Chapter 3: Moving South

July 1979 — Stockholm and Helsingborg, Sweden

I awoke to a knock at the bedroom door. I was disoriented by the room, the time, and how light it was. It quickly came back to me where I was, and a look at the clock told me it was 7:00am. Lars stuck his head in the room and let me know that breakfast was in about ten minutes, but I had time to shower and dress. I quickly did that and then went to breakfast.

When I sat down at the table, I found a bowl of what looked like yogurt at my place, plus a selection of toast and some kind of crackers, along with cheese and butter. A cup of Earl Grey was waiting for me as well.

“Steve, the bowl has «filmjölk» in it, a kind of yogurt, I guess it would be called in English. You pour the cereal on it,” Annika said, handing me a container of what looked like corn flakes.

I poured some into the bowl on top of the yogurt and I added quite a bit of sugar, much to Karin’s amusement. I hated milk with a passion, so I figured this would need similar amounts of sugar; I was right.

“In the US, we use regular milk we pour over our cereal, so this is a bit different for me,” I said.

I buttered a piece of toast, added some cheese to it and ate that as well.

“This is «knäckebröd», or crisp bread, I guess,” Karin said, handing me a piece of what looked like compressed cardboard.

I spread some butter on it and added cheese. The bread itself did taste like cardboard, but the butter and cheese made it taste OK overall.

I had another momentary flash of Birgit and me sitting down to breakfast each morning, sharing our plans for the day, being silly with each other, and being so deeply in love that nothing else mattered. I stifled the tears that I felt welling up while I finished the bowl of cereal and «filmjölk», two pieces of buttered toast with cheese, and two pieces of «knäckebröd», also with butter and cheese, all washed down with two cups of tea.

I packed up my things and we carried them down to the car for the short ride to the central train station. We found the train waiting on track 3, and the board showed it was on time for departure at 9:30am. The posted travel time was just under six hours, but I wouldn’t be changing trains. I found my seat in a Second Class car and stowed my luggage. I shook hands with Lars and thanked him for everything he had done so far. Annika gave me a hug, kissed me on the cheek, and wished me a safe journey.

Karin stood still, just looking at me. Our eyes locked together, and she came to me and we exchanged a hug. She gave me a quick peck on the lips and said softly, “I’m glad you’ll be back, Steve, even if it’s just in December.” She released me from the hug and went to stand by her mom. I had the oddest feeling from her kiss, as if Birgit had kissed me, somehow, from the grave. I didn’t know what to make of that at all.

Annika handed me a plastic bag with a sandwich and two apples, plus two bottles of Grappo for my lunch. I bid them goodbye, and they left the train. The Anderssons stood on the platform until we pulled away, waving to me. I waved back and once they were out of sight, pulled out my book. I alternated between reading and watching the scenery go by. I had promised to write Jennifer a letter, so I did that, then wrote one to Stephanie as well. I wrote a brief note to Becky on a blank greeting card from a box I had brought along.

The first two letters were similar, telling my two favorite girls in the entire world how much I loved and missed them, as well as about the trip so far. I was careful in my letter to Stephanie to not even write anything that could be misconstrued because I knew my mom might well intercept the letter and read it. In my letter to Jennifer, I was a bit more explicit about what I was going to miss! I also wrote a bit about Becky to Jennifer, something I couldn’t yet do with Stephanie. I was absolutely sure Jennifer’s parents would not read my letter to her.

My note to Becky simply said that I was thinking about her and would call her as planned. I told her to be strong and stick with our agreement and that everything would work out OK. I was careful to use wording that could be understood as normal by her parents should they see the card, but would be understood by Becky to refer to our unborn child.

When I finished writing, I sat back in the seat, looked out the window, and thought about everything that had happened in the last two days. Becky was pregnant; I had flown to Sweden; I had said goodbye to Birgit; I had somehow connected with Birgit through Karin; and I was on a train to yet another new city.

