Category: Culture

Prawn pig out – a Swedish concept

Posted on by Neil Shipley's watching the Swedes

  
This week I had what can only be described as a very Swedish experience. With friends, I participated in a ‘shrimp cruise’, also referred to as a ‘prawn pig out’. 

It works like this. You board a boat and, as it chugs around the archipelago, you eat as many shrimps as you can stomach. The menu consists of shrimps, aioli, bread. You wash this down with wine, cocktails and beer. Then there’s cheese and coffee. As you peel and pick away, the gastronomical treat is accompanied by a live band playing very loud music of a varied nature – rock, pop, country, Eurovision. I guess it’s to appeal to a wider audience. 

On this particular prawn pig out, there were about 50 passengers. And they were as eclectic as the music. Young couples, middle-aged couples, former party girls, pensioners and a gang of work colleagues from what seemed to be a construction company. Despite our differences, we all had one thing in common – a love for all-you-can-eat shrimps. 

I can’t exactly describe this experience as classy. But it was actually fun. And very very Swedish. 

Top 12 Swedish Summer Songs

Posted on by Neil Shipley's watching the Swedes

  Yesterday I wrote about Thomas Ledin’s ‘Sommaren är kort’ and it got me thinking about other Swedish summer songs. So here’s my top twelve. And, as I hate Thomas Ledin’s song, it doesn’t even make the list. 

12: ‘Sommarnatt’ (Summer night) by Snowstorm. A song in which the singer ‘cruises along through the darkness in his giant machine.’ Classic uncomplicated Swedish lyrics. 

11: ‘Sommarsången’ (Summer song) by Siv Malmkvist. With lyrics like ‘and I want to sing that butterflies are good’, it just has to make the list. 

10: ‘Ta mig till havet’ (Take me to the sea) by Peter Lindblad. ‘The sand is moist, and the woman is young, crazy of longing am I’. Swedish summer sin at its best. 

9: ‘Sommar, sommar, sommar’ by Sten Carlberg is a little ditty that is synonymous with Sweden’s popular radio program ‘Summer on P1’. Summer is about ‘sun and blue skies’ but it slowly dissipates like a dream. 

8: ‘Midsommarnatt’ ( Midsummer’s Night) by Eddy Meduza. Dance band summer to which we ‘dance the whole night long’. 

7. ‘Sol, Vind och Vatten’ (Sun, wind and water) by Ted Gärdestad. An elementary song about tanned legs, high mountains and harbouring secret romantic longing. 

6: ‘Magaluf’ by Orup transports us to the tacky Spanish coast and sings of parties, alcohol and seagulls laughing until they are hoarse. 

5: ‘Our last summer’ by Abba. No list of Swedish music is complete without one of theirs. This one takes us to Paris and romantic walks along the Seine with boring banker Harry. 

4. ‘Så skimrande var aldrig havet’ by Evert Taube, sung by Lill Lindfors. (The sea was never this glistening). A fantastic romantic song by folk legend Taube about summer’s, and maybe life’s, first kiss. ‘The sea was never this glistening, nor the beach this liberating. The fields, the meadows and the trees were never this beautiful, nor did the flowers smell so sweet’. 

3: ‘Sommar’ by Kayo. A jazzy mellow song about the loss of summer with the loss of love – ‘there’ll never be a summer, there’ll never be sunshine, or jetties or mosquitoes – not without you.’ 

2: ‘Sommarkort’ (Summer picture) by Cornelis Vreejsvik. My favorite Cornelis song which captures summer in a melodious song – ‘let’s take a picture of children in the summertime as they dance – a moment on Earth’. 

1. ‘Summer sun’ by Koop. Rhythmic and cool, this song transports you to beach parties drinking rose wine and feeling the light breeze of summer – ‘Midsummer sun your love’s divine, never before have I met your kind.’

Baby we’re burning – Swedes, songs and Satanists

Posted on by Neil Shipley's watching the Swedes

valbiorg

This weekend, the 30th April, in Sweden is Valborgsmässoafton. Yes, another one of those long indecipherable Swedish words.

