ONE UNFORTUNATE SWEDISH GUY!

Column August 2018

The 16 July was a special day – the day of my departure to New Zealand. Several times I had to repack my luggage at home, until the scale only counted 30 kg, which turned out to be rather insufficient for a year’s supply of clothes. Just shortly after a quick goodbye to my friends and family I found myself sitting alone in a plane heading to the Middle East.

In Dubai I met a group of other students from my exchange organisation with which I then flew on to Sydney. That 13-hour flight was pretty fatiguing. I couldn’t sleep much at all during that time, because I sat closest to the aisle and had two ladies with bladder weakness next to me. Although everyone was tired when we arrived in Sydney, the sightseeing program began straight away, after all a new day had already started again in Australia. We visited the Opera House, a zoo, Chinatown and went up the Sydney Tower.

After four days in Australia our journey carried on to Auckland. We had to get up in the middle of the night to get to the airport on time. The upcoming three-hour-long flight now of course was a piece of cake. Arriving in Auckland, we were on our own from now on. For a friend of mine and me that meant: Only one more flight to Nelson and we would have finally reached our destination! Due to bad weather our flight was postponed to the next morning and we were sent to a hotel. So close to the finish line and then this! However, spending the night alone in a feudal room constructed for four people was quite a treat. Afraid of missing our flight the next day, we called each other at 03:15 a.m. after our alarms went off. After a short bus ride, we were once again at the domestic terminal. Way too early, but at least it worked out the second time around.

In Nelson I was welcomed by my host family. At first, I hardly recognised my two host sisters, as they looked completely different in the photo I had been given a few months ago. Since school was starting the following day, I immediately had to buy some leather shoes and pick up my school uniform. Fortunately, down here all shops are open on Sundays as well. While Sydney didn’t feel anything close to winter, the weather in New Zealand was a different story. Freezing cold nights and rain greeted me warmly. Yet, these circumstances don’t bother Kiwis at all: The school uniform only contains shorts and many rooms lack proper heaters or suffer from having a rather basic wall isolation. When I spoke to my host father about this, he was rather surprised, because he thought that Swedish people would be used to very cold temperatures. Yes, you heard right! In New Zealand people commonly think that Switzerland and Sweden are the same country.

The 1 August (Swiss National Holiday) seemed liked the perfect opportunity to explain to my host family that there indeed is a difference between being Swedish and being Swiss. I cooked “Älplermagrone” (traditional pasta dish) wearing a Swiss football jersey. Unfortunately, the situation hasn’t really improved yet. That’s why, I started ignoring questions about Sweden. However, a whole year should be enough to knock this misconception out of their heads.