none of this is all that different than what you might experience in the US. Sure, it might be a bit surprising that so many of these religious traditions live on in such a supposedly secular country, but traditions change and meanings behind those traditions change as well. What might be surprising though are the witches. Witches come out in full force during Easter. They have places to be, namely Blåkulla, and things to do, namely Satan.

Come Holy Thursday, the day that Jesus was betrayed by Judas, the Devil decides to invite in all of Sweden’s witches to a party at Blåkulla. The witches manage to get to Blåkulla by flying on oven rakes and brooms and even a cow. To hinder the witches, people made sure that anything that could be used to fly to Blåkulla was hidden or put away. A little bit of spring-cleaning, if you will. Then a cross was painted on the doors of the barn or steel was placed on the threshold of the barn to make sure that the witches didn’t come and steal any milk. They have a habit of stealing milk. Just to be sure, people would head outside, start giant fires, and even shoot off whatever firearm they happened to have handy. Fire and guns scare witches, which is why Easter firecrackers can still be found today. Just in case.

That didn’t stop all of the witches, who still managed to kidnap some children and head over to the giant party that the Devil was hosting. Once there, the party atmosphere was enough to make your local priest blush. There was drinking and eating and sexing all sponsored by Satan himself.

Today there is less sexing and more eating. Especially candy. But that candy doesn’t come free. You’ve got to work for it with a little bit of dress-up. Swedes have been dressing up as witches and heading around scaring people in their creepy witch outfits for hundreds of years at this point. It is a bit reminiscent of Christmas-time mummering or Halloween. Today, instead of your creepy neighbor or the teenager down the street, it’s little kids that are running around dressed as cute little witches with freckles and rosy cheeks painted on their faces. They might be wearing a bonnet or an apron or dress. They sometimes run around with a basket or teakettle or coffee pot. That’s where they keep the candy they collect as they go door-to-door. And if they’re super industrious little children, their Easter letters. Traditionally, those Easter letters wish the recipient a Happy Easter, maybe include a little verse or two, and colorful drawings. The letters were supposed to be delivered so that the recipient didn’t know who the sender was. Today, if they are delivered at all, they are usually handed over in person.

There's still a hint of creepiness to these witches.
Blåkullaresenär på påskafton Vänersborg. Påskkärring.
By Victor Tornberg in 1936 via Vänersborgs museum.
There are mentions of dressing up as witches from the early 1800s, and by the early 1900s, this became pretty common throughout Sweden, although the exact day for witching depends on where in the country you live. In western Sweden you’ll probably see the witches out on Easter eve. In eastern Sweden they tend to be out on Holy Thursday.

I happen to live in eastern Sweden and as I was walking to meet a friend on Holy Thursday for some dinner, I saw two witches walking towards me. They were young witches, maybe four and six. They looked to be brother and sister. Their adult representative was trailing behind them. I’ll be honest; I was seconds away from asking the adult if I could take a picture. The kids were so damn cute. And they were witches! It was like a walking display of folklore. But, because I am a 31-year-old balding man, I decided that a question like that would be creepy and unwelcome. So I left them behind and instead tried to take a picture of them from the window of the restaurant. That’s totally not creepy, right?

Because I failed as a street life photographer, you’ll have to regale yourself with pictures from the @sweden account. Below you'll find a tweet from the Easter week's @sweden—a guy named Viktor who, as a small child, rocked the witch get-up. You may have to click on the twitter pic link to see the glory that is Swedish Easter witches and note that the account is updated every week with a new curator. You'll just have to trust me that this is Viktor:
And finally, since you made it this far in this incredibly long post, it's me! As a child witch. Luckily, my mother is a sentimental woman and has saved pictures of her three boys as children. Before we were all big and bearded. It's really gone downhill in terms of cuteness since this picture was taken about 25 years ago. So it goes.
That's me on your left, ready to charm the world with my witchy wiles. 
Welcome to Sweden. And the not-so-secular Swedish Easter traditions.

If you want to read more about Easter in Sweden (in Swedish), check out Påsk på Skansen and Nordiska museet’s Påsken, which is where I collected a lot of this information.

Thursday, April 02, 2015

U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S-A!

The chant rang out as the United States took on Russia at the IIHF Women's World Championship. During group play a couple of days ago, the US beat Russia 9-2. It was one of those performances where half of the ice still looked freshly zambonied after half a period of play. So the chant was not without good reason. But I did not participate. Not because I don’t enjoy chanting nationalistically with reckless abandon (who doesn’t really?), but because it’s hard to chant when you’re laughing.

