…or: A(nother) Swede in Sherman Oaks.
So. I moved to LA seven months ago, now (as of May 2018). Or actually, at that time, we didn’t know that I, for now, actually “moved” here. I just came here to spend a few months, and then we didn’t really know what to do next. As things unfolded, I am still here. And wow is this an interesting place. As in interesting city, neighborhood, state…country (if that is even something I can comment on – a few chosen parts of California is pretty much the only areas I know on this continent, so far).
It’s not easy. At all. To move to a new place like this. And then, I am one of those super privileged people in the world, who moved by choice, not by force. Who can always go back there, to the land I was born on, and which I actually do miss, a lot, most of the time – I could go back there today if I really, really wanted to. Yes, I do have to go through the whole bureaucracy struggle, as an immigrant now (which is wayyy confusing) – but I know the language, I have a family here, and there, for support and cheering up along the way. And as uncomfortable as that might feel to realize, the place I come from, the color of my skin, my (supposed) religion, are also taken as “non-threatening”, in this world where, well. People apparently feel threatened just by some people walking down the street, or speaking another language, or praying “the wrong” prayers. It’s really wild. What did I do to deserve an easier life than anyone else? Nothing, except being born like this.
And, in all that – it’s still confusing and upsetting in many ways – and of course, super magically wonderful too – being here, coming here. Leaving old circles and settings behind, getting to know a new culture, new structures, new ways to be in the world. Even seeing “my own” (old) home from a distance creates so many thoughts and reflections. And I’m thinking writing about it might be a helpful thing. So here we are – welcome to Pancakes on the Third. Thank you for reading and processing with me!
* My first language is Swedish, not English. I do write in Swedish too, however what I’m writing here on this page I wanted to share with people here, where it’s all happening. So, have patience with my errors, funny grammar or whatever. I hope the message will get through anyways. Otherwise, just ask 🙂
** Also, in school, in Sweden – at least when I was a kid – we were taught British English. Or, just “English”, as they said. I had no idea that British and American English were any different (except from the accents of course), until I was a grown up and took a “Business English” course at my then work. And I was told these huge news and was kind of…blown away, actually. By the fact that no-one EVER told us why it was so easy to get confused about if center was spelled centre. Or center. If it was colour or color (or, that seemed like an easy one for me. “Of course its colour!” I would say). So. If I mix up the spelling (I try to catch my -ou:s and -re:s and all the other unnecessary complicated stuff (which, I admit, I actually do like quite a bit))…but years and years in school are hard to just wash out, like that. Hope for your understanding and patience. No offense intended.