2019: I want things!/So thank you for now

Do you remember this one?

http://homeisawayawayishome.blogspot.com/2019/01/2019-i-want-things.html

It’s been percolating in me for a while: do I really want spending every Sunday writing my blog?

The main reason for this question is the fact that my body has been doing better for a good while. Jinx jinx, that could change any minute, so knock knock knock knock on every piece of wood within reach. But as a result of this improvement my days are a bit changed. 

Right now the afternoon sun is for the first time this winter reaching my west window finding my eyes here on the couch at the end of the road. It might not have happened before because it’s been cloudy. It could also be though that I haven’t been on the couch at this time. Because I am more moveable. Not every day. But some.

This is good news. This is really good news. This is wonderful news.

Thus, I am moving around a bit. Sometimes sitting a little while at my desk in my office. Sometimes at my dining table in my yellow kitchen. Spending time at other locations in my house than my couch gives me opportunities for other activities. Different activities. I am exploring long buried memories of creativity from ancient times. Times when I could go 24-7 on tasks like being in the dark room, sew a suit or sit at the piano crafting a song.

OK, hold your horses! Or hold my horses I should say. I am not DOING these things! I am only thinking about them. But finding these memories makes my mind reach further than my couch. Beyond my computer, a lit up screen and a dark keyboard. What could I do? And what do I want to do? What is my mind, heart and soul missing and longing for? 

I have answers to these questions. I won’t share them with you though, not at this point. I would love to when I have realised one or two of them, so wait for it!

But to make room for other aspects of my creativity I need to make a change for myself. I need to clear my Sundays. Maybe not all of them, but some. 

This is truly a big change. For 7 years and 4 months I have been writing my blog every week. Home is Away, Away is Home. I have been sharing stories about my two cities Umeå and Seattle. I have been reporting about politics. And I have been letting you in to my personal life. A life which has gone through hardships and joy, changes and stagnation. You might have experienced me open and transparent, and that’s correct. Still, what’s most important to me I can’t share. Out of consideration to other people, and maybe also to myself.

In this moment I am struck by anxiety. Can I do this? I love writing, and even though my English is far from perfect and pretty plain, publishing a text every week is great practise. Also, I have had a chancel for formulating and sharing stories, for expressing myself in words, something that is essential to me. Can I be without that?

I don’t have any followers. Yet I know some people are reading my postings. The Blogger statistics is impossible to figure out so I don’t know how many. That doesn’t really matter though. I am merely writing for myself. And you and you and you and you. And I am encouraged and grateful to anyone and everyone who has taken time and focus for my stories over the years.

As I am suffering from grave separation anxiety in general this is not a farewell and goodbye. I will not shut down Home is Away, Away is Home. I still want the possibility to write if I have an important subject or just feel like it or miss it too much. I know I am taking a chance though. Continuity has been one of my strengths and probably the most important factor to why people find me.

Three deer are crossing my field at the base of Dry Mountain in the bright afternoon sun. Spring-winter is saying hello. And I would like to thank you, each end everyone for your attention this far. Who knows, I might very well be back next Sunday!

PS. I am wiggly and out of balance. This is scary. Can I get back to you on this?

Umeå and Seattle on the same snowy page

A Seattle Facebook friend is posting a question: Do you remember the 1996 snowstorm?

I sure do. It was when we stayed for a year and the snow hit the day after Christmas and literally put a 1,5 feet wet white blanket over the city causing all kinds of damage including casualties. A whole family died as their house slided out in the Puget Sound. It was all horrible.

I hope this week’s snow adventure isn’t that bad. It’s funny because right now the weather maps for Seattle and Umeå looks the same. 

Last weekend we had about 30 cm (1 foot) of snow in a storm which made authorities advice to not go outside or at least not take the car. Well, when you live on the countryside you have to anyway, there is no other way to get around. But as Trouble 2 was driving me back home from a downtown choir rehearsal I was glad our car has 4 wheal drive, I don’t think we had made it all the way here to the end of the road otherwise. it looked like the Oregon Dunes. Did I mention it was -14C/7°F…?

This weekend the heaven has blessed us with 20 cm more (0,7 foot). Last weekend was powder, but as the temperatures now are around freezing point, it’s a heavy load. I am sure the snow in Seattle is about the same quality.

Because, as it happens, heaven has emptied it’s snow storage in Seattle at the same time as over here. And I can see from friends pictures and Seattle Times it is a lot!

I am grateful though I am here and not in Seattle. For one thing, Umeå is flat. Seattle hilly. That helps. We are equipped, educated and experienced when it comes to driving in snow. Seattleites not so much, for obvious reasons. And plow trucks are working round the clock to not get the city all clogged up.

