This is me and Claire the Belgian, chillin', maybe a little bit of illin'.


WORKING LIFE

Working at Kalmars last night. Always good times, make friends with Swedish folk and maybe practice a little Swedish. There was a ‘free jazz’ band (or is that ‘free improv’ jazz?) that played on the stage, so the place was packed. Many burger were flipped and salads prepared by your humble wanderer. During the actual sets there was a complete lull in orders. I took this opportunity to read trivial pursuit cards (in Swedish) to the others. Usually I didn’t know half of what I was saying, but one I knew the answer without any translation. “Vad har hobbiton Bilbo for efternamn?”

At the end of the night we’re cleaning up. I get stuck with bathroom duty. I go to clean the stalls and one in locked. I knock, nobody answers. I knock very loudly and yell, but to no avail. A senior pub master (that’s what they call themselves) goes back. Turns out somebody passed out. And (of course) they threw up on the floor. I went back to check it out. As I round the corner I see a little puke near the toilet. “That’s not so bad” I think. Then I enter the stall and see the other half. “That is…so bad.” Fortunately we had some powder stuff that dries puke right up.

Then I got stuck at the dishwasher. I was washing this thick, cast iron pan in which we fry the falafel and I realized I had no idea at what point to consider this thing clean. It was black as sin and encrusted with I don’t know how many years worth of grease. So I stopped, dried it and called the job done.

Maybe you’d like a little detail about the people at Kalmar, rather than just the boring details? (all people are Swedish unless otherwise indicated)
-Sophia, the bar master. She has black dreadlocks and studies music theory and sings. I suggested to her that we start a ukulele/singing duo, to which she laughs. I think that means yes. She serves drinks and takes orders while the rest of us slave in the kitchen
-Pia and Anna, the fika masters. They work during the week making pastries and then run the fika on Sunday. Pia is always in Kalmar baking something. Both are very nice.
-Julia, kitchen master. Julia reminds me very much of this girl I knew in Chicago, Erica W.T. I asked if she had any relatives in Chicago but she said no. Grew up in Uppsala, parents are professors and I think she’ll be a ‘lifer’ here in Uppsala. Talking with her have given me interesting insight into the non-university part of Uppsala.
-Johan, kitchen master. Solid fellow. Likes to discuss music, of which I know little. But he always brings his ipod and had a good play list (very important in a kitchen environment).
Cathy, kitchen master. She’s from Britain. She’s been here a year already, and has a steady Swedish boyfriend. She graduates at the end of this term and is much worried about having to go home to Britain.

The rest of us workers are called ‘resources’ (as opposed to masters). I don’t think I’ve yet worked with the same resource twice. About half are foreign, half Swedish.

There you go, something about “klubb work” at Kalmar, the little nation with a big heart.

Tomorrow I leave for Sälan, Sweden, to go Skiing for the weekend. I’m going with the Flogsta crowd (all those French and Italians). Should be fun. It’ll be nice for a change of pace. The past few weeks have been a little routine.

Lastly, I finished up East of Eden and I’m pretty sure it’s the best novel ever. Ever.

-The Wandering Norseman-