Orientation, Swedish Style

Tuesday was the kick-off to International Student Orientation here. We had the little presentation in the afternoon and a BBQ that night.

Wednesday our Swedish classes began. So far, I've gathered that not only is my Swedish professor completely incompetent, she also hates Americans. The first day of class when we were learning basic phrases, she very rudely corrected me when I said "Jag talar engelska." (I speak English.) She told me that I do not, in fact, speak English. I speak American. American? Really? Even the Swedes laughed at me when I told them that. On top of her strong dislike for Americans, she's also a very poor teacher. Ryan has learned infinitely more in the short time we've been taking lessons. I'm just glad that I can compare notes with him because next week we all take the same final exam. And we're all expected to know the same material. Even those of us with less than intelligent, anti-American professors.

Wednesday night we were introduced to our first "Class Party". Meeting with our orientation groups in various classrooms throughout the campus, we were expecting the generic get-to-know-you name games and things like that. Instead, we found a make-shift bar set up at the instructor's desk, loud music (which always seems to be American over here), and plenty of drinking games. The variety of games shocked us, but each for different reasons.

The first game we played was telephone. This game was, in fact, identical to the one you are thinking of. It is the game that most of us play as a child, except this time it was played by dozens of foreign college students who were all having the time of their life. One of our Phosare, Niklas, was beside himself with excitement while playing this. He was literally giddy with anticipation waiting to hear what the last person would say when the word or phrase had finally made it all the way around the circle. I don't think I can accurately describe how happy he was. Since we can only use words, we'll leave it at the fact that Swedes LOVE telephone.

The second shocking game we played was called "Horse Race". Everyone was gathered into a giant circle, seated on a chair. Two decks of regular playing cards were used for this game. Everyone seated in the circle was given one card. One of the group leaders used the second deck of cards. The leader would draw a card from the deck and yell out the suit. If your card was of the suit called, you were to move directly one chair to your right. If the chair to your right was occupied, it didn't matter. You sat in their lap. The game got more interesting as it continued because there was a twist to it: You were not allowed to move at all if you had someone on your lap, even if your suit was called. This made for giant piles of up to 9 people sitting on one chair. The game continued until a person had made it all the way around the circle. Thus, that person was the winner because their "horse" had made it all the way around the "track". If you weren't able to guess why this was shocking, it was rather uncomfortable to sit on a strangers lap and visa versa.

The third and final game we played that first class party was probably the most shocking of all. It's name was "Mega Twister". When they first started talking about it, we assumed it must've been the one with the colored circles and the spinner... but we were wrong. This game started by dividing the large group into three smaller groups and assigning one leader to each. And, instead of a giant mat with different circles that we expected, there were simply three piles of little sheets of paper. These papers contained both the English and Swedish words for different body parts. (I think they were trying to incorporate something educational?!?) The leader would draw two pieces of paper. It would be up to the group members to hold the papers between the two body parts listed on the pieces of paper. This was shocking because combinations ranged from "Shin and Knee" to "Mouth and Cheek". The object of the game was to see which group could get the most pieces of paper held between various body parts without dropping them.

The Class Party first began at 6 pm Wednesday. These and other various games accompanied by heavy drinking continued for approximately three hours before it was time to go to the on-campus nightclub, STUK. (Pronounced stook) Yes, I said on-campus nightclub. Ryan and I decided against going the first night because the line to get in was over 500 people long. I found out the next day that it was the right decision. One girl that I spoke to said she waited in line nearly two hours before paying the 60 SEK ($9) to get in.

The last few days have pretty much been the same:
Daytime... various orientation activities and Swedish lessons.
6 pm... Class party begins
9 pm... Leave classroom party to go to on-campus nightclub.
3 am... STUK closes, and there is an after-party at someone's apartment complete with more alcoholic beverages and drunk snacks.

So far, Ryan and I have yet to experience the 3 am after-after party. I really don't know how people do it when they have Swedish class every morning. Actually, I take that back... I do know how they do it. But I don't think my anti-American professor would look too kindly on me if I stumbled into class at 10 am. Although she doesn't seem to mind when all the French do... oh well.

On Thursday we went to STUK for the first time. It was 80's night and people got pretty into it by dressing up. The bar was really cool! There was also a live band in one of the rooms that was actually really good. The bar's outside area designated for smokers had a little tent set up and they were grilling brats. And these weren't like the hotdogs we had at the BBQ... they were actually good! I'm talking like amazing. Probably, hands down, the most delicious brat I've ever had.

Unfortunately, blogger is being weird right now and it won't let me upload the pictures I have from the nightclub. I guess it will have to wait until tomorrow. Please, don't hold your breath and try not to let the suspicion kill you in the next 24 hours. We don't need the excitement of our blog to be killing anyone... we can't afford to fly back for a funeral. ;)