Thursday, July 28, 2011

House guests

For most Americans getting one or two weeks per year of vacation is the norm.  Many of these people instead of leaving home on a trip will use their time to catch up on their house work, complete or start little projects and probably most commonly catch up on sleep.   For us the vacation (or holiday as it is called most other places) means a time for not working or a vacation from work.   But breaks from work can be so much more.

So one thing that is interesting about visiting a single place for this amount of time is that your visit become your way of life.   We effectively have moved to Sweden for a month and an half, and our day to day is a swedish existence.

Sandwiches for breakfast - Usually butter and cheese maybe some sort of sliced meat.



This is follows by a walk or a swim.  I usually take a short nap and then work for a little while.   The kids are usually running around with their cousins or on a trampoline so we can afford to not focus on them for a little bit.



Lunch usually consists of a light meal, some sort of meat with potatoes and a vegetable  (usually cucumber).   Now for lunches we've had fish (usually mackerel), fischbolar, one time we had Flesk (imagine bacon that is about 1/4 inch thick...OH YEAH!!!).



Flesk

Lunch is followed by tea or coffee and ice cream.  Another walk or swim.


Dinner is usually a larger meal and can vary depending on what we have...Meat ball, fish, pork chops, spaghetti, chicken, of course not all at once.





Following this is a walk and visiting with friends and family. Maybe some evening fishing out on the boat.


All in all a very social life style.  The island become the playground for our children and us, and on nice days there is not place more magical on the planet.




The home we live in (my mother-in-laws) becomes our home and we pretty much have run of the house.  This is probably what makes this kind of travel possible, if we did not feel at home we would consistently feel like visitors.

These feelings are more evident when "visitors" come.  This week we were joined by visitors from Israel.  When they arrived, we welcomed them in like we owned the place.  We cooked for them, did our best to entertain them or at least find things to entertain them with.



For my wife this is probably not as unusual because she did grow-up on this island and has seen this house as her own for many years.  She also understands the culture of Sweden and can welcome people in as an insiders.  I on the other hand can not claim any of these things, yet I also welcomed them in.

I guess this come with the territory of being able to live here for nearly two months, I know no other way while I'm here.


My two favorite parts of this are the only the mother Limor speaks english so the gestural communication can get a bit out of hand...Sorry.

Second thing is that the last time we saw them was nine years ago at our wedding here in Sweden.  Time sure does fly, even on an island like this were time seems to stand still.

Norway

I feel it would be totally out of line for us to continue this blog without addressing the tragedy in Norway.  We are all sickened and saddened by just how cruel humans can be.  
Extreme ideologies or political views that reduce or increase the value of one life over another are to most, completely unacceptable.  And the individual who act on these views need to be condemned for their actions. 
Our hearts go out to anyone who is dealing with the outcomes of this event.  

Monday, July 25, 2011

Laundry - From the Swedish Side

So my mother does not have a dryer. She has a small front load washer and while we are here it is in use on a daily basis. 




While we are here my mother spoils us by doing all our laundry...she washes and then hangs it to dry. If the weather permits she will hang the wet clothes outside 


and if it is raining she hangs it in the basement hallway. 






She has several washing lines hung for this purpose. Today she was glad, because even though our weather has been rainy, she somehow managed to time it right and hang a load of laundry outside between rain showers.  With todays strong wind the clothes dried fairly quickly so she had time to hang yet another load which she ended up having to bring in to continue its drying indoors.
My brother Albert has calculated that a load of laundry dries in about 8 hours or so...but not thick materials like jeans. Out of curiosity I asked my brother Albert (who lives in Stockholm, the capitol), if he knows anyone who has a drier. At the top of his head (he had to think about it for a minute) he could only think of two people with a laundry drier. 
I asked my mother the same question, “Do you know anyone that has a drier?”. She had to think for a minute and then she said she believes her neighbor has one because she never sees any laundry hung outside. 
My niece Charlotte, knows one person that has a drier in Sweden.
My nephew Oliver knows two people...his grandmother in town and his father on the island. 
At this point I am curious about this...and I will ask around some more. Why does it matter? Well, it doesn't really, but could you imagine not having one? Everyone that I know in the USA has one. For those that wash at a laundro-mat they also pay for a drier. To hang laundry outside our town-home would be a violation of our condominium rules. 
Here, I have noticed that it is common for homes to have washing lines hung on the outside and it is sort of part of what is expected. It is my belief that many American's today associate laundry hung outside a home as low socioeconomic class or even as an eye sore. This of course varies from city life to rural areas, state to state etc. Culture of course affects how we think about this. 






