Well, I’m back.
Fifteen hours of flight time, a five-hour delay in Washington D.C. due to thunderstorms, and I’m back in Oregon. My student visa has expired, meaning my studies in Sweden have come to an end.
It’s been a long, strange journey, but it seems it has reached its end. Or has it?
The last 302 days have brought some of the greatest joys of my life – from meeting new friends to seeing the world outside the United States for the very first time – and some of the greatest challenges (having to learn a new language, making new friends, having to cook for myself). There were times where all I really wanted to do was leave Sweden, to go back to the familiarity of the Pacific Northwest, but somehow I stuck through it. And because of it, I’ve emerged a wiser, better man.
The hardest thing I did in Sweden? Leaving.
It’s no secret that I fell in love with the country. The landscape, the people, and yes, even the climate, grew on me in a way I could never have imagined. If I had my way, I would stay forever.
For the first time in my life, I actually felt at home. Like all my life I had been away, and had finally come home.
But unfortunately I had to leave. I still have one more year of studies at Boise State, and without a job, I had run out of money.
So I went back. Was I happy about it? No. But it’s what I had to do.
Jag alskär Sverige - I love Sweden. Photo: Martin Winberg
I’m already dealing with reverse culture shock. Let me tell you: integrating back into the culture of your home country is much harder than assimilating into Swedish culture. That’s what no one can prepare you for, what no study abroad advisor can tell you: that sometimes you don’t want to go back, and when you do it can be almost overwhelming.
I’ve found I’ve changed in ways I could never have imagined. In just the few days I’ve been back, friends and family have commented more than once on my newfound accent. Seriously, I now speak English with a noticeable Swedish accent. I never thought about or noticed it before, but I’ve spent so much time in Sweden that it rubbed off on me so much that I even picked up the habits and mannerisms of native-born Swedes, permeating my very being and changing how I perceive the world.
It astonishes even me.
It feels like I’ve left a part of myself behind, like I don’t really belong in the U.S. anymore. I’m trying to keep myself busy to help bury my feelings, but I admit it’s not easy.
“Lord of the Rings” is one of my favorite movies. The other day I was watching “The Return of the King,” when something happened to me that’s never happened before while watching it: I cried. It was the conclusion, when Frodo and his friends return home after destroying the One Ring, and they were sitting in a pub. The characters silently shared a toast, the music was simple and unpretentious, and suddenly I cried. Like a light bulb switching on in my head, the parallels became instantly stark: Frodo and his friends had experienced things nobody else would understand, travelled to strange lands much farther than anything they had ever known, and now they were home. The journey was over, their lives had been forever changed, and no one else would ever understand. The same, I realized, had happened to me. It hadn’t really sunk in before, but now I knew that I was back.
The best part about studying abroad? The people you meet. Photo: Ben Mack
The list of people who I’d like to thank could literally fill an entire novel, but to name just a few I’d especially like to thank University Studies Abroad Consortium (USAC) for helping me realize my dream of going abroad, Lennart and Katrin Nordmark (my host parents) for helping create a home away from home (not to mention providing more “cultural experiences” than I can count), Karin Siöö and the rest of the International Office at Linnaeus University, Professor Jerald Catt-Oliason for teaching me to remember to listen, Katrin Ruffing for inspiring me to go abroad and being such a gracious host when I visited Germany, Jana Lepple and Clementine Monet for also inspiring me to cross the Atlantic, Sari Kiviharju and Sara Vanaikka for giving perspective to things, Foluoso Abbey for helping me see inward, John Harrigan for reminding me that the world is not flat, my parents for all their love and support (both financially and emotionally), my wonderful corridor mates – from both the Fall and Spring semesters – for helping make me feel like part one big, dysfunctional family, Martin Winberg for being my best mate in Sweden and keeping me sane (and for teaching me more than a little Swedish), Julie Blomberg for encouraging me to have faith in myself (not to mention question everything), Corrine Henke and the International Office at Boise State University, Christine Deppe for always being there when I needed to talk to someone, Tamar Amashukeli for helping me see the world through new eyes, Alina Merinscu for being a doppelgänger for so many of my adventures, and of course the people of Sweden for putting up with me for the past year.
For anyone else I neglected to mention, I haven’t forgotten you. I blame human nature for not having the patience to go through all the names. I also want to thank you, readers, for following this blog. Writing for the Swedish Institute has been an incredible, and unique, opportunity, and I’m glad to have shared with you my experiences and tips and tricks for surviving – and thriving – in Sweden. Hopefully you won’t make all the mistakes I did!
My immediate plans are simple: in August I will return to Boise State for my senior year, where I will also be working as Opinion Editor of The Arbiter (the university’s student newspaper) and living on-campus in the Global Village Community, a special housing program for international students and those who want to gain new perspectives from them and help them adjust to life in the U.S.
And after that? Who knows?
Maybe I will return to Sweden one day. Perhaps I will never go there again. But whatever the future might hold, I know this: I am better off for having studied in Sweden.
Studying abroad is not merely a physical journey – it is also an academic, cultural, emotional, and spiritual journey. In other words, it is personal. No two people have the exact same experience, and no two people reach the same conclusions afterwards.
But what exactly are those conclusions? No one can really say until one has gone abroad, and even then there’s no guarantee conclusions will ever be reached. It is an enigma of a most individual nature.
The Swedish sunset is one of many things I'll miss. Photo: Anne Balonier
I am not a celebrity. I have not been, and probably never will be, President of the United States. I am just an ordinary, average person who has had an extraordinary experience. But so, why then, am I bothering to write this? The answer to that is simple.
By studying abroad, you will gain an increased appreciation for the interdependency of the world today, the commonality we all share as human beings
While no one else will ever have the exact same experiences I have, studying abroad is nonetheless something that is more attainable today than at any other moment in history.
If you do decide to go abroad, dear reader, Sweden is an ideal location. I think my blog posts, and those by fellow student blogger Kristin Follis and other bloggers at the Swedish Institute, speak for themselves as to the reasons.
But know this: there are many more reasons why you should study in Sweden, reasons which words cannot possibly begin to describe.
In the words of St. Augustine, “The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page.”
Tack så mycket, och hej då.
On the coast of Öland the day before going back to the U.S. Photo: Ben Mack
