Betsy Devine: Funny ha-ha and/or funny peculiar

I blogged last year about some Swedish surprises, many enjoyable but others disconcerting.

One
of my discoveries this trip is that Swedish “aha” isn’t quite like an
English “aha.” In (American)
English, “aha!” is an exclamation of great surprise, said with a bounce
like “Wow!” or “Eureka!” or
“Unbefriggin’lievable!” In Swedish English, “aha” expresses a kind of
friendly interest, something like maybe “Mmmm”or “Tell me more.”

Why is this disconcerting? Imagine somebody who often says “Wow” in
tones of polite restraint and you’ll understand.

My brother Kevin just sent me some great photographs–this one reminded me (aha!) of my first surprise at the northern European “two-bed double bed.” In America, two people who share a bed are sharing one undivided mattress covered by the same top sheet and quilt(s). In Sweden, the shared bed now has a cold hard divide down the middle. The best thing about the Swedish two-mattress system is that nobody will tease you about stealing the covers all onto your side of the bed.

One great surprise this time was the
meringue cake served at the Operakälleren. Fortunately, the
wonderful Lena (who races sled dogs in her spare time from winning
prizes for cooking) says that she will send me the recipe–because that
cake is  Aha! and Wow! and even Eureka!

One of my original goals in Nobel-blogging was to help future laureates dodge those “if only I had known” moments. So, here in one handy location, are just a few:

1. When you fill out a form with everyone’s name, profession, and title–“title” doesn’t mean “job title” as in the US, it means titles like Professor, Dr., Mrs., maybe HRH or even Duke of Earl. Oops! I was surprised but not unhappy to end up with “Författare” (Swedish for “writer”) on my Nobel banquet place setting–but I wonder what happened to friend Naomi, whose dual career I’d summed up as “Film director and hotel owner”…
2. Laureates and spouses don’t have to figure out how to get to the Grand Hotel from Arlanda Airport–or how to get anywhere else, for that matter–because the Nobel Committee delivers a huge Volvo limousine with a great driver (thank you, Harald!) almost to the door of the airplane.
3. When you arrive at the Royal Palace for dinner on December 11, don’t draw the conclusion from previous banquets that you should start shaking hands along the huge reception line to your left. Your job is to stand in a reception line on the right.
4. Don’t worry about making my mistakes, or new ones of your own, because your “Nobel attendant” (thank you, Cecilia!) will rescue you with good-humored clever kindness.

One of my original goals in Nobel-blogging was to help future laureates dodge those “if only I had known” moments. So, here in one handy location, are just a few:

1. When the Nobel committee asks you to list each guest’s “title,” they don’t mean “job title” as in the US, they mean titles like Professor, Dr., Mrs., maybe HRH or even Duke of Earl. If you know this, you won’t end up with “Författare” (Swedish for “writer”) on your Nobel banquet place card, and I hate to think what they listed from my friend Naomi whose dual career I summed up as “Film director and hotel owner”.
2. Laureates and spouses don’t have to figure out how to get to the Grand Hotel from Arlanda Airport–or how to get anywhere else, for that matter–because the Nobel Committee delivers a huge Volvo limousine with a great driver (thank you, Harald!) almost to the door of the airplane.
3. When you arrive at the Royal Palace for dinner on December 11, don’t start shaking hands with all the people lined up in a huge reception line to the left of the door. Your job is to find your own spot because you have to stand in the same reception line they do.
4. Don’t worry about making my mistakes, or new ones of your own, because your “Nobel attendant” (thank you, Cecilia!) or some other helpful Swedish person, will rescue you with good-humored clever kindness.

A delicate snow is falling on Cambridge right now–I love Halley’s flour-sifter image.  Good-bye, stick-figure skeletons of summer mint plants! I don’t want my memories to have similar
fates…

The SVT tape of Frank with the Rymdgymnasiet students who dressed up as aliens will probably vanish by Thursday, Dec. 30 (but thanks to Odd Minde for sending the link to me)

http://svt.se/svt/jsp/Crosslink.jsp?d=2528&visaart=true&visadep=false
Torsdag kl 22.15 (Frank starts about 2/3 of the way through the program)

Of course, I can still ask Frank to sing Abba tunes in real life…

Anyway, I’ve started posting my own Nobel photo albums.

And thanks to Digitala Bonder–someone I don’t know–who Flickr-ed a photo of me with Prince Carl Philip.

Just got home–soooooo sleepy–I’ll blog more about our northern adventures but first I want to jump back to Stockholm University’s ceremony of the Ever Jumping and Smiling Green Frog on December 13–one of the most fun parties we’ve ever enjoyed.

As the youngest laureate, Frank discovered (after the first few drinking songs and toasts with aquavit) that he would be making a midnight thank-you speech. He scribbled 7 pairs of rhyming words on a paper napkin and delivered the following:

I’m well aware that the primary virtue of a speech like this is brevity. I couldn’t come up with a worthy haiku, so you’ll have to settle for a sonnet. The sonnet is a strict form, that requires fourteen lines. Here goes.

When studying physics, who would have thunk,
It’d lead to public sonnetizing, quasi-drunk
After days of partying and eating like a hog
Climaxed by jumping around like a frog.

Through it all I’ve found that I’m taking a liking
For living life large, like a Viking.
So, when I return to my peaceful local village
I’ll be tempted to indulge in some looting and pillage.

But you’ve taught me how Swedes got past doing wrongs:
By investing time, instead, in learning drinking songs.
On the surface everyone seems calm and nice
But beneath, in reserve, there is plenty of spice.

For this lesson, frog, and fun: Thanks a lot!
That’s fourteen lines, it’s all I’ve got.

Footnote: We are now home in our peaceful village, but I now want sleep a lot more than looting and pillage…

What a glorious place–more later, as we have to dash off to visit the Space High School…

Hans from Stockholm [1] sent this email to you through Betsy Devine: Funny Ha-Ha or Funny Peculiar? [2] regarding this page [3].

Keep up the good work, no answer expected…

Thanks, Hans!

Hi mom-
How’s the frozen north?  the frog ball?  I’m dying to hear more about
the secret rituals and bismuth amphibians.
love
mickey

I’m blogging from the conference center at Esrange, just about to go watch a stratospheric balloon launch. And I will not neglectthe frog ball but first a quick core-dump of this morning’s notes, as we drove from the Ice Hotel (loved it!) to the space station:

Kiruna is home to about 500 people who make a living by herding reindeer and an equal number of space scientists…

Some of whome are waiting for me now–more later!