Personally, I think it is a symbol of home. It looks 'homy' and sort of reminds me of how it probably was a few decades ago where we live now in Washington. It certainly is a better choice for the environment. It also takes more planning as far as making sure you have clean and dry clothes ready for when you need them. A couple of other points are: In Sweden many people love the feeling of the laundry coming from the fresh outdoors rather than the drier. The laundry feels fresh and sometimes sort of stiff. I love to sleep on my mother’s newly cotton washed sheets especially when they have hung outside. 






My niece Charlotte feels that the feeling of the laundry is more fresh and not filled with static electricity at all and now dislikes taking her clothes out of the drier where she lives in Montreal, Canada.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

Deep historic roots...

As I have recovered completely from jet lag, I have taken to waking up early about 5:00 AM and working for a couple of hours, then returning to bed to sleep again for an hour or so. At this time most mornings my wife gets up to work for a couple of hours before the kids wake up.   

This system seems to work pretty well for us and allows us to have most of the rest of the day free to play.  
Most mornings when I get up I spend half my time on my online class, about a quarter on prep for the fall and about a quarter on my grad school stuff...these proportions may very depending on what chair duties I have.  This is the way I have to work, otherwise I would get confused and forget something.  My wife on the other hand, seems to work on a different schedule.  She clearly gets her work done, but she always seems to be working on something else when I eventually fully wake up.  
She may be looking up phone numbers for her father, or going through clothes collected for our children by her mother, maybe looking up various classes for our kids (i.e. dance, tennis, swimming classes).  I'm accustomed to this and actually take great interest into what she is doing, and usually she will share anything of interest with me.  
Today I came up the stair to find my wife and her mother working on a kinship chart.  This is a project she has wanted to work on for a number of years, partly to preserve the knowledge only her mother holds and partly as a development for her class.  As I sat and listened the years and generations rolled out, name after name, the family's profile became clear...What an amazing thing to have, as I counted it there were four generations covered with the potential for a couple more.  When all is said and done, my wife's maternal linage may stretch back 200 years.   




As a by product of living in an old country in a small area where people usually don't move far, relationships are easy record and maintain.   
As with other entries I will now turn this to myself.  As an american and as a person who is adopted, this kind of analysis is impossible for me on several levels.  First being orphaned and adopted gives me no knowledge of my biological past.  I know I was born in Cambodia in the Early 1970's this was the time of the Khmer Rouge.  This "monster" killed millions of Cambodians over a very short period of time.  It was always told to me that I was orphaned because my parents were killed by the KR and for some reason I was spared.  But I always had the question what if my parents weren't the 'good guys' what if they were the 'bad guys'? 
Within the reality of my life I can legally and personally claim my adopted family as my own and their heritage comes with it.  This is were the second layer of problems arises.  
My father's father was an Italian who immigrated to the U.S. when he was a small boy.  At that time in the U.S. integration was the way, people tended to reject their cultures of origin in an attempt to be accepted in their new home.  My paternal grandfather either didn't know or tried to forget his past.  Which included not talking about his family.  As far back as I can find out it is my great grand father Vincent Tessandori, who immigrated from Italy in the 1880's as a teenager.  Beyond that I have only heard rumor.  I have found other Tessandoris on FaceBook: a group from Italy, a group in Argentina and a group in Bakersfield California ( I know I am related to them).   I know that Tessandori is a name from Northern Italy and is fairly rare.  I've been told it translates to Master Weaver...which is kind of cool.  So its a good chance that we are related some how.  Just how this works is different depending on who you talk to.  
One side is pretty plain, Vincent moved to the U.S. lived in Bakersfield where he raised his kids...That comes from my side of the family.  Another story takes Vincent from Italy to Argentina where he starts a family, leaves them there and moves to Washington State for a short while before settling in Bakersfield, where he starts my lineage. The truth of this is debatable but there are some interesting things that suggest the truth is somewhere in-between.  First I have document for a Vincent Tessandori that shows much of his migration at least within the U.S.  It mentions Bucoda, Washington and Bakersfield.  So I can say that is supported.  


