Living the life in Uppsala, Sweden

Her name was Lorin. She came from Sweden. Not that I would have expected a Swede to be shy, but Lorin managed to reveal most of her fascinating life story to me in just couple of days. She spoke about her school with such enthusiasm and pride that I spent an awful lot of time trying to figure out how to apply and enroll as a student there. With only a few weeks left until the start of the new semester, everybody, including myself, thought it impossible for me to enroll so soon. Nevertheless, I learned that it is always good to try.

Believe it or not, after some paperwork and grade conversion business, the head of the IB program, and the nicest person in the world, Sven, replied and told me that I could start at his school as an international student that semester. Excitement and happiness flooded my mind; my heartbeat a little bit faster but there was a tiny bit of worry hiding in the back of my mind. I knew that there was not going to be a host family waiting for me like a year ago in Michigan. In fact, I realized that I would not know anybody and the Viking language seemed too difficult and strange to teach myself.

Her name was Lorin. She came from Sweden. Not that I would have expected a Swede to be shy, but Lorin managed to reveal most of her fascinating life story to me in just couple of days. She spoke about her school with such enthusiasm and pride that I spent an awful lot of time trying to figure out how to apply and enroll as a student there. With only a few weeks left until the start of the new semester, everybody, including myself, thought it impossible for me to enroll so soon. Nevertheless, I learned that it is always good to try.

Believe it or not, after some paperwork and grade conversion business, the head of the IB program, and the nicest person in the world, Sven, replied and told me that I could start at his school as an international student that semester. Excitement and happiness flooded my mind; my heartbeat a little bit faster but there was a tiny bit of worry hiding in the back of my mind. I knew that there was not going to be a host family waiting for me like a year ago in Michigan. In fact, I realized that I would not know anybody and the Viking language seemed too difficult and strange to teach myself.

Even though I was pretty sure that nothing would ever beat America's overwhelmingly friendly people, I was pleasantly surprised to see a tall, kind, man smiling from cheek to cheek while waiting for a stranger at the airport. Sven was holding a cardboard sign with my name spelled correctly -- as opposed to how it was misspelled in America. I quickly decided to forget about the cold-hearted Swedish stereotypes and I am thankful to Sven for helping me with everything from the very first moment. He officially calls himself Zuzka's Swedish dad now. Although a supply of the Tatiana chocolates might have motivated him to that end.

When I arrived in Uppsala, I pretty much got the same warm impression as from my arrival at the airport. My first few days, when I didn’t know anyone or place, were a big adventure. I did not mind getting lost because it led me to discover that not all Swedish people are tall, blond, with sky-blue eyes, as they had said at home. Furthermore, I wondered at the charm of these old-school Fjällräven backpacks with a fox logo that everybody wore and I was truly amazed by the number of bikes everywhere. Later on, my friends told me that you could even spot them in the river as some of the students find it fun to recycle them this way.

Smart or not, Uppsala is proud of its students who attend the oldest university in Scandinavia.  Uppsala University consists of many complexities and offers a wide range of degrees. The students even have a day to celebrate themselves and show their pride on last day of April called Valborg, when the students let their fantasy run wild and create small boats from all kinds materials that they can get hold of. Their goal is to stay on their boat while cruising down the Fyrisån river. Fortunately this is not usually the case as many of the boats crash and the students fall into the cold river --this is when the crowds start cheering the loudest. Do not get the Swedes wrong though. They usually are very nice and principled, especially people in school on a typical rainy Monday morning.

Katedralskolan, or “Katte”, has a bit of a history of its own having been established in 1246. In the late 16th century, the school had a not-so-inspirational pupil called Gustav Eriksson who grew tired of studying, drove a dragger though his books and cursed the teachers. We did forgive him though, as he later became Sweden’s first king: King Gustav I of Sweden. Some other cool folks that went to Katte are Svante Arrhenius, who chemistry students might recognize from kinetics lectures, and Niklas Zennström, the co-founder of Skype, who anyone with a friend or two far away may appreciate. The school today is of course a bit different from what it used to be, although we still have many smart brains. The students are divided into different programs such as the sciences, humanities and International Baccalaureate (IB) which I am a part of. In addition to choosing six subjects from our interests, there are other classes that IB students need to attend in order to receive a diploma. One example is the Theory of Knowledge class which has started to convince me that Mathematics is a beautiful and elegant subject (even though we are still not best friends). The core of the school system is built on the responsibility and independence of students,which is a very good step in the preparation for university. Interestingly, in Chemistry and Biology, we get to design and conduct our own experiments. It is extremely challenging at times, but the feeling you get when the data recorded supports your hypothesis is worth it. Or the results may turn out completely random, in which case it brings much more fun to your work – although you still need to explain why.

So I no longer believe in shy, miserable Swedes. Although, I am not surprised that they sometimes do not jump out of bed with excitement in the morning considering that they get an unsatisfactory five hours of light in winter. But they still leave their cozy, warm, houses to sensibly ride their bicycles in two meters of snow and are never late to where they need to be. Obviously there is a lot of dedication and hard work going on, but they still do everything with style and grace and I truly wonder at how calm, relaxed and not bothered they can be with so much going on. Not to forget that they are the most polite and patient nation that even queues to get a number to be in a queue. No rush, hurry or stress. They know how to live their lives to the fullest even at the slowest speed.

Sometimes, however, I have to question their common sense when they use the word lagom, for instance. The confusing translation is something like: not too much, not too little -- I guess you have to be a true Swede to know what it really means. Another curiosity is the strangely salty candy-- Swedish licorice – or, alternatively, the fermented fish – surströmming – whose smell you do not want to imagine.

It might take a while to open up a Swedish not-so-cold heart, but when you succeed you will have a friend that will stick with you for the rest of your life. If you have not done so already, make sure to put Sweden on your list of places-to-visit. Also, do not hesitate with any coincidences in your life;
they can provide a whole spectrum of alternative perspectives which help you see the world with new eyes when you come home.

by Zuzana Pagáčová

Year 1, Issue 3