Memories

 

Scrolling through Facebook this morning, a post challenged 'me' to name a city that changed my life.

I quickly thought about the places I have been in my life (more than I expected, fewer than I'd hoped) and decided that the place/city that changed me in ways I had no way of knowing it would was Örebrö, Sweden.

I spent the better part of 3.5 months there, the spring/summer of 1969.

I lived on the university campus, courtesy of a kind student who allowed me to live in their quarters.  The campus was pretty deserted because it was summer, after all, but there were a few students still living on campus so I wasn't entirely alone.  I had my pen friend, too, but she wasn't always around.  

Ultimately, my memories of that 3.5 months are ones of transformation.

Up until that time I had always relied on others to 'take care of' me.  Usually my mom.  

But I had travelled from the middle of BC to Sweden without someone to do the caring - for the most part.  Or at least, not a designated someone.  Instead I discovered that perfect strangers would frequently take pity on me and make sure I got to where I was supposed to go.

So, I wasn't entirely self-reliant, but much more so than I had ever been in my to then 19 years of age.

I found myself feeling at home there.  It felt comfortable in a way that felt utterly strange.  In those days very few people spoke English and I had to learn enough vocabulary to request what I needed.  I got very good at reading body language - gestures, facial expressions (which are fairly common to most people.)  I never did learn to speak the language - the grammar defeated me utterly.  But I learned a bunch of nouns and some key phrases.  I learned numbers when some of the students would invite me to go play mini-golf.

I learned how to navigate public transport, got 'lost' on Gamla Stan in Stockholm, made it to the 'north' to spend the summer solstice with my pen friend and her family, and watched the sun make it's journey around the sky without ever disappearing below the horizon.

As part of that trip I took a two week bus tour through Europe - Brussels to Paris to Nice, to Milan back to Germany for the ferry trip back to Sweden.

When I landed back in Canada taking my first ever plane trip from Arlanda to Vancouver, I had a gift I did not expect.

I found my strength.  My sense of self worth (although I still had a long way to go).  My independence.  My knowledge that I could do hard things.  Survive in difficult circumstances.  To trust my danger radar.  And that, ultimately, most people were kind.  (No, not everyone.)

Getting lost (on several occasions) and then finding my way back to where I needed to be let me understand that I didn't need to panic.  I just needed to think.  

I went over there on a budget.  As it happens I *almost* ran out of money - but not quite.  I borrowed some money from my pen friend's mother, and paid it back as soon as I got home.  Pretty sure she never thought she would see her money again.  But I made sure I got it back to her.

In a way, when I made the decision to become a weaver, I drew on that experience to find the strength to make difficult decisions.  To not panic.  To think.  To plan.  To keep trying, until I succeeded.  Even if that 'success' was, shall we say, less spectacular than other people's glorious results.

I had to learn that just because someone else appeared to be succeeding beyond my wildest imagination did not make *my* success lesser.  I learned to not measure my self worth against someone else's apparent 'worth'.

I also learned that we are all part of an interconnected 'web'.  That being kind is better than being unkind.

So, thank you pen friend.  Thank you for making my trip to your country possible.  For looking out for me, but leaving me to fend for myself, too.  I will never forget the kindness of the people who helped me when I was lost.  Who made my stay there more pleasant.

Ultimately I wish I had been able to see more of the world.  But I will never forget my several trips to Sweden and the people I met there.  And be grateful for the transformation that allowed me to be here, now, having lived the life I have lived.