Necessity is the Mother of Invention

Previously in this blog I have raged against those English speakers who live here and don't speak the language. After a good few years here, I realize this was grossly unfair. 

Sweden does not provide an ideal language learning environment for English speakers. Necessity is the mother of invention, and in many situations it is simply not necessary for English speakers to learn Swedish.  

If English speaking immigrants have some kind of technical, IT or 'international' job where the product or line of work is basically 'in English', then English becomes the go-to language. Employers might recruit heavily from non-Swedish residents to fill these positions, in which case English naturally tends to become the lingua franca.

For bar jobs you would have thought interaction in Swedish would be essential, right? Nope. Swedish is often not a requirement. Wander into any Irish or English theme-bar (especially in Stockholm) and you'll often find an English speaker behind the bar who can't manage anything but the simplest Swedish. I remember the time I started speaking Swedish in a pub and was told "we don't really speak Swedish here". 

My first reaction  — which was judgemental and unfair — was to condemn these immigrants as arrogant, lazy and engaging in some kind of cultural colonialism. Whilst that might possibly be the case for a rare few, I don't believe this applies to the vast majority. 

The truth is that Sweden itself is to blame for this state of affairs. Sweden sets the requirements that immigrants fulfill. 

In France you need French, so you learn French. It's a requirement. End of story. In Sweden, this is simply not the case. In fact, you can even become Swedish without speaking a word of the language (although the government finally agreed that there would be a language test for citizenship in 2019 and aimed to put forward a proposal in October 2020, but I imagine the pandemic pushed it down their To Do list!)

I personally feel that if you work in a bar in Sweden, you should be able to converse in Swedish. But who cares what I think? I'm not the one doing the hiring! If the employers really cared, then it'd be a necessity. It ain't. So why blame the employees?

I am thankful I had a reason to learn Swedish — my father-in-law didn't speak English, so I had to learn to be able to speak to him. Without that, I'm not sure if I would have learned. 

Coffee and Winter

Coffee has a different meaning here in Sweden. A whole other context.

The desolation and darkness of winter never fails to affect me. The absence of birds feels like more than ⁠just absence — it's as if winter killed them all. Wiped them out. Not a single peep comes from those bare, twisted branches.

Winter's darkness is a joy-killer. It goes for your heart. It is not oppressive. 'Oppressive' would be something. It is pure, unrelenting, merciless Nothing. Lack. Void. 

To combat that, you've got to bring out the big guns.

Coffee here would likely power a battleship.  Makes your British and American stuff taste like dishwater. The comfort and warmth it brings is a lifeline. A charm. Evokes Frodo clinging desperately to the Light Of Earendill in the spider Shelob's lair.

"May it be a light for you in dark places when all other lights go out".

What IS and What SHOULD BE

Alla har lika värde. Everyone has equal worth. 

In Sweden most people take this as a universal truth. Everyone has equal worth. We should all be treated with respect as human beings. 

As a Britisher I sometimes feel a knee-jerk reaction against this. Nice sentiment, but what does that have to do with the harsh reality? 

The Swedish, on the other hand, reel off their values about human rights and equal worth as if they are physically existent. As if they were as real and solid as their own bodies. 

And what does it matter if the reality doesn't match the ideal, they claim. It SHOULD, that's the main thing. It SHOULD.

As I've already mentioned, to my British heart this attitude can sometimes seem obtuse and childish. The British are far too realistic (cynical, some might say) to listen to such idealism without referring to the ever-present cold, cruel reality: the ultimate arbiter. In fact, gleefully crushing what is seen as misguided optimism has become a sort of national sport. It allows you to elevate yourself by asserting your own wisdom and seniority. Grow up kid, the world is hard. Deal with it. Game, set, match.     

Yet the Swedes stubbornly maintain their idealism. Things SHOULD be better. They SHOULD. 

The British do not get as far as SHOULD. They are stuck on what IS. What IS is what IS is what IS. That's just the way it IS. End of story. Forever and ever, Amen. 

Even the leftists in Britain don't have a true faith in what SHOULD be. They seek change, yet ultimately most of their energy is locked into an all-consuming rage against the suffocating, omnipresent, immovable, unconquerable, undeniable weight of what IS. After all, they live in Britain. 

