Sunday, 6 March 2016

Schrödinger's Swede

Now I have been here for a while, I am starting to know my way around. I had a tiny personal victory moment a while ago when someone asked me for directions and I was actually able to help him out. Friends tell me I am "already turning into a Swede." Most of the time I manage to do everything here without a single problem.

But sometimes I get it completely wrong. There are rules I am not aware of, streets I didn't see before and words even the internet can't translate for me. To most Swedes I am not a Swede. I am a tourist at best, an outsider for most.

I am in a constant state of flux, switching between insider and outsider, being neither and at the same time being both. It is a weird sensation.

“I wonder if I've been changed in the night. Let me think. Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is 'Who in the world am I?' Ah, that's the great puzzle!” 

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