Let me be clear, I was not laughing at the Russians. That would be mean. I was laughing because the chant did not come from a host of Americans in the incredibly sparse crowd, it did not come from the families of the players, or even from Team USA employees. The chants came from a group of maybe 50 Swedish schoolchildren.

When the US scored for the first time, the entire crowd of children erupted into cheers. I wasn’t prepared for the squeals of delight. I should have known. Swedish sporting events are filled with chants and songs and loud. Just filled with loud. It’s a safe space, apparently, to scream away the silence that permeates plenty of spaces in Swedish society. Like the elevator. These kids were clearly learning the ropes early. As the celebration continued, I noticed that these kids had homemade American flags. Paper stuck to a stick. Crayons? Markers? Paint? I don’t know. But the stars and stripes were visible. And then the chanting started. U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S-A! And it was in Swedish. Scores of Swedish children were chanting U-S-A! in Swedish. It was a magical moment.

As the game continued, Russia tried to show some life. They pulled within one leaving the US up 3-2. After the first goal, across the arena a Russian fan unfurled a flag adorned with the sickle and hammer. There it was, flapping in the cold arena air. But, because Swedes are great lovers and defenders of freedom and hate communism, the children broke into a chant again. U-S-A! U-S-A! U-S-A! Also, correlation does not imply causation.

Clearly, these small freedom-loving Swedish children who save baby seals in their free time while eating bacon and petting bald eagles, willed Team USA to respond with six unanswered goals. The U-S-A! chants subsided, but the children screamed until the final seconds ticked away. And it was a good thing they did. Because the crowds were sparse. Very very sparse. This is elite hockey at a level that is hard to come by and there were maybe 350 people in the crowd. You could hear the players on the ice. That’s not a good thing.

If Team USA beats Russia 9-2 and nearly no one is around to see it, does it count in the standings?

Since heading back to the US and graduate school, I’ve immersed myself in an academic world that doesn’t always embrace athletics. I don’t watch sports like I used to. But that love is there. Somewhere. And sometimes I’m reminded why sports matter as I watch young men and women fight the NCAA for basic rights or listen as friends work locally, nationally, and even internationally to bring more attention and respect to women’s sports. I’ve watched how athletes have made a little kid’s day, I’ve watched as teams rallied around the cancer-stricken mother of a teammate, I’ve watched as sports have inspired children to work hard, try hard, fail, succeed, and realize that they can accomplish a whole lot. And then I’ve watched as former students have made millions of dollars playing professionally while others are struggling to get by in minor leagues or women’s professional leagues that don’t pay their players. I’ve watched as others willingly left the game to pursue other interests while others are racked by headaches and crippling injury forcing them to make life decisions that no 18, 19, 20-year-old should have to make. And I’ve watched them do so with grace and responsibility, something I wish that I were capable of at their age. In fact, I wish I were capable of such a demonstration of character at my age.

I’m reminded of why sports matter whenever I walk into a women’s sporting event. I’ve attended a handful of women’s hockey games. The University of Wisconsin-Madison hockey team does amazing work. I’ve taught and tutored several players, which makes me a bit biased, but I’m ok with that. They’re good. Very very good. When it comes down to it, they win championships, they send players to professional leagues, and they provide a solid number of players to various national teams around the world, most notably Canada and the US. Team USA could put an entire line-up on the ice with only former or current Badgers. The team pulls a decent crowd and has a strong following. They are one of only a couple of teams to play their home games in an arena dedicated to women’s hockey. Capacity of that arena? Two thousand two hundred and seventy-three. 2 273. The men’s arena has a capacity of 15 359. That means every game there are about 13 000 people who are missing out on the opportunity to watch elite athletes excel in a damn exciting sport.

That's the biggest crowd I saw in three days.
Team USA vs. Team Canada.
World Champions vs. Olympic Champions.
The reality is that men’s hockey brings in more money so the disparity in the arena size maybe isn’t surprising. Which is true for most sports. Of course, there are a whole host of reasons for that. Ticket prices. Sponsorships. TV deals. General interest. Systemic or institutionalized sexism. The list could go on. Whether it’s surprising or not, it’s a sort of catch-22 driven by money. Women’s sports won’t get more media exposure if there are no fans in the seats. Women’s sports won’t get more fans in the seats if they don’t get more media exposure. It’s a simplified explanation and one that does not come even close to explaining the disparities, but it’s a big part of the current landscape that sometimes results in the reigning world champion, Team USA, taking on the reigning Olympic champion, Team Canada, in front of a not-even-close-to-sold-out crowd at the World Championships in Malmö.