I wondered about the situation with Karin. Given all the emotion of the day, I thought her offer might have been as much for her as it was for me, that somehow she wanted to take Birgit’s place. I knew my emotions were a mess and had Karin snuck into bed with me, I might have made the biggest mistake of my life. Or not. In any event, by December, our emotions would be better under control. I hoped we’d become good friends who shared memories of Birgit.

Around noon, I ate the sandwich and an apple and drank a bottle of soda. I ate the other apple and drank the other bottle of soda around 2:30pm. At about 3:20pm we pulled into the station in Helsingborg, and through the window I saw a man, woman, and a teenage girl standing together. The girl was holding a sign with my name on it. That would be Rolf, Sinikka, and Mary Anderberg. I gathered my things and got off the train to meet them. I shook hands with Mr. Anderberg, who insisted I call him Rolf, and had a polite hug and kiss on the cheek from both Sinikka and Mary.

We walked a short distance to their car, another Volvo sedan, and drove about fifteen minutes to their house. The house was small by American standards, but I thought it was very cozy. I slipped off my shoes at the door, of course, and was shown to a room where I would be staying for at least two weeks. This was Kathy’s room, but she was staying with her boyfriend, Putte, while I was here, so I could have a place to stay until Mary left for the US the following Monday.

Once I was settled, I asked Rolf if I could use the telephone to call home. He readily agreed, so I dialed the sequence of numbers that Lars had given me. Dad answered on the third ring. I let him know everything was OK and gave him the phone number and address. He asked to speak to Rolf, so I handed Rolf the phone. They spoke for about two minutes, and Rolf handed back the phone.

“Call when you find out when you will move and where you’ll end up,” my dad said. “Please write to your mom, even if it’s just a quick note saying you’re OK.”

“OK,” I said, suppressing a sigh. “I will.”

“Your sister wants to talk to you.”

“Hi, Big Bro!” she gushed.

“Hi, Squirt!”

“Is everything OK?”

“Yes, it is. Why?”

“I talked to Jennifer, and it seemed like something was bugging her. More than just you being away.”

“There are no problems between Jennifer and me, I promise! Don’t worry about it. Everything is fine and will sort itself out.”

“OK, Steve. Love you!”

“Love you too, Squirt!”

I replaced the receiver. Stephanie’s radar was working, just as Jennifer’s had been in the car. I still wasn’t sure if Jennifer knew what Becky had said before I told her, or if it was just the general unease, I must have been showing. Jennifer had shown an uncanny ability to know what was going on, but I had learned that at least part of that was because Stephanie was feeding her information from my journal. At some point, I’d have to tell her that she was going to be an aunt, but not today.

I went to sit with the Anderbergs and we chatted a bit, getting to know each other. I let them know that I was grateful for them being able to ld take me in on short notice, and was sorry to have displaced Kathy from her room.

Mary laughed, “You shouldn’t worry. She’s happy staying at Putte’s apartment! She might stay there even after I leave.”

I bet she was happy! I loved the Swedish attitude towards sex and relationships. It fit more with my thinking and certainly with my actions. I had been lucky to find three girls with parents who were understanding, albeit very reluctantly for the van Hoeks and the Blocks. The Spencers would fit right in here.

According to my letters from YFU, in about 10 days I’d be going to Falkenberg for a week for further orientation and to take an intensive course in Swedish with all the other exchange students from the US and Canada. Once that was done, I would come back here for a couple of days and then either go to Hovås or Stockholm, depending on how things worked out.

Rolf let me know me that he was supposed to report back to Stig Olsen about how I was adjusting, and he was also going to speak to Anders Jonsson once I left for Falkenberg to discuss the situation. I was certain all the reports would be positive because I knew that my mom was way off base. I asked if he could mail my letters and card for me. He said we’d do it in the morning when we went into Helsingborg. He’d take me to the post office and I could mail the letters myself.

