Sweden, becoming a fortress

I am watching the Canadian prime minister Justin Trudeau welcoming the Syrian refugees. Giving them permanent residence permits at the airport terminal, social security numbers and health cards. Inviting them to become Canadians. Expressing it’s a wonderful evening. And I am thinking wow. It is possible!

I am not proud to be a European theses days. And I am ashamed to be Swedish. I am even ashamed about my city Umeå. In only a couple of months Sweden has moved from letting everybody in need in, to building a fortress. The national conservative party Sverigedemokraterna (Sweden Democrats) much despised opinions about refugees and immigration have in a very short time become politically okay and the Social Democrat/Green government this week agreed on a law which will definitely change the earlier polished image of Sweden for the worst.

The pressure from the masses fleeing from Syria, Iraq and Afghanistan is high in the bottle neck passage between Denmark and Sweden. ID controls on the ferries is already a fact. And on the new year there will also be ID checks on trains and buses. The reason, in the this week passed proposition, is “a severe threat to public order and internal security”. And the purpose is to make less refugees come here, and transform Sweden to a less attractive country. What a goal.

A severe threat to public order and internal security. Now, this is interesting. 154 758 refugees have , this far, sought for asylum in Sweden 2015, twice as many as was predicted this summer. That’s a lot. And we weren’t prepared. Of them, about half the number, gets to stay in Sweden.

The situation at the south Swedish border is very difficult. Unaccompanied children get lost and vanishes. Malmö (Malmoe), where the peak pressure is, this week asked five other cities to let some of the pressure off, helping Malmö out, becoming transit locations for unaccompanied children. Umeå was one of them. All the cities except Umeå responded yes. Apparently we couldn’t handle it. Note that Umeå is scoring very low welcoming refugees in general. A city with the self image of being open and tolerant.

We can’t handle it. Public order.

Sweden is a well organized, well functioning and well being country. The tolerans for disorder is low. What we perceive as chaos might to others be serenity.

The word chaos is used a lot here these days. As well as out of control. The refugee situation is so chaotic and out of control that we need to take a breather.  That’s why the ID-controls on ferries, buses and trains. The Swedish government in the proposition this week even tried to sneak in the option closing Öresundsbron (the bridge connecting Sweden to Denmark) if necessary, but that one didn’t pass. And who is going to handle the ID checks? Well, people working on the buses and trains! Evaluating Middle Eastern drivers licenses!

I know the situation is extremely strained and I appreciate the concerns. It’s not ideal people being on the run from terror for months finally arriving in the country for their goal, having to sleep outside in the cold because there isn’t room for them inside. But it’s probably better than being rejected and sent away. 

It’s not ideal being offered beds in tents, but it’s a roof over the head and the tents are warm. It’s not ideal being too many in an asylum accommodation, but there is food and clothes. It’s not ideal starting school without interpreters, but the children get to meet Swedish kids having a chance for friends in the new country and learning the foreign language from there.

But we can’t handle it. And I would say it is not in concern over our guests in need not being treated as well as we expect us to do. It’s about our organized country being stirred up by the disorganized world coming here messing with our systems and protocol.

The now viral video of Justin Trudeau welcoming and dressing Syrians just out of the airplane is of course a well arranged photo op. The refugees look like they have had a make over already on the flight. And 25 000 people is not many for such a big country, but it’s more than the even bigger U.S. and a lot of the European countries. And the photo op is still real. The facts are real and the Canadian prime minister is expressing an open face, a warm heart and generosity.

In Europe, all I see now is strained shut down faces. Cold eyes. Building a fortress. Even my own country. And that, to me, is very painful. I am thankful, this Lucia Day, for the new Paris climate agreement sending a bright light telling that it’s actually possible for the world to come together. Thank you.

It's been three years now

3PM and the December darkness is falling with the semi cloudy sky behind my grandfather’s crummy mountain ashes as a back drop. I feel like those trees. Old. Beaten. A couple of them I have taken out already. The rest are way over due. Sad and week. The storms tend to make an end to rotten and hollow stems now and then. 