I have left Britain. I have left the land of "That's the way it IS". I live in Sweden. Childish, obtuse, hopeful Sweden. The land of "That's how it SHOULD be". 

You can call me a fool, but I prefer it here.  

Winter Greyness

This country is full of clean lines and pale surfaces. In summer it is shining, reflective and fresh. But in the deep darkness of winter this stylish paleness turns a dull grey. It is then one yearns for a bit of colour. 

No Local Radio

There seems to be almost zero local radio here. Strangely enough, I've found I miss it.

It seems ridiculous that I miss such local broadcasting as live Christmas tree lightings and ice cream eating competitions. But the value lies in connecting the people with the place. Local radio is the rambling, jolly voice of a community. I miss that voice. I have searched for it here, but all the broadcasting lacks a sense of place. Apart from the occasional news flash the broadcasts could be from absolutely anywhere in Sweden.

So I'll continue to get my fix from Radio Oxford, Manx Radio, and various carribean islands through the magic of apps. Yes, I'm a freak...I enjoy  broadcasts from communities to which I have no connection!

Against the background of an increasingly international media I maintain that there's something deeply comforting — something unique — in listening to a person speak about the locality their broadcasting from. It makes me feel I'm really there with them, wherever they may be.

The Magic Opening Doors of Sweden

Don't expect people to thank you when you open a door for them in Sweden. Because they won't.

It doesn't matter how big the group is, how many people pass through, how much you smile. You can hold that door till your arms drop off and the hinges rust.  

Not a peep. 

I wonder if Saint Peter has this problem at the Pearly Gates. Perhaps he simply chucks these freeloaders off his cloud, smiling beatifically as they hurtle towards eternal damnation. Which I would completely understand.

But rarely, very rarely, it happens. Oh happy day! It's like a four leaf clover or a pot of shining gold at the end of the rainbow. Praise be! Suddenly the rest of the day is all smiles and sunshine, so powerful is this rarest of occurrences.

Treasure those moments, for they are truly golden.

Perched On a Wire

It's ironic a country with such a purportedly high quality of life forces huge swathes of its city populations to live like migratory birds. That's just the way it is here. It's an endless cycle: your contract ends and you move.

Rinse and repeat.

Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs names shelter as a physiological human need. You could argue that the temporary nature of accommodation in Sweden creates an ever-present, underlying sense of insecurity.

We are birds perched on a wire, always ready to take flight.

Hello How are You?...WAIT, WHAT, HUH?!

Some things are so deeply ingrained in English culture that it can take years to realise they clash with Swedish culture.

For instance: saying 'Hello, how are you?'. This is something that as an English person I don't even give a second thought to. It's as natural as breathing.

Not so here in Sweden.

The 'hello' bit is no problem. It's the 'how are you?' bit. In the U.K you aren't expected answer this question with the truth. Nobody wants to here how you're actually feeling, they're just saying hello! All that is required are three words: 'fine thanks, you?'

But in Sweden they really think you want to know how they're feeling!

So for years I've mistakenly been making my colleagues feel harassed by asking them how they are straight away the moment I see them. No sitting down first. No preliminary chit chat over coffee or the weather. Just TELL-ME-HOW-YOU'RE-FEELING-THIS-VERY- SECOND!!!

Understandably they always look a bit flabbergasted, as if I've walked in with a rubber chicken tied to my forehead. Multiple questions race through their mind: How do I feel right now? Do they really want to know how I am? Am I supposed to ask them how they are? AGGGGHHH!  

Because in Sweden they just say 'Hello'. That's it. Nothing more. And if they actually want to know how you are, then they ask you.

I've learnt lots of Swedish, but despite that knowledge I've been inappropriately greeting everybody for ages!

Ah well, you live and learn!

Swedish Course: Svenska Som Andraspråk

Discuss language and power. In 120 words or less summarize a 20 minute video of a lecture on sustainability in small-scale fishing communities. Hard? Too bad, you gotta do it in Swedish!

These are some of the assignments I’ve faced in the Swedish course "Svenska Som Andraspråk 1" ("Swedish as Another Language 1" or “SSA 1”). SSA is a bit like an A-level and is split into three courses: SSA 1, SSA 2 and SSA 3. After SSA 3 you can study subjects in Swedish at university.

