Expanding Musical Horizons

I’m going to see this guy scream tomorrow night. Voluntarily. I’m actually paying money to do it.

 

It’s a lengthy explanation, but let me give it a shot.

For more than 50 winters, Sweden has held an annual music competition called Melodifestivalen — you guessed it, “The Melody Festival” — to select the Swedish representative for the Eurovision Song Contest in May.

I had never heard of Eurovision before moving across the pond, which some might call embarrassing considering how musically connected I consider myself.

In any event, the European Broadcasting Union settled on an international song contest when exploring ways to bring its member countries together in the years following World War II.

Participating countries perform their song on live TV and then use a positional vote system to award 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 10 and 12 points to other countries’ songs, with a country’s favorite song being given 12 points. Determining the overall winner is quite a process, and global audience numbers have topped 600 million. Eurovision is credited with launching the international careers of ABBA, which won for Sweden in 1974 with “Waterloo,” and Celine Dion, who won for Switzerland in 1988.

Sweden makes a huge deal out of its eight-week Melodifestivalen. It’s far and away the most popular Swedish TV program. Of the 9.1 million people living in the country in 2007, 4 million watched the final.

Public phone votes and panels of jurors have equal weight in selecting the Swedish winner, but from what I’m told, it’s taken a very radio-friendly pop song no matter what to win the contest in recent years. That sure was true this year, as you’ll hear below. Loreen beat Danny in a two-horse race for the honor of representing Sweden in Azerbaijan a few weeks from now.



One band that appeared to win a lot of new fans throughout the competition before falling short in the semifinals is Dead By April. Wikipedia describes them as “Pop-Metal.” Their Spotify bio says “metalcore.” iTunes simply classifies them as “rock.”

 

I’m not quite sure how to describe Dead By April. They’re like a fusion of a boy band and a hardcore punk band. Think, maybe, Backstreet Boys meet The Used or 30 Seconds to Mars.

I’ve never really been a fan of any genre of guitar music, other than maybe country. My musical tastes are almost exclusively rap and R&B, and with a growing amount of trance. Never any type of rock whatsoever.

But I think Dead By April have kind of a nice sound. The interspersed screaming probably threw a lot of people off during Melodifestivalen and undoubtedly didn’t earn the band any of Sweden’s pensioner votes. I can’t really take it seriously, either. I find myself laughing every time Jimmie does his thing. But it seems so difficult to do I’m also sort of fascinated, so I have to see it live.

Tomorrow is Valborg, a big spring kickoff festival in Sweden and other countries in Northern Europe. The bar up on Mösseberg here in Falköping somehow landed Dead By April for the evening, which is an accomplishment considering the small size of our town and the fact that the band is a pretty big name in Sweden. As you’d expect, the town is abuzz.

It promises to be a very different concert experience for me and I’m looking forward to it.

Restrictive Business Hours

There are so many things I love about living in Sweden. I probably haven’t made that clear enough over the last 18 months.

But no matter how many things you love about any place you call home for any period of time, there will inevitably be something you can’t stand.

One of the only things I’m still having a really tough time adjusting to even after a year and a half in this wonderful country is the unaccommodating business hours.

And I’m not just talking about Systembolaget, the government-run alcohol monopoly with some of the worst hours you could imagine. If you’re unfamiliar, catch up here.

No, it extends far past Systembolaget to virtually every type of business.

Below are major examples (and pictures, because you probably won’t even believe the words you read).

For comparison, I’ll also refer to some businesses in my hometown of Arcata, which had a population of 17,231 at the 2010 census. In the same year, my current town in Sweden had 16,350 inhabitants. For all intents and purposes, Arcata and Falköping are the same size.

Buying Food

Falköping has six grocery stories — four Swedish (two ICAs, a Coop, and a Willy’s), a Danish discount (Netto) and a German discount (Lidl).

ICA and Coop have the best hours. They’re open from 8 a.m. to 9 p.m., seven days a week.





Willy’s, where Amanda and I do most of our shopping, has the same schedule except on Sunday, when it opens two hours later.



No grocery store is open before 8 a.m. or after 9 p.m. I find that ridiculous, but that’s because I’m accustomed to much more flexible hours.

Statoil, an overpriced gas station with a “convenience” store that defies the term, is the only place in town you can get any small selection of groceries before 8 a.m. or after 9 p.m.



I’m not sure how convenient it can really be considered, though, since it’s only open from 6 a.m. to midnight on weekdays and 8 a.m. to midnight on weekends.

If you want any type of food at all after midnight, it’s the McDonald’s drive-thru until 1 a.m.