When I was a child, we had our hide away in a tree house in the sturdiest one. I can still feel the power in my body climbing up there, and the freedom on the platform in the greenery, sensing the movement of the tree. Looking at the world from above. Later, I let my family’s clothes dry on a line between two of them. Tiny colorful baby clothes, eventually transforming to over size black teen age t-shirts.  And of course there was a basket hoop. Those crummy trees carry life times. As I.

They are my view from the couch where I have lived my life for the past three years. Yes, it’s been three years now since my back crashed in such a bad way I have never recovered. That’s not what I pictured that day of course. I had crashed before, sometimes it lasted for a couple of weeks, once it took me six months to get back on my feet. But I always did. Not this time.

It was a huge step letting strangers into my house to help me out. It was giving in and letting go of my autonomy and power. But I had no choice. I had to save my children from being completely burned out taking care of me. And in Sweden society has to step in when you are in this kind of need.

But I have been, and still am, forced to fight for my rights. It is the City of Umeå who makes the decision about how much aid I am allowed. The officials are not too generous, and often heartless. I have even been to court in these matters, and lost.

My salvation is the company I am hiring for doing the job (which the City pays), a small local one, Civil Care. They have stood by my side all through these years and are doing everything they can to make my life as tolerable as possible.

So, what is it like, my life? Well, it’s basically tied up in strict routines and pain. I occasionally have better days, but I can’t cheer on those in public out of fear of the City cutting my aid. The treatments and different medications, which are an absolute necessity, are expensive and economy is a constant struggle and dread as my possibility of working is significantly restricted. During my better periods I sing in my choir, even though some of my alto colleagues’ patience with my coming and going and special arrangements is at it’s end. And, as I can’t get around and not plan for socials or throw parties and get togethers, I don’t really see or hear (with a few exceptions) from people any more. I’ve always seen keeping friendship as a job (which I was happy doing), and when I am not doing it, it doesn’t happen.

Do I sound bitter? Of course I am. Bitterness is a severely forbidden feeling, so shameful it’s generally hidden in the dark, disguised in looking from the bright side and smiles and things could be a lot worse and I’m okay and there is so much to be grateful for.

Which there is. Truly. During the last two years I have, in spite of my physical restrictions, been producing a documentary, a portray, an assignment it took me nine years to land. Extremely inspiring and rewarding. I live in a country which is for the most part safe and where taxes makes society take care of people in need, like me. Through Civil Care I have several new young friends in my life, and I get to see people every day. My sons are nearby and I am still in the house I love, my home on my grandparents home stead. And I did my final check up at the oncology this spring, after five years of treatment.

Still, of course I would choose a different life if it was within my control. I would have my meals at the kitchen table. I would take long walks and work out at the gym. I would sit at a regular chair during the choir rehearsal and stand through the concerts, like everyone else. I would put all the kitchen utensils in the right places. I would drive my convertible, top down, in the sun with the wind in my hair. I would hunt for and work more. I would go back to Seattle, make my temporary homes in my choice of neighborhood for the time, walk my favorite spots, drive my favorite routes, watch the sunset in Gasworks Park and Highland drive, put up a Seattle office and produce my film portrays there too, so many interesting people who have stories to tell! And I would travel to Italy, find my perfect place at the see and practice the Italian I’ve been studying every day for years now.

But most of all I would invite my children home for dinner. Cook something nice for them. Prepare the dessert. Take care of them. Pamper them. Adjust the screwed up upside-down relationship life has put us in. Be the mother and make them feel the safety coming home as my children.

Sweden on a 4/high-Back in Boliden

It had only been home to him for a month, but really a home it seems.

The aftermath upon the arrest of the 22 year old Iraqi refugee in Boliden, a couple of hours north of Umeå little more than a week ago, have been severe. Did the Swedish Security Service know what they were doing at all? And had every newspaper  in Sweden as well as public service radio and TV lost their mind, releasing a suspects photo and name?

The answer on the second question is yes. The rules for name publishing in Sweden are very strict, and you don’t disclose a suspect. But “preparing a terror attack” was new territory and it seems like everybody sort of got over heated and went over board.

Question one is probably more complicated. The Swedish Security Service claim they acted on intel. And that’s their job.

