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.
Q: How many residency permit extension applications does it take to strand Marita in Sweden for a summer?
A: Just one
I’m sitting here, it’s a lazy (read: pretty fucking boring) Tuesday night and it’s August 2. Time to watch the sky turn pretty colours and get lost in thought. Where the hell did July go? If you put it in the context of how I spent most of June, kicking around northern Europe, it’s pretty easy to suggest I wasted July, spending a lot of time doing sweet f.a. But when I applied for my residency permit extension on May 23 I thought it’d at least be here by the end of July. I thought wrong. Apparently I could be waiting until the end of August. Joy. And in the mean time, I’m not really supposed to leave Sweden. Sure, travelling within the Schengen Zone I’ve never actually had my residency permit checked, but I dunno, I just don’t want to risk getting stuck outside the country. After all, my laptop lives in Sweden. But anyway, just in case you’re curious, here’s a bit of a rundown on what you can do if you ever find yourself killing six weeks in Uppsala in the summer.
1. Move
Those of you playing at home may recall that last semester I lived at an overall quite nice place called Eklundshov. I had my own room, which was comparatively huge, and also my own kitchenette and bathroom (also huge). The setting was really pretty, next to a forest, surrounded by trees and not far from the river. My biggest problem with Eklundshov was that it was rather tame. Most of the people I knew who lived there were pretty awesome and our Sunday night common room dinners were a highlight of the week, however as the semester went on I found myself spending more and more time (whoa, pause, have to scream, explain in a sec) out at Flogsta. Which is where I am now. Yep.
My old room at Eklundshov. A bit too empty and a bit too bunky.
Yep. Flogsta. Amongst students and locals it’s a name synonymous with filthy kitchens, rooftop projectiles and general student mayhem. The main neighbourhood is a group of sixteen 7-storey buildings, constructed in the late 60s/early 70s, that sit in a figure of eight, and ten of which house students pretty much exclusively. There are two corridors per floor, and each corridor has twelve rooms, a kitchen and a little lounge bit. (Although, in my corridor there’s this weird wall protrusion and a bunch of freezers in our lounge room. Booooo.) The other buildings seem to have real world humans living in them, mainly immigrants and old people from what I can tell. Most of the buildings have some sort of operation happening on the bottom floor, eg. a pub on the ground floor of my building, kindergartens in buildings 1 and 5. Actually, that’s a scary thought. This is a terrible, terrible place for children to live. I am yet to go to a party here during which stuff hasn’t been thrown off balconies and roofs. Seriously, on Valborg someone threw a flaming couch off the roof.
Sunrise over Flogsta, taken from building 4. Meh, check this wikipedia photo, better view over the bulidings.
So why’d I choose to move here? Why’d I choose tiny shower, filthy fridge and Heimstaden when things were pretty dandy at Eklundshov? Firstly, no more bunk bed! One of my favourite things in the world is being able to collapse onto a bed, whether after a big night out, or at two in the afternoon, out of sheer boredom. You cannot do that when you have to climb six goddamn steps to get to the mattress. Secondly, stuff actually happens here. Even when nothing’s happening, once a day there’s something. At 10pm every night there’s the Flogstavrålet (Flogsta roar/scream), when people stick their heads out the window and scream/yell/roar/play vuvuzela/play trombone for a minute or two. There’s a few theories about why it happens, from stress relief around exams, to the commemoration of a suicide, but either way it’s cathartic and a good way to mark the end of predrinks. Lastly, it’s because people actually live here. Or, will live here, when they move back at the end of summer. Last semester, most exchange students I knew lived here. Most predrinks and Saturday night parties I attended happened here. If the nations are the heart and soul of student life in Uppsala, surely Flogsta is the liver, hypothalamus and stomach. Oh, also, there’s a supermarket.
My new home. As Lloyd said, after three weeks in Flogsta my room looked more lived-in than my room at Eklundshov looked after an entire semester.
