First thing’s first

Whups. I meant to post a bit earlier. Forgive me. But life as of late has been rammmmo, jam-packed, sardined with plenty of firsts in Marissa land. I’ll let you guess.

By the end of this entry, you’ll know! Har har. Patience is a virtue, folks.

First thing’s first, I went to Budapest as you remember. If you’re listening, hip kids, this is arguably the new Prague. For those of you not hip to geography, Budapest is in Hungary. I flew to Budapest with Karl and Martin for a short reward vacation post-thesis time. Budapest was hot, cheap and captivating. It’s got the Danube River slicing it in half, essentially dividing the city into Buda and Pest. Buda’s got the castle and whatnot. Pest has, errr, the other stuff. There are also vending machines throughout Budapest and well-stocked refrigerated sections in grocery stores filled with Turo Rudi. It’s basically sweet cottage cheese rolled in chocolate. What’s not to love? Perhaps what struck me most about Budapest were its insanely elaborate doorways–each one vying to trump the other with ornament. (This artist has a series of photos documenting various doorways around the city.) There were also plenty of kerts to go around–or courtyard/garden bars. Some of Karl’s Couchsurfing friends took us to one that’s part bar/art studios/cafe/everything, all under one used hot air balloon rooftop. Also high on Budapest’s claim to fame are the presence of baths, remnants of Turkish times that exist thanks to natural hot springs. We went to Gellert Baths, where we bought admission in the form of an activated Swatch watch of sorts that served as our key cards to the bathing areas we paid for. They have thermal hot baths and all that goodness, but nothing stood in the way of me and the outdoor pool! Hoohoo! I think it’s the first time I’ve been in a pool since 2008 sometime. And surprise, every hour or so it turned into a wave pool. A fish in water is a happy fish. We also visited Memento Park, or a sculpture park in BFE, home to “saved” statues from Hungary’s Communist times. It was a bit like going to a underfunded zoo that’s slightly depressing but educational. The nerd in me got to fly my freak flag in Budapest in two ways. I got to meet an old J-school professor, Perkins, for a beer or two. And earlier that day, I went to the library! Budapest’s Szabo Ervin Library is a public library that used to be an aristocrat’s palace. This library has chandeliers, winding wooden staircases and reading rooms that used to host diners and smokers. Visitors like us had to fill out a card to even go in. To take photos, I had to sign a waiver majig, which means no photos for you. So I direct you HERE, where they got permission to publish their photos. Not kidding. Look at that spectacular shit. That’s enough of Budapest I guess. There are photos of Budapest HERE.

Then there’s been Midsommar, which more or less marks the beginning of when Swedes stop working. Most offices and such close for July, hence why I don’t anticipate hearing any news on my sambo status for some time yet. Karl’s family goes to the summer house of his mormor (mom’s mom) to celebrate with aunts, uncles, cousins, cows, trees, etc.  His grandma was born in this wee house, which the family bought in 1905. So we’re talking old. We’re talking procuring water from a well, using an outhouse, sleeping in a barn sort of old. I found it all rather endearing for a weekend though I don’t think I’d survive for too much longer than that. Me likey hot water. Me likey Internet. Every attending family member is given a task from the daily schedule (breakfast, lunch, fika, games, etc.). Karl’s duty was to create the forest round/walk, where the family divides into teams and goes through a path in the forest, completing tasks along the way. So we made them compete with water balloons, identifying objects shoved in various foods, solve word puzzles, answer trivia questions, etc. Karl had much patience with me in trying to come up with competitions, as every Swedish kid has done a gabillion of these forest walk things and I had done zilch. But now I get it. We ate and ate. We played games. We chatted. And Saturday evening when I approached the barn to ready for bed, I saw a herd of cousins all standing outside. I thought they were all waiting on the outhouse. But no! They were all brushing their teeth, because that’s how it works when there’s no running water. Everyone stands around brushing their teeth simultaneously. I did use the outhouse, by the way, which included two “holes” for varying butt sizes and/or extremely cozy couples. And while we were away, a new edition to the family was born. Karl’s older sister gave birth to her second boy, who I met the following day. He’s the youngest child I’ve ever met/touched. I abstained from holding him because I’m still working up to that. Me and my butterfingers probably shouldn’t go near people that tiny just yet.

Since it’s summer, that means it’s reduced price travel time around Skane! Surely you remember all my adventures from last summer–vodka, shipping towns, etc. Well so far I’ve been to a giant pile of wood, Nimis. It’s more than that though. It kind of looks like a bonfire on the levee in Lutcher. It’s a micronation called Ladonia. It’s a sculpture made by Lars Vilks, i.e. the man with many enemies who made the Muhammad cartoon. This wooden wonder sits on the coast of Sweden, in part of a nature reserve called Kullaberg. This lovely nature reserve, however, does not like to acknowledge that Nimis exists. But in Kullaberg, I did see my first mole! He was so blind and so cute. So blind, in fact, that he was dead. But oh well. Cute regardless. Anyway, armed with James’ trusty GPS device, we walked around Kullaberg first and then barely managed to find Nimis! We had to stealthily make our way down a steep incline of rocks down to the wooden sculpture. How to describe Nimis? Well, if I were a squirrel, Nimis would be heaven on Earth. You walk along makeshift walkways that dangle ever so scarily above the slick boulders below. With each step, you’re rather certain it could be your last without crutches. But somehow, this insane dude has made a safe and remarkable oasis from the mundane. Not wanting to make the trek back up the “mountain,” us weary travelers decided to keep walking along the coast, hopping strategically from rock to rock. I preferred this, since mosquitoes were absent and I like to leap with abandon. But after an hour or so, we decided to try to find a way back up. When we found a man lounging in rocks instead, he could tell we were lost. This stranger, this Swedish gentleman, offered us a ride in his little boat to Arild, the neighboring village we were headed for. Hurrah! The kindness of strangers indeed. En route, he gave us all sorts of tid bits about the area, like how back in the day, the other town of Molle was scandalous for co-ed bathing, so people would send their mail to Arild instead. And how the exact place we found him was once a ‘straggler port’ or sorts. Because it was hidden from the view of Arild, boats could dock there and unload various contraband goods that people hauled up the side of the mountain. There’s even a tiny house in Arild that Arne Jacobsen designed.

For pictures of Midsommar, Nimis and other Swedish shenanigans, click HERE.

As for life in general, well, it goes. I have not “met” the Swedish police. (Did you guess correctly?)  I’m spending summer in slow motion, making lemonade, perfecting my own veggie burgers, swimming, sunning, reading and trying not to fear unknown roads ahead. The garden goes as well! Do you see the evidence below? Yep, that spinach is as BIG AS MY FACE! We even hauled in a bunch of (free) pavers this week, with help from Karl’s parents and his sister, Hanna. Soon we shall have walkways. Moving on up. Yes, I’m also applying for jobs–trying for “real” ones, before embarking on applications for dishwasher, toilet cleaner, etc. And I take my Swedish course placement test in a few weeks. Then after that I should be going, somewhere, somehow. There’s plenty to keep me entertained and busy during these sunny days, with a couple of free festivals coming up in Malmo. I’ll pop back in with news in a month or so.

Until then, Happy Fourth of July! Don’t hold the punk too close to your mouth. I burned myself once that way, thinking I could blow it out. Silly me. Plus, apparently there’s poo on punks (sometimes at least)!

Click me and my spinach photos of my latest Swedish happenings. If you want Budapest photos, click HERE.

Click me and super spinach for Swedish photos.