I was still adjusting to the time change, so the Anderbergs kept things simple — just dinner, talking, and a bit of TV before bedtime. I was surprised to find that there were only two TV channels available, with the generic names of ‘TV1’ and ‘TV2’. We watched an episode of Soap that had Swedish subtitles. I was glad they didn’t dub over the voices. With my limited Swedish vocabulary, I sure wouldn’t have been able to follow the show otherwise.

During the conversation, I learned that Rolf was a retired ferry boat captain, and that Sinikka was from Finland originally. They had met when he was captain of a ferry that ran between Stockholm and Turku, Finland. Their oldest, Kathy, was born just ten months after they married, and Mary was born two years later.

The next day, Thursday, we drove into downtown Helsingborg and walked around, just doing a bit of sightseeing in town. Mary, a blonde about my height, with a cute face and a medium build, soft, not muscular, started teaching me some Swedish words. I learned about a dozen important words and a few key phrases such as «Var är toaletten?» (“Where is the bathroom?”).

On Friday, we drove to Båstad, a town just north of Helsingborg. We had lunch and visited tennis courts where Björn Borg, the Swedish tennis superstar, practiced. After lunch we drove to the ferry terminal and went across Öresund to Helsingør, Denmark, where we went to Kronberg Castle, the ‘Elsinore’ of Shakespeare’s Hamlet.

The castle was fascinating and Rolf explained that because the strait was so narrow, this castle allowed the Danes to collect the ‘Sound Toll’ from every ship that passed through. I learned that Skåne, the southern part of Sweden, known as Scania in English, had been part of Denmark until the mid-17th century, and that control was contested until the early 18th century.

We had a nice dinner at a café, sitting at a table on the sidewalk. I loved people watching, especially given this was all new to me. Mary let me know that on Sunday there was a going-away party for her that was being hosted by Putte at his apartment. She would be there with Peter, her boyfriend, and there would be a few other couples, mostly nineteen to twenty-three years old. I told her it sounded like fun.

I asked Rolf if he could map out a jogging path for me because I couldn’t swim like I did at home. He asked how far and I thought about it. My fifty laps at home were just short of a mile, so I figured that five kilometers was probably good. If that was too long, I could always walk part of it. He said he’d draw a small map and give me street signs to look for, but that I could do most of it through a park along the bike path.

We caught the last ferry back to Sweden, and I realized that I had just doubled the number of foreign countries I had been to. In 1972, I had been to both Canada and Mexico, just before we moved to Ohio. I had now been in Sweden and Denmark, even if my time in Denmark had been limited to about seven hours total. That night, I wrote a couple of paragraphs in my journal about what I’d done so far.

On Saturday morning, I looked over the map that Rolf had drawn and saw he had given clear directions in English, plus listed street signs and a few shops to look out for to make sure I stayed on the correct path. I put on my sneakers, shorts, and t-shirt and went out to run in bright sunlight at 6:15am. I enjoyed the jog, and the distance was about right. I saw a few other people out running, though mostly men in the thirties or older. I did see a mom jogging in shorts and what looked like a sports bra pushing a fancy stroller as she jogged along in the park.

I got back to the house without any trouble, showered, and ate breakfast. It was clear that I was destined for a year of very different breakfasts than I had back home, but it didn’t bother me. In addition to the offerings from the Anderssons, the Anderbergs also served thin slices of ham to put on the toast or the «knäckebröd». The «filmjölk» was fine so long as I put sugar, honey, syrup, or some other kind of sweetener on it before I added the corn flakes.

Thinking about food, I realized that just about every lunch and all the dinners had involved boiled potatoes. I asked Rolf about that and he chuckled and told me that was the norm and he hoped I liked potatoes. I did, and because butter, salt, and pepper were available, I could vary the taste from meal to meal.

Saturday was a lazy day around the house. I sat in the sunroom and read, chatted with Mary, helped Sinikka with some housework, and learned a few more Swedish words from Mary. Around 4:00pm, Rolf received a call from Stig Olsen saying that I would be going to Göteborg on August 4th. They had worked everything out with the Jonssons.