The assignments seem designed to push you above the ‘plateau of comfort’. You’re never going to reach that higher level by chatting about the weather. Describing more complicated, nuanced subjects requires a matching language. The best way to write and speak at a higher level is to have a reason to do so. SSA assignments provide that reason.

The course is offered for free by the local council and all the material you need is online. I’m studying a ‘flexible’ version of the course, meaning I have the option to go in and physically watch lectures etc. Most of my questions are answered by a teacher via online message. The software is easy to use and you can even download an app for it.

The pattern for the course is pretty simple. There are four modules, and at the end of each module there are one or two assessed assignments. At the beginning of  each module you have to study the course material that helps you complete the assignments at the end. At the end of the course there are also some tests.

I’m enjoying the course. Completing an assignment means you get a sense of accomplishment. I get the feeling my learning is far more focussed than when I was simply absorbing whatever I could in my day-to-day life. The assignments of the course provide the challenge and focus I need to take it to the next stage :-)  

Swedish: The Monosyllabic Machine Gun

Swedish is a nice language, but at times it reminds me of a machine gun salvo or somebody with severe Tourette syndrome.

Take this sentence: "Det är bara det att det inte sker några mirakel" ("The thing is that miracles don’t happen"). Is this a sentence or a kid impersonating the sound of a rapidly-firing Kalashnikov? "Det-det-det...YOU'RE DEAD I GOT YOU!"

"Det" is one of those multi-purpose words that makes some Swedish sentences sound like Porky Pig with PTSD. “Det” means "it", "that" and "the" depending on usage; so it ends up creating sadistic 'sailor's knot' sentences that drive learners looney tunes!

Det det det dats all folks!

Cash in Sweden

There's no cash in Sweden. Hardly anywhere takes it. It's like there's some anti-cash taskforce hellbent on eradicating it. There's so little cash that even beggars take "Swish" — direct mobile-to-mobile transfers. 

I paid in cash recently and got a coin in my change. Wow, a coin! It's a 5 kronor, shiny and new and minted in 2016. I would have preferred it scuffed and scarred, but beggars can't be choosers (actually, they chose "Swish"). I hold it up to the light, flip it, eyeball the markings.  My coin isn't even nice — all it's got on it are three splodgy crowns. The metal is thin and light, like toy money. I suppose Sweden makes their money so boring that everyone just sticks with card....nice, observable, traceable card. So safe. So clean. So...easily monitored. "Good show" say the kill-the-cash bureaucrats "Break out the light beer Lasse, cash is down by five fucking percent! HURRA!"     

But a coin is something hard and real. It's not just 'blip-blip-gone'. You can flip it, slap it into your palm. Just for fun. 

I'm keeping it. Those fuckers aren't taking it away from me! 

Murder-loving Swedes

Swedes love murder. Discussing murder weapons and motivation is something of a pastime.

I find myself ill-equipped to wade into this gory reservoir of shared knowledge as my in-laws effortlessly compare cases. Swedes seem to discuss murders joyously, as if they were part of some quaint who-done-it series rather than harrowing, real-life events. Of course when it comes to the news we all do this to some extent. It's just the concentration on murderers and serial killers that seems a particularly Swedish preoccupation.

   

Murder just isn't my forté, so I usually wait it out.

But on one occasion I fessed up in a desperate attempt to change the subject: "Wow, you guys love murder. I don't know any of this stuff!".

A brief pause. A few awkward shuffles. Some suffering smiles.

Then it's back to murder! :-)

Spit It Out, Sweden!

Meetings in Sweden are...different.

First of all forget about decisions being the most important part of the meeting, 'cos that's history muchachos. 

This is Sweden.

First, it's customary to have a lot of small talk, bring in a coffee and laugh a bit so we're all friends. 

Eventually the reason for calling the meeting is reluctantly invoked. The aim of the meeting itself is often loosely defined in the style of "let's-vaguely-talk-about-this-rough-topic-till-we-collectively-attain-a-mind-melding-Eureka-moment". 

AND LO! THE SWEDISH COVEN DOTH CONVENE! 'Tis time for the most sacred 'Sharing of All the Opinions of Everyone'. 

Progress. Is. Slow. 

All opinions are supposed to count equally (irrespective of job roles) and most organisations have flat hierarchies, so no one wants to take the lead (that would be displaying too much authority which is anathema to Swedes). 

