Monday, September 23, 2013

An unreal life

Today I met a colleague for coffee, a professor affiliated my department, but whom I have only briefly interacted with before. In fact it turned out he did not know my history or how I had ended up in Sweden*. When he asked about an industrial research company in Denmark, I admitted that I had only ever gone to university there, most of my adulthood I have spent in the US and the UK. I laughingly said, "Unless you count waitressing in my early twenties, I have never held an actual job in Denmark". We continued talking and he again showed lack of knowledge in terms of my background by explaining that it can look good on your CV to have co-authored with a range of people. It was a well-intentioned piece of advice but also something I have been aware of for over 10 years and which is reflected in my list of publications. He continued: "I mean, if you want a career here in Sweden". I laughed again but bit my tongue and didn't say the obvious: "But I don't want that. I want to make sure I have a CV that can take me out of here again". This was when I realized that he had definitely did not know about my situation and in a way it was nice. I was a blank slate to him and could give a fresh impression.

But it also hit a nerve because it made me remember that people think I'm here because of a specific desire for me to be living in Sweden. I even try to convince myself occasionally that I want to be here. But with each weird encounter on the street, each experience with Swedish lack of ambitions in my research world, I am reminded that it was never my own self-motivated choice to move here. Fact is that since I never consciously decided to live here, I keep pretending I don't. My Swedish has not only deteriorated, I am also refusing to speak it now, except for ordering my morning latte. I find myself speaking English to people if I need something outside of work (at work I only speak English, per principle) and Danish if I need to have a short conversation (Danish and Swedish is close enough that most people can understand basics of the other language if spoken slowly and keywords are replaced). I pretend I don't belong in this society but that I'm here on short transit. Almost two years ago, I felt my life here was unreal, and honestly, it hasn't changed much since. I continue a narrative inside my head, expressing just how annoying Swedes are and how stupid things can be here. I count the number of Swedes that I really like at any given moment (three right now: a colleague who lives in the US, a friend who lives in the UK and my close collaborator and co-manager in my department; can't think of anybody else). Everybody else I tolerate, get along with, or they are foreigners like me. Because that's what happen when you live in a foreign country: You gravitate towards other foreigners and my closest friends here are not Swedish.

But it also motivates me to not give up. I have not given up on moving to a place where I really want to live, or a place where I can be closer to my family. In fact, some of my recent decisions in terms of work are not just to improve my immediate situation, but also for building up a springboard that can possibly take me away. And I really, really hope that my personal life will let me; however right now I'm here and I'm gonna make the best of it. Real or unreal.

*Note, that this is not a case of me imagining that I am terribly famous but more a reflection of my field (and I would say many academic fields) where a lot of us know one another and know about one another through colleagues. It largely comes from reading others' research papers and people moving research groups frequently.


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