This one translates as Walpurgis Eve, and is a day enshrined in tradition not only in Sweden but in other European countries such as Germany, Holland, the Czech Republic, Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia and Finland. Rather Baltic in other words.

The name ‘Valborg’ is from an English Saint but, despite that, this isn’t really a religious celebration. It’s more to do with the welcoming of spring, and feels rather pagan actually. In the evening on Valborgsmässafton, Swedes gather around huge bonfires and listen to songs. These songs are in the form of traditional choir music designed especially for this occasion to shake off  the nasty dark winter and celebrate the burgeoning buds of the lighter season.

And like many traditions in Sweden, this one also has a rural origin. These bonfires are part of a Swedish tradition dating back to the early 18th century. On this day, farm animals were let out to graze and bonfires lit to scare away predators and other evil beings. This is rather ironic as Walpurgis Eve is also an important holiday in Satanism at it marks the founding of the Church of Satan.

But religion aside. On Walpurgis eve, I am watching the Swedes watching the flames, listening to music and looking forward to the spring and summer months ahead.

We survived another winter, and summer is coming!

Sweden’s Pink Thursday – washing and witches

Posted on by Neil Shipley's watching the Swedes

jesus feet

Today, the Thursday before Easter is called Skärtorsdag in Swedish. As the word ‘skär’ translates as a shocking pink colour, many people joke that today is ‘pink Thursday’. But the word ‘skär’ in this case relates to something else – something far more biblical.

The word ‘skär’ is an early Nordic word meaning clean and pure. And here, we see a parallel to the English word for ‘Skärtorsdag’. In English, today is called ‘Maundy Thursday’ and it relates to the religious rite known as ‘the maundy’ which involved the ritualistic cleaning of feet. According to Christian belief, today was the day that Jesus performed this act until the recipients had clean and pure feet. It also is the day of the infamous Last Supper.

However, in Sweden today, ‘Skärtrorsdag’ is not celebrated in any great religious fashion but in a pagan manner. A old pagan belief in Sweden was that on this day witches would mount their broomsticks to fly away to the legendary mountain known as Blåkulla. At Blåkulla it was believed that the devil held his earthly court. There the witches celebrated their sabbath and danced with the devil.

In modern day Sweden, we see this reflected in the many children who dress up as witches. These kids paint Easter cards and walk around the neighbourhood knocking on doors to wish everybody a happy Easter. In exchange, they hope to receive Easter sweets.

påskkkärring

The sound of the city

Posted on by Neil Shipley's watching the Swedes

 

Often when we travel, we return with stories of food, climate, people. But one of the things that strikes me when I’m abroad is sound. Each city, each place, seems to have its own sound identity. I love sitting in the evenings looking out over cityscapes and drinking in the melodies of the night. In Stockholm, there is the hum of boats or of water lapping gently against shores, wind blowing through trees. In Bangkok it’s the sound of the tuk-tuks and the tinkle of chimes. In Delhi it’s the distant voices from temples and markets and all night traffic. In New York, it’s the hum of traffic and people, the buzzing of neon lights and the scream of emergency vehicles. Here in Nairobi, where I am today, it’s the sound of traffic interspersed with drum beats and wailing music.  Distant voices carrying through the night full of woeful stories. 

As I sit and listen, I experience another layer of the city, another layer of the culture. With full respect to food and climate, it’s the sound of the city that rules the night. 

Swedish sunflowers

Posted on by Neil Shipley's watching the Swedes

sunflowers

Sunflowers might not be the first thing you think of when you think of Sweden. But at this time of year, the place is full of them. Well, not really sunflowers per se, but a type of sunflower.

The fantastic thing about sunflowers, apart from their brash yellow colour and the flocks of butterflies that they attract, is the way in which they move. Their big, open faces look up at the sky, reaching for the light, and when the sun is out the sunflower moves its face to follow the its path across the sky. They really enjoy soaking up the rays of light and the warmth that the sun provides. It’s a fantastic sight to behold as you drive through the countryside in France or Italy.

