84 Days Down, 6 to Go...

My last full weekend in Stockholm is over. I've visited every tourist attraction trip advisor has suggested, tried every Swedish food I could find (yes, even lutefisk), and I've even nearly finished my co-op project in spite of the fact that it was initially intended to take 6 months instead of 3. I think it's most significant that I've gotten to the point where I can spend a whole day lazing around my apartment cooking and reading, leaving only to get groceries, and not feel like I'm wasting time that should be spent exploring. It feels, well, normal.
I sort of expected this to be like an extended vacation, where I have to constantly be doing something and planning the next adventure. And I have, to some extent, done that, but I've also been content to just settle in to Stockholm life. Wake up, eat my filmjolk with muesli and lingon, bike to work, spend my day working alongside people from all over the world, break for fika, finish at a reasonable time, bike home in the dark, and then just relax or run errands or maybe go explore for a bit. It's not the same as life in Boston or Chicago, but it feels just as easy and comfortable even after barely 3 months. It's almost anticlimactic. I thought there would be homesickness and jet lag and culture shock, but it's just life as usual after no time at all.
This next week I will be systematically dismantling my life here. Sell the bike, finish my food, give back my keys, say my goodbyes, eat at my favorite bakery one last time. And this time next week, I'll be back in Chicago, jet-lagged out of my mind and binge-eating deep dish pizza. I am a weird mix of ready for everything I missed about home to be within reach again (have I mentioned that Stockholm doesn't have any good Mexican food? It's a travesty), but also dreading leaving a place in which I have so happily and comfortably settled.

Christmas cookies

Christmas season is nearly in full bloom here (lights everywhere, Christmas markets popping up around town, delicious Christmas treats appearing in bakery windows). As in the U.S., Christmas cookies are extremely popular. Here, they have pepparkakor, which are gingersnaps similar to those Anna's Swedish gingersnaps that you can find in many stores in the U.S. A chilly, rainy evening like this one is perfect for baking, so I decided to try my hand at them. You can find a version that uses American ingredients and measurements here. I also tried making risgrynsgröt, a wonderful, cinnamony rice pudding. Recipe here. I added raisins, as many do, but they are very much optional.

"There's no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing"

So I know my last blog post was just me moping about the weather, but I take it all back. It's been snowing since Sunday and it is glorious! It even set a new record: the most snow on any November day since the measurements started in the early 1900s.

The only drawback has been that biking is now a serious hazard to my health (not that I haven't tried...), but it's okay because the slower pace means I can better appreciate how lovely snow-covered Stockholm is.

Because my hands are usually too cold for my touch screen to recognize as human, I haven't taken so many pictures of the snow. But, I will leave you with the few that I have.

Winter

I've heard a lot about the cold, dark Stockholm winters, but I never really believed that it could be much different than Chicago and Boston. Well, it's only early November, but I'm already a little horrified by how cold and dark it is. The cold, everyone is quick to assure me, is unseasonably severe and early (not like the unusually balmy weather back in the two places I call home... insult to injury, I call it). The dark, however, is normal.
Today, the sun rose at 7:20 AM and set at 3:42 pm, just 8 hours, 45 minutes of light. By December 21st, the shortest day of the year, it will be a whopping 6 hours, 4 minutes. The damp cold, wind, rain, snow, etc. aren't so different from a normal winter in Chicago or Boston, but the darkness is something else entirely. Long before I leave work every day, I sit in the lab and watch the sun go down. By 5 o'clock, it feels like the middle of the night, like I should have been home hours ago, even though the department is still as lively and crowded as ever. And while I've spent many evenings exploring Stockholm by bike, the darkness now isn't exactly conducive to sightseeing.
The Swedes take it in stride, even embrace it as a reason to spend the evening curled up with a book and a cup of tea, surrounded by candles and house plants. I, like many non-Swedes, waver between absolute horror and dread of the looming darkness, and a curious appreciation for the increased warmth and coziness in buildings and between people.
Though not especially religious, Sweden does the Christmas season well. Cheerful lights have already been strung through the streets of Stockholm, adorable tomte have been popping up everywhere, and Christmas treats have been added to the already extensive selection of pastries in each bakery. I've made a reservation for the Michelin-starred Operakallären's julbord (a splurge I'm still questioning, but the beautiful, historical setting and reputation as being the best meal you'll ever have is rather alluring), which is certainly good motivation to make it through the next few excessively dark weeks.
So I'm a little undecided about this long, dark winter. Some days are so gray and dreary that I feel like no amount of coffee will ever wake me up. Others, I think maybe I could learn to be a bit more like the Swedes: make the most of those rare sunny days, but also the prohibitively cold and dark ones, by relying on other people or maybe just a good book - not sunshine - for warmth.