This is the second winter in a row with lots of snow here on the 64th latitude. It’s beautiful, but difficult when you can’t take care of the snow yourself. On a personal note I am saved by a kind neighbour. Roger comes by every morning and afternoon while walking his dog. He shovels the snow up to my house and he sweeps the front porch. This week he has even been here three times a day. Crafting a perfect path from my gate to the porch. I am so grateful.

I have a measuring point. The poles supporting my cherry trees. Last winter the snow at it’s most covered the shortest of them. 3 feet. As for today, the snow has just reached that point. It isn’t even mid February yet so I am looking forward to a new record. As long as Roger still comes by and lets me out of the house I can allow myself to enjoy the white landscape and the blue February shadows.

Merry Christmas from a winter wonderland at the end of the road!

To be filling my lungs, lifting the tones of Christmas up under the church vaults, that’s food for the soul and stars for heaven!

One really fine thing with being a choral singer is the fact that Christmas doesn’t come as a surprise. Like, oh, is it here, it’s too soon, I can’t find my Christmas spirit! No, a choral singer starts feeling the spirit already mid fall when we begin rehearsing for the Christmas concerts, looking at well known favourites as well as having a first glance at new material.

The name of my choir is Kammarkören Sångkraft / Sångkraft Chamber Choir. I’ve been a member for 29 years, split over two periods of time. Choral and vocal group singing has been and is an important part of my life.

Umeå is known as The City of Birches, the same way as Seattle goes by the name The Emerald City. That’s why Kammarkören Sångkraft’s Christmas concert is called Christmas in The City of Birches.

We usually give the show at three occasions, and this year in three different churches. Thus, this week turned out a Christmas tour in Umeå! Three concerts in just a couple of days is a lot to take for my body. As I can’t stand up for more than a little while I am sitting on a barstool while singing. Still, it’s difficult. 

Therefor, I am so happy and grateful that I could do it. All three of them! My voice wasn’t letting me down either which is always nice. Landing on my couch last night after the final concert I was filled with joy and contentment, the way you feel only after a well done job. Surrounded by my US-inspired densely dressed Christmas tree from my woods, as well as the more minimalistic Swedish white stars in my windows. And embedded in the most perfect snow landscape you can ever imagine.

It’s been snowing most every day this last week. Feather-light snowflakes slowly falling from the reservoir above us serving us the exact amount of white fluff we need and can handle. It’s a crisp -14°C/6,8°F outside tonight and the full moon lights the landscape up as the big spotlight it is.

My need for carolling is satisfied, the outside setting is perfect and tomorrow my house will be filled with me and my sister’s families. The conditions for a successful Christmas Eve seem optimal, and so I am wishing all of you out there just the Christmas you need as well! 

The Umeå City Fire and The Great Seattle Fire

I remember it as the day Umeå was on fire was Midsummer’s Day. But checking it up now I am learning it was on June 25, so I am probably wrong. Since back in the days Midsummers was at the actual day of the summer solstice. Nevertheless it was around Midsummers and the year was 1888.

The Great Seattle Fire happened the year after, 1889, on June 6. And the man causing it was a Swede.

The pre-summer in Umeå had been extremely dry. Not a single millimeter of rain had been registered at the meteorological station at Midsummers. The same goes for Seattle the year after. Beautiful weather with the downside of very little rain.

At this time and age it wasn’t unusual for whole cities burning. Therefore, in Umeå smoking in public places was prohibited this June 1888, on Midsummer’s Day the north east wind turned into a storm.

Minutes after 1 PM June 25 the city hall bells rang. There was a fire in the attic of the brewery close to the Umeå River. In spite of the city being prepared for this kind of situation, the fire spred fast through shingles from the stick roof, landing on close by lots in the hard wind. 

On the afternoon of June 6 1889 in Seattle, John Back, a Swedish assistant in Victor Clairmont's woodworking shop at the corner of what is now First Avenue and Madison Avenue, was heating glue over a gasoline fire. Sometime after 2.15, the glue boiled over, caught fire, and spread to the floors which were covered by wood chips and turpentine. He tried to put the fire out with water, but that only served to thin the turpentine and spread the fire further.

In Umeå the fire escalated both to the west and east, cutting off the access to the fire hoses. As the crew risked being surrounded by the fire they had to stop their work, and, like everyone else in Umeå this day, try to save what ever they could of their belongings and escape the fire.  

In a couple of hours the fire in Seattle was out of control. Explosions of a liquor store and two saloons fuelled the situation by immense amounts of alcohol and the entire block from Madison to Marion was on fire. Due to how the Seattle water system was constructed, the fact that the tide was out and the wind rising, by 4 PM most residents realised that downtown Seattle was doomed.

The fire in Umeå kept escalating up until 7-8 PM when it was stopped by the birches at Östra Esplanaden (the East Esplanade). There was only one house left within the area for the fire. No casualties were reported, but 2500 people out of the Umeå population of 3000 were homeless when the sun set behind the dark ash sky. 

