Month Two Reflection

We're now two months in to our sabbatical time in Sweden.

In the past month, we've been fortunate to be invited to a few homes. Before we left, we were warned that it would be difficult to make friends in Sweden. The people are kind and helpful, but will be slow to become close with you, everyone said.

This is not the first time I've felt this. Tjärnö is at least the third place we've lived where we knew we'd only be there temporarily. I can remember a friend of mine in Massachusetts telling me she was hesitant to get too close with me, knowing that once Jeremy's post-doc was done, we'd move away.

I think perhaps we have it a bit easier here, living on a sparsely populated island. Instead of being strangers, we're like celebrities. We were at the mall one day, and a woman I'd never met came up to me and said, "Are you living on Tjärnö? On sabbatical?" It turned out she was the mother of one of the girls we'd met when we visited the local school. When everybody knows everybody, new people attract attention.

We're also lucky to live at the marine lab. They have visiting students and researchers coming through all the time, so the permanent folks have lots of experience folding newcomers into their routines.

I also think fika helps. Despite the jokes about it being the key to world peace, it really helps people to get to know one another. I'm fortunate to be welcomed at fika, even though I'm not actually working at the lab. It's given me the chance to speak with students, faculty, visitors, post-docs, and staff members. And since they come from everywhere, the conversation is often in English.

In the past month, we've also bought a car, which has dramatically changed our mobility. We haven't fully wrapped our heads around this fact yet, though. The other day, the girls and I were walking around town, and I kept thinking, "How much longer do we have until we have to walk back and catch the bus?"

This past month, the girls and I also survived our first extended time alone here while Jeremy was away for six days on a research trip. It wasn't so different from being at home in San Diego when he's away. We ate pizza. We watched Netflix. I took them to the play place at the mall to get a break from mom duty. I let them have more screen time than I normally would, but we didn't spend all day glued to a screen. I actually worked out, went to the grocery store, did some homeschooling, and didn't feel like a complete basket case by the time Jeremy got back. (Moms who do it alone all the time? Seriously. I have no idea how you do that!)

One thing that has changed dramatically since we arrived is the amount of daylight. On the day we arrived in Sweden, February 24, the sunrise here was at 7:30am, sunset at 5:30pm. In San Diego, it was 6:30am and 5:45pm that day. We arrived to 10 hours of daylight, here in Strömstad.

Today, the sun rose at 5:30am and won't set until just shy of 9pm (in San Diego today, those numbers today are 6am and 7:30pm). Today, we'll see over 15 hours of daylight here. I know the sheer number of daylight hours will get even more extreme than this. On the longest day of the year, we'll get over 18 hours of daylight. What's surprising to me is the rate of change; it seems to change noticeably every day. The blackout curtains in our apartment are for more than just watching movies these days!

Month two, officially in the books. It feels like it went by quickly, but at the same time, I'm stunned at the thought that we will complete the same amount of time twice more before we go back home.