2. Go to the lake.
Alright, I’ll admit I’ve only done this once, so far, but it was a pretty sweet afternoon, so it rates a mention. On Steve’s second last day here we decided to try and find out how Swedes cool down on “hot” days, so we took a bus down to Sunnersta at the top of lake Mälaren (a lake that extends all the way down to Stockholm). After a bit of walking (and perving on the staff at a summer camp) we came to a “beach”, full of Swedes of varying ages, bronzedness and levels of attractiveness. Swimming in the water was weird, owing to a lack of salt and waves but still nice, and sun is sun, so it was pretty sweet to lie around and check out the scenery (stupid, sexy scenery). I did miss having salt-crusty/beach hair when we left though.
Not only were we the whitest people there, but also the least tattooed. (Steve, cheers for the photo)
3. Do vaguely wholesome things
I guess our trip to the lake comes under this one. Ok, honestly, whenever I ride my bike anywhere, I feel wholesome. By those standards I’d probably turn into Kerri-Anne if I lived in Copenhagen or Amsterdam. But I digress. On your bike you can go check stuff out and explore better than if you were on foot. Lately I keep taking wrong turns to find out where streets lead. Curiosity can be wholesome, yeah? One day Lloyd and I rode over to the national park that’s behind Flogsta and found it had one of those Viking burial mounds (take that, Gamla Uppsala!). That afternoon also involved a certain amount of aimlessly wandering the aisles of ÖoB, a Swedish discount store, sort of like the Reject Shop. It was the first time I’d done this, but it wasn’t the last. Any time I find myself out at Stenhagen (suburb south west of here that has supermarkets, System Bolaget and other shops, including ÖoB), I always end up doing a whole heap of aimless wandering, perpetually almost buying Brio train sets and kiddy pools. Oooh and I’ve paid rent a couple of times. That got me out of the house.
Taking photos of sunset. Also wholesome.
4. Go on a booze cruise
In the first week of July, I tagged along with Lloyd and his sister, Jess, on a booze cruise to Tallinn, flaunting the Migration Board’s recommendation that I remain within Sweden lest I be stopped from re-entering. I needed to get out of the house. It was a good way to kill two and a half days, although I think it’ll be hard to top the first time I went to Tallinn, an evening that saw me drink my weight in shots (not necessarily my Earth weight). First night on the ship we watched MTV, laughed at the live entertainment, drank beer and finished the evening in the night club, which had taken its decorating cues from an aluminium can. The day in Tallinn was a bit of a struggle the first half and pretty touristy. We walked around the old town, which is really pretty, but it can get a bit boring after a while. It would have been better to spend a night there or something, but, hey, that’s how it goes. On the boat back to Stockholm we sank ciders in the sun on the rear deck, laughing at kids and old ladies with faces that resembled feline rectums. In duty free I picked up some bitch drinks (cranberry bacardi breezers? aww yeah) and the evening passed in much the same way as the previous, maybe a little more drunkenly. Biggest regret of the trip: we didn’t get around to going back to duty free and stocking up, sending us back to Systemet with our tails between our legs.
Church tower we climbed in Tallinn. Amazing view at the top. Amazing cardio work out on the way up.
5. Befriend your corridor mates. Attend their parties.
At the moment there are two Swedes, Ida and Jesper, who are actually living in my corridor, plus a French girl, Clementine, and there was also Teja from Canadia. The rest will return in the next few weeks, along with a few new internationals. Anyway, everyone so far has proved to be pretty cool and laid back and, most importantly, willing to have a few drinks and a bit of fun. At Teja’s going away party we ended up on the roof of our building, playing a massive game of cap bowl, kubb and Lloyd and I finally played the drinking game we learnt at Southside festival. I don’t remember how that evening ended, but I do recall waking up with a cheeky pile of spew on the floor. Allllll classsss.