Those who were able to hire wagons in Seattle did so, to haul belongings onto ships before they moved out of the harbor away from the wharves, which were on fire. The city fire burned until 3 AM. When it eased out, the damage was enormous. 25 city blocks had been destroyed. Although the loss of human life was evidently low the total losses counted in money may have been as high as 20 million dollar.

The Umeå City Fire was of course a catastrophe. At the same time it became a turning point. The new city center was planned around wide avenues lined with birches, the tree so dense with water that it stopped the fire. Today Umeå is called The City of Birches. This new era also seemed to change the self esteem of the city, aiming for more than it once was and with a progressive approach.

Seattle took little time to mourn. At 11AM on June 7, 600 businessmen met to discuss how to cope with the current situation and plan for the future. Wooden buildings were banned in the burned out district to be replaced by brick. At the same time, streets were raised up to 22 feet (6 meters) in places, helping to level the hilly city. It is really interesting to take the Seattle Underground History Tour, walking the streets under Pioneer Square which are the rests of the original Seattle downtown before the great fire.

120 and 119 years later Umeå and Seattle are both thriving. Locomotives at the north east coast of Sweden and the north west coast of the US. Doing good. The pre-summer in Sweden has been extraordinary warm and sunny, and the driest in modern history. We have already had many difficult wild fires, but thankfully it is unusual to see cities burn nowadays.

Midsummer Eve the sky finally opened, draining us in heavy rain, strong winds and cold temperatures. On our most celebrated day, that weather wasn’t what we wanted. But much needed. And maybe I will finally dare setting the match to all the paper building up in my kitchen fire place through these dry months? I’m not so sure.

Today has been a gorgeous day. 21°C (70°F), and a perfectly clear sky. I’ve spent the afternoon in the sun on my west wall with an Arnold Palmer, watching the wind in my cherry trees. 

On this Midsummers Sunday evening the sun will set at 11.09 PM, the same as Summer Solstice three days ago. After a brief rest it will rise again at 2.15 AM. We have now lost 1 minute in this cycle of the planets where we live our lives following the rules of the Milky Way, invisible for about 1,5 more months. 

Mohammed: my sun, my safety, my serenity

He stood one late July morning in my bedroom, unexpectedly. Mohammed.

I know fragments of Mohammed’s background. He left his mother and siblings behind in Irak when he had to flee, alone. He did the journey here as most of them do. In dangerous and overloaded rubber rafts over the Mediterranean, then by bus and foot through Europe. And like most of them, he doesn’t want to talk about it.

He arrived in a cold and rainy Umeå October 2015. July 2017 he stood in my bedroom, unexpectedly, one morning. The same week that he started working for my home care company Civil Care he had received his temporary residence permit which he had been waiting for for 1 year and 8 months. He was one of the lucky ones. Mohammed, an Arab from Bagdad, 25 years old.

Mohammed’s be or not to be here with me has been shaky all along. Yes, he was allowed to stay in Sweden but not necessarily in Umeå, he could be placed anywhere. Eventually the authorities decided on Umeå after all and in late fall he could move from the asylum accommodation to his own apartment. What a lucky day, he finally had his own home in Sweden! And he cut a Christmas tree in my grove.

“When I was a refugee”, Mohammed said. Past tense.

Mohammed has been such a gift to me. He is caring, attentive, considerate, forethoughtful, warm and loving. In addition he is a very practical young man. He knows how to use every tool in my work shop and has an eye for figuring things out. So not only has he been taking care of me, he has also been taking care of my place, here at the end of the road. Handy man and gardener. He is as meticulous as I am and the result of his efforts always brings an astonished and grateful smile on my face. The path in the snow up to my house has never ever been so beautifully and functionally shoveled and carved.

“I like Umeå”, he said last summer as we got to know each other. “It’s a bit small, but it’s nice”. Umeå has 125 000 inhabitants. Bagdad 12 million.

Mohammed has been picking up the Swedish language by himself and out of interest. The first months I tried to think about how I expressed myself so it wouldn’t be too difficult to understand. He put every new word into his phone for translation and extended his vocabulary every day. This spring I’ve been realizing I am not limiting myself anymore. I talk pretty much as I normally do and Mohammed get’s everything!

Yet, he has to take the steps to learn Swedish properly as it is required by the authorities of course. That’s one of the things which has been up in the air since last fall, when would he start studying and to what extent? One of the things leaving me hanging in terms of stability in my daily life.

I have loved every minute spent with Mohammed. Starting my day with him. Going my mini walks when possible with him. Picking up the groceries. Learning Arabic words and phrases (!). Talking about life. Sitting together in the car, quiet. Following the development of his new life here, so far away from his country and beloved family. 

And my home has never been so well cleaned nor my washes so neatly hung. 