What is really interesting to me here is how Swedes in general (that is what I am noticing in the media and social media I am choosing, of course), and journalists in particular are upset about SSS action and how they acted, to this open and non hidden young man. His friends in Boliden though, also refugees, open as well, being interviewed, did not question neither the police or the SSS. “They are doing their job, it would be wrong if they didn’t, it’s as simple as that”, was their response.

I am asking a young man who I am seeing a couple of times a week about his opinion. He came to Sweden as an unaccompanied refugee at the age of 16 and he works with my home care company. He has travelled the same journey as the thousands and thousands of refugees struggling their way through Europe this fall. So, what do you think? There is no doubt about it, everyone acting in any way suspicious must be questioned.

The 22 year old was released last Sunday. I am not mentioning his name although I could as it’s out there, but it just doesn’t feel right at the core of the journalist heart deep inside me. I am not mentioning his name although he will continue his life here in Sweden. In Boliden. Because. By the authorities he was offered a new place of his choice to live, anywhere, where he would be a bit more incognito.  But his response was a polite, thank you but no. All I want is to go home to Boliden. I feel safe there. 

The ground in Boliden is covered with snow and the young man is back. He has no idea where the intel about him came from, he himself fled from ISIL and the war. The accusation is what’s hurts, how people could think that he was someone and something he wasn’t. But he holds nu grudge towards the police. Nobody said bad things, he tells he was treated well and they gave him nice meals and clothes.

Next weekend he and his friends are renting a community center throwing a party to celebrate that he is back, inviting everyone in Boliden, serving delicious Arabic food. They want to connect closer with the inhabitants of the small town, saying thank you, striving for creating a life together. And he sends his gratitude to the Swedish police who took good care of him.

I find this moving and touching. And I am learning something important. These people have left unimaginable conditions of life and an extreme regime behind. A 22 year old man who was arrested out of the blue on suspicion preparing a terror attack to the country where he wants to create a life and a future, doesn’t feel violated or bitter, no he expresses gratitude to the Swedish police for taking good care of him.

And. The terror that is pretty much unknown to us but we rightfully fear, is what the young man and his friends know by heart. That’s why they came here. They are as scared as we are that it will strike their new country, possibly even more. That’s what I’m hearing from my friend working with me too. And they are therefore, as I am perceiving it, more tolerant to inquiries and interrogations here, even when it comes to them selves. Let’s only hope the police will continue being an authority treating the refugees and future Swedes so well they will be shown gratitude.

Sweden on a 4-high.

Today the prosecutor decided to release the man arrested on suspicion of preparation to commit a terrorist offense. He is no longer a suspect. But the terrorist threat remains. Sweden is not safe. And this is new to us.

Watching the news early Thursday evening, I hear a reporter talking about the intensified police presence, and with a tendency of a smile, saying that it’s not likely though to find the hunted terrorist in the inlands of northern Sweden. Some hours later the man was caught in the small town Boliden, about two hours north of Umeå.

A week ago Europe was struck and chocked by the terrorist attacks in Paris. It has happened again. This time the target was ordinary people at restaurants, a sports arena and a metal concert. An act carefully organized and successfully conducted, looking at it with ISIL eyes. It seems like we are impotent protecting ourselves against this horrendous force. And this weekend Brussels is on red alert.

The Swedish scale for terrorist threat is a 5-level. In mid September the Swedish Security Service raised the level from a 2  - low, to a 3 - elevated threat. The attack in Paris didn’t change that. 

But on Wednesday the threat was upgraded to 4 - high. The decision was based on material from the National Centre for Terrorist Threat Assessment (NCT) which is responsible for producing threat assessments for Sweden and for Swedish interests abroad. A man was arrested in absentia on November 17 on suspicion of preparation to commit a terrorist offense.

That’s why, most everywhere in Sweden, police were patrolling streets, squares, train and subway stations, bus terminals, and even the northern inland, sparsely populated. Who would have imagined though, that’s where this man would be found?

Sweden has, this far, only had terrorist act as a failed attack. December 2010 two explosions happened in downtown Stockholm. Only the bomber himself died. It could have been so much worse.

There was something peculiar with this man arrested though. A 22-year old who hade been living among the 1600 inhabitants of Boliden with his name on the door at the asylum accommodation since September. Could he really be a terrorist?

