After six months in Sweden, I’m finally home.  These first few days have been a trip to Uncanny Valley, almost as if I’d never left (with one major exception — USA no longer seems to be so atrocious at soccer).  I do, however, seem to be experiencing some reverse culture shock.  When I went to Sweden I was expecting the different, the new, and it wasn’t so shocking.  Coming home after studying anthropology, I now find myself looking through an ethnological spyglass.  Restaurants are loud with a push for turnover and toilets have more water.  The streets are made for machines, not people.  A whole city had been a walk away; now, going next door seems to necessitate use of a car.  I look around, and it’s all the same.  Perhaps only my eyes have changed, gotten wider.  If not for the digital proof of photography, a vague record in the blogosphere, umpteen dozen new Facebook friends from across the globe, Sweden could have been but a dream.  Sure, I picked up some tangible objects as souvenirs and memorabilia, but in today’s global market, they could have come from anywhere.  Even my ukulele, to me the most iconic semblance of my time in Sweden, was made in China.  Well, dream or not, I’ve got a few last photos to share from my time with my family in the Motherland.  Maybe by posting I will get that final needed confirmation that yes it did all really happen, and, with any luck, make my brother look like a goon along the way.

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Yep, that’s it folks.  Sweden isn’t just a fairy tale.  It’s for real.  And it’s awesome.

Now, time to get me some proper Mexican food.


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