After that, your only option is pizza. We’ve got a couple dozen pizzerias in town, and to my knowledge three of them (Valentino, Happy Time and Eldorado) are open until 3 a.m. Friday and Saturday nights for partiers. That’s late for Sweden.



So, why am I complaining about this?

Because the town I grew up in, which is just as small as Falköping, is also home to six supermarkets (counting Safeway, Wildberries, Murphy’s Sunny Brae and Westwood, North Coast Co-Op and Ray’s Food Place, excluding mini-mart types like Greenview Market, Hutchins Grocery and Fourth Street Market on Samoa).

Safeway and Wildberries are probably two largest/most popular of those. Safeway is open 24 hours a day, seven days a week, and Wildberries is open 6 a.m. to midnight daily (same hours as our town’s “most-convenient” store). Even the Co-Op is open from 6 a.m. to 9 p.m. every day, and it has the worst hours of any supermarket in Arcata.

With a 24-hour supermarket, you never have to worry about buying groceries around the store’s schedule.

If you want other food in Arcata at strange hours, there’s Don’s Donuts and Toni’s Restaurant, which are also both open 24 hours. Arcata Pizza and Deli, which offers a lot more than just pizza, also serves the late-night crowd until 11 p.m. Sundays, 1 a.m. Monday through Thursday and 3 a.m. Friday and Saturday.

That’s what I’m used to, which makes the restrictive hours here in Sweden feel even more limited.

Buying Medicine

What Systembolaget is to alcohol, Apoteket is to medicine. Well, the government-owned pharmaceutical monopoly was actually abolished a few years ago — maybe the Swedish government didn’t like being put in the same category as Cuba or North Korea — but in small towns like Falköping, it’s still the only option for medicine.

Apoteket is open from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. weekdays and 9:30 a.m. to 2 p.m. on Saturday. If you need prescription medication at 2:01 p.m. on Saturday afternoon, you have to wait 43 hours until the pharmacy opens again Monday morning.



That’s crazy, but maybe I say that in part because 24-hour pharmacies are becoming the norm in the United States, now mater how small a town is.

Buying Household Items

Sadly, Ö o B has some of the best hours of any store in town. It’s kind of like a small-scale Walmart — lots of random stuff at cheap (relative to this being Europe) prices. It’s open until 7 on weeknights and 5 on weekends.



Buying Books

Bokia operates several dozen bookstores across Sweden and is one of the largest book chains in the country. It doesn’t seem to be suffering the same fate as U.S. chains that Amazon has essentially put out of business.

Not that I buy a lot of my books at bookstores — I prefer Amazon UK’s selection and prices, even after international shipping — but if I did want to, I would have to do it between 10 a.m. and 6 p.m. on weekdays or 10 a.m. and 2 p.m. on Saturday.



It’s closed on Sundays, of course. What kind of a bookstore is that? I’ve never been a huge recreational reader but I’ve always imagined Sunday is probably the biggest recreational reading day of the week, no?

Buying a Cup of Coffee

Lila blå is our favorite coffee shop in town. They offer the best caffeinated drinks around, hands down. But if I’m not home and want to grab a cup at 6 or 7 in the morning, I’m out of luck. They never open before 8, close at 3 p.m. on Saturdays and are closed on Sundays.



Banking

I bank at Nordea and I often wonder why, because there are a couple of banks with slightly better hours.

If I need to go exchange currency or do an international transfer, which are pretty much the only things I can’t do online, I have to do it before 1 p.m.



Yes, my bank closes at 1 p.m. all but one day a week (it’s open until 6 on Thursday, likely dictated by Systembolaget’s extended hours that day of the week).

These limited hours aren’t unique to small Swedish towns. It’s not much better in the few big cities.

Why?

If any of this has surprised you, you’re probably wondering why it is this way.

As far as I can tell, there’s absolutely no demand for it to change. This is how it’s been for a long time and this is what Swedes are used to. Consumer preferences will never prompt an extension of opening hours. It’s obviously only expatriates like myself who have a problem with it.

There’s another reason, though, which has to do with how well Sweden treats its employees. There are countless perks for workers, such as at least five weeks of paid vacation every year.

The benefit here that I believe discourages any business from considering an extension of its hours is “OB,” which basically means inconvenient/uncomfortable working hours.

If somebody works during these hours, they automatically earn an hourly supplement to their fixed monthly salary. It varies a bit from employer to employer and I could be wrong with these details but it’s my understanding that many employers offer both a regular supplement for “simple” inconvenient hours and a double supplement for hours that are “particularly inconvenient.”

Simple inconvenient hours are generally something like weekdays after 6 p.m. or 7 p.m. until 10 p.m. or 11 p.m., when the extra inconvenient hours kick in.