This is what you look like if you have too much fun on a Monday night. Note the grazed knee from being shit at the German drinking game. (Thanks, Ida, for the photo)
Last Friday was Jesper’s 25th. We gave him water balloons. We made fauxjitos. (Last time fauxjitos were consumed… naked waterslides.) We had a water fight in the corridor. We sat, sang and chair danced to Ludachrist’s Bangfest in its entirety, whilst playing the swearing game. We met people who had showed up because they heard music. We sauna’d. I went to bed some time after 7am.
Fauxjitos! Don’t act like you’re not impressed.
6. Befriend people with birthdays in July.
My Swedish buddy, Julia, turned 23 and decided to celebrate by having drinks at her house in Tierp, followed by a night on the town in Uppsala. It was cool to get out of Uppsala and see the inside of a Swedish person’s house (!!), as well as being really lovely to catch up with Julia. There were cupcakes (!!!), a meringue cake that was suspiciously like pavlova, punch and drinking games, so of course it was a lovely evening, although it was a bit overwhelming being surrounded by only Swedes.
Ahh awesome birthday brownies at Lloyd’s 21st. Pardon me whilst I take the credit… *yoink*
A few days later it was Lloyd’s turn. Twenty one. Shiiit, Lloyd’s twenty first? Four syllables never so surely spelt out “hangover”. For once, the summer weather did the right thing and acted like summer weather. The night before we’d hit Systemet and I’d stocked up on the lolly drinks in a big way. It’s the colours; they get me every time. Lloyd had two friends staying from Perth, Akash and Jon, so I joined them early in the day and we got our booze on. Over the course of the day more people showed up, many games were played, we jumped to another party at Rackarberget (another student housing place), then, apparently, went to Snerikes (student nation. Tuesday night = club). Honestly, there’s a fair bit of *scene missing* and my dialled calls and messages the next day proved to be rather entertaining, but it was definitely an awesome twenty first. The next day, on the other hand… pass me a bucket whilst I think back.
Hillbilly in the corridor, anyone?
7. Get drunk
Ok, this sounds horrible, but sometimes all you want to do is have a few drinks, get buzzed and shoot the shit, right? Well, whatever. It’s something to do, and more often than not, it’s unintentional, but it’s just how the evening goes. Although, most of the nations are closed, the ones that are open have pretty sweet outdoor areas and beer gardens. I’ve spent far too much time (and money) this summer at Upplands. Particularly when we found about the bottle of champagne + three peach melbas for 150kr deal. A few quiet drinks have often ended up… not so quiet. V-Dala, Upplands, Snerikes and OG, for staying open, I salute you. Even just chilling at home with a few cheeky drinks can end up an amusing evening, possibly involving playing the Imperial March at people arriving home drunk, chasing hedgehogs and having disgruntled neighbours throw eggs at you.
Sunset drinks and dinner on the roof with Lloyd and Steve. Next thing you know it’s sunrise and you’ve watched everything on youtube. (Photo nicked from Steve)
8. Eat
and eat and eat and eat
9. DOWNLOAD ALL THE THINGS
You don’t want to know how much time I’ve spent in front of my laptop. Adventure Time. Blue Mountain State. Star Wars (all of them). Round the Twist. Futurama. The Wackness. Invader Zim. Somewhere. Night Watch. Day Watch. True Blood. Gentleman Broncos. Daria. Apocalypse Now. I could go on. I won’t. I should really italicise those titles. I won’t. Whilst spending all this time in front of the screen be sure to watch all the clips of Gir on youtube, check facebook, thought catalog, brown cardigan and tumblr incessantly, have skype d’n’ms with your mum and eat so much toast that you should surely be shitting pure vegemite by now.
A typical evening at home. The face is usually a lot happier if watching Adventure Time. Check those chins. Hawt.
10. Set cars on fire.
Well, not that I’ve done that personally, but someone around here’s clearly bored. Since I’ve moved here I’ve seen two cars set alight in the car park next to my building. Well, I didn’t see them start, but I heard it and watched them burn from my roof. I even called the fire brigade one time.
Terrible, horrible, no good, very bad photo of a car on fire
So, ahhh, yeah, that’s what I’ve been up to.
