Tag: Swedish

My Language Immersion Diversion

On April 21, 2018

Rivstart, the standard Swedish textbook for the state sponsored language course, SFI, and Rosetta Stone, my starting place for Swedish studies before we arrived in Sweden. I now use Duolingo mostly.

Last November I dove deeper into my Swedish learning, taking an intense three-hour, daily class that lasted four weeks. It was perfect — exhausting and effective. I learned more than I could immediately articulate, but unfortunately the day after the class concluded I boarded a plane for the US and put Swedish learning on hold for a month.

That hold extended when I decided not to re-enroll in the intensive Swedish class and opted to try an online intensive crash course in Biblical Hebrew instead. I looked over the class syllabus and realized that the pace went alarmingly fast, a true crash course, so while I was in Los Angeles I ordered a little booklet on learning the alphabet and sounding out simple words. It arrived just in time, and while we were flying over the Atlantic Ocean, I was writing my first Hebrew letters on the back of a barf bag.

My very first attempts …

I was hooked.

I have always struggled with language learning. We lived in Los Angeles, for 14 years and I never made it past the first level of Spanish in Rosetta Stone. All of my New Year’s resolutions and short-lived attempts resulted in a “smattering” of Spanish vocabulary and common phrases. If I had to rate my language acquisition abilities, I would not have given myself much of a vote of confidence. But, fresh off of my budding success in Swedish, and aided by the gentle discouragement of my friends and family — “Oh, Hebrew is hard, you should just try Greek,” and “You can’t learn Hebrew in a few weeks,” and “I think you should focus on Swedish,” — I decided to give it a try. Why not?

By the time February rolled around I had a good handle on the alphabet, including the exotic vowels which are mostly expressed as subtext dots and dashes; and I was weary enough of the winter weather to press into the Hebrew course when it started the first week of February.

Extra curricular materials I found to help me through the course.

It was rough going. The class, which was composed of graduate students from around the world who already knew either Arabic and/or multiple European languages, went immediately from introducing the alphabet to reading and translating (with the help of a vocabulary sheet) long sentences. At first each sentence took me almost a half an hour to decode, but eventually, just before I thought I might give up, I began to see patterns. So I continued onward.

My not-so-helpful cat, keeping me company while I watch online lectures.

And now, more than halfway through the course, I am enjoying reading sentences from the Hebrew Bible in a matter of minutes instead of half an hour. I am still a long, long way from mastery; but I have learned enough to keep me motivated to learn more.

So why Hebrew? Why now?

I have always been at least mildly interested in learning Hebrew. But it always seemed like a quest out of my reach, a study that only serious Theologians pursue.

But in late November, as I was finishing my Swedish class, I attended a graduate school information fair at Lund University which happens to be a short train ride away. I looked into several graduate programs focusing on business or communications, but I was mostly fascinated by a graduate program called the Religious Roots of Europe — a study of early Judaism, Christianity and Islam, the connections between them and how they shaped Europe. It was a combination of so many things I love – history, theology, travel, personal narrative. Other then the fact that pursuing such a master’s degree seems to be counterproductive to actually getting a job – which I need to do – it seemed perfect. But there was a catch. Classical language study was a prerequisite. Students needed to have learned Hebrew, Arabic or Latin before they started the program.

I was disappointed, but ready to move on, when I met the head of the RRE program at Lund. He suggested I reach out to a colleague of his who teaches an intensive Hebrew course online, which I did.

Then after a few quick e-mail exchanges I started taking the Hebrew class on-line, not knowing if it would be too difficult for me to “keep up,” or if I would even be accepted into the graduate school program.

So here I was, in Sweden, in the dark of winter, studying ancient Hebrew with a Danish professor and handful of other international students from Germany, Syria, Turkey, France and other places. It was not what I had planned, but it has been unexpectedly delightful, like getting the Christmas present that I had always wanted but never mentioned because I did not know I wanted it.

Last month I took the train to Copenhagen and met my class in person. I was afraid that I would be embarrassingly unprepared, but all of my work at home had paid off and I was able to keep up with the class.

At this point I do not know if I will continue with the Religious Roots program in the fall. But even at this point I have already learned not only the basics of Biblical Hebrew, but also a powerful life lesson in what I am capable of, given enough dark winter hours.

I think I can. I think I can. I think I can.