Immigration Document For Vincent Tessandori



Another interesting thing is that there are a group of Tessandoris in Washington State who actually spell their name "Tessandore."  This could be another piece of the puzzle and another lost branch of the Vincent Tree.  
Rico Tessandore for Judge

My wife knows at least one side of her family very well, and can take pride in that. The tradition and history she has is wonder and beautiful and above all else neat.  Then big question here is...Do I want to know my family the same way she does?  I guess another question is...Does it matter?   I won't answer the first question... partly because it is not possible and partly because its easier to not know.  The second question, the answer is a resounding NO!   If we've learned anything from the study of family and kinship we know that your family is who you know you can go to if you have a need.   

Friday, July 22, 2011

One week in... From an American Prespective

It has been one week since we arrived in Sweden and we are settling in nicely.  I think we are pretty much over the jet lag and I am getting use to not doing much all day.  That actually seems to be the hardest part. True I am working, (teaching online, preparing for next year and working on my dissertation proposal) but I can only do so much of that.  
I have found that much of my time is spent chasing my kids around doing my best to keep them from killing themselves, getting kidnapped, run over by cars, falling into a well or other large hole, tumbling down rocks or stairs, eating berries that are marginally poisonous, stepping on sharp rock or shells, getting stung by jelly fish, or getting eaten by some large partially domesticated by feral animal...etc...

ALL THE DANGERS AROUND US!!!

   


Steep Stairs

Trampolines
Crab fishing with no life vests on


Babies who like to run and jump near the water


Slippery rocks, old docks and kids
Guinea pigs who may or may not bite
Pillow fighting on a long pole over the water!!

Very similar to what I do at home.  The only difference is I seem to be more worried than everyone else.  Maybe its because I have a fairly loud “booming” voice that carries for miles...So I’m the only one you hear.   
I know that most here are good parents and their kids are at the top of their priorities...again which is no different than at home.  
Parents at home are bombarded with images of kids being taken, falling into wells...the list can go on.  Here, at least on this island, many of those concerns are just not there.  

We are on a small island with limited places to go.  People tend to walk more than drive and there are no wells to fall into.  Sure there are rock but my kids are actually pretty nimble on them as are most of the kids...much more than I can say for myself.  There are stinging jellyfish and sharp shell, neither are leather and the largest animals on this island that might try to consume a child is an Mink that lives under my mother-in-laws house...I’ve never seen it but, I’m told its there.  
I guess the big question is, can I remove myself from the parental mindset I developed in another culture and relax before I have to go home in five weeks...probably not I’m really stubborn.  

Why is it that my wife is able to let go?  Again we are faced with a two cultural perspectives and the ability (or inability) to switch between cultural paradigms.  Everything I know about parenting, was formed as I grew up in an American Suburb.  People were scared of strangers in a massively heterogeneous society.  The intersection of culture did not always result in integration, people often time maintained their own cultural identities while living and working around other cultural systems.  
As far as I can tell, Swedish society is very homogeneous.  Even if a person is a stranger it is a good chance that you know how they will behave.  People from other places tend to adopt the customs and language of the Swedish people.  This tends to make people more trusting and probably less frantic about the "dangers" of the world.  I can easily see myself moving in that direction if I were to relocate here someday.  

Regardless of where it comes from, I don’t think this part of me will change anything soon.  Although it is my way, and I am intent on protecting my kids from dangers I perceive, I can imaging it being somewhat annoying for those around me...