Everyone is probably feeling a bit uncomfortable at this stage, what with all that potential conflict hanging in the air like some dark, malignant cloud descending ever closer to poison everybody’s Fika Funtimes. 

And after all, everyone's opinion has been expressed. So something's been achieved, right? 

So that's enough, surely? Decisions can wait. Far safer to put it off to the next meeting. Scheduling the next meeting is accomplishment enough. The Wheels of Corporate Democracy have turned. Job well done!

Ah look, it's fika time! :-)

Brexit and Freedom

Freedom of movement in the EU is about freedom. It is personal. It is where you can live, where you can work, who you can meet, who you can fall in love with and who you can stay with. 

It is this freedom that Theresa May and the UK government are trying to curtail at this very moment at the talks in Brussels. These negotiations will decide how Brexit will affect EU citizens living in the UK.

Donald Tusk spelled it out by saying it was obvious that May aimed to reduce the rights of EU citizens in the UK

My wife is Swedish. I met her in London, and at the time I was living in a flat with an Italian, a Frenchman and a Spaniard. This was after graduating from university when I lived in a flat with a Frenchman, a Greek and a German. It is the Europeans that have opened up my horizons and made me see how interesting life can be.

It is these same people who are now being made to feel isolated and unwanted by the actions of the UK government. This is not the UK that I grew up in. What the UK government is proposing now in Brussels is thinly-veiled xenophobia to appease their right wing UK supporters. It is petty, small-minded and harmful. A suggestion from Theresa May could actually make it impossible for me to return to the UK with my wife. What is the motivation behind such a rule? 

Not only that, but there are proposals that EU citizens must be fingerprinted and apply for special ID cards, symbolically marking them as second-class citizens.

It feels like the UK government  is sending a message to EU citizens, both within and without the UK: that they're simply not welcome.

But a lack of Europeans won't do anything to change the increasing inequality in the UK. There will still be those Etonian toffs running the boo-hiss pantomime parliament in that Victorian country known as 'Great' Britain. 

But I think this is a turning point. I think this is a step too far. When a government's idea of sovereignty is to start telling people where they can live and who they're allowed to live with, people start getting seriously pissed off. The game is getting old now. The same rhetoric that garnered right-wing support is about to change the course of millions of peoples lives and alter the faces seen on British streets for years to come.

There is opposition. I only hope it is strong enough to resist these ludicrous demands and lessen the fallout of this messy separation. Or even better, avoid it altogether!

Let me Off!

Maybe it's a Gothenburg thing rather than a Swedish thing, but people don't seem to let you off the tram here. Everyone piles on before you get out! And they wonder why you shove them out the way!

Very weird, considering the obsessive 'queuing culture'.

Pubs in Gothenburg

People often say it's expensive to go out in Sweden. 

Actually Swedish bars sometimes have cheaper beers as well as expensive beers — beer can be cheaper here in Gothenburg than in Oxfordshire! Your basic stor stark (5%+ beer) can be found from 35-39 kroner in some places. Gothenburg is the home of Swedish micro-brewing, so wherever you go there'll always be a good quality selection of (far more expensive) craft beers. I heartily recommend the Tullen bar chain - cheap and tasty Swedish food and cheap beer, plus hundreds of more expensive 'classy' beers. 

There's also a few cheap beer places in Vasa too. These places seem to be sort of 'basement bars' that are sunk below street level, yet let in a little light. From the outside they look a little foreboding, but I suppose it's OK when you get in there (I don't think I've been in one yet, gotta give one a go).

If you don't mind paying more but want a bit more atmosphere, I would take a look in Sejdeln ("tankard") on Andra långgatan. This is a Czech place with good lager and classic rock music on the stereo, and true to its name you can buy beer in massive tankards - up to a litre! Swedish bars can sometimes be a little too bland and overly modern, lacking character. Sejdeln has charm precisely because it's a bit rough round the edges. Weirdly, this is the bar that reminds me most of English pubs. It doesn't look like an English pub, but it definitely has its own identity.

Near to Sejdeln on Andra långgatan you've got Kelly's. The stor stark is cheap here, and they serve cheap pizza too. It's a slightly weird place: they have big framed photos of celebrities and artists everywhere (I once spent 2 hours there chatting to a friend in the shadow of a massive David Bowie photo, which was spooky!). Despite the name, there's no Irish connection!