As Mohammed runs up my stairs in the morning and we great each other in Arabic the sun comes up. He gives me such energy. As well as having a calming effect on me. He makes me feel safe. When we arrive home after treatments in the afternoon I normally feel very cold and fragile. I put sweaters on and hide under my thick fake fur blanket on my couch. But although this winter has been terribly cold, I haven’t. It is as if the presence of Mohammed has kept me warm. I feel like I have been held. He fixes my dinner and says to me firmly: “Maria, lie down and relax”. And then he lights my candles before we say good bye in Arabic.

Mohammed has, as every refugee, been through hell. Yet, he is always positive and optimistic. Through all the waiting and uncertainty in his new country - only since I got to know him - his take on it is at all times: “It will come. And it is all going to be great.”

How did you become who you are, I am asking. Mohammed has this rock solid sympathetic confidence in himself and what he can handle and achieve. Like he is infused with light and strength from the core of his heart and spine. Absolutely grounded in his strong body. I was born this way, he says. I’ve always trusted myself to do anything. 

Mohammed did his last day with me on Friday. From now on he will study full time and the goal is to become a physician. He studied medicine already in Bagdad. Now he will start all over again, first conquering his new language. Mohammed will be an amazing doctor.

As Mohammed’s presence here with me has been so up in the air during these 3/4 of a year, I have too. The ability to enjoy every day I was given with him at the same time knowing this day could be the last, has been a mental balancing act worthy a tightrope-dancer. 

I am in grieving. Loosing Mohammed is painful. But I am wishing him all the best on his continuing journey and trusting it to be beautiful. I am so grateful for having had the joy sharing that journey with him for a while. And for every western woman I am wishing the experience of being attended to the way Middle Eastern sons take care of their mothers.

I am walking through my house. Every room is carrying happy marks of all the things Mohammed did for me during his time here. I am smiling, forever grateful. And to honor Mohammed, I am repeating his mantra. It is all going to be great. And my balancing act is over.

A Saturday night ER reflection

Four hours later I was back home, diagnosed by a doctor and with three different medicins. Total cost, 200 kronor = 24 dollars.

I spent Saturday night at the ER, just the thing you love doing on a weekend evening. Nothing really bad, still something I needed to take care of urgently.

 When heading for a Swedish ER the best approach is to bring your patience and something to eat. Because oftentimes it will take hours before you get attended to. We tend to complain about this. And of course, when you are so acute you need an ER it is exhausting to spend hours in a waiting room not knowing when you will get helped. 

So, yesterday, as every time I reluctantly have to give in for the fact that I have to seek a doctor outside office hours, I had to remind myself how available it is in every sense. 

To start with, I live 15 minutes from the top ranked university hospital in Sweden, the one in Umeå. My only problem is nowadays I need a ride there which was tricky on a Saturday evening. But finally Trouble 2 was able to help me out, for which I am so grateful. 

So, only 15 minutes, I know exactly where to go and once there I know the drill. It is all familiar. The wait I am handling like an overseas flight. I know it will take time and there is nothing I can do about it. I settle. And I don’t look at my watch.

When it’s my turn I have access to all the professional specialties, examinations and treatments I need. And it costs 24 dollars.

I have been at the ER in Seattle. Arriving in the ambulance blue lights on. Trouble 1 in critical condition.

- Do you have insurance? I need your credit card.

That’s what met me at the arrival.

My son was out and I didn’t know if I could afford the doctors and the treatment.

It was a horribel day. The care was exceptionell and it all went well, but the huge bills kept coming for a year and although my insurance company took care of it, it was a terrifying experience. 

That’s what I am reminding myself of at the ER on a Saturday night. This is why we are paying our taxes in Sweden. So that no one will be stopped at the entrance, economically examined. No one. The only examination that happens at a Swedish ER is the medical one you need.  

And it costs 24 dollars.

The rain check

It’s a grey, dark and rainy Sunday here at the end of the road in my northern Swedish village, as well as in Seattle. Actually more like a moist drizzle here, and my guess is Seattle is the same.

I remember that day at the gym in Umeå back in winter 1993. The radio was on and there was a report about something in Seattle, probably the music scene. It caught my ear as we were only months from our first trip to that foreign territory I didn’t know anything about. And the reporter asked: it rains a lot in Seattle, how do you cope?

So it rains a lot in Seattle? Ouch. That’s not good news…

A few weeks ago the last brick-and-mortar umbrella store in Seattle closed. No one uses an umbrella in Seattle. If you happen to catch a human being in Seattle with an umbrella, it’s a visitor.  

And do you know in which city in the US the most sunglasses are purchased? Seattle. Jodell Egbert who's the owner of the last bumbershoot store Bella Umbrella in Pike Place Market will move her business to… New Orleans.

