Updates
Lots to report!
1. I went to the doctor for the first time in Sweden this morning. Or rather, what I THOUGHT was the doctor. You all may recall that a few weeks ago I received a letter from the government, or, as THS calls it, "Papa," saying that I was due for my yearly gynecological exam. Turns out when you go in for your routine pap smear, you don't see a doctor, nor a nurse, but rather a midwife.
The medical facility was in one of those luxurious, blonde-wood Scandinavian buildings. The office itself, while looking in most ways like a doctor's office, was all about the cozy, as per usual. In the waiting room there was soft, pretty, yellow lighting. Tea candles flickered on the side tables, and a big pitcher of water with lemon stood on a tray. Not far off was a massive children's play area with expensive looking wooden toys. The midwife who checked me out put on a linen apron when she did the exam that looked like something you'd buy at Laura Ashley Home. She was cool but not unfriendly. It was fine. So to sum up, I'd say Martha Stewart might have been anticipated here. But she can catch up -- I envision a new magazine entitled Martha Stewart Hospital Living. Generally I think your experience at the doctor's tells a lot about the culture you're living in. Some day maybe I'll get around to describing my crazy, crazy, German doctors.
2. Earlier this week I was one of only four students in my class of fifty who was cleared to take the national test in December. The way it works is that we have the choice of doing this course in ten weeks, twenty weeks, or thirty weeks. Twenty weeks is the recommended period, but this way, if I pass I'll get to finish it in ten. It was a nice thing, and yes, you're right to assume I'm proud of it, but there was also a pretty negative aspect as well.
At first, it didn't seem as if it was anything special to take the test, just par for the course. My teacher, Helén, whom I adore for the most part but who has already proven herself to be less than diplomatic on other occasions, came right up to me as class was ending. She returned my essay, and then spoke to me very casually about taking the test in December. So far so good. It all seemed perfectly casual and normal, not as if I was being singled out.
However, at the time she spoke to me, I happened to be sitting directly next to my Egyptian friend, Atef, who could hear everything she said whether he wanted to or not. It so happens that Atef and I have been talking about trying to finish the course as quickly as possible from the beginning. He has been here three years, and is eager to learn Swedish quickly and efficiently now that he has some time off work (when he first got here he didn't have time to learn Swedish academically). He's very fluent, and very intelligent. This school where I am now is touted as a "flex" school, where students supposedly can move through at their own pace. So that's why he's here. He really wants to finish up and take the test. So Atef went to her just a moment later and said he'd like to take the test as well. Right in front of me, whom she had only just invited, Helen told him almost flat out that he couldn't take the test. Only those who were invited could take it. It was only then that I realized that it was exclusive -- I think if I had known I would have at the very least distanced myself so that I wouldn't be standing RIGHT THERE as she was so curt with him. It was very embarrassing. And she didn't say: "You're just not there yet," because frankly, I'm sure she isn't even aware of what his Swedish level is. In a class of fifty, how could she be? EVERYONE in the class is pretty fluent, in their way. All that had happened to decide who was to take the test was that our reading journals, which we turn in to the teachers every week, had been evaluated to see at what writing level we were. The few good ones were allowed to take the test.
In any case, I felt really bad for Atef, and I have trouble understanding why they discourage a motivated student from taking a test. It would just mean that he'd study harder and with more interest for a few weeks, even if he did fail in the end. How can that be a bad thing?
3. Back to topic: since finding out that I'm going to take this darn national test, I've been stressing myself out. Apparently it will be in the first week of December. THE FIRST WEEK. I really would like to pass it; I still don't think it's a great thing for me to be in this course forever, as my savings dwindle, much as I'm enjoying it. On the other hand, it is a bit ridiculous. Supposedly the test is the same one that Swedish fifteen-year-olds take before they enter highschool (gymnasium). I will have had all of SIX WEEKS of Swedish study behind me when I take it. I'm good at languages, but I'm not THAT good. I have never even learned the Swedish past tenses (I keep meaning to study that but I always get sidetracked!). I parrot what I hear people say, which works okay for the most common verbs, but it doesn't give me very much latitude in terms of expressing myself. I end up just making up past forms of verbs, which drives THS crazy. What I am good at is studying for a specific test. But there are no sample tests available, so that's out the window. I can't decide whether to resign myself to not passing, or to stay stressed for the next three weeks as I try to do the impossible.
4. Because it's my obsession and all I do with my time, I'll tell you more news about my Swedish studies, but I do apologize because I know it's boring. I'll forgive you if you stop reading here.
-- I still can't manage to speak with my Swedish friends in social settings, and that's sort of uncomfortable and depressing.
-- BUT I have completely switched over to Swedish for daily errands, with capital results. Today at the doctor I spoke Swedish from start to finish, and it was glorious.
-- In class on Tuesday while we were doing small group work and I had to repeatedly explain what words meant (ah, ye olde helper, German!), one of my fellow students asked me by the way if I was a Swede. I assumed she was making a complimentary joke because, well, as I said, I am not THAT good, and secondly, um...shouldn't it strike her as unlikely that a Swedish person would want to take this Swedish language course?? But in the end she turned out to be in earnest. All in all, she doesn't seem to be the brightest light on the Christmas tree/Menorah, but it still made me feel good, bless her soul.