I should mention that near to Kelly's and Sejdeln there's a strip club. This doesn't mean this is a seedy neighbourhood: everything is mixed together on Andra långgatan! The strip club is in fact next door to a 'Save the Animals' place! 

On Storgatan there's a 50's rock and roll bar called Skål. This place serves cheap stor stark  (Norrlands Guld) and even cheap wine at Happy Hour. It's a nice little pit stop to while away hours chatting and listening to good old rock and roll. There's also loads of events going on throughout the week: an open mic, a pub quiz, karaoke and even Pokemon Go Tuesday (whatever that is!).

If you like playing music in pubs Restaurang Västerhus on Karl Johan's gatan is a loveable dive with a very popular open mic (every Thursday) and a lively 'bohemian' music scene. There's also SS. Marieholm, a pub restaurant on a massive boat that hosts a big blues jam every Saturday. If you fancy folk music there's Haket in Masthugget, which has an open Irish session every other Wednesday hosted by TIMSIG ("Traditional Irish Music Sessions in Gothenburg").  

Well, that's enough for now. There might be a follow-up to this after I explore more of Gothenburg!

Carola Craziness

There is a magical moment in Swedish parties when the music of Carola comes on (Carola is a Swedish national treasure who had some massive hits in the 80s). 

Carola is particularly adored among women of a certain age. When a Carola tune comes on at a party these ladies just let loose: singing as loudly as they can and with total abandonment! It's a sight to behold. It's like they're suddenly back in their childhood, singing Carola tunes into their hairbrush-microphones and dancing in front of the mirror! 

I have to admit, Carola is pretty catchy! :-). 

Swedes Being Reserved

After you live here a while, you start noticing that Swedes seem quite reserved. 

At first it's hard to put your finger on, but then you begin to recognise the signs. Like how their everyday speech is peppered with a "little" this and a "little" that. It's always a "little"— as if they distrust the use of intensifiers. As if they're demonstrating their restraint. They're sensibleness. Swedes rarely exaggerate. 

This makes Swedes seem boring to Brits and American people, who tend to exaggerate desperately in order to elicit some kind of response from Swedes and assert their own individuality. 

But strongly emphasising your individuality is a faux pas! It can be seen as showing you are better than someone else (a serious no-no in Sweden!). It can make you look flashy and imprudent. 

So as Americans and Brits happily machine-gun their audiences with gloriously inflated, half-baked theories displaying their dazzling flair and charisma, Swedes will visibly start backing away. As if they find such comments generally distasteful, but are willing to indulge you. 

After all, you're 'not from around here'. 

Dirty and Dirty!

I got a funny look the other day when I said (in Swedish) "they were a bunch of dirty old bastards". 

My friend said "uh...do you mean they were covered in dirt? I think you mean something else". 

I then asked her for the correct word, which rhymes with the word I mistakenly used!

Smutsig means dirty as in "They were covered in dirt". 

Snuskig means dirty as in "He was a dirty old git!".

Swedish, that ain't fair! It's like you're trying to confuse me! ;-)

More Brits become Swedish After Brexit!

One of the biggest uncertainties when it comes to Brexit is the rights of Brits abroad.

It's no surprise then that more of us are becoming Swedish!

According to this article, the number of Brits applying for Swedish citizenship rose from 441 in 2015 to 1521 in 2016. 

The trend shows no sign of stopping in 2017 as the first 2 months of this year saw 328 Brits applying for Swedish citizenship (it's normally only about 30 a month).

I myself will apply for Swedish citizenship as soon as I can. 

Might as well play it safe!

Sami Blood

I have been interested in the Sami (the indigenous people of northern Sweden, Finland, Norway and Russia) for a while now. 

Recently I saw Sameblod (or Sami Blood in English). It's a Swedish/Sápmi language film about a teenage Sami girl called Elle-Marja who grows up at a time when the Swedish state were forcibly trying to integrate the Sami through compulsory education. Elle-Marja and her sister are sent to the nearby Swedish school, where the children are forbidden to speak Sápmi and must learn about Sweden and Christianity. Representatives from the state use the enforced schooling as an opportunity to take unpleasant biological measurements (at that time the prevalent belief was that the Sami were less intelligent, 'low-born' humans). The film tracks the Sami girl's life as she tries to navigate the two worlds and the situation she finds herself in.

