Ordinary odd day
I went to see Winnerbäck yesterday and it was so fucking great! I think it was the sixteenth time I saw him, ehum. I've seen him solo with an acoustic guitar before, but this is the first whole tour he does that way. The setlist was excellent and he was in a really good mood, talking and joking. As usual he looked a little embarrassed when getting standing ovations. The concert felt really intimate, at least in the third row where I sat. I hope my photos will turn out great. I'm a little worried about that actually.
I was going to go by myself and had sold the other ticket and all, but a friend's friend was going with some of her friends. They didn't have seats together either. I was invited to go with them and that was very nice. Had some beers afterwards and so.
Anna Ternheim was absolutely great too. Her voice is so strong and clear, her lyris so sad. It's just lovely! She almost hide in this big Winnerbäck hoodie.
Today I took a walk just about when the sun was setting. It was even colder outside than I had thought. Went to school and checked some exam results. I passed the quantitative sociological analysis. Good. Then when walking into the park I met Stina, a girl I went to school with when I was 13-18. Not in the same class, but we had some lessons together. Like French and English. I know that she also studies at the university here and I met her here a couple of years ago. Really fun to see her though! We stood there and talked for a while when this old lady in a red coat stopped and asked us if we knew who the statue a little further away was.
She didn't asked in a tourist way, she asked cause she wanted to make sure that we knew. I always think about that statue as Dag Hammarskjöld but it's not...it's Folke Bernadotte. The lady started talking about the importance of Bernadotte's efforts and knowing our history. I know who he was, I just didn't remember that he was the guy in the park. She continued talking about the white busses ("it was not just the prisoners you know, it was the women born in Sweden and their children.") and about that it was probably the only thing Sweden did during the war that we should be proud of. She's right. And I stood there freezing my legs off and it was getting really dark. The lady started walking away and kind of ended the conversation but then she started again, and she told us that she had a german father and a swedish mother. She had been living in Germany but had visited Sweden every summer since she was six weeks old. In the summer of 1943 they were suddenly not welcomed. I didn't really get the exact story, but she talked about coming to Denmark and being welcomed and then about beeing looked at like they were monkeys. When coming to Sweden with the busses maybe? And she talked about a change after 1945. I guess she ment that they were welcomed here then in a way. She said that she had no prejudices towards other people, that there are bad and good people amongst all people. And she ended it all by saying that it seems like our (mine and Stina's) generation seems to be better in that way that we have a greater understanding. We answered her that we hoped she was right.
I said bye to Stina and continued my walk, wich I shortened a little because I was freezing my ass off. At the other side of the old cemetary I met this little group of people all dressed up, marching with a flag with torches in their hands. People from some student nation visiting a nation grave I guess. Not an unusual sight in this town. Not like it happens everyday, but still. And still it feels odd, and it reminds me of the really traditional part of the student life here that I feel no connections to at all. You know, it's the non-academic working-/lower middleclass heritage that comes to the surface.
"And I find it useless, feeling meaningless
And just as low as I was high the night before..."
I was going to go by myself and had sold the other ticket and all, but a friend's friend was going with some of her friends. They didn't have seats together either. I was invited to go with them and that was very nice. Had some beers afterwards and so.
Anna Ternheim was absolutely great too. Her voice is so strong and clear, her lyris so sad. It's just lovely! She almost hide in this big Winnerbäck hoodie.
Today I took a walk just about when the sun was setting. It was even colder outside than I had thought. Went to school and checked some exam results. I passed the quantitative sociological analysis. Good. Then when walking into the park I met Stina, a girl I went to school with when I was 13-18. Not in the same class, but we had some lessons together. Like French and English. I know that she also studies at the university here and I met her here a couple of years ago. Really fun to see her though! We stood there and talked for a while when this old lady in a red coat stopped and asked us if we knew who the statue a little further away was.
She didn't asked in a tourist way, she asked cause she wanted to make sure that we knew. I always think about that statue as Dag Hammarskjöld but it's not...it's Folke Bernadotte. The lady started talking about the importance of Bernadotte's efforts and knowing our history. I know who he was, I just didn't remember that he was the guy in the park. She continued talking about the white busses ("it was not just the prisoners you know, it was the women born in Sweden and their children.") and about that it was probably the only thing Sweden did during the war that we should be proud of. She's right. And I stood there freezing my legs off and it was getting really dark. The lady started walking away and kind of ended the conversation but then she started again, and she told us that she had a german father and a swedish mother. She had been living in Germany but had visited Sweden every summer since she was six weeks old. In the summer of 1943 they were suddenly not welcomed. I didn't really get the exact story, but she talked about coming to Denmark and being welcomed and then about beeing looked at like they were monkeys. When coming to Sweden with the busses maybe? And she talked about a change after 1945. I guess she ment that they were welcomed here then in a way. She said that she had no prejudices towards other people, that there are bad and good people amongst all people. And she ended it all by saying that it seems like our (mine and Stina's) generation seems to be better in that way that we have a greater understanding. We answered her that we hoped she was right.
I said bye to Stina and continued my walk, wich I shortened a little because I was freezing my ass off. At the other side of the old cemetary I met this little group of people all dressed up, marching with a flag with torches in their hands. People from some student nation visiting a nation grave I guess. Not an unusual sight in this town. Not like it happens everyday, but still. And still it feels odd, and it reminds me of the really traditional part of the student life here that I feel no connections to at all. You know, it's the non-academic working-/lower middleclass heritage that comes to the surface.
"And I find it useless, feeling meaningless
And just as low as I was high the night before..."
posted by S. at 17:14
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