Maybe it is not too crazy to think that I will be fluent in Swedish someday … and be able to read the Bible in Hebrew ….. and maybe order falafel in Israel. Maybe.

It is good to be inspired. That is worth the price of admission any day.

Internal Life

By Theresa Haynes

On November 27, 2017

In Uncategorized

Late afternoon on a damp day

November in Malmö is ending just as gray as the locals predicted. In typical Scandinavian reliability, the weather is slogging steadily into colder, damper, deeper darkness. The trees are barren and the apartment buildings look as unapologetically uniform as any sample of mid century egalitarianism ever was. It is not particularly picturesque, and if it were not for the festive Christmas decorations popping up in apartment windows and dangling across cobblestone streets, Malmö might feel completely void of color in its November drizzle.

But that is just the world outside our doors. Inside is another story.

Inside our living space has never been warmer, cozier or more welcoming. Even the cars driving through the wet streets below amplify the peace inside. The Danish famously call it “hygge,” and it is a real thing. It is a winter home-life happiness in the form of evening candles, home cooked meals shared around the dining room table, books being read, guitars being played, new friends joining us for dinner and side-aching, hilarious stories shared. It is an interior happiness to match a soulful contentment, and it’s a whole new life I did not know was possible in the sun-drenched lands of Los Angeles busyness.

Christmas stars light up apartment windows all over Sweden. We got ours from IKEA, of course.

Today I Mailed a Letter

By Theresa Haynes

On October 11, 2017

In Uncategorized

“Theresa Mailed a Letter.”

That title reminds me more of a children’s book than an adult expat’s blog. But the thing is, I am kind of like a child here. Someone on one of my social media groups said it best when another member was complaining about the difficulty of finding work here without knowing Swedish. He said, “Look, basically you are like a four-year-old until you learn their language. “

And he is right. I have to ask for everything, in English, and hope that the clerk will be happy to oblige me in my ignorance. Luckily for me, right now, Swedish people seem to really enjoy speaking in English. English is taught universally in schools, so speaking English well is a mark of education, prestige. The only non-English speakers are older Swedes and immigrants from non-English speaking countries. And even then, older Swedes often understand English but are shy about using it.

I understand that too. I am picking up new words every day, especially written words, but I am a little terrified of having to actually use them. It is not helpful to my long-term learning that everyone is so quick to put me out of my misery and converse in English.

One small advantage that I have is that I look like I should speak Swedish, so often clerks speak to me in Swedish first and I make it a game to see how far I can go without admitting that I have no idea what they have just said. There have been many times that I have interacted with a cashier, never saying a word, only understanding half of what he said, and he never knew it. I am pretty good with nonverbal cues, and it is amazing how far that goes.

Hi.

Is this all you want?

Great. Put your credit card there.

Sign there.

Take that stuff you just bought.

See you later.

Tack!

But some basic adult life tasks require more than just language acquisition skills. Simply being able to speak the same language is not enough. Customs and etiquette are different. In fact, the whole government system of health care and schools and registration is just a little bit different here. A small task that I took for granted at home can seem like a mini crisis here, like mailing a registration form to a government office.

So let’s break it down.

The first step is to translate the form. That is not too difficult with Google Translate, but even if Google Translate fails, I can always call the government office, wait on hold forever while thinking about my American mobile phone bill’s international calling plan. Once I have the form filled, I have to get to a post office and mail it.

And here is complication number two. It has been explained to me that Sweden does not have post offices any more. They don’t use checks either, so if you need to make a payment that is a whole different set of hoops beginning with trips to the migration office and the tax office, then fingerprinting and official ID photographs, culminating in several in-person, appointment-only visits to the bank before you can make an electronic payment. It literally takes weeks, if not months, before you can electronically send someone money, a big problem for newcomers in an almost cashless society.

But assuming that all I need to do is mail the form, I have found that it works to smile and ask people in English, “Excuse me, how do I mail a letter?”

And if they are heartless and under 30 they look at you like you are a 4-year-old.

Duh. Put a stamp on it and put it in one of the yellow boxes that are everywhere.

But where do I get a stamp if there are no post offices?

You can buy them at grocery stores, office supply stores. You know, the same places that you can buy stamps in the US.

Oh, of course. I can do that.

And they are right. It is really easy. Even a 4-year-old could do it.