Day I have Already Lost Count

I’m well into my second month now, and have lost count of the number of days I’ve been in Sweden. Is this a good sign?

I’ve acclimatised to the weather (somewhat) and am now rather comfortable (somewhat) with the cold, so much so that I walk back to my apartment from church everyday quite slowly. Is this a good sign?

I’ve gotten very comfortable with the life here, to the point that things may be a little routine. Is this a good sign?

Even then, I still see things that amuse and amaze me.

Let’s start from last evening after Mass. I was lounging at the small table in the main hall, reading The Tablet, a weekly English newsletter from Britain (Simple deduction, since the articles are written mainly with a British angle.). At the table were Janka (Jana) and Maruska (Marie). They prefer to be called by their pet names. I’m told in the Czech Republic, they prefer to have their names called with a softer end to them. Think of the Japanese who add –san, and –chan to the end of the names. Anyway, we were there minding our own business when a man came up and talked to me. It’s still normal till now, yah?

Anyway, I couldn’t really understand what he said because he had a little stutter and wasn’t very clear when he spoke in English. Plus he kept mumbling something. But I managed to understand most of what he said. The first thing he asked me was if I were from Hong Kong.

“No, I’m from Singapore.”, I replied.

Still normal, yah?

Somehow he totally ignored Janka and Maruska. When asking questions supposed to be naturally directed to them, such as where they are from, he asked me instead. Huh? I’m not their mouthpieces.

Then he mumbled something to himself about girls from the Czech Republic are always very pretty. And asked me again if I’m from Hong Kong!

Hello? I said Singapore. But of course, the polite me replied properly.

“Ah… Singapore, Hong Kong, Macau. They are the same.”

Please loh. Even though we are in the same time zone, and I’m of mainly Chinese descent. Even though both Singapore and Hong Kong were British colonies, and are rather well developed, these three places are very different in nature. Hong Kong and Macau are Special Administrative Regions (SAR) of China, and Singapore is an independent country loh. Moreover, our cultures are very different, even though Singapore has no unique culture to speak of, unless you consider the rojak of cultures a uniquely Singaporean thing. I resent being called a Hong Konger. Try calling an Aussie an American; a Malaysian, Singaporean; a Swede, Finn.

And he went on about how Singapore and Hong Kong are in the same country… Blah, blah, blah…

Argh! I’m from the little red dot!

Good thing we managed to get away after 5 minutes.

Now, let’s fast forward to this evening.

I witnessed my first protest! The very first time in my life! You never get to see such things in Singapore. They had banners, posters, loud hailers and a crowd watching. And this is considered a small scale demonstration. I recognised the words demonstration and protest in the posters they pasted around the town. But I didn’t understand what they were protesting about. I only caught two words – Uppsala and international.

Perhaps they are against having too many international students in Uppsala? Better run before they start shooting me make an example out of me. I obviously do not belong.

Anyway, I was going to be late for Mass.

Do they have to get a permit from the police to speak in public or a permit to hold a demonstration? We do. Ah… the freedom of speech. Without consequences. Boon or bane?

Cool. I saw a demonstration; a protest. Will I get to see a strike, a protest march or a sit-in during my time here?