The film forces Sweden to face a dark side of its past. My wife and I were deeply affected by it. I couldn't speak for half an hour afterwards (I had a frog firmly lodged in my throat!). 

The thing that stayed with me was Elle-Marja's sense of otherness: her feeling of being alone and self-conscious. 

The lead Lene Cecilia Sparrok received the youth prize of 5000 Kroner and a diploma from the Såhkie Sami organisation, who said "She is an enchantingly good example for other young Sami with her pride, her language and her courage to try new things". 

The Sami have had quite a bit of media attention in Sweden of late. Recently there has been a TV drama called Midnattsol , a documentary called Renskötarna ("Deer Herders"), a documentary about the Sami artist Sofia Jannok and a song with joyk (traditional Sami singing) just came third in Meolodifestivalen (the national competition where Sweden chooses its Eurovision song). 

My wife said she was taught nothing about the Sami at school, so it's good that some information is getting out there now!

Swedish Reggae

I watched a great programme on SVT about Swedish reggae. Here are the points I found interesting!

Swedish reggae started when a man called Peps Persson heard Bob Marley's music and was inspired to start singing reggae in his own Skånska Swedish dialect. Peps and his band released an album called "Hög Standard", recognised as one of the first Swedish reggae albums.

In 1981 Bob Marley died of cancer. To honor him, a band called "Kalle Baah" put on a remembrance festival in the tiny town of Skärblacka. Skärblacka is now known as the 'the Kingston of Sweden', and the festival continues to this day. The band went on to begin the studio and production company "Blacka Music", which is known for the special 'Skärblacka' reggae sound. According to one of a group of Skärblacka youths interviewed for the documentary, people in Skärblacka "live, breathe and shit reggae". Skärblacka is only known for two things: reggae and its stinking paper factory. 

One of the biggest reggae festivals in Sweden is currently the "Öland Roots" festival, which is known for it's nice, community-friendly atmosphere. "Öland Roots" stole the title of biggest reggae fest from "Uppsala Reggae Festival", after it was driven to folding due to (according to the documentary) an undue amount of attention from police and authorities concerning drugs. But according to their website "Uppsala Reggae Festival" will return to Uppsala later this year!

Another 'reggae base' in Sweden is apparently Göteborg, where there is something of a homegrown reggae scene (although I'm having trouble finding it!).

Keep skanking!

Passport Pickiness

As I am writing this my Swedish wife and I are sitting in the waiting room of the Passport Office. We're waiting to update my wife's passport. We are number 152 and the electronic counter currently reads 122. A while to go yet!

Kids are starting to go slightly loopy as the boredom sets in. Their parents frantically attempt to appease them with books, games, mobile phones...

In the UK you can do the whole process online or by post. But here in Sweden the photo must be taken in person at the Passport Office on a special machine, so that it's properly standardised. 

I can't help thinking that although the UK produces less 'standardised' passport photos, at least you don't have to spend ages in a waiting room!

This seems to be another classic example of excessive Swedish bureaucracy, where the need to do things 'properly' overrides all other considerations (even efficiency!). 

The waiting continues...

I notice an old man with an enormous white beard. He is reading a newspaper dated 1961. He looks at me with sleepy, ancient eyes. Then he turns back to his paper, scratches his balls and settles in to continue his long wait.

I'm going to be here a while... 

All Aboard the Beer Boat!

  









Here in Gothenburg people 'ride the Beer Boat'.

Stena's Denmark ferry goes between Frederikshamn in Denmark and Gothenburg in Sweden. Loads of people use it to buy alcohol on the boat at reduced prices, then ride the same boat straight back to Gothenburg without stepping foot outside the Danish terminal.

And we're talking some serious stocking up here! You see them strapping on huge boxes of beer and spirits to hand trucks with bits of bungee cord. Then they're wheeling their enormous loads down the gangway at Gothenburg terminal, lumbering like mastodons and trying not to pulverise small children.

And then it's time to PARTY! :-)

Wild Boar Takeover!

There's a baboon in the White House and now wild boar are taking over Sweden!

Multitudes of the hairy hogs are seriously damaging crops and projections suggest their numbers will continue to rise over the next ten years.