Rolf asked if I wanted to go to church on Sunday and I told him no, I wasn’t really interested and that the information on the form from YFU he had was because my mom had insisted. I said I might go to church on Easter Sunday, but that was about it. I really had no interest in going, and without my mom here to appease, nobody would care.

On Sunday about 2:00pm I grabbed my overnight bag and Mary and I left to go to Putte’s apartment. She planned to leave the party around 10:00pm with Peter to walk back to his apartment to spend their last night together; I’d stay at Putte’s place. In the morning, she’d come back and we’d go home. Almost immediately, we’d leave for the ferry station so she could board a train for Copenhagen in Helsingør and catch her flight to the US.

We were the first guests to arrive. Mary introduced me to her sister Kathy, who was nineteen, pretty, but very thin, with red hair similar to Sinikka’s. Putte was twenty-five, about 6’2” with dirty blonde hair and a mustache. He had me put my overnight bag in the guest room.

“Steve, it’s good to meet you,” he said. “There will be two other couples joining us. I hope you don’t mind that I invited my younger sister, Pia. She’s really nice, and that way you don’t feel like an odd-man-out. She’ll be here in an hour or so.”

Interesting. My first ‘date’ in Sweden was arranged, and I hadn’t even been here for a week! Whatever happened, it would be good to not be the only one at the party without a date.

“Thanks,” I said happily.

Peter, Mary’s boyfriend, arrived a few minutes later, bringing three bottles of wine. He was twenty-three, and had black hair and a black mustache. He was about my height, but extremely muscular. Mary kissed him and introduced us. His English wasn’t as good as that of the other three, but it was far better than my Swedish, which so far was about a dozen phrases and a couple of dozen very common words. Even so, I had a hard time picking out words and phrases when people spoke, it seemed like they were speaking so fast.

The other couples arrived in the next half-hour — Johan and Mia and Pelle and Katarina. The guys were both twenty-three, and the girls were twenty. They brought snacks and one couple brought a bottle of brandy and the other a bottle of vodka. All four were blonde with blue eyes and could have easily been on travel posters for Sweden.

About an hour after Mary and I arrived, Putte’s sister, Pia, walked through the door. She was seventeen, and was drop-dead gorgeous with long flowing brown hair, hazel eyes, and a killer figure that was accentuated by tight jeans that showed off her long legs, and a form-fitting sweater that clung to her breasts.

“Pia, this is Steve. He’s from near Cincinnati, Ohio in the US. Steve, this is my sister, Pia.”

“Hi,” I said. “Nice to meet you!”

“Hi!” she said, flashing me a bright smile.

Putte put on some music and began making Chinese food for everyone. The rest of us chatted and drank soft drinks or coffee while we waited. Pia was about to start her second year of «gymnasiet» and was planning to be a social worker. Besides Putte, she had a sister who was twenty. She didn’t have a steady boyfriend, and I told her that I didn’t have a steady girlfriend in the States, which was what I had agreed with Jennifer I would say.

We ate dinner and drank wine. Nobody even questioned serving me, which was great. I knew better than to drink too much, but certainly enjoyed sipping a glass of wine through dinner. I appreciated that most of the conversation at dinner was in English, though there was some occasional conversation in Swedish, mostly between Pia and Putte and Mary and Peter.

I commented on how well everyone spoke English and found out that the study of English was mandatory in school, so everyone spoke some, though older people or people from the countryside were less likely to speak English well. That was helpful, though I really wanted to learn Swedish, so I didn’t want to rely on that too much.

When dinner was over, we discussed what to do. I said I had an Uno deck and nobody had any idea what that was. I brought it out and explained the game. Before we started playing, Putte offered drinks to everyone and suggested I try the brandy. He handed me a glass with about three centiliters of brandy and a frozen plastic animal in the glass. He told me that was to keep the drink cool without ice melting and watering down the brandy.