But this post took a strange turn from Swedish children cheering for Americans to gender disparities in sports. That’s because today, as hundreds of the best hockey players in the world are competing for the world championship in front of only hundreds of fans, Expressen revealed that Swedish channel TV4 will be the first channel in the world to broadcast an entire season of a professional women’s soccer league.

I don’t like soccer. That’s not the point. TV4 broadcasting games is a big deal. First-in-the-world big deal. Entire-season big deal. Worth-watching-because-it-matters big deal. So find a game, turn on the TV or buy a ticket and watch. Not because you feel guilted into it, but because the level of play is incredible and those women are doing things on the playing field and on the ice that you could only dream of.

Welcome to Sweden. And a reminder that sports matter. For everyone.

Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Silence @Sweden

Every week, a new Swede takes over the country's official Twitter account @sweden. It's a glorious social experiment that is largely uncensored. The account just celebrated three years last month. That's over 150 Swedes who have spoken for the country. Every week is a little bit different, but they can usually be placed in two categories: those who talk about fika and meatballs and those who talk about not talking about fika and meatballs. This past week was someone who talked about not talking about fika and meatballs. So edgy. So different. So predictable.

The curator, that's what Sweden calls them, curators, had had an entertaining week with some entertaining and interesting posts. Mostly proving how not stereotypically Swedish he was, but still, entertaining. But he really stepped up his game on his last evening as @sweden. Philip Wildenstam tweeted out the cartoon depiction of Muhammad as a roundabout dog by Lars Vilks. Like I said, so edgy. So different. But not predictable.

There have been some questionable tweets by the curators. A couple of years ago, one curator was accused of anti-Semitism. But, despite claims that Sweden stifles freedom of the press, freedom of expression, freedom of speech, all those freedoms, the tweets live on and @sweden is represented by a host of Swedes. And then that Vilks picture happened.

Of course, Vilks is the guy who has dealt with several murder attempts due to his depiction of Muhammad. Most recently in Copenhagen. He's currently being followed by bodyguards everywhere he goes and recently said to Expressen "Jag kommer aldrig hem igen. It's over."

Was it censorship? Nope. The Swede who took over the account after Wildenstam sent a few tweets, had a bio up at Curators of Sweden, and was ramping up for a week of tweets. And then something happened. She disappeared. No more tweeting and no more already extant tweets. Gone. Poof. Instead, Sweden was left with this:




It's the first time in years that the account has been quiet. But it's not quiet because someone broke the rules or because Sweden hates freedom. In fact, according to SVT and Expressen, it's quiet because the woman who had taken over after Wildenstam was so nervous of being attached to the cartoon by Vilks that she chose to leave the account. This even after Svenska institutet chose to delete the tweet in question. SI specifically stated that no one broke any rules.

That's especially true because Wildenstam claims the cartoon was tweeted out in context. A context that focused on freedom of the press. There's probably some sort of irony in there somewhere. I don't do irony. Obviously.

So why does this matter? It matters because there's an ongoing discussion throughout Europe after the Charlie Hebdo attacks and the #jesuischarlie movement that popped up across social media. There's an ongoing discussion about what freedom of speech means. There's an ongoing discussion about the consequences of allowing all forms of speech and of not allowing all forms of speech. There's an ongoing discussion about the ways in which everyday life has changed in Europe after Paris and Copenhagen (although that discussion was short-lived or non-existent after the terrorist attack in Oslo and Utøya island back in 2011. Probably just a coincidence though.)

But it also matters because there's a lot of misinformation floating around. The @sweden thread was filled with accusations of censorship and rumors. For an account that has been so incredibly media savvy, groundbreaking, and damn cool, it was a surprisingly awkward way of handling the situation. Aside from the tweet above, there's been nothing in English to explain the sudden inactivity. And that's not good, because for an account that aims to reach non-Swedes, the Swedish language is a bit of a barrier. Which leaves over 83 000 @sweden followers staying tuned. For something.

Welcome to Sweden. And Twitter silence.

