Neil Shipley on Swedish culture – the strange, the special and the sublime
Jostle with other people on the platform. As train arrives, manoeuvre self to correct part of platform for doors. As doors open, push self immediately on board. Under no circumstances wait for others to disembark. Under no circumstances. Once on train, use elbows to move toward seat. Sit down. Make no eye contact with anybody.
In three words, it’s easy to describe Swedish umbrella etiquette.
There. Is. None.
If it’s not bad enough to get bashed into when walking down the street on a normal day, it’s worse when it’s raining. Armadas of umbrella-wielding Swedes emerge. And you walk along the street at your peril.
Just a word of advice. If your umbrella is eye height for other people, then please tilt your brolly as you walk past them. The likelihood that you will poke out somebody’s eye is seriously reduced with this simple action.
It’s sensible. It’s respectful. It’s safe.
And it’s etiquette.
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.
Around this time of the year, schools have a week’s holiday. Called Sportlov it’s a traditional time for a winter sport break.
This tradition was introduced in 1940 and was initially a way to save energy. Heating up schools cost money and, due to rationing, councils were instructed to drastically reduce their heating expenses. To give the pupils something meaningful to do while the school was shut, the authorities organised various activities, many focused on being outdoors and exercising. During the 50’s, experts realised that infection spread less widely at this time of the year if schools were closed for a week. So the winter sport break became cemented and an official disease control method.
Nowadays, many families head off to the mountains to go skiing, some head off to the Alps for the same purpose.
For those of us left in town, it’s sheer bliss.
There is hardly anybody on the buses and tube, traffic is significantly thinner and less noisy and it’s easy to get a seat at lunch time.
And the fact that there are hardly any children in town means the rest of us don’t get infected with kid flu bacteria on our way to work.
It seems like the American Valentine’s Day has finally taken hold in Sweden. Commercialism aside, the Swedish name translates as All Heart’s Day, and it’s nye on impossible to get a table booking at any restaurant this evening. Not for love nor money.
Long live romance!
I shared the bus journey this morning with ten other people. Of these ten people, 8 of them had their heads buried in their mobile phones. White headphones on, they were captivated by their little screens. Reading the news, playing a game, updating their statuses was more important than what was going on physically around them.
Outside the sun was shining, the sky was blue and Stockholm looked fantastic. It was a lovely morning, full of energy and light. But these 8 people completely missed it. Think what we all miss when we get sucked into our screens rather than observing the environment around us. Think of the beauty we do not encounter, or the opportunities we miss.
So I’d like to issue a challenge. Next time you’re on the bus, or the tube, or the train – look up! Who knows what you might discover.
Facebook is today inundated with photographs of the great outdoors. After a long, dark autumn the sun is shining brightly over Stockholm and the sky is royally blue. Photos of people on skis, frozen lakes, rust-colored facades, glistening trees, ice crystals, chilly dogs, and snow-covered rooves abound. Like hibernating bears, the people of the Swedish capital emerge from their lairs when the sun appears. And at this time of the year, a cold, bright white sun is the perfect remedy to the winter blues. Stockholm is a breath-takingly beautiful city on these crisp, February days. So, it’s just to put on the woolly hat, the scarf, gloves, thick coat and winter boots and head outside for your shot of beauty and vitamin boost.
Here’s a picture from my walk:
One of the best things about walking around a city is that you can read the layers of architecture which gives you an insight into the lives and times of current and earlier city residents.
And Stockholm is no exception.
On the island of Södermalm, there is a cluster of old red, wooden houses perched amongst blocks of flats from the twentieth century. Most of these houses originate from the 1700’s and were homes to workers in the nearby tar yard and the docks. These were stinky, tough and perilous jobs. And, just like today, Stockholm was rapidly growing and people migrated into the city in droves. And just like today, there was a housing crisis even then. In the 1800’s and 1900’s these small, red houses were so overcrowded and filthy that they became dilapidated and dangerous.
Eventually in 1956, the government decided to renovate and improve the living standards for the poverty-stricken residents.
Today, the area is protected due to its cultural relevance and is still a residential area for a lucky few.
So next time you’re out walking, lift your eyes up. Look at the buildings around you – what does it tell you about your city’s earlier dwellers?
Yesterday, I ran a seminar on Swedish culture and I got a thought-provoking question from an audience member. It was a question I have never had before.
‘Are Swedes happy with what they are?’ was the question. Somewhat taken aback, I tried to answer the question in the best way I could based on my interpretation of it. I talked about anthropologists are yet to find a culture that thinks their way is wrong. Every culture thinks their way is the right way – otherwise they wouldn’t do things the way they do them. Being culturally competent is about understanding that there are lots of right ways.
After the seminar, I thought more about the question – are Swedes happy with what they are? It resonates around my head still. How happy is the average Swede? How happy is the average person in general? I sincerely hope that most people are happy and living lives that fulfill and enrich them. I hope they are living lives where they can be grateful for what they have and not envious about what they don’t have. I hope they are living lives where they can be the best they can be, surrounded by people they like and free to make the best choices for themselves. I hope their lives are full of life. For me that’s happiness. And in Sweden, that’s the life I am able to live.
So at least I’m happy to be the way I am – in Sweden!
I’ve always been a fan of Swedish healthcare. Socialised since the 1940’s but publically funded to some degree since the 1700’s, Sweden’s public health care is cheap, egalitarian and of high quality. At least that’s how I’ve always experienced it.
Living in Stockholm though, it seems like the best hospitals are not here. Nor are they in the other large cities such as Malmö or Gothenburg. According to the Medical newspaper ‘Dagens Medicin’, the best hospitals in the three classes ‘university hospital’, ‘medium sized hospital’ and ‘small hospital’ are in the towns of Linköping, Jönköping and Oskarshamn respectively.
So now we know where to head to if we need the best quality healthcare in Sweden.
Watching the Swedes 