'Hej' is my favorite Swedish word.

I haven't been here very long, but I've been here long enough to have already developed an appreciation for the Swedish language.  It is a language filled with a lot of crazy and downright funny words to an anglophone like me.

Really?!?  It doesn't strike me as THAT sort of establishment...

Despite the ones that make me chuckle (and there are many), it's actually a different word that I really like;  'Hej'.  Pronounced simply 'Hey', it is an informal greeting used commonly in day to day life here.  I know to most of you this seems like is makes it anything but special, but let me tell you why I like it so much.

First it is the simple fact that it sounds exactly the same as any Canadian would greet a friend.  It's familiarity is comforting.

Second, and more personally profound, is they way it is said.  I have yet to wander into a store or up to ask a stranger a question and not be greeted with a warm and friendly 'Hej'.  To most of you (and by this I mean my fellow Canadians) this is something you probably don't even realize how much you take for granted, and likely don't understand why I am bothering to write about it.  However, after having spent a fair deal of time elsewhere in the world, is amazing to me how deeply this sort of casual friendliness really colours your view of a place.

Sweden is an amazing place, full of all sorts of things I would never find anywhere back in Canada.  Yet it's the little things like a smile and a 'Hej' from a stranger, the sort of thing you find practically EVERYWHERE back home, that make this place wonderful to me.

:)

6 Days!!

A couple days after arriving we went to the local Tax Office to apply for our Personnummers (shockingly it translates to "Person Numbers").   You can't do anything of any real significance in Sweden without one, so once we sorted out the apartment it was job one.

We met our relocation Agent, Åsa, that morning outside the tax office and prepared ourselves for bureaucratic hell.  It's not that we've actually experienced any during any of our dealings with the Swedish government, but it was really a conditioned response after a few years of dealing with the French immigration system.

Immediately we were struck by the differences in styles.  Nowhere to be found was the line hundreds long and three or four wide waiting to get in.  Instead it was like entering a bank, if it were the most helpful bank in the world.

Immediately upon entering the lobby of the office we are greeted by a kiosk staffed by 4 different people, all of whom speak different languages and are there to help and direct you to where you need to be and get you the paperwork you'll need when you get there.  It was like walking into bizarro world... on opposite day: everything made perfect sense and was super easy and orderly.

We took a number an started to fill out the paperwork while we waited.  Before we could even finish the few pages of question-boxes our number had been called.  Åsa took us over to the both and began explaining to the woman on the other side of the desk (a desk, mind you, with chairs for everyone to sit down at, and without 2-inch security glass between us...  again, so un-bizarre!) Anna, our situation.

Anna was calm, courteous and smiled while she happily walked us through the process, in English, about what she needed from us, and even helped us look up the exact apartment number for our new place (as Sweden has recently implemented a new address system, so it's not easy to know what the exact address for an old place like ours would be).    It took her all of five minutes to find this information using her computer, a task that would have likely been impossible in France and would have had us turned away abrupty, and she was happy to help us with it. 

Within 20 minutes of having first set foot in the Tax Office, our application was registered and we were back out on the street, minds still reeling from the simplicity and ease of it all.   But it didn't stop there.

As we wrapped up in the Tax Office Anna informed the three of us that it would likely take two to four weeks to receive our Person Numbers.  We received ours in 6 days.

SIX DAYS.

In six days we have made more process than we did in two years with the French Immigration service (if you can even be so generous as to call it a "service").   We had registered as residents with the government and were officially recognized as such, along with all the benefits that come alone with the status.

Mind.  Blown.   Great work Sweden!  :)

... oh, and to top it off, a Person Number is largely composed of your birthday, in a YYMMDD-XXXX format.  So all you really have to learn to remember is a four digit code and the rest comes naturally.  What a shockingly good system.    After having my Person Number for just a little over 24 hours I already have it memorized.

Gothenburg - Week 1

A little more than a week has passed since we first landed in Sweden, and it feels like it's been a whole lot long than that! 

Despite how long it's felt though, it's been a largely positive week, even from the moment we arrived.  Two friendly older gentleman running the Swedish border control examined our newly minted UT cards (akin to an American Green Card), and we expected to get grilled.   Instead they chatted us up, me about my job in videogames, and Aja about her blue hair and how one one them once had blue hair in his younger years.

You know you're somewhere new when you don't recognize any of your pocket change

Once we officially set foot on Swedish soil it was a whirlwind of events.  The good news is that we have survived, found an apartment and got all of out things delivered all within the course of the first few days of arriving.  This was shockingly fast, and honestly, really just damn lucky timing.

Our new apartment is in an old building right in the heart of Gothenburg, and literally a one minute walk from my new office.   We have more space than back in Paris, about 50% more, which is nice, and the commute is unbeatable.  However, the new place isn't without it's drawback either.

The place is a few hundred years old, so there is tons of character, but not all of it good.   All the floors are slanted towards the rear of the apartment...  and not just slightly either.  It's a noticeable slant, as though the building is too cool to stand up straight and would rather just lean against the building next to it and look like a badboy.

Just like James Dean, our place is too cool to stand up straight

But despite the angled floors, it's still a great place to live.  We are on the top floor (a whopping 2 floors up), and directly below us is one of my co-workers (who is graciously lending us wi-fi access for a couple weeks, and is how I am able to post this inaugural post).  The only other apartment in our section of the building is home to a friendly American who is the niece of our landlord, and all-around a helpful sort of fellow (he lent us the chair I am currently sitting on, as we only have one chair until we get our first paycheque and can afford to get more furniture). 

So obviously we already feel pretty welcome in our little abode,  but even beyond the wall of our little Swedish retreat the city has been a wonderful place to explore thus far. 

Being in the heart of the city, we are in a very nice area.  Unlike many North American cities where the downtown core is the worst part of the city, the opposite is quite true here.   Our street is a cozy side-street, cobblestones and all.  Vehicle traffic is rare on the street surrounding our house, save for morning delivery vans stocking the numerous interesting boutiques.   Rather it is foot traffic, cute shops and places to grab a bite to eat all around.

Found at the bakery downstairs from the new apartment: a bread lobster!

And lets not forget the people.  The atmosphere here is very familiar to a Canadian city, casual and relaxed, with people happy to help you if you need directions.  It's been very easy for us to explore and poke around without fear of being out of place, as everyone is very relaxed and happy to help where they can.   There is rarely a language barrier and never any sense of being looked down on because we only speak English.

It's very refreshing.

I've also been happily snapping pictures with my work phone, which they were kind enough to provide me without even being asked.  While I feel like a bit of a hipster, instagram has been my main outlet for photos.  I will likely continue this trend for the near future, as my crushing workload currently prevents me from doing any serious sight-seeing or photography. 

In the mean time you lot are all stuck with vaguely hipster photos.  I promise I will do my best to keep the hipster level to a minimum.  :)

Well time to pass out,  the jetlag still has a few more days before it's completely passed.