This is not a ferry. This is a cruise ship. It has bars, coffee shops, liquor stores, a cabaret, a sauna, a sun deck, a salon and several restaurants. I'm currently sitting on the 9th floor of 9 floors and have been on the ship for about an hour. Number of times hit on: 3. All three times by gentlemen from Iraq. I'm getting the distinct impression that people from Sweden may be Swedish, but like in Canada, not all Swedish are actually Swedes. In fact, most of my conversations with locals in Sweden took place with people from the Middle East. Iran, Iraq, Egypt, Turkey, Lebanon, and the list continues. The cab driver that took me to my "ferry" was from Africa and we had a very nice discussion about the difference between "ship" and "chip" in English and about the Swedish equivalent of "cheque day" in Canada, when those on social security get their cheques and go buy food, or in his case, hire cabs. These particular folks (the come-from-away's) often speak the best English and are the friendliest. Unfortunately, they all seem to be a part of the service industry (not the fun parts) just the same as in Canada.
All of that aside, upon reflecting on my trip to Sweden I noticed one thing more than many other things. The Swedish really like to shop. There were streets lined with stores of every variety and all of them were busy. People on weekday nights filled the pedestrian streets and rushed around buying things (there were 5 H&M's in a 2 block radius!). Those of you who have ever walked with me (or in front of me as I ran you over) know that I walk at a speed just shy of running, but in Sweden, I was going slowly even while hurrying. I commented to a cab driver that there seemed to be a lot of people out and about for a weekday and he said that the Swedish economy is very cyclical. Money goes in, money goes out. Lots of it, quickly. Maybe I was meant to be Swedish!
I very much enjoyed my time in Sweden. As I watched the ship pull out of the harbour I was a little sad to be leaving. In my time there I had successfully managed to navigate my way around most of the city. Alone, at that. For my first time away I was happy to have been in a place that allowed me to function in my native language and to pick some of the very phonetic Swedish language while seeing the sites. I'm a bit afraid to be giving that up. Even on the ship, already fewer people speak English. Hopefully, that means I'll be able to pick up some Estonian quickly, forced out of necessity perhaps, but learning a new language nonetheless. It will just be less comfortable.
Lastly, I just wanted to tell you that today an Iraqi woman, as I was boarding the ship, asked if I was alone. Upon my reply of "Yes." she then asked if I was afraid. I said no, realizing that I actually wasn't and finding that very odd. This experience so far has been very matter of fact. My head just tells the rest of me, "Ok, this is Iceland." or, "Ok, this is Sweden." and then that's the end of it. For a person who panics when one little thing is out of place, I thought I'd be in a proper mess right now. Maybe, though, that could be because I'm out of place, not my surroundings. Me. The person is not where she should be. But then, where IS the person supposed to be? I don't know. Something to think about, I guess.
Next stop: Tallinn, Estonia.
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