Thursday, March 26, 2015

Peer Pressure, Pictures, and the Swedish Periphery

I climbed down the stairs from the back of the plane. The sun was shining, it was cold, but not Arctic Circle cold. Except it was. I was north of the Arctic Circle. As I walked across the tarmac, careful to not get sucked into a jet engine, I noticed people stopping. They pulled out their cameras and their phones and their tripods. And they stopped. I slowed down, looking around. Was their something worth photographing? A moose loose perhaps? Or a bear on a tear? Perhaps a fox wearing socks? Instead, I saw a plane. The same plane I had flown in on. Trees. The same trees that I had flown over. And snow. The same snow that had been blackened by the exhaust. And the smell of exhaust hung heavy. It smelled of diesel and travel. That didn’t stop people from posing in front of the plane, from taking selfies. From taking groupies (Samir and Viktor would be so proud). From taking pictures.

I am not a good photographer. I get nervous and embarrassed and rush the process. I hate taking up space, stopping, being seen seeing something. So I rely heavily on other people, watch them take a photo, and then stand in the exact same spot and try to take the exact same picture. It’s probably a sort of plagiarism. Except that mine usually end up out of focus and off kilter. I kept walking, but slowly now. My strides shortening, wondering if I was missing out on something. Was this a thing? Taking pictures upon landing? I reached for my phone, pulled it out, considered stopping and joining the crowds. The pressure to conform is heavy. Maybe they knew something I didn’t. Instead, I just texted my friend. Made it.

Turns out this is a thing. At least a thing in Kiruna. My friend, living there for the year with support from the same grant as me, travels in and out of that airport regularly. And there’s always someone taking a picture at the airport. Maybe it’s the northern latitude. There aren’t a whole lot of people living so far north. Maybe it’s the appeal of the margins. The periphery where few people have ever been. A thing to take back home and say look, look at where I’ve been. The outskirts of civilization as we pretend to know it. Ignoring, of course, the history that has endured so far north.

Those doors remained closed to the likes of me.
You can't just wander through the Ice Hotel.
There’s plenty to take pictures of in and around Kiruna. There are the flat forests slowed by the short growing season. There are the dog-sled crossing signs (fun fact, the Sámi used reindeer to pull their sleds, not dogs. Dogs are relatively new as a form of transportation.). There is the mine rising above the landscape casting a shadow over the city and reminding people of its presence with nightly blasts. There is the Aurora Borealis part of the year. There are the folks traveling through town on kick sleds. There are historic buildings that are set to be moved, or destroyed. There is the Ice Hotel. And the Ice Bar. And the Ice Church. And the Ice Throne. And the Ice Sculptures. There are old wooden churches and newer wooden churches. There are works of art, everywhere.

And I took plenty of pictures. Bad ones. But pictures. They’ll sit on my computer in a folder and pop up every now and again when my computer tries to sleep, my screensaver reminding me of the places I’ve been. The places I’ll go.

There is also an airport. It is small, nondescript, and filled with tourists heading to the Ice Hotel. There will not be a picture of an airport on my computer screen. I resisted the crowds. I’m my own man.

Welcome to Sweden. And peer pressure.

Monday, March 23, 2015

Swedish Relationship Advice

After a breakup a couple of years ago, a friend took me out for a drink. She was in a relationship (and is now engaged. Woo.) and was ready to offer me some dating advice. She didn’t have much of it, but it was good advice. Never send unsolicited dick pics. It’s advice I didn’t need, but advice that I have followed nonetheless. No one wants to see that.

But lots of people still want to see pics. Especially ones that show folks in various stages of undress. Of course, consenting adults do consenting things sometimes. That’s fine. But those pics get tricky. On your computer? On your phone? At home? That’s your thing. It’s private, it’s personal, it’s yours. There’s a time and a place for pics and just because your phone might be private when you’re sitting on our couch, doesn’t mean your phone is private when you’re out and about.

The kid was sitting on the bus. He was in the seat in front of me. I had walked right past him, climbed into my seat, sat down, swung my backpack onto my lap, and begun my commute. Phone out, he was staring intently. It was one of those big phones, with a screen that screams, look at me! So I looked. Cute woman. Maybe 19, 20. She was playing with her cat in a short video. He scrolled past the video. Snapchat photos appeared. Short little messages. Hearts drawn over the picture. Cute. I went back to staring out the window. The resting commuter face of boredom and apathy.

I glanced down at my neighbor again. The young woman had, in a relatively short time, removed her pants and begun dancing, while filming herself in the mirror. Now there were two of her. The amount of clothing between her and her reflection was probably not enough to cover one of my legs. And she danced and danced. And he watched and watched. And then he flipped to the next message. This one just a picture.