Double inconvenient hours are paid on holidays, all hours between 6 p.m. on Fridays and 6 a.m. on Mondays and all other time between 10 p.m. or 11 p.m. and 6 a.m.

I understand that some industries in the U.S. offer similar differentials and that there are jobs where employees earn double-time or night shift differentials, but it’s not nearly as standard as it is here. My last newspaper could never have paid me a differential like that. My typical shift was 3 p.m. to almost midnight, often on weekends, too. That extra money would have added up fast.

If a Swedish grocery store tried to remain open 24 hours a day, it would go out of business paying its employees for all the “inconvenient hours” they would work.

Sweden’s restrictive business hours will never improve. There’s no demand for it and even if there were, a massive overhaul of labor laws would be necessary to make it economically feasible for businesses.

Bjertorp Slott

Falköping Alpin

I never realized how spoiled I was in Sacramento, a short 90-minute drive from major Tahoe resorts.

I mean, California snow is garbage compared to the “cold smoke” I rode on in Montana, but that’s not a fair comparison. Most Swedes don’t even believe I snowboarded in a state that movies portray as looking entirely like a beach. Point being, I was lucky I got to ride as often as I did during those five winters.

I’ve only hit the slopes twice in one-and-a-half winters in a country that movies portray as looking predominantly like the North Pole. How ironic is that?

Thing is, it has to be cold for snow. In California that means going to high elevations. In Sweden, we have our northern latitude to thank for low temperatures, even at low elevations.

The highest point, Kebnekaise in the far north, has a peak of 2,111 meters (a little under 7,000 feet). And there’s not even any commercial skiing around there. Several Tahoe resorts have a higher elevation than that — at their base.

We live in southern Sweden and most of the big resorts are many hours north. We’re fortunate to have a tiny mountain in our town (average elevation of just 230 meters, 750 feet). Most of the neighboring cities have nothing.



Falköping Alpin only has two runs I can really use, “Slalombacken” and ”Mittlöpan,” the longer of which is a very short 400 meters (a quarter-mile).



I had Slalombacken mostly to myself on Sunday after a decent storm Saturday night.



Here's a view looking up Slalombacken I shot on a bluebird day last winter.



To the far right is Mittlöpan on the same day, with a few medium kickers.



It's rather underwhelming and gets old fast, but beggars can’t be choosers and considering that I can walk there from our apartment in less than 20 minutes and a lift pass runs a little more than $20 USD, I can’t complain too much.



Sure, there are only rope tows, since chairlifts aren’t feasible for such short distances.



And it takes about 30 seconds to speed down the steepest run, but it’s something. And I don’t have to take an overnight train to get some action.

Though I do plan to make a trek to the north in the near future to experience the famed Åre resort pictures below.

Darkness

There’s a crucial aspect of Sweden’s geography that I’m starting to realize very few people back in the States grasp.

Although, considering that on visits back more than two old acquaintances have asked, “How’s Switzerland?” maybe I’m expecting too much? I digress.

Sweden has extremely high northern latitude. Our town, which is in the southern third of the country, is virtually the same latitude as Juneau, Alaska.



Why does it matter? Well, aside from the obvious climate effects of 15 percent of your country actually lying north of the Arctic Circle, it means the solstices are very pronounced.

During the summer, we enjoy long days with early sunrises and sunlight into the late evening. That comes with the tradeoff of dark days in the winter months, of course.

And after the summer solstice in late June, that shift from light to dark happens more quickly than you might imagine. While commuting to Stockholm every day during the late summer and early fall, I snapped a quick photo from the platform every Thursday morning at 6 a.m. from August 18 through September 29. These photos show the week-by-week progression towards darkness over seven weeks:















And the days have been much darker than that the last couple of months leading up to the winter solstice this Thursday — the shortest, darkest day of the year. The good news is there will only be more and more light each day from here on out until Midsummer.

On Thursday, the projected sunrise in Sacramento is 7:21 a.m., with a sunset at 4:49 p.m.

Here in Falköping, the sun won’t rise until 8:52 a.m. and it will set at 3:17 p.m. That’s three fewer hours of light on the darkest day.

I guess I should just be thankful we don’t live further north, where polar twilight or polar night engulf parts of the largest Nordic countries for much of the winter. Some towns will be lucky to have a few hours of twilight reflecting off the snow during the worst four weeks of the year from early December to early January.

The sun won’t even rise Thursday in Kiruna, Sweden’s northernmost city, but apparently they have to put something on the weather websites, anyway.



So when you think the days feel short in the U.S. in late December, just remember that they could always be shorter.