But we’re not in France or Italy, we’re in Sweden. So what has this got to do with Sweden then?

Well, Swedes are like sunflowers.

Confused? Let me explain.

After a long, dark, cold winter, Spring eventually arrives.  This year, it seemed to arrive early. This week, temperatures soared to 14 degrees celcius, the sky was blue and people hit the streets and the parks. Everybody emerged from their winter hybernation.

They sat on park benches, on blankets, on window ledges, outside restaurants, on balconies. They leaned up against sunny walls. And as they sat there, they lifted their faces, just like sunflowers, to face the sun and to feel the warming rays of light on their pale wintery skin. Sometimes people just stopped randomly on street corners and lifted their faces up to the sun, eyes closed, to soak up the light.

So you see, Swedish sunflowers are the Swedes themselves. And you’d be hard pushed to find a more sun-worshipping, thankful population at this time of the year.

90 km on skis – a yearly Swedish challenge

Posted on by Neil Shipley's watching the Swedes



Today, the world’s longest cross country ski race takes place in the county of Darlana in Sweden.  Called Vasaloppet, it entails participants skiing 90 kilometers from start to finish. It’s an extremely popular race, which can take up to 12 hours to complete, and which is broadcast live on tv. When tickets to participate are released, they sell out in 15 minutes – it’s that popular. 

The first Vasalopp was in 1922 and takes place annually, the first Sunday in March. It’s an amazing sight to watch, as more than 15000 mad skiers glide along, the swishing sound of ski on snow filling the air. The person who has completed the race fastest is Jörgen Brink, who in 2012 won the race in just over 3 hours 40 minutes. 

So why is this race called the Vasalopp? Well, it is to commemorate the escape to Norway through Darlana of King Gustav Vasa in 1521. Legend has it that he skied, but experts believe he more likely completed this escape on snow shoes. 

Modern day skiers don’t see the experience as an escape, they see it as a challenge and a rite of passage. 

And as you sit watching the TV comfortably from the sofa, with tea and toast, you take vicarious pride in their crazy achievement. 



How a Swedish hand bag can cause a storm

Posted on by Neil Shipley's watching the Swedes

Lady Bracknell’s horror when she exclaims ..‘a handbag!!?’ in Oscar Wilde’s ‘The Importance of Being Ernest’, has never been so relevant as it is today. 

Indeed, a handbag is causing quite a stir in Sweden. 

A famous photograph from 1985 is the catalyst. This photograph depicts Danuta Danielsson stepping out from a crowd to hit a neo Nazi across the head with her handbag. Now, a statue has been made depicting this snapshot of time but the local council in the Swedish town of Växsjö is refusing to allow it to be erected. The reason? They claim that the statue commemorates violence and say that it is not ok to hit somebody just because you disagree with them. 

And I agree with that. But there is another perspective. The statue can reflect an act of individual courage or symbolise the very real relationship between nationalism and anti-fascism that we see in Sweden today. 

It seems like this handbag is dividing the country. As a response to this situation, handbags have been mysteriously appearing on statues all over the country. 

Yes….‘a handbag!!?’



Reflections from a Swedish supermarket queue

Posted on by Neil Shipley's watching the Swedes



Standing in a queue, waiting to pay. In front of me, there’s a woman in her late thirties. She has a baby in a pushchair, she’s dressed in exercise gear and she has loads of food. Manically, she unpacks her trolley and unceremoniously dumps her items onto the belt. She sees me standing behind her and, as I only have three items, she generously offers for me to go before her. 

I admit I am surprised by this uncommon offer. But I graciously thank her and say no worries – I can wait. The supermarket is playing a favourite tune and I’m actually enjoying it, I tell her. 

‘It’s nice to hear somebody isn’t Saturday-stressed’ (lördagsstressad) she mutters bitterly back at me. 

‘Saturday-stressed’ is a term I’ve never heard, I never am and I certainly never intend to be.