Home in Sweden - 4. Finally, jag lära mig svenska!!

Bleary eyed, half asleep and half annoyed, I started up my computer on Monday morning. Half asleep not because it was that early in the morning. Bleary eyed, not because I had not had enough sleep. Both simply because I didn´t take the many minutes I usually do to laze around in bed to properly wake up before actually getting up. Half annoyed for the same reason. Actually, I was probably more annoyed at the reason I deprived myself of those few minutes.

Let us back track. Firstly, the Norwegian class never took off. At least, for me it didn´t. More correctly put, I decided against it. For many reasons. I have nothing against learning Norwegian in general and would jump at the opportunity the next time it comes along. In the circumstances however, it was nothing other than disheartening. The fact that I had to learn Norwegian simply because I could not get into the Swedish class itself reduced my motivation to learn Norwegian by half. The timing of the class was also not ideal. But the crux was, I did not know what that would bring me. Yes, I would know a bit of Norwegian. I would probably understand almost the same amount of Swedish (as if I had taken one semester´s worth of Swedish lessons) and would also be equally understood in Sweden. I would be able to read Swedish probably well as I would be able read in Norwegian. The words are similar enough that I would probably be able to recognise the words in Swedish, I am told. But I would not be able to write, I don´t think, because I would have never learn how any given word differs in Swedish. All that put me off a bit, but I still was not convinced I should opt out of Norwegian. It was, after all, free. And it was, after all, better than nothing. Then came the point in time when I was looking at learning materials and was considering buying something. I realised I would then have to buy Norwegian learning materials as well as Swedish learning materials. I could have probably come to terms with that. I stumbled over the dictionary hurdle. What dictionary was I to get? I definitely needed a bilingual dictionary and I had enough problems trying to decide if I should get the dictionary with English or German as the accompanying language. Then there was the question of whether to get a Swedish or Norwegian dictionary. If I got a Swedish dictionary, I would probably be a bit lost in the Norwegian class. And I am unfortunately that person, who has to have a dictionary of the language I am learning. But with a Norwegian dictionary, it meant I would just have to get a new Swedish dictionary at a later point.

And what about the Swedish lessons I would not doubt take when I arrive in Sweden? Would my certificate in Norwegian (assuming of course I took the course, and sat for the exam, and passed) entitle me to join the next level of the Swedish class? Or would I have to start from the beginning of the beginning?? Once all these questions started piling up in my head, it was clear to me that Norwegian was a bad idea. I decided to just have faith that it would work out. Things have often worked out for me when I faithfully left it up to the greater forces. Banking on faith, I de-registered from Norwegian.

Mindful that God helps those who help themselves (the lottery prayer joke comes to mind*), I went to speak to the Swedish teacher one more time. Again, she told me very sweetly that she could not allow me in the class if I was not registered. But she did agree, upon my request, to send me an email to let me know if there were any students who failed to show up for any of the classes leaving a place free for me to slide in. This email I eventually received on the Friday immediately preceding the fateful Monday morning I begun talking about earlier. She informed me (and all the other wannabe Swedish language students) that there was 1 place available in each of the two beginner Swedish classes. These, she said, would be made available online at about 11 am on Monday morning or later.

Scheiße, I thought. I was going to be in Sweden on Monday, and had an appointment at noon, and would therefore have to take leave of any internet connection by 11.30am at the latest. I had next to no doubt that the free spot would not be made available before 11.30am. I did not expect to be back again by 2pm, at the earliest. By which time, the two available spots would be gone. Scheiße.

So I resigned myself to having to try to learn Swedish on my own. That, however, did not stop me from dragging myself out of bed on Monday morning. As soon as I was awake, or rather as soon as I was capable of coherent thought upon waking up, thoughts of the Swedish course crept surreptitiously into my mind. Now, once that happened, I knew that I could forget about sleep. Even if I did manage to fall asleep again, I would have probably dreamt about checking that damned website a hundred times. So, drag myself out of bed I did, and made my way, bleary eyed, to the desk where my laptop awaited. As I waited for my laptop to start up, I found myself looking forward to later that day, sometime in the afternoon perhaps. By then, the whole Swedish drama would be over. I would then know for certain that I no longer have a chance to get into the course and could then finally stop obsessing about it. This looking forward was of course done under a cloud of hazy sleepiness.

When I finally got online and logged onto the Uni website, I jolted to a sudden stated of shocked wakefulness. There was a spot available for the course!! Already, at 9.30am!! For about two seconds, my mind went blank. I had checked that website at least a hundred times in the past few weeks, hoping to see exactly what was before my eyes. In the moment as it was finally happening, I had no idea what to do next. This, as I said, lasted about two seconds. These were followed by a flurry of activity as I flapped (as flapped, and thank God no one else was around to see me flapping) around the apartment, looking for my handy organizer** in which I had written the super secret transaction numbers I needed to register for the course. Despite being resigned to not getting a place in the course, I had thankfully the foresight to copy down the super secret transaction number into my handy organizer for just such a happy eventuality. I typed the number in as quickly as I could. I had images of various other bleary eyed student sitting at their computers doing exactly the same thing in that moment, so every second counted. The first one of us (us here being me and the other imaginary student doing the same thing) to click on "Register" wins!

Lo and behold, I won! Finally, jag lära mig svenska.

* There was once a man who believed in God. He believed in particular what is said in the good book: Ask, and you shall receive. So he asked. He prayed every night to God that he would win the lottery. He prayed and he prayed and he prayed. The never won the lottery. When his time finally came for him to meet his maker, he had but one question for Him.

"My Lord, " he said. "You said ´ask, and you shall received´. I asked, my Lord, but I didn´t receive. Did You not hear my prayers?", he asked God.

"I heard your prayers. You asked to win the lottery," God said to him.

"Then why did I never win the lottery??" he asked God.

"But my son, you never bought a ticket!"

God helps those to help themselves.

** I mean my useful, convenient organizer as opposed to the organizer on my mobilephone, as may be understood by German speakers.