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

From the Swedish Perspective - Sunshine/Exercise/Swimming/Good Ole Friend/Mackerel/Bingo

Sunshine/Exercise/Swimming/Good Ole Friend/Mackerel/Bingo 




Today we had a rare sunshine filled day. I got up before everyone else in our house, went for a brisk walk up and down the small asphalted streets and out on the one and only trail on the north part of the island.  After having worked up a sweat and a red face, I picked up my husband and kids to go for a before breakfast swim. The water was very cold...maybe 17 degrees celsius (62 degrees). This was my first swim this trip and I take a very long time to get in, but finally I did and it was so refreshing!  After a breakfast of open sandwiches (consisting of various breads, butter, cheese, sandwich meats), orange juice, milk, fresh blueberries, yogurt, and the scrambled eggs Tony made, we went back to the beach and the kids started their swim lesson. Both Elsa and Vincent did great today...both tried swimming and actually spent time under the water even though it was cold. They have gotten used to the warnings of orange jelly fish and the seaweed and kelp. 
An old friend of mine came to visit. I have known her since I was at least 5 years old. It is neat to have known someone that long and still be good friends. We grew up together on this island, but just as all ten of us in our age group, she lives closer to a city. Only one of us still lives on the island. 

Yesterday my nephew caught some Mackerel and gave it to us. 



My mom dressed it and refrigerated it for today's dinner. She dipped the pretty colored filets in bread crumbs and fried each piece in butter until brown and crispy. 


She then poured milk in to the cast iron, more butter and salt and dill. It was not a gravy, but rather a milky au jus. this was  served with boiled potatoes straight out of my mothers garden. 


After dinner we went for another walk and happened upon a 'Harbor Bingo'. 




We had never seen this before and I later learned that this was the first time they had done this.
In the harbor a couple of members of the island board, had organized an out-door bingo event. They had a microphone, some tables set up and people either sat at the tables or in their own house boats and listened for the numbers to be announced. The prize was for 1,000 krones (about $155.00)   
Notice the lack of BINGO on the cards

On one of the boats, there was a group of my friends sitting, drinking wine and listening intensively for the numbers. 



Everyone seemed to greatly enjoy the event and next time they have the event we will try to make sure to participate. 


Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Svensk Mat From an American Perspective

Or Swedish food for the uninitiated. If I asked you what kind of food Swedish people eat, without any real prompting, my bet is that most of you would say..."meatballs". Another portion of you would say pancakes...and hopefully a very small number would say massage or memory foam. The facts are most people are not familiar with the cuisine of Sweden. This presents a more difficult question of why more is not known, when the cuisine of other culture (China, France, Thailand, etc) are at least in our perception known. If we looked closer we would probably see that there is little actually known about these cultures cuisines as well. We might have an idea about what they eat, but it is probably way off.

The food in Sweden is, as in most places in the world, very closely tied to the history of the culture and the land it developed in. Much of what the swedish people see as "traditional" swedish dishes have their roots in the diets of the commoners. Foods are usually made up of the less expensive cuts of meat, easily grown vegetables and fruits and breads that can be easily made and can usually last for several days with out external preservation.

Meatballs, made from the less expensive cuts of meat, usually tougher cuts, or older meats. These cuts can be tenderized during the grinding process and flavored with spices to mask the trace of rancidness. They can also be cooked over any heat source with minimal equipment needed.



Pancakes are similar in that their main components are relatively inexpensive, abundant and can be easily prepared in large numbers.

The problem I have with Swedish Pancakes, is that I don't like sweets. Lingon Berries, sugar and other sweet things are often applied to the pancakes. It is true that with out other flavors these could be considered some what bland. So what can I do? Its called Cultural Adaptation...I event what I call the Swedish Burrito. A swedish pancake filled with what ever I can find in the fridge...Cheese, various sausages, leftover fish, fish balls, potatoes...I then wrap it like a burrito and dig in. My mother-in-law often wonders what I'm doing, but I guess as long as I'm eating its ok.

So these are the things you know...now lets talk about the things we don't know about.

Fiskbullar

Not what you might think. These are like meat balls made up of various fish types and parts. Compressed and rolled in to balls. They are then boiled and served with potatoes and lingon berries or gravy. The potatoes are always peeled (no one eats potato peels in sweden). At one time fish balls were made by hand, now they come in little cans. I guess it is a lost "art." They are actually pretty good...texture wise, different but their flavor is mild. And if you tell the kids they are chicken they will eat them with little fuss.




