kören

Bad news guys - i've joined a choir. That's right, a choir (I never said I was cool). I've been eager to expand my Swedish experience culturally, and this seemed right on the money, especially since I am not singing in any way, not even in the shower these days. We meet every Monday evening in the basement of Wermlands nation at 6pm. This is straight after my Role of Religion In The Middle East class - i have to fang it as fast as I can down the main street on my crappy bike to get there in time. The songs are all in Swedish, with a few in Latin and German for good measure. There's about 4 other international girls in the Alto section and apparently you can hear our accents mangling the Swedish.

We're preparing for a concert in December in honour of Sankt Lucia. Here's a brief rundown on the festival of Sankt Lucia: from what I can tell, it's to celebrate the darkest day of the year by bringing light into it. So you find yourself a young swedish lass (in plentiful supply in Lund) dress her all in white, strap some candles on her head and send her off walking down a darkened corridor. I'm not sure how we're going to celebrate it in my completely international corridor, but i'm sure there'll be plenty of vodka and broken crockery no matter what happens.

Me and my friends are continuing to party like it's 1999 - two nights on and one night off seems to be the norm. I think a lot of other exchange students have settled down into a more healthy and responsible lifestyle. The thing is, I'm starting to recognise almost everyone who is out. For example, Kalmar nation on Tuesday night. It's our traditional "after Enviro movie" pub sit-down-and-catch-up evening. I knew almost everyone who walked through the door. It's good in a "this is where i belong" kind of way, but i'm wondering, where are the rest of the 1500 exchange students? Show yourselves!

That aside, I had a great night last night at Smålands nation. Smålands is the only nation in Lund with a political platform, kind of like the Socialist Alternative in Melbourne but not as rabid (no offence guys). That's right - dirty commies with great big red and black liberation posters and post-feminist quotes scrawled in the toilets. I love them. Dup was working, which meant illegally free beers for all his closest friends (or at least the ones who were waiting patiently at the bar for his shift to start!) . The band came on and played like it was their last show on earth. Afterwards I managed to chat with the lead singer who, despite being drop dead gorgeous in a very indie way, was all about himself and the record contract they signed the week before. Yeah whatever.

So I think it's high time I post some more thoughts on Swedish loving. Relationships amongst people my age back home are, for the most part, awkward creatures, fraught with anxiety and almost falling over every time your phone beeps. First, you nurse a crush on someone for a few weeks, months, or in extreme cases, several years . Then maybe someone makes a move and you'll go for coffee. Then maybe a group date somewhere. Then maybe there's some touching on the hand or other neutral area and so on. Baby steps. That's the Australian way to build a functional relationship. When you DO sleep with someone straight off the bat, it's never quite the same.

Here, in liberal Sweden where the average age for losing virginity is 14 (a statistic that is more rumour than cold hard facts, fyi) step one is having 8 beers, approaching a person of same or opposite sex, taking them home and having rampant drunken sex. The clincher is the morning after - if they're still there when you wake up, it's more than likely that you're seeing each other. Now I'm not complaining. For many people, this setup works perfectly (e.g. Australian men....hmmm...) It would just be better, from a female point of view, that Swedish menfolk were interested in you even if sex wasn't on the cards.

Anyway this post is long enough. I will just finish with this thought - I wish I hadn't ostracised my parents when, three years ago, they told me that I should listen to Neil Young's "Harvest". I believe my words were something along the lines of "washed up hippies". I was wrong and I take it back. He's perfect for a swedish autumn and these days when the sun sets at 4.30pm.