As a Seattle native Jodell Egbert should have known umbrellas wouldn’t be a successful business concept in Seattle. But she learned the dying art of umbrella making after she fell in love with a box of vintage ones she bought for her wedding 15 years ago. And she was persistent she would make Seattleites change their minds when laying eyes on her beautiful creations. How did that go? Not so good.

Because here is the thing. The rain is like blood in their veins to Seattleites. They don’t even notice it. Seattleites, Puget Sound, cedar and rain is like one big harmonies organism, only intruded ny traffic. I used to joke with my friends saying they were like poikilothermic animals. Didn’t do a big thing about the seasons, wearing pretty much the same clothes all year round and perceiving being wet as a natural state of mind. Unlike Swedes who live and breath their seasons. And shunning rain as something extremely uncomfortable. 

Umbrellas in Seattle are for wimps. Visitors. Tourists. To live your Seattle life without an umbrella is a regional pride. Or more correct, it’s something you don’t even consider. You don’t own one. They are only in the way. At your house and in your hand. Your hand is for the latte. 

During that first Seattle stay of mine in 1993, Swedish National Television wanted me to do a report about the fashion in Seattle. I looked around. Couldn’t find any fashion. Only grey and beige flanells over worn out jeans. I didn’t know then about Grunge. What about hair dos? Nope. Couldn’t see any. Just  hair. It’s very hard to maintain a hair do in the rain not protecting it with an umbrella. So, natural would be the look. Hair dos are for out-of-towners.

To the defense of the Seattle stance and reluctance when it comes to umbrellas you should know that the Seattle rain for the most part comes as a misty drizzle. Often continuing through the day. The typical rain originates from lower, flat stratus clouds and not from the dense, high cumulonimbus clouds associated with heavy precipitation. That’s why the misty nature of the raindrops. And for those drops umbrellas are an overkill, I have to agree.

By the way, the heavy rain flooding The Killing and the Grey’s Anatomy ER entrance is nothing but bad mouthing the Seattle weather! It’s very rare, I’ve only experienced that kind of rain once, an otherwise lovely december week in 1998. And yes, for that I used an umbrella!

So what’s with the sun glasses? Well, the only time I hear Seattleites complain about the weather is when the sun is out too many days in a row and the temperatures rise. When will we have som relief, they say, and reach for their shades. The summers after 2010 have all been dry and sunny with a dry streak record of 55 consecutive days 2017. It was the longest dry streak in more than six decades, so I am sure Seattle is enjoying the fall rains coming in.

But Jodell Egbert of Bella Umbrella in Pike Place Market has packed up her gorgeous hand made umbrellas for the more bumbershoot friendly New Orleans. “Every day somebody would come in and tell me it was stupid to have an umbrella store in Seattle because Seattleites don’t use umbrellas,” Egbert said. “It made me feel bad.” So, she gives Seattle a rain check until further notice.

My one super power/an apartment for Joanna and Xander

So, if I can make parking spots show up and rains to stop, what more can my super power do? That’s the question ending my post two weeks ago. Now I know!

Remember Joanna and Xander, the young couple who were sweet hearts in their early teens and reunited 1,5 years ago? A love saga worthy a movie.

This spring Joanna and her little daughter moved in with Xander and his two daughters. They are all the same age and have become siblings. So far so good. But a family of five in a one bedroom apartment, that’s not a walk in the park. So to find something bigger has been crucial.

Which is not an easy task in Umeå. Again, Umeå and Seattle share a lot of the same problems, only on different scales. One is housing. Too many people in need of somewhere to live. Prices rising. Millennials having to leave the city to find something affordable.

The City of Umeå has a large pool of apartments, the City owned company Bostaden is the biggest agent on the rental market in Umeå. It takes years and years though to get one of those apartments. It’s actually common that parents put their young kids in the Bostaden line to give them a chance for their own home when it’s time to leave the nest. Actually a bit like American parents start saving for college for their children at an early age.

Joanna signed up for the Bostaden apartment line five years ago. That’s about the time it takes to be offered anything at all. And of course the offers start at studios and one bedrooms and not in the most popular neighborhoods. So the more years you have in line, the more you have to choose from.

On Monday Joanna was a bit desperate about her family’s housing situation. They all got at each other’s nerves as there is simply no way to get a quiet spot in an apartment that small. The same day she got an offer from Bostaden! A three bedroom in the neighborhood they want to be! Wow! The only thing was, there were six in line before her. So the likelihood she would be the winner was at a minimum.

I could feel Joanna’s despair. Then it struck me! And I said to her: you know what. I will visualize that apartment for you! Like when finding parking on a busy and impossible street I will visualize every one in line before you just vanishing! What I didn’t know though was I only had that day to do the job, Monday evening was the deadline for decision.