Salty Licorice

GROSS! If death has a flavor, my bet is it probably is something like this. I shouldn't say that because it is one of the most loved "candies" in most of scandinavia and a very important tradition. Why come up with this? Who in their right mind would say "Hey, lets take something that does not taste good and mix it with a flavor that it shouldn't be mixed with. That sounds like a great idea." As with other things we need to consider why this would be so. It is well known that licorice has many health benefits, and had been used in Traditional Chinese Medicine for hundreds of years. It has anti-bacterial properties and is a great source of vitamin C. Ok so why salt it, no one that I've have talked to could answer this for sure. Although it is called "Salty Licorice" it is not salt (sodium chloride) we have on the table it is actually ammonium chloride. Having similar properties to table salt, ammonium chloride how much of history was less expensive and easier to access. For much of recorded history salt has been highly valued and was the motivation for wars in the past. Both these compounds can be used as preservatives, preventing fungal and bacterial growth. It is known that people used the root of the licorice plant Glycyrrhiza glabra for its medicinal purposes all over the European and Asian continents. However, it only grows naturally in Southern Europe and Asia. When consumed in these places it is not salted or preserved. When it is transported to Northern Europe, preservation was required. Once it arrives and is consumed, the flavors of licorice and salt become tied together, and eventually transition from just the medical to a favorite treat.



Smörgås Tårta (Sandwich Cake)

Now here's one that I tried for the first time this past week. Sandwich cake is exactly what it sounds like. Picture about twenty three layer sandwiches organized in the shape of a cake. My understanding is that these sandwiches can be filled with just about anything. The one I had was mostly shrimp, tuna, boiled eggs and smoked salmon. It also had cucumber, tomatoes, lemon slices and caviar. The whip cream is mixed with mayonnaise, dill and caviar. It was good, however, it was so incredibly rich and filling. I could hardly finish the piece I had. Sandwich cake is a common party food. A bunch of people came over and all ate their fill. At the end there was still a lot of food left over. I'm not sure if Sandwich cake is traditional or more modern, but I do know that it is not stranger than cake pops.





Half-Special

I'm not sure if there is a full special, but the half special is indeed as special as food gets. Imaging a banana split...now replaces the banana with a hotdog and the ice cream with mashed potatoes. Now cover it with thousand island dressing instead of chocolate sauce and put it all in a bun. This was actually the first swedish food I ate the first time I came to sweden. There is an oddness to this dish and I'm not sure what it is...this just in a whole special is two hotdogs.



Swedish Pizza and Hamburgers

Ok so how much can you do to pizza and hamburgers to make them culturally unique. As far as the pizza goes, there is something different about swedish pizza and I'm not sure what it is. The crust is thin but soft, there is tomato sauce and cheese. I believe it is in the toppings that the major differences appear. My favorite is the khibab pizza, this is the basic pizza with thinly sliced lamb meat, sometimes goat cheese and a fair amount of horse radish sauce. My wife usually orders the Hawaiian pizza, the pineapple are in large chunks and the ham is sliced into small thin slices. Not at all what I would normally see on a "hawaiian" pizza. Its kind of funny that you can come to Sweden and still get a pizza named after hawaii.

Hamburgers again are virtually the same, but they taste different than any other burger in the US. The meat is different and I'm not sure why. But there is something unique about them. The biggest difference is that some people here eat their burgers with a knife and fork...not the strangest thing, but it does change the image of the burger.

Chocolate balls

A mix of coco powder, oatmeal, butter, sugar and usually a small amount of coffee. Not my thing, way too sweat, but the kids really enjoy them. Most of the fun is in the process of making them. It is a really communal process, with everyone working toward a common end. This dish does not require cooking and can be completed in a matter of minutes.









The cuisine of sweden is rich with uniqueness and tradition. It serves the dual purpose of feeding people and experience the culture. Food is a huge part of our lives and when we eat what others eat and with them we get to experience something very special.