jul jul jul

Officially done the last week of classes and things have slowed way down -- finishing up the last bits of assignments, and the others students are busy cleaning up the dorms in preparation for departure on a three-plus week Christmas break. Me, I can clean my house if I wish. Or not. We have a Christmas banquet and then the school closes until January 12. I am the only student staying in the area for Christmas.

I have no idea what to expect for Christmas. So far everything has been a (most pleasant) surprise. I've experienced my first julbord (traditional Swedish Christmas buffet), my first real month of Advent celebrations, my first Swedish Christmas desserts, and my first Lucia ceremony. 

The julbord was an very unique experience. At a mere $60 per person, you dine on cold meats, cheeses, breads, seafood of all varieties (eel, pickled herring, crayfish, and more), potatoes, pork, and of course, meatballs. The only salads were either creamy salads similar to coleslaw, or an olive pasta salad of which I was the only person partaking. We went with Martin's parents and it was an experience I won't forget! (And to those of you who know me well -- no, I did not eat eel or herring or anything that still had eyes in it.)

Advent is observed all across Sweden, by religious and non-religious alike. It is difficult to find a house that does not have Advent "candles" in their windows. (They make a killing selling electric Advent lights.) It's not an exaggeration to say that 95 per cent of the population has one or more adventljusstaken, or julstjärna (Christmas stars) in their house. Our neighbours told us about their friends who bought something like ten adventljusstaken for every window of their new home. This makes every street a beautiful, cheerful reminder of the coming of Christmas, but serves a practical purpose -- warding off the darkness. Dusk comes around 3 p.m. these days, and at times it seems that the sun has barely risen and already it sets. Depression can set in easily, but Martin says I am doing pretty well with the winter, which is encouraging to hear.

But back to Advent and Christmas. All throughout December there have been special performances, Advent singing and at church, fika after every service. (Fika is one of the best Swedish customs of all -- the best translation in English would be "coffee", except it's so much more than that.) Usually fresh bread, butter, cheeses, meats, small sandwiches with tomatoes and cucumbers, and baked goods. Most of the Swedes we know like to bake and I like to enjoy their baking. The most interesting baked good is called, literally translated, Lucia cats, an s-shaped pastry baked with saffron and two raisins. If you haven't had saffron -- it's a rare and extremely expensive spice -- it tastes pretty unique, especially baked in a pastry. People often get small smiles when I have bit into one and ask me what I think of them. Martin's cousin Erik and his girlfriend Malin were the first ones to bring them to our house, and pointed out as I tried them that they have been eating saffron pastries at Christmas since childhood, and although it's normal to them it must be very strange to me. (For the record, they are alright.)

Last weekend was also a weekend of firsts, as I sang for the first time (as an adult) in a Christmas concert and sang part of "Stille Natt" (Silent Night) in Swedish. We sang in a church built in the late 1700's, where the acoustics were absolutely astounding. (There is a point in the church where one can stand and hear, clear as day, a person speaking on the opposite side of the church. I've never experience anything like it.) Concert night saw about 400 - 500 people in the church, and I am SO glad I didn't goof my Swedish!

We also visited a julmarknad (Christmas market) in a nearby town and it was one of the loveliest experiences I've had. Martin bought freshly roasted almonds, (so hot and chewy and delicious I could have died) and we walked around looking shops and stalls in the old town, which was built up in the 1500's. 

And last, but most certainly not least, my first Lucia ceremony. This is a ceremony based on the life and martyrdom of a Christian saint named Lucia, who was tortured and killed for the vow of chastity she had made to God. (That's the short version of the story.) The ceremony now falls in December, where a young woman dons a crown of lit candles, accompanied by other children dressed in white, and carries food -- now candy -- and a blessing to people. If you have a hard time imagining what this would look like, check out this video. WARNING: It's a terribly shot video and don't watch past the first 30 seconds. I picked this video because it's the closest to the Lucia I experienced.

So, this Lucia ceremony was extra special, as staff from the school arranged with Martin to come by our house around 6 a.m. Martin didn't share this with me. The clock said about 5:45 a.m. when I awoke to footsteps in our house and singing as one, two, three, four, no, seven people filed into our bedroom singing Santa Lucia and carrying candles. They blessed us, gave us our candy, and filed out again singing, and it was one of the most surreal experiences I have ever had! The crowd included three male staff (two guys in their 20's) and one of the founders of the school who is in his late 60's. Along with his wife, and three other staff women. Now comes the exciting part. Not having been aware of all that was to come, I neglected to put on pajamas the night before! I have never felt so strange, huddled under the covers for fear something might fall out and I would be completely mortified. The two staff guys came over to bless me with their little star wands and I am sure I visibly shrunk under the covers! Check out the photo. You can barely see me and I didn't dare touch the bag of candy they put on me.

There's a little rundown of a bit of Swedish Christmas, and I am interested to see what Swedish Christmas food will be like, and how Martin's family celebrates together. God Jul and Merry Christmas!

snow

It is an absolute winter wonderland, with an inch of snow lying beautifully on every branch, bush, and twig. Beyond the scrape of my feet on the road it is so utterly still I just listen to my breathing. The sky is a black dome with curving stars and I feel stunned.

All I can think of is me and my relationship to the Creator, because I could not stand in this and think there is anyone or anything but the Creator involved. 

wind in these sails

Yes, yes, blogs are for blogging. Blogs are not necessarily an outlet for all things emotional. Every time I sat down to write, it became such emotional mumbo jumbo I eventually just gave up. 