Lucia

Tuesday was St. Lucia’s Day in Sweden and other Nordic countries.

December 13 is the day to commemorate Lucia, a martyred Catholic saint. In a traditional Swedish celebration known as a luciatåg, a girl wearing a white dress and a crown of candles leads a procession of maidens.

Many processions also include star boys, and those performed by young children often feature gingerbread men and Santas as additional characters.

The celebrations revolve around singing. Sweden followed the Julian calendar until 1700, and December 13 was the shortest, darkest day of the year. The main song is about St. Lucia bringing light to the darkness.

People eat gingerbread and drink mulled wine, but my favorite food associated with the day is lussekatter, saffron buns that are eaten throughout Advent but particularly on this day.



Saffron, the world’s most expensive spice by weight, quickly became one of my favorite baking flavors when I moved here. I didn’t even really know what it was in the States.

Lucia is a winter tradition I hadn’t experienced yet, because I was working in Stockholm at this time last year and two years ago I hadn’t quite arrived for my first visit.

We spent the morning with a group of elementary school children from the school where Amanda’s mom works. They performed a procession in a church next to their school, about 20 minutes south of our town.



The parents loved every second of it.

Swedish Pizza

It is inexplicable that I’ve lived here for almost 16 months without blogging about Swedish pizza.

It’s been a staple of our diet since the day I moved to Sweden. I’ve estimated I probably eat six pizzas per month, on average.

Swedish pizza — which isn’t actually Swedish at all, but I’ll get to that in a minute — is healthier than their American counterparts. The crust is thinner, and the cheese and toppings aren’t always loaded on as heavily.

Pizza is also arguably the best bang for your kronor when it comes to eating out in Sweden. You might not have guessed it, but McDonald’s, Burger King and the like are insanely expensive over here. A pizza can run anywhere from $9 USD to $13 USD, making it one of the cheapest dinner options around. Swedish pizza is never sold by the slice, and in most scenarios the only size — around 12 inches across, but remember, it’s also thin — is the perfect amount to be a “personal pizza.”

Italian immigrants who came to Sweden to work in the late 1960s and early 1970s brought pizza here with them. Today, virtually every Swedish pizzeria is owned and operated by immigrants from one of the many countries that border the Mediterranean Sea. We’ve discovered only one, near Amanda’s family’s summer house, that is run by Swedes.

The most popular Swedish pizza (by a longshot) is kebab pizza. In the Middle East, where kebab originates, it’s supposed to be lamb meat. Here, it’s some nasty blend of lamb (if you’re lucky) with beef, chicken, pork, turkey and even goat, fish or other seafood, roasted on a vertical spit. It really is just shaved “meat.” I wouldn’t touch it with a three-meter pole, but most Swedes love it.

Kebab pizzas are smothered in both a yogurty sauce and a hotter sauce. Most Swedish pizzas are topped with some type of sauce, typically Bernaise.

The first Swedish pizza I ate during my original visit was a Quattro Stagioni (“four seasons”) with ham, mushrooms, mussels and shrimp each covering one quarter of the pizza. It was probably my go-to choice for my first six months here.

My favorite pizza these days is the Africana, which usually includes chicken, bananas, peanuts, curry powder and sometimes even shrimp, often with a pineapple ring in the center.



There’s even a place in town that serves it with a liquid form of curry. Remember what I said about sauces?



Bananas aren’t even the “weirdest” topping to someone accustomed to American pizza. At the lone “Swedish pizzeria” we know this summer, Amanda’s friend Nathalie ordered a pizza with meat sauce and asparagus.



Amanda’s Napoli pizza of sundried tomatoes and mushrooms was also loaded with broccoli and spring mix.



No matter if you’re sitting down or taking it home, every pizza in Sweden is served with an included order of “pizza salad,” a sour but tasty combination of shredded raw cabbage, oil, vinegar and spices.



Some people eat it before and some enjoy it as a side dish. Others put it on their pizza. I didn’t like it in the beginning, but it quickly grew on me.

Many people ask me whether I prefer Swedish or American pizza, expecting to hear the latter. But there really are a lot of things I like about Swedish pizza.

There’s a joke that every town and city in Sweden, regardless of total population, has one pizzeria for every 1,000 residents. In our city of roughly 15,000, that’s probably spot-on. I’ll have to count someday.

Anyway, my point is that there’s something almost endearing about how imperfect each pizza is. Even the spelling of the pizzeria can have flaws.



Every Swedish pizzeria is unique — Pizza Hut is the only chain with any level of Nordic penetration — and you never know quite what you’re going to get.









But you can almost always bet it will be delicious.