Jag pratar lite svenska nu – Austrian Girl Lost in Sweden (But in a Good Way)
– You take the girl out of the city. Not the city out the girl.
When I couldn’t sleep on the night train last November, I would never have guessed that I would grow so fond of red houses, midsummer flower crowns, fika, and the Swedish flag blowing in the wind.
It’s been twelve months, the Christmas decoration has been put up, and I’ll be home for Christmas. ”Home” – that is Austria, with my family. Yet ”home” now means more to me, it’s become a complex, multifactorial concept. I don’t know exactly when it happened. Maybe when I knew my way to work, when I had a favourite café, when I started to understand
the language, or when I finally connected with new people that I can now call my friends – but suddenly Växjö felt like my home.
It is special to spend a year in a place. I got to experience all the seasons changing and the city with it. From dark winter nights to people sitting in parks, over swimming in the lake, and finally to colourful leaves falling. Now there are Christmas lights in the streets again, cold in the air, snow ahead, and I have to pack my bags. I’m different now but more myself
than ever. Stripped clear of everything you used to know, your life is a blank canvas ready to be painted however you want to (and fun fact: I
actually did my fair share of painting). This year of self-discovery has taught me a lot. I never felt so lost and alone – yet at the same time never so ”found.”
If you asked me about volunteering now, I’d say that it’s a social
experiment, a lottery, a bit like taking a Polaroid picture where you can
never know exactly how it will turn out – probably differently than you expect. Of those I took many this past year, and some were too dark, too
bright, or from a completely wrong perspective. But with every picture you learn something. If you don’t like it, change the angle, don’t give up, and take another shot. Contrary to what I might have expected in between, I actually ended up with a collection of uniquely perfect ones – moments
frozen in time to remember things by.
Speaking of collected moments: the most important part of my experience are the people I met. On one hand those I really got to know –
while baking Kanelbulle, jumping in the deep blue of the Helgasion, singing ”Mamma Mia” or doing bracelets on the living room floor. But on
the other hand also those I only briefly crossed paths with, had a short conversation with, and still they gave me insights into their life – offering new perspectives, helping me grow.
I believe that every time you meet someone new, you write something in their book and become part of their story. It’s up to you if it has a positive or negative impact – maybe also none at all. I tried to make people smile a bit more this year, a hard day a little less bad. I don’t know if I was successful, but I’m incredibly grateful for the ones who did the same for me. We might not be part of each other’s next chapter – yet always remember the mark we left.
To conclude this blog entry, I will not give you another metaphor to decipher but simply say: I´m sad to leave, happy I was here, and looking forward to what’s next. Even though I have to say ”Hejdå Sverige” for now,
the important things (and people) will somehow stay. Tack så mycket to everybody who has been there for and with me – you know who you are
and see you again (:
– For now I wave goodbye to the end of beginning!