Fifteen seconds hadn’t even passed, but at this point, I was feeling uncomfortable, embarrassed, and incredibly creepy. So I turned my attention to the cityscape chugging by. Soon enough I’d be on the subway. Soon enough I could bury my uncomfortableness in the silence of the subway. Soon enough years of American prudishness could melt into the blue seats of the subway car. A minute closer to the subway station and, in what can only be termed one of the most lopsided trades since Patrick Roy was unloaded to the Colorado Avalanche, the dude snapped a selfie, wrote a short note, and replied. Thankfully, he did not remove his pants on the bus so that he too could dance provocatively while filming himself.

They were both old enough to be legal. Which, being Sweden, means you’re barely a teenager, but still, legal. They seemed to be doing this because they wanted to. That’s fine. Consenting adults in a relationship. Whatever keeps the magic alive. But some things are best left at home. In the privacy of your bedroom. Or kitchen. Or living room. Or really anywhere you are that isn’t described as public. Like public transportation.

Welcome to Sweden. And another piece of dating advice. Don’t look at your partner’s pics on public transportation.

Thursday, March 19, 2015

Moving to Sweden - Most Common Jobs and Salaries

Sometimes when I get bored, I start searching for answers to life’s burning questions. Why am I here? What did I do to deserve this? Who is Luke’s father? Why does my eyeball make a clicking sound late at night? You know, normal, everyday questions.

Then, having exhausted Google, I usually end up trying to answer questions I get about moving to Sweden. Half the time, I don’t have any idea what the answer is. And by half the time I mean all the time. Lately, I’ve had a lot of people asking me about moving to Sweden. Mostly about housing, but sometimes about cost of living, salaries, money stuff.

I’ve been working as a graduate student for several years now and haven’t had a job in Sweden since 2010. Not being an active member of the Swedish workforce got me thinking though. What does a member of the Swedish workforce actually make?

That’s not an easy question to answer, obviously. There are a lot of jobs to choose from. Luckily Sweden tracks everything. Everything. So with a little help from Statistiska centralbyrån, I was able to identify the top 30 most common occupations in all of Sweden as of 2013, the most recent year for statistics. It’s an interesting list that even breaks things down by gender. Fun fact, 99% of carpenters and joiners are men. That’s a solid 47,455 men. But 93% of assistant nurses and hospital ward assistants. That’s 162 840 women.

Finding out the most common occupations in Sweden is fun, but a wise man once said “Show me the money.” I’m joking. He wasn’t wise. He was kind of a dick. And he was in a terrible movie. Anyway, if you’re going to work, you deserve to be paid. Turns out though that if you’re a woman, you’re probably not going to be paid as much as your male counterparts. Of the 30 most common jobs, women earn more than men in four of them. Only one job has an equal monthly salary and nine have salaries in which men only make 1 000 SEK per month more than women. This isn’t a post about gender equality in the workforce or the wage gap. That’s a thing that exists. We know that. It is interesting to note though that for the 1 169 684 women in the top 30 jobs in Sweden, the average monthly salary is 27 830 SEK. There are only 769 808 men in those same jobs and they are pulling in a cool 29 333 SEK per month.

There's plenty of fun information in the chart below, but it is really just meant to give you an idea about general salaries in Sweden. It’s good to know what you’re getting yourself into if you get a job offer, whether it’s because you want to negotiate a better salary or just budget a bit before your move. Because I was interested in the top jobs and the average salaries, I pulled from a few different queries and so the spreadsheet below is a static image of information you can find on SCB:

Most Common Swedish Occupations as of 2013 with Average Monthly Salaries
Click to enlarge.

I’ve included SCB’s own translations above, but included the occupation code in case you want to change the parameters of your search. There’s plenty you can do, although most of it is in Swedish. Want to search by occupation title (in Swedish)? Want to search by region, sector, occupation code, gender (in Swedish)?

Welcome to Sweden. And working all night and working all day to pay the bills you have to pay.

Looking for more information about moving to Sweden? Check out the rest of the series below:

Moving to Sweden – What to Bring
Moving to Sweden – The Swedish Language
Moving to Sweden – Finding a Place to Live
Moving to Sweden – The Metric System and You
Moving to Sweden – Getting a Cell Phone
Moving to Sweden – Getting from the Airport to Stockholm City
Moving to Sweden – The Weather
Moving to Sweden – Swedish Citizenship Test
Moving to Sweden – Public Holidays
Moving to Sweden – Finding a Job
Moving to Sweden – Culture Shock: It's the Little Things
Moving to Sweden – Making Friends
Moving to Sweden – Cost of Living
Moving to Sweden – The Laundry Room
Moving to Sweden – Marijuana