It's been quite a journey for me these past months. It's been a little over five months that we've been here in Sweden, and definitely full of what I have lovingly coined "humps and dumps". Most surprising has been the spiritual wringer-washer experience I have had, which was something I didn't foresee. It's been really, really hard at times, but it's really good too, in that strange inexplicable way these kind of things are. 

I am enjoying school these days, having found some like-minded European girls that shower so much love on me daily. It's a daily experience for me to be kissed (quite soundly) by my Russian friend. I had no idea that I would be so grateful for this kind of feminine craziness. 

Martin and I took advantage of a few days off recently to take a weekend on the west coast of Sweden. It was a great weekend for both of us -- Christmas shopping, sightseeing, a gorgeous old hotel room, and time alone. One evening we took a walk in the dark along the coast to a historical fortress built on a cliff on the coastline. The fortress was open for us to walk inside, and up on it's walls. It definitely tops my list of things we've done together in Sweden, and as soon as we returned to our beautiful little hotel room, I wrote about it:

An evening walk through quiet, near-deserted cobblestone streets, the moon a white-gray haze behind the night's clouds. Everything is lit in a dim, pale light. The steady, low roar of the waves pounding at the sea-wall. Two fishermen work for herring with five and more fishing poles, illuminated by two lamps that oversee their efforts with yellow light. One reels in two of the tiny fish and slaps them on the stones at his feet. They flap for seconds.

The cold ocean wind rips through our clothes but it's thrilling to be standing on this tiny limb of land, straight out into the dark ocean, where everything is a shade of black or blue, and the Varberg fortress hulking over us, mysterious and ancient in the night. All it's gates are open and the lanterns lit. The mood of the place is wild, lonely, mysterious, chilling. The air is cold, salty, the wind strong. It's just Martin and I in this ancient lump of rock and arched doorways and cobbled paths, and we climb the steep, uneven narrow staircase of the fortress wall to overlook the city of Varberg, the church steeple outlined in the pinkish hue of lights, and when you turn your back to the modern world I feel like maybe the ancients felt in this fortress, standing at the edge of the known world, nostrils thick with seasalt, winding tearing at your clothes, staring out into the overpowering and awing waters.

start stop

Have started several posts and never completed the train of thought, therefore I shall try anew.

Been back in school for over a month now and I am finding a bit of a groove, I guess. More or less feeling a bit more normal with it. The first few weeks were definitely not great. Or even good. I really never thought I would feel so at-sea, so uncomfortable and stupid. Not like an adult, like a child. I never thought it would be a time of muddled frustration and despair and spiritual confusion. But here we are on the far side of a month and it's getting easier. I am definitely still having my moments where my senses are overloading with the general cacophony that is Bible school, but it's becoming more "normal".

Good thing?

Classes are getting more interesting. Definitely an interesting, challenging, and inspiring week looking at texts that have been taken out of context in many different ways and I felt a bit stunned with the realization of how many things I have (and very well still could be) taken for granted were "truths" when in fact they were Biblical concepts taken out of context. More and more I see the danger of generations of church goers like myself who don't know the Bible (really) and don't even know how to read it (really). 

I have been assigned to work on the school's photo site, and regularly post photos of school life on the site. If you want to check it out, here: www.holsby.com. 

I am taking Swedish For Immigrants (I love saying that) once a week for two hours, and although I quite enjoy the class, my language ability is coming so S-L-O-W. I feel so stupid about it. But I like my teacher and the other students (all from the Czech Republic) are very good-humored.

And Christmas things have begun to appear here... I can't believe it's already nearing the time to think about Christmas. It seems as though it could still be March and we're still just "thinking" about moving to Sweden. And here we are. Wearing slippers to ward off the chilly damp and figuring out metric and missing my mommy.

fingers, be quiet

Night comes with a vengeance these days, and with the shortened days the piles of leaves under the trees grow fat. I haven't experienced such a slow, drawn out autumn in years, with the trees turning in stages, first the poplars and the ash, then the birch and maple, and finally the oak, walnut and acorn. I can't stop stopping to enjoy the gorgeousness of the maple, with it's top and edges brilliant red and then gold throughout. I have been slipping out for 'me time' with my camera and trying with all my heart to capture the beauty of fall. 

I am repeatedly reminded of previous experiences here: here I am walking to school again, just as the sun is cutting over the treetops and the grass is stiff, sparkling, and gray with frost. The smell of wet leaves taking me back to my childhood in British Columbia. Feeling like I am reliving church youth group -- oh dear. A hallway of the school kitchen that smells like Liberia, weirdly enough. 

School is more work than I anticipated -- I have memorization, book reports, short papers, and quite a bit of reading all due in the next two weeks. The memorization is the most daunting, as I don't feel I have exercised that part of my brain at all. Admittedly, I am a bit uninspired, as so far I haven't been able to sink my teeth into something I really loved... A lot of things that I didn't really expect as part of Bible school -- "social style" profiles and such. (Yes, yes I know some of you are laughing.) I just want to study the Bible, and I am not even interested in theories outside of what the Bible directly teaches. (For those that care, an example: the theory of "general revelation" and "specific revelation". It's interesting to think about, but ultimately the Bible does not say what a general or specific revelation is, therefore do I need to know it?) And, the jargon! I really, really, do not want to use jargon. Please, if I come out of this sounding like a pompous arse, will someone tell me? 

But it's all a part of the package, and I certainly have enough to think on and work through, even in terms of just the move to Sweden. It will take a long time to adjust, and I have moments where I think will go completely insane. Martin usually hugs me during these moments, and after I have cried on the front of his t-shirt he tells me he loves me. It helps, but to be known is such a lovely thing -- it is to take for granted the gift of being known, until you are unknown.