Why not make the best of it and start keeping them as pets? 

"OK fetch the stick boy, fetch the stick! No, not my LEG! NOOOOOOO!"

Dreaming in Swedish

You know how they say dreaming in your second language means you're making progress?

This happened in last night's dream, which was straight up wacko! My wife and I somehow have a newborn baby without her being pregnant. I ask her how this happened and she just says "don't worry". I worry. I'm walking in the street with my wife and the 20-minute-old baby in my arms. The baby says "Jag tycker om att sjunga" (I like to sing) and starts singing like a lark. "Sofia, our 20-minute-old baby can talk Swedish and sing!". "Don't worry" says my wife.

I worry.

Then we come home. As we step through the door an identical twin of the baby I'm holding springs out of nowhere and both infants start ninja fighting round the living room at lightning speed. Then in slinks a loser-drunkard claiming to be the father of the other twin baby and starts whining that Sofia should take him back. I ask my wife "Sofia, what's going on?". "Don't worry", she says. Then I wake up.

As you can see, my 'second-language-dreaming' is most likely in its early stages — only a small part of the dream is in Swedish.

But now and again there's more Swedish in my dreams. Like when I dreamt I was the star pupil of a Swedish class!

Well, why not?

English Killing Swedish?

English appears to be killing Swedish.

Alright, maybe not 'killing', but English has at least given poor Swedish a mild concussion.

Because Swedes seem to be ‘losing words’. Literally.

Younger Swedes tend to use a lot of English in everyday speech. The more they use an English word the less they use the Swedish one, thus weakening their 'Swedish' memory. It's a vicious circle!

Aside from taking English words wholesale, there's also a huge amount of anglicising​​ going on in the Swedish language itself. 'Swenglish' seems to involve 'Swedifying' an English verb (eg. to hint = att hinta) or adding an extra letter to English adjectives so they fit within the Swedish grammatical system (eg. cool = coolt). This kind of 'Swenglish' changes the very fabric of Swedish.  

I’m not a fan of this. But if Swedes themselves don't seem care about English taking over, then so what?

Well, in fact it turns out some Swedes do care.

According to this article written by Swedish and Dutch professors "English has caused worry amongst preservers of the Swedish language. One of the biggest worries is that English is taking over in certain areas, particularly research and higher education in biology, medicine and science..."

The article then goes on to mention Språkförsvaret” (‘Language Defence) who basically say that in Sweden many core areas — such as business, university, the media and adverts — it is English and not Swedish that is strongly represented and that this is seriously damaging Swedish: “Why is it that English spreads at the cost of Swedish?...We contend that the many different languages in the world have an intrinsic richness...it needs a grassroots movement to defend the Swedish language”.

By contrast there are those who believe that if languages die off it was ‘meant to be’. This is the view of British comedian David Mitchell, who in this video claims languages simply die out ‘naturally’ due to “natural selection”  and not due to the “actions of Man”.

This is total rubbish. Rachel Nuwer points out in her BBC Future article that "Languages usually reach the point of crisis after being displaced by a socially, politically and economically dominant one...". How are these political, social and economic conditions brought about, if not by the actions of Man?

I also disagree with Mitchell's rather ill-thought out 'it's-OK-because-languages-die-off naturally' sentiment. Anthropologist and linguist Mark Turin explains how this popular "Social Darwinism" argument is rationally unsound: we invest money in bio-diversity and protecting animals, so why not invest in human diversity by protecting languages? In his words "why should it be that the one thing that makes us singularly human shouldn’t be similarly nourished and protected?”

In the aforementioned video, Mitchell claims it is “not the end of the world” when a language dies out. He’s wrong. It is the end of the world — or at least a world — because that particular way of seeing the world is lost. Each language reflects what that culture holds dear. Its hopes and its fears. We are not USBs, we do not simply dock and transfer data. Language is so much more than that. It is not merely the communicative tool of a people. In a way, it is a people. It is an integral marker that distinguishes a people and expresses their identity.

So I hope Swedish policy makers and broadcasters listen to the general message of ‘Language Defence’ and make Swedish more visible. At the moment it feels as if some authorities and companies are treating Swedish as a second class language. And having listened to beautiful songs and read wonderful books in Swedish this particular Englishman wholeheartedly and fiercely contends that it most certainly is not.