1. I went to the doctor for the first time in Sweden this morning. Or rather, what I THOUGHT was the doctor. You all may recall that a few weeks ago I received a letter from the government, or, as THS calls it, "Papa," saying that I was due for my yearly gynecological exam. Turns out when you go in for your routine pap smear, you don't see a doctor, nor a nurse, but rather a midwife.
The medical facility was in one of those luxurious, blonde-wood Scandinavian buildings. The office itself, while looking in most ways like a doctor's office, was all about the cozy, as per usual. In the waiting room there was soft, pretty, yellow lighting. Tea candles flickered on the side tables, and a big pitcher of water with lemon stood on a tray. Not far off was a massive children's play area with expensive looking wooden toys. The midwife who checked me out put on a linen apron when she did the exam that looked like something you'd buy at Laura Ashley Home. She was cool but not unfriendly. It was fine. So to sum up, I'd say Martha Stewart might have been anticipated here. But she can catch up -- I envision a new magazine entitled Martha Stewart Hospital Living. Generally I think your experience at the doctor's tells a lot about the culture you're living in. Some day maybe I'll get around to describing my crazy, crazy, German doctors.
2. Earlier this week I was one of only four students in my class of fifty who was cleared to take the national test in December. The way it works is that we have the choice of doing this course in ten weeks, twenty weeks, or thirty weeks. Twenty weeks is the recommended period, but this way, if I pass I'll get to finish it in ten. It was a nice thing, and yes, you're right to assume I'm proud of it, but there was also a pretty negative aspect as well.
At first, it didn't seem as if it was anything special to take the test, just par for the course. My teacher, Helén, whom I adore for the most part but who has already proven herself to be less than diplomatic on other occasions, came right up to me as class was ending. She returned my essay, and then spoke to me very casually about taking the test in December. So far so good. It all seemed perfectly casual and normal, not as if I was being singled out.
However, at the time she spoke to me, I happened to be sitting directly next to my Egyptian friend, Atef, who could hear everything she said whether he wanted to or not. It so happens that Atef and I have been talking about trying to finish the course as quickly as possible from the beginning. He has been here three years, and is eager to learn Swedish quickly and efficiently now that he has some time off work (when he first got here he didn't have time to learn Swedish academically). He's very fluent, and very intelligent. This school where I am now is touted as a "flex" school, where students supposedly can move through at their own pace. So that's why he's here. He really wants to finish up and take the test. So Atef went to her just a moment later and said he'd like to take the test as well. Right in front of me, whom she had only just invited, Helen told him almost flat out that he couldn't take the test. Only those who were invited could take it. It was only then that I realized that it was exclusive -- I think if I had known I would have at the very least distanced myself so that I wouldn't be standing RIGHT THERE as she was so curt with him. It was very embarrassing. And she didn't say: "You're just not there yet," because frankly, I'm sure she isn't even aware of what his Swedish level is. In a class of fifty, how could she be? EVERYONE in the class is pretty fluent, in their way. All that had happened to decide who was to take the test was that our reading journals, which we turn in to the teachers every week, had been evaluated to see at what writing level we were. The few good ones were allowed to take the test.
In any case, I felt really bad for Atef, and I have trouble understanding why they discourage a motivated student from taking a test. It would just mean that he'd study harder and with more interest for a few weeks, even if he did fail in the end. How can that be a bad thing?
3. Back to topic: since finding out that I'm going to take this darn national test, I've been stressing myself out. Apparently it will be in the first week of December. THE FIRST WEEK. I really would like to pass it; I still don't think it's a great thing for me to be in this course forever, as my savings dwindle, much as I'm enjoying it. On the other hand, it is a bit ridiculous. Supposedly the test is the same one that Swedish fifteen-year-olds take before they enter highschool (gymnasium). I will have had all of SIX WEEKS of Swedish study behind me when I take it. I'm good at languages, but I'm not THAT good. I have never even learned the Swedish past tenses (I keep meaning to study that but I always get sidetracked!). I parrot what I hear people say, which works okay for the most common verbs, but it doesn't give me very much latitude in terms of expressing myself. I end up just making up past forms of verbs, which drives THS crazy. What I am good at is studying for a specific test. But there are no sample tests available, so that's out the window. I can't decide whether to resign myself to not passing, or to stay stressed for the next three weeks as I try to do the impossible.
4. Because it's my obsession and all I do with my time, I'll tell you more news about my Swedish studies, but I do apologize because I know it's boring. I'll forgive you if you stop reading here.
-- I still can't manage to speak with my Swedish friends in social settings, and that's sort of uncomfortable and depressing.
-- BUT I have completely switched over to Swedish for daily errands, with capital results. Today at the doctor I spoke Swedish from start to finish, and it was glorious.
-- In class on Tuesday while we were doing small group work and I had to repeatedly explain what words meant (ah, ye olde helper, German!), one of my fellow students asked me by the way if I was a Swede. I assumed she was making a complimentary joke because, well, as I said, I am not THAT good, and secondly, um...shouldn't it strike her as unlikely that a Swedish person would want to take this Swedish language course?? But in the end she turned out to be in earnest. All in all, she doesn't seem to be the brightest light on the Christmas tree/Menorah, but it still made me feel good, bless her soul.
posted by Ida at 11:13 AM
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