It’s been a couple of tensed days here. But no. He wasn’t. It became clear after interrogation. The young man is released and promised support from Swedish authorities. He will need it. To be arrested as a possible terrorist must be nothing less than a trauma.

The Swedish Security Service claims though that the arrest, at that time, was the right thing to do. And Sweden is still on a 4 - high, on the 5-level scale for terrorist threat. As some circumstances still need to be clarified, the work continues. The Swedish Security Service will conduct additional interrogations with a number of people to obtain information on the alleged attack plotting against Sweden, with a view to proving the allegations wrong. Yes. let’s hope that will be the outcome.

What made me really worried, besides being on a 4 - high, was the fact that the arrested man was found in an asylum accommodation. This fall, when the worst refugee situation since World War 2 is happening, I am ashamed to say they are not welcome everywhere. As of late October, 17 asylum accommodations in Sweden were set on fire and the xenophobic forums on the Internet is filled with hatred and abuse.

If an extrovert 22 year old swimming in the public pool and liking the local grocery store in Boliden on Facebook, had done what he was on reasonable suspicion arrested for, the resistance for and the fear of welcoming refugees would certainly increase. I am relieved that wasn’t the case. And hoping asylum accommodations will feel safe both to Swedes and refugees in the future.

This is the case. My case/The end

It started last summer and ended this week.

For those of you following me, you know I have been in a legal process with the City regarding my needs for assistance as I am physically restricted. The contentious issue has been regarding being helped getting from my bed and couch to the bathroom, as well as being assisted to my treatments twice a week. June 2014 my application was denied by the City and November I appealed to the Court of First Instance (Förvaltningsrätten). And lost. 

This was a big disappointment of course. Although my lawyer and I had very little hope about a different outcome, we decided to go forward in the process, appealing to the Court of Second Instance (Kammarrätten). This happened in January 2015. The verdict is absurd in so many ways, and we needed to make our voice heard one more time, no matter the outcome.

On Midsummer’s Eve my lawyer contacted me, with unexpected news. The Court of Second Instance (Kammarrätten), had approved my appeal, which means they were willing to look at the verdict from the Court of First Instance (Förvaltningsrätten)! That’s all there was, the outcome could be in favor to me or not, but  the important thing was, there was something in the verdict they were questioning and willing to look in to!

Neither my lawyer nor I saw this coming and I was so happy for the both of us. He is just the sweetest person, who has put in I am sure at least 30 hours on me, only charging me for 5. And I could tell from the expression on his face he was really excited to get a case like this in Court of Second Instance.

Thursday though, the verdict came. I lost. I have been fighting quite a few battles in my life but never before a legal one.  It lasted for 1,5 years and now it’s over. There is nothing more I can do. I lost. And that’s the end of it.

Move Seattle on the go!

It’s raining in Seattle this weekend. And rain in Seattle means bad traffic. Rain on a weekend even worse traffic. Not that there is ever good traffic in Seattle any more.

As much as I (always) long for and miss Seattle, the thought of traffic makes my belly crunch, my muscles tighten and my pulse rise. To be gridlocked in the Mercer Mess. Stuck at an I5 onramp. Bumper to bumper on the highway. Detoured in Downtown. Sounds like a movie titel.

Seattle is often high ranked on the list of livable cities. But being nr. 7 on the list of most congested cities in the U.S is not a ranking to be proud of. And Seattle’s scores a top-five national ranking for traffic delay. Still, an early summer 2015 survey show that a huge number of Seattle-area commuters — close to half — can’t even imagine a scenario that would get them to ditch the car and take an alternative, even just once a week!

In a scientifically conducted survey more than 6,000 households were asked about  hypothetical scenarios that might entice them to take transit, carpool or van pool at least one additional day per week. For example, gas at $5 per gallon (3,8 liter) elicited the strongest response, but it would still only change the driving behavior of 18.6 percent commuters. And if parking costs were to spike by 50 percent, 11 out of 12 drivers say they’d simply shrug it off. 

To a Swede ca 44 kronor for 3,8 liter gasoline is nothing, but I can tell you parking costs in Seattle already are astronomical, at least compared to the Umeå standards.

The survey even asked if there was something else that hadn’t occurred to the attending that might do the trick. Again, no. Not many drivers could think of some other scenario that would get them out from behind the wheel. The survey seems to suggest that, to some degree current traffic nightmare is a prison of own making. 

