In January 2011 Marita arrived in Uppsala, Sweden, for a semester of exchange. She enjoyed it. She enjoyed it a lot. She enjoyed it so much she's here for a year now. This is what she gets up to.
Giddy Upp… sala!
Ok, in case you’re interested here’s what’s been happening. I left Melbourne at 12.30am on Friday January 14, 2011, having been delayed by an hour for some retarded reason, and proceeded to cry for the first 25 minutes of the flight, but it was nothing a COMPLIMENTARY HOT TOWEL couldn’t fix. Fourteen and a half hours later I’d watched Fantasia, Inception (ok, I get the hype. Jesus, that movie was awesome) and more Spongebob Squarepants than is probably healthy, and now found myself landing on, apparently, Tatooine, i.e. Qatar. They’re hosting the World Cup? Seriously? Is their soccer team made up of only Tusken Raiders/Sand People? (Sorry, I’ll stop with the Star Wars refs). An hour later I was definitely on a flight to Sweden. The majority of my fellow passengers were very blonde and very beautiful. Now this second flight was 6.5 hours of pure hell for these reasons: 1. Some beardy bastard took my goddamn window seat, 2. Said beardy bastard was an arm rest hog AND fell asleep leaning on me, 3. Some retard was snoring from BEFORE TAKEOFF for the ENTIRE duration of the flight. And I’m talking worse-than-Mum snoring. Dude could have snorted Columbia’s entire 2010 cocaine yield in one go with the suction he was creating, 4. Screaming children, 5. “food”. SO ANYWAY Sweden. Somehow obtained a train ticket and made my way out to Uppsala, but with no idea as to how I’d contact my assigned buddy. Never rely on the possibility of free internet or payphones. After agreeing to pay the favour forward, some dude lent me his phone, I got through to Julia (buddy) and she collected me from the station. I went back to her place, where I was able to shower (glorious), eat (vegemite) and reply to my darling mother’s increasingly panicky facebook messages. At this point I was thinking, WHYYY AM I HERE???? It was fucking freezing and DARK AT 4PM. But Julia took me out to see the town, which was absolutely gorgeous at night, and by the time I crashed I was pretty happy to be here. Oh, and somewhere in that 30 hours or so I turned 22, which was something, I guess. Spent the Saturday further exploring Uppsala with my Buddy Extraordinaire, and moved into my accommodation at Eklundshof. (Also met two American girls who were in super struggle town, as one had a broken ankle and both had a shitload of baggage.) The place I’m living is incredibly quaint and pretty, and I have a lot of space. I have too much space. My room feels impersonal so I’ve started leaving my clothes around on the floor so it looks like someone lives here. And it’s expensive. But ah well. Over the weekend I met Matt at the International Office, who is super friendly and laid back, who informed me that most of the admin at Uppsala Uni is super disorganised, so have fun getting it all sorted, but if you want anything wiped from your transcript, it’s gone. Easy. Which is useful to know… I met up with another girl from Melbourne Uni, Michelle, and visited my first nation. (OK, Nations are like mini student unions that all have their own clubs, pubs and cafes. They are student-run and are the backbone of student life in Uppsala. Everyone joins a nation.) Monday, Michelle and I went to Ikea (!!!!!!!) because things like plates, linens, potato peelers, etc. are not provided (although, Julia’s parents gave me some stuff [super buddy!], and there were already sheets in my room, that I threw on my bed, regardless of cleanliness). Had dinner at an overpriced Italian joint, from which I swear I got food poisoning, but at least I met more people. And then the Tuesday I went out on my own to find the discount supermarket, Willy’s (hahaha). That was an adventure in itself, and I bought waaaay to much stuff, so getting it home was a nightmare (hello superguns). Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday nights were all like Sunday night, i.e. dinner at various nation pubs (well, it was O-week, so we were pretty much obligated to be out of the house), meeting heaps of new people. I attended my first class (Swedish History, with a crazy Polish/Swedish professor who is prone to long, dementia-esque pauses) and the part of the uni where I’m based (Engelska Parken) is in the most stupidly gorgeous setting. There’s a cemetery next to it that reminds me of the one in Godric’s Hollow, so maybe I’ll go and try Lilly & James’ graves, haaaar haaarrrr. On the Friday night, the building next to mine (4B) hosted a meet & greet for the three buildings in our area, which was really cool, and again I met some really lovely people (finally meeting people where I live, woo!) HOWEVER at this wee gathering I had the misfortune of encountering the biggest douchebag arsehole fuckface I have ever met. But the rest of the night was superfun (we went to a nation, Kalmar, that hosted a club night where they only play Eastern European music, “Balkan beats” and everyone loses their shit). Went out again on the Saturday night to an overpriced nation club, but more people meeting AND dancing (it was kinda like a more expensive night at the Rochy). Dinner in the 4B common Sunday night turned out to be the most cost effective thing I’d done in a while. This week has been slightly quieter. Monday I had an excursion to Gamla Uppsala, which was pretty damn interesting (Vikings? yeah, they liked to cremate then bury the remains of their dead in biiiiiiiiig bloody mounds, i.e. small hills people like to sled down), then that night I discovered the joys of sculling beer before a semi-formal meeting between Internationals and the Vice-Chancellor. Tuesday I finally cooked in my little kitchen (look at me, all grown up n shit) and then yesterday was Australia Day. Met up with some Aussies who celebrated by drinking in a park and throwing lumps of ice around for some German game. Last night was the International Pub Crawl, which was a Big Night, but i did not succumb to worshipping at the Porcelain Altar, so all in all a very good night. Anyhoo, I’ve been here 2 weeks now, but it feels longer. Uppsala is a really cool place, but the winter is kinda driving me insane. The snow is crazy pretty, but the ice is death. I’ve fallen over twice and I’m shocked I haven’t broken my neck. I’ve seen Swedes jogging. WHAT IS THEIR SECRET? Crazy Swedes. Crazy, silent Swedes, who don’t do smalltalk. Until they get drunk. And then they are just straight out nuts. They love clubbing, they love drinking, they love singing. I don’t know how they can afford to do this regularly though. All the alcohol here is sold through a government-run monopoly, called System Bolaget (or Syssy B’s. Loving new slang), and it’s irritatingly expensive. So I’ve run out of things to say, or forgotten. This post has become Steve Conte-style dense. The End.
