``The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what you share with someone else when you're uncool.'' Cameron Crowe, Almost Famous
If I had to decide right now my plans for the rest of the year, I'd go
home. I mean, in August. Leave Sweden behind. Go back to Berkeley and
finish. Live in a co-op. Meet people. Finish.
I'm annoyed at my korridor. We're having a huge party tomorrow (today)
and it was supposed to include a sittning, an organised three-course
dinner with all of us korridor-mates and our friends. But our korridor
totally flaked out. People didn't sign up, because there were too few
people signed up. There's a self-fulfilling prophesy if there ever was
one. Then they began jumping ship and signing up for the sittnings in
other korridors.
I'm giving up too. I think I'm going to go to the karnival workers' party
at Krischansta instead. Out of disgust really. Normally I'll hang on to
the very end, doing my part to help organised endeavors succeed. Jessica
says I'm a "trooper". Usually, yes. I try. But there's a time to throw
in the towel.
Since I've already launched this gripe, I'd like to additionally complain
that our korridor has more than three times as many guys as girls.
I'm ready to move to Israel. I'm ready for a new group of people, excited
and eager. A new group of people to impress, people who might find me
interesting. I'm going to have a roommate. We're going to get a stereo.
I'm going to institute some Swedish traditions. We're going to fika on
Sundays. Bake things on Tuesdays. Or something. Put up posters of Göran
Persson. Swedish traditions we didn't do in Sweden.
Tonight I was over at Rose's with her mom and brother who are visiting.
We looked through Rose's pictures from the summertime. I looked so happy
and excited in the pictures. Even younger. It seems like the last
semester has been somewhat superfluous. Of course it hasn't been, but
most of the outright excitement occurred during the summer. I spend a
disturbing amount of time in my room. I have no strong Swedish friends.
Or of any other nationality for that matter.
Why have I planned to stay here longer? The reasons aren't good ones.
I'm trying to prove something, but I don't know what. I'm trying to
finish something, but I'm not sure sure what that is either. I'm trying
to run away and learn something about myself, and I don't want to return
until I learn it. A sabbatical from reality. How much of my life is the
way it is because of the way I am and how much of it is due to the
environment in which I reside?
That last question I've answered: the place has little to do with it. My
life has settled down into patterns very much like in Berkeley. Or, for
that matter, any time and place before that. When I was eleven I ran
around asking my relatives to write stories on index cards; at twice that
age I'm still running around begging people to write down their stories.
What drives me to do these things?
What am I trying to prove by avoiding going home? I really don't know.
That I'm in some way stronger? Some weird desire to be exceptional? No,
that's not it. Not really.
Sure, the new environment provides an impulse of novelty, but pretty soon
things converge to the normal course. The flip side of independence is
isolation, isolation which leads to a creeping, desperate lonliness. I
want to sleep in the kitchen just to be near people.
So I'm ready to move to Israel. Meet a new group of people and impress
them with the places I've been and the things I've done and have them
think I'm interesting for a spell. I hate living life by resume; I'd
rather just be interesting. When I meet people at parties they don't
bother to say goodbye when they leave.
In some ways leaving Sweden is disturbingly similar to coming here in the
first place. Sometimes I liked to think that I left the U.S. in
"disgust". Not for the country, but for certain people and certain
circumstances. That's not at all the way it really was -- I decided to
come to Sweden more than a year before I actually embarked. I left for
Sweden a bit upset at the ruts my life had fallen into in Berkeley,
looking for a more social life, looking for adventure and new experiences.
It worked for awhile, but it's easy to fall into the same old grooves. I
don't mean to say that those grooves are all bad, either -- I just want to
know that I'm capable of other things; that I live the life I do out of
deliberate choice.
I don't ever want to think that I left Sweden in disgust. I want to leave
Sweden when I feel that I am ready. The thing is, I don't know what that
will take. What does it take to address nagging insecurities?
I look forward to Israel to have a hardcore job in real research where I
can work long hours in the lab, working on real problems long into the
night. Maybe that's what it takes. Being useful. Being productive.
How long do you try to make things perfect before you just give up with
"good enough"? That's the real question when I ask whether I want to stay
here in Sweden.