Tuesday morning it was a very cheery Joanna opening my front door: Maria, Maria, I can’t believe it’s true, I got the apartment!!!

What?! Yes, it was true. The six in line before her had all declined the offer and the apartment was her’s!!!

October 1 Joanna, Xander and their three little daughters will move in to an apartment big enough for them in the neighborhood of their preference. They have had a look at it already and they just loved everything about it. It’s like a dream, Joanna says.

Now this was fun! Today a heavy rain is poring down here, combined with gusty winds, it’s really bad. I think we are sympathizing with Florida. But just in time for my little breakfast walk it stopped for a while. As I trust it to!

My one super power

- Imagine the open spot and there will be one!

Never, I said, raising my eyebrows frowning, not a chance…

During my years in Seattle I used to work out at Gold’s Gym at the Convention Center downtown. I parked in the garage underneath, which is huge. My experience from parking anywhere, Seattle or Umeå, was there were never open spots where I needed them to be, close to where I was heading. Therefore, in this garage, I always ended up grabbing the first open space there was. Which gave me quite a walk in a place that wasn’t my choice for such a thing.

Now, I was complaining to a friend about this. And that’s when he uttered those words:  Imagine the open spot and there will be one. Meaning I would drive all the way to the Convention Center entrance through the garage and there would be an open space for me. Yeah, good luck with that…

I knew people who had this kind of luck. My at that time husband was one of those. He always drove to any entrance he was heading for, and if there wasn’t an open spot someone would pull right out in front of him and, magic, there it was! For me, always having to walk blocks and blocks, this was extremely annoying. And the worst part was, he didn’t even see the problem. Why are people going on and on about parking, there is always parking! (Now this applied for most things in his life, which to be fair, of course made me, who walked block and blocks in any aspect, furious).

Anyway, one morning after dropping the kids off at school, driving my usual route downtown to the gym, I decided to take a chance. I didn’t grab the first open space, I grabbed the second. Next time the third. I started visualizing spots deeper in to the garage labyrinth, and one morning I was so close I could see the entrance. And there was a spot. I can still sense the stunned joy. Really?! I parked feeling like I was steeling someone’s private space. Someone more prominent than me.

From that point I started visualizing an entrance spot from the moment I entered the garage. And most of the time there was one. Eventually I learned to trust there would be a space for me. I drove through the garage with a new confidence. And I parked at the entrance like I owned the space. Ha!

As time and years passed I finally wasn’t acting like a tourist in the Seattle traffic any more, I abounded the garages and parking lots to become an acclimatized Seattleite hunting for “easy street parking”. There is definitely nothing easy about street parking, but eventually I learned to master pulling in and out of those snug parking pockets, and even more, I made them show up! At especially difficult destinations I started visualizing even before I left the house. I became so skilled even my native Seattle friends were impressed!

As I’ve mentioned many times before Seattle and Umeå carry similarities, only on different scales. Parking is one of them. Especially with all the construction going on. Finding an open spot at Storgatan is like hunting for one on Broadway.

I don’t drive any more, my back can’t do it. But I am often a passenger. As I can rarely walk more than only a few meters my drivers need to park as close to my destination as possible. When my errands require a downtown visit, Storgatan is the only option for me. That’s when my drivers start to get nervous.

I am not though. It’s gonna be alright I tell them. Crossing the Umeå River on one of the bridges I start focusing. I stop the conversation and I visualize an empty parking space. Sometimes there is. But more often there isn’t. I tell my drivers to go slow and be patient. Come on come on come on, I am thinking. And there, someone, often two, are pulling out and we can choose which spot works best for us!

Always? Pretty much. The only time it doesn’t work is when I get caught up in our conversations and forget to concentrate. Or at the University hospital. That’s such a jam packed place even I get nervous. I loose my confidence in the positive outcome. And also, my focus is blurred with the reason for me visiting the hospital leaving me anxious, my mind not entirely on parking. 

Now, as visualizing parking spots has become this successful I am pondering, is there any way I can expand the business? If this works it might be possible to apply in other fields too, right? It should, shouldn't it? Well, I am working on the rain… Visualizing it stopping for the few minutes my breakfast and dinner walks last when I can take them. And how does that go? Well I would say! A rainy day, I can usually trust it to hold for my walks!

So, if I can make parking spots show up and rains to stop, what more can my super power do?

A summer afternoon in a changing Umeå

A sunny day with an ice cream in Rådhusparken, to remember when the darkness folds around me!

It’s been a year since I last was downtown Umeå. The reasons are two, and in combination they make it very hard for me. The first reason is that most of the time I can only walk a few meters. And although downtown Umeå is just a few blocks, it’s way too much for me. The second reason is the constant city center construction work that makes it impossible to park anywhere within walking distance to where I need to be.