There is an upside though. 19.6 percent of respondents said that, if it were an option, they would take high-speed transit rather than drive. As a percentage, that is fairly low, but it projects out to more than 310,000 car commuters in the region. Imagine the impact on rush-hour traffic if that many cars disappeared from the roads! 

And, here is the news: it is fall ballot time, and Proposition 1 in Seattle, to spend a record-high $930 million over nine years on streets, transit, pedestrian and bicycling routes, was winning handily Tuesday this week! 

In March 2015, Mayor Ed Murray introduced Move Seattle, his ten-year transportation vision that integrates plans for transit, walking, biking, and freight. The idea is Move Seattle will help meet current demands while working toward future needs as Seattle continues to grow. Move Seattle envisions a transportation system that contributes to a safe, interconnected, vibrant, affordable, and innovative city.

Who wouldn’t like that for Seattle?! Well, quite a few as it turns out. And of course it’s about the money. Not just the $930 million for Move Seattle, but the nay sayers claim a yes to that kind of tax increase ($279 a year for a mid-value $450,000 home) would pave the way and give a green light for more tax requests.

Anyway, today mayor Ed Murray and about 56.5 percent of voters are happy, and here is the mayor’s plan for action: 

“The first thing I want to get done is that the Safe Routes to School get built everywhere,” Murray said in an interview. The plan calls for equipping roads near every public school to include sidewalks, low speed limits, crosswalks, enforcement cameras or speed bumps.

Sounds good to me!

A light family tradition in the dark

It’s always very beautiful. All the lights. Flickering in the dark. And it strikes me, like so many times before, how on most every grave there are candles lit.

It is All Saint’s Day, Allhelgonadagen, in Sweden. A church holiday becoming more and more dear to us, it seems. When I was a child I remember dad walking to the cemetery to make my grand parents grave look nice for the the pretty dark holiday. It wasn’t that easy to light a candle in the cold or rainy fall back then, as the plastic wrapped ones is a fairly new phenomenon, so only a few vague flares, that’s my memory of my childhood All Saints Day cemetery.

Today every cemetery in Sweden is lit up in honor to our loved ones. The gloomy holiday we payed as little attention as possible has changed to a celebration of light. Some cemeteries even offer coffee for warmth to visitors shivering in the dark.

My parents passed away only six months a part 2004 and 2005, and since then my sister and I have made it a tradition to visit the cemetery in Nordmaling, 45 minutes south of Umeå where we grew up, at All Saints Day. It hasn’t happened every year, but my guess is Trouble & Trouble and their three cousins remember it as an annual event. And it’s not always we are all gathered either, the nicer when we are.

Over the years our little crowd has been blessed with girlfriends and a wife. Which is nice also because we like to sing to our parents/grandparents. And as my sister and I have produced only male voices, imported female voices come in handy.

Yesterday we all met up at the family grave. We lit the candles in the lantern, one tall for dad and one shorter for mom. And then one for my grandparents. The evening was unusually beautiful. Dry, calm, some degrees above freezing point. It wasn’t quite though, as we aren’t that quite. On the contrary, we are pretty loud. I hope no one was offended by our laughters, and if they were, my hope is we were forgiven when singing grandpa’s and grandma’s favorite hymns. We even sang them a Christmas hymn in harmonies, Jul jul strålande jul, as we won’t be there on Christmas Eve.

This year we also brought them a very special gift. My sister’s oldest son’s one year old daughter. This was her first visit to the family grave, and I can easily picture my parent’s joy watching her toddle around before them, singing already, and looking exactly like my sister that age.

Afterwords we were all invited to my sister’s place for a nice warm dinner, and joined by the little girls newborn baby brother. Only 10 days old he was passed from one arm to another through the evening, we all wanted to have our share of this new family miracle, and he let us. It was so nice of him.

I am happy and grateful to see my sons and their cousins appreciate this tradition. I am happy there is a way for them to visit their beloved grand parents. I feel the value of the stately tombstone my sister and I carefully selected, our parents names engraved in a font my dad would have picked out. The stone is a picture of them, a picture we all recognize and know. It’s a comfort it’s always there. And that we are always welcome.