The Grandfatherland

I´m in Stockholm. It´s corny, but yeah, this feels like home, kind of. The trees, the water, the buildings... We went to Hedengrens book shop and when I told the lady working there that my name was Hedengren, she made sure I had plenty of free bookmarks and bags. Nice people. But why have this attachment to Sweden when:


ä) my kinsfolk are actually Swedes from Vaasa Finland, not Stockholm at all and

b) I´m not entirely Swedish, but I have no deep drive to go to Denmark or Wales.


Huh. And yet this is very much like how, I suspect, Jews feel coming to Jerusalem. Everyone here looks like me. The historical recreationist apocraphary in the old town had my same blue-grey eyes, hair like my sister. Everyone goes around so nice and easy. It´s beautiful.

Comments

Sarah T. said…
That's great that you are in Sweden! I've got some Swedish in me as well.

Perhaps, your feelings can be likened unto the soldiers who are away at war who kiss the ground of the first U.S. soil they land on, but their home is 500 miles away. It's close enough and I'm sure if you went to your true city of ancestral origin you'd have the same feelings.

Popular posts from this blog

Arithmatic of humanity

Blogpoll for My Comedic Future

In Defense of Stephanie Meyer.