Construction work in a city, wether it is Umeå or Seattle, we know as a sign of development. To me, it is a healthy sign. Places not developing are usually stagnated or even dead. There is no moving forward. Sometimes development can be too much of course. Too fast and too cruel. And sometimes, like in Seattle, the constant flow of people moving in from other places can be overwhelming and too much when it comes to housing and infrastructure. 

Umeå is growing too. And there is a lot of redesigning in the city center. It all started when Umeå was applying to become The European Capital of Culture. The appointment enhanced the process which is still ongoing, three years after carrying the title in 2014. Changes are difficult and there has been quite some criticism of new architecture and parks not looking the way they used to.

This is the second summer in a row where Rådhustorget (the City Hall Square) right at the heart of downtown is fenced in with something looking like crush barriers. The open inviting place with fresh fruit stands and people sitting down having an ice cream is behind bars and the whole area feels unfriendly and impossible to navigate.

The protracted redesign of Rådhustorget has taken it’s toll on the downtown shopping. Closing (temporary, but still long-spun) the main artery for cars moving through the area doesn’t help. Many stores have had to close, and of course it’s not H&M and alikes but small local and very dear businesses leaving.

I have not been able to follow what’s going on first hand as I am never in the city center, but I am reading the papers, watching renderings of what to be. Very much like how I am following the changes of Seattle, come to think about it. Funny, I’m only 20 minutes from downtown Umeå and about 20 hours from Seattle! Both far away though.

Sometimes I have errands to run downtown. They tend to linger on my to do list forever though it’s such a hazard for me getting to it. Lying on my couch here at the end of the road the feel of trying to get it done such a weight on me. Dark, cold, wet, icy, slippery. And you never know where you can drive and park. So the trick is to plan for it during the light and non-slippery part of the year.

Summer 2017 has been crappy weather wise. But this Thursday delivered a sunny 66° (19°C) afternoon, and it wasn’t even that windy, what a treat! And Mohammed - who works here Monday and Thursday afternoons accompanying me to my treatments - and me headed for downtown, finally. We managed to find a parking and my back allowed me to do all the errands on my list, check!

It’s funny though how I am still trapped in old pattens from when I could drive and live a movable life. In a store, browsing, I find myself thinking I don’t have to make up my mind buying (a crazy nail polish) or not just now, I’ll wait for the next time. You would think, after soon five years on my couch I would know there won’t be a next time. Well, I remembered and bought the polish, intense and glossy turquoise.

Content with check on my to do list and still some minutes left, Mohammed and I bought an ice cream. We walked the few steps from the hostile Rådhustorget to Rådhusparken, the park connecting the city center to the Umeå River. We sat down on a bench in the upper part of the park, finalized last fall. Of course I haven’t been there before so I was very curious about the outcome which I know some have critized. 

I couldn’t walk around in the park, but what I could see I liked. And I loved the moment. The surprise summer afternoon. The delicious ice cream. The view of the park and the river. The feeling of being one among other Umeå residents taking the opportunity of a gorgeous day. 

And enjoying the company of Mohammed who fled here from Bagdad in 1915 and. As one of few in that stream of refugees he now has a permanent residence permit. It happened a month ago. Mohammed I say, if you are still in Umeå in ten years you can tell your children you came here when the city was changing. Yes, Mohammed says, when it was all built and redesigned. And it will all be good, he says. Rådhustorget, the park, life. It will all be good, everything.

Great places come with a cost

I’ve been spending the last few weeks putting together a photo album for Trouble 1. Like a real hands on photo album. I started for his 30 year birthday last year and made the first two, covering his life from my growing belly until he was five. Now for his 31 it was time for album nr. 3: summer -91 - summer -93. Which means our first stay in Seattle is told in pictures and writing.

Looking at a downtown picture shot from the Space Needle deck I am struck by how sparse it is. The high rises scattered over the area. And pointing the camera to South Lake Union I am thinking, wow these pictures are historic! Seattle has grown into a dense city and some places are completely changed. And the densification just keeps on happening.

There are more construction cranes in Seattle than in any other US city. While many American cities don’t have a real downtown, Seattle has a very clear and distinct one centered around the heart of shopping Pacific Place Mall, Westlake Mall and the Nordstrom flagship store. It’s great! Especially when you are new to a city it is really helpful to have a center to navigate around.

And as if that’s not enough one more downtown is coming up. South Lake Union in my pictures from 1993 is an industrial area area with one story buildings (Umebor, think Västerslätt) where you could find most anything from shipping and boat supplies to film rolls. And boy was that a hard neighborhood to navigate! Today it is the Amazon campus with 25 000 employees, more to come and a city center growing for the daily need for all those blue badged people. Easier to navigate? Well, they say it’s hard to get in and out because it’s already congested and has made the commute even worse.

For as long as I have known Seattle it has never been an inexpensive city. The only time the home prices went down was after the 2008 crash, but Seattle was never hit in the way many other cities in the US were. In 2010 I dreamt about buying the fabulous penthouse where I was staying for the summer which was for sale at a bargain, 375 000 $. I even bought lottery tickets! No luck though unfortunately.

Today Seattle tops the nation in home price growth. The national numbers are up 5.8% for the last year, Seattle 10.8%, close to double! During my early Seattle years renters were only people who were in transition or didn’t have a reliable income. That changed when home prices became unaffordable even for people with a more stable life, and during the past four years rents have skyrocket across Seattle about 40%!

So what happens to a city which is super expensive going on even more expensive? Well, except traffic congestion it attracts a finical elite. And some Seattleites who have been there for generations have to leave.

It turns out nearly half of Seattle millennials consider moving as Seattle-area costs are soaring!

45 percent of millennials in the Puget Sound region think they will have to move somewhere cheaper to afford the life they want, even though nearly all would prefer to stay in the area. Such a loss! Such a terrible loss!

This is not a problem exclusive for Seattle. Attractive places are difficult spots for young adults to start a life, same goes for Umeå although on a different scale. The condo market was up 12% only in the last quarter here. Those cities might also be a hard place to retire or being disadvantaged in other ways.

The costs in booming Seattle are even negative for tourism. A recent J.D Power survey ranks Seattle 37th on the list of the top 50 destinations in the US! The gorgeous Emerald City! What happened? Well, tourists have pretty much the same complains as Seattleites: traffic is bad and it’s expensive. A Best Western hotel in Seattle does probably not have a higher standard than in Phoenix or somewhere else. And Air.bnb doesn’t help. People offering apartments know the market values.

Where am I going with this? Well it all started with that 1993 downtown photo I just pasted in my son’s photo album. Cities like Seattle and Umeå where building cranes move like choreographed in the sky are great cities. Developing, evolving, fun, often young. The median age in Umeå is 38 years, in Seattle 35,5 of 2015. But all that comes with a cost. If you can afford that cost it’s great. If you can’t, not so much.

Chatting with Lisabeta!

-Hello Lisabeta! How are you today?

Through Daniel who has been one of my home care people this winter I have learned her name is Lisabeta, not Elisabeta which my Swedish ear first heard. As I have mentioned before Lisabeta is the Romani woman earning her living outside my grocery store. We have met twice a week for 1,5 year now. Before Daniel came into my life I mostly bought her a grilled chicken, since that was what she asked for. Sometimes fruit.

It was really frustrating to me that I couldn’t communicate with Lisabeta. She knows a few words in English and three Swedish. And of course I don’t know any Rumanian. But then life brought me an interpreter! Daniel who himself comes from Rumania and has been here for about two years. His Swedish is impeccable, that young man really has a good ear for language!

So, I got to know Lisabeta lost her husband early. Her elderly mother is back in Bucharest while Lisabeta’s two children in their early twenties are here In Umeå with her, as well as her three young grandchildren. Daniel tells me it is rare for a Romani woman only having two children, which would be explained by her husbands death.

Now, I wanted to find out how to communicate the most basic with Lisabeta. Daniel became my teacher, and I learned Rumanian is a mix of latin base language, slavic and also some rests from old Daccia, the original Rumania. This was so exciting!

As I am a little bit familiar with Italian I jumped on everything that was related to that language, it was easy to learn, and fun, I loved it!. But the slavic heritage… I just can’t wrap my head around it! It’s interesting how difficult a word can be when you can’t connect it to anything at all, no matter how bad you want to learn it. Thanks for example, I just had to drop that one. Lisabeta knows thank you in Swedish though, so it isn’t the end of the world.

Lisabeta's and mine twice a week dates now are so much fun. And this is how are conversations goes, in Rumanian:

-Hello Lisabeta!

-Hello Maria!

-How are you doing today?

-Good. (Or sometimes not good). How are you doing?

-Not good (way to often). What do you want today?

-Meat. Or fish. Or potatoes and oil. Or baguette and butter. Or eggs. Or fruit. Once pizza

I pick up my groceries as well as her’s and handing them over afterwords I say:

-There you go (which is with pleasure)

-Thank you Maria (which she says in Swedish)

-Stay well!

-Thank you. Stay well you too

-Bye bye! (which is until we see each other again, like Italian)

I don’t think I have bought Lisabeta chicken since she was able to tell me what she really wants.  Chicken was probably the only word she could express in English. And of course I feel ashamed about responding to her “How are you doing” with “Not good”. At least I am not on my knees on a purple cushion in a cold and dark country far away from home. But I consider us friends and I can’t lie to a friend.

Did I mention we are laughing a lot? So happy to chat with each other even though quite restricted. And Daniel complimented my pronunciation the other day saying “Now you don’t need me any more” But of course I do, I want to learn more!