New Blog

My new blog has been moved to http://www.american-desiinsweden.blogspot.com/

Autumn in Sweden through Nikon d5000

My husband has this passion for photography.  Something which I had discovered in the beginning of our marriage.  He loves traveling and taking pictures, another thing we have in common, so my wonderful parents gave us a Nikon d5000 as a birthday present. 

I was surprised by his first-hand skills.

Moreover, it makes me appreciate Sweden even more to see its breathtaking beauty.  May this nature always stay.

The making of a Bollywood Saree - 1

Have you ever had an art teacher?  If so, did your art teacher ever tell you that when you begin to a sketch, nobody will ever be able to tell what the final result will be?   Well, this saree project is a little something like that.  My goal is to make this a gorgeous "bollywood saree" but if you look at it now, everything is coming from scratch.  I have only started and it looks more than simple.

Before buying anything, I've found some old clothes of mine that don't fit me anymore.  A white selwar kamese that is nearly in a torn up condition.  Now that selwar kamsese has like dozens of small white beads and sequence.  SO i have decided to slowly and patiently take them off one by one, collect them, make them into a chain, and then lay it, stitch it on the georgette saree, which is btw, SO DIFFICULT to handle. 

So now I am almost ready to draw a sketch of what exactly i want in this long piece of silky light shaded cloth. 

This is one of my favorite colors and i would like to bring out the blues and greens along with silver. 

Till next time! :)

The Man who makes me smile

He just makes me smile.  No reason neccessary.  When he's not at home, I swear, he takes every bit of excitement and energy with him, leaving the house completely empty and silent, even when there is people in the house.  His presence puts a smile on every face.  It's just that wonderful outgoing personality he has.  Full of adventure and expressive emotions.

There are so many sides he carries.  From a reserved, down to earth sensitive grown man to a playfull, energetic 16-year-old young boy with his flirty mood.  He's that strong man of steel that has a soft spot hiding somewhere inside him. 

His self-confidence is simply amazing.  So amazing that you can never confuse it with arrogance. 

Honesty glows inside him. 

He lives the moment, enjoys life, and wants me to do the same.  He trusts me with all his heart.  How can I not do the same?

He gives me support in every single way.  Never lets me feel limited, never gave me a chance to say "I can't do this because of you" or say "I want this" more than once. 

He is so incredible.  Beyond words to express.  My biggest prize in life, my one and only love, my dear husband.

They way you came into my life still feels like a miracle, and always will.  I pray for you every day.  I will always be by your side.

You just make me smile.

Sara The Swedish Teacher - The BEST blog for learning Swedish

I came to Sweden around the end of March 2010 and got registered immediately to SFI, starting sfi class in the beginning of April.  I completed my entire SFI last month, January 2011, AND got paid 12000 kr  as sfi bonus, for completing sfi in less than a year. 

When i first started learning swedish, every in my mind was jumbled up.  I seriously had no idea where to start because it all seemed so impossible.  My first month was horrible.  I understood nothing, I only knew how to say "jag heter Tani" and "hejdå", and I knew it will take me a while to get used to this new, strange language that everyone kept babbling in.

A few months later when i finally forced myself to pay attention to swedish through watching at least half an hour of swedish tv in the morning and reading a small article from the Metro newspaper without understanding a single thing, and overhearing others speak swedish, I finally came across this website in http://www.thelocal.se/ called "The Swedish Teacher".  

The Local is an excellent website for english speakers living in Sweden.  It has everything from A-Z about Sweden.  How to live, what to do, where to do it.  I started using this webside from the time i decided to apply for residency permit in Sweden.  It has all the information you will ever have to know about living.  It keeps you informed about jobs, news, benefits, has discussions, and my most favorite, Sara the Swedish Teacher. 

When i came across this brilliant teacher's blog, it made my life easier.  She literally rescued me from sinking into a deep pond of confusion. 

Grammar questions, how to differentiate among different meanings, phrases, words, how to understand the every day language, how to SPEAK the every day language.  

She basically organizes everything floating in your mind about the swedish language. 

After looking at a few posts on her blog, not only did i know more than everybody else in my class, but i got impressive comments from my teachers about my writing and oral explanations.  I've recommened this site to other students and whoever went to this learned something useful and came to never forget the lesson because Sara teaches it so incredibly well.  It's just amazing. 

Jag är faktiskt tacksam för det.

I am in the verge of finishing SAS grund, and even now, I visit Sara's blog and learn new things from each post.  Big difficult things that are so hard for teachers to explain and students to grasp. 

My 2 secret tools and best friends that are making me succeed in svenska:  Folkets Lexikon and Sara the Swedish Teacher.

Thank you!

Diary of Tani 4 - The making of a bollywood saree

Ever since i was a kid, i've always had this thing for fashion designing...as well as interioir decorating, and architecture, and art, and all the creative stuff!  But lately i've been thinking of finally taking the big step and making a saree.  I can't wait to start my new project of making a bollywood saree!  I need to find a very unique way to design this.

Sarees are usually terribly expensive.  Even though it might be cheaper in Bangladesh, i still think they are increasing the prices for the really fancy ones.  Like the wonderful silk, or georgette sarees in which heavy sequencing are done. 

The sarees celebrities wear in the hindi movies, bollywood sarees, are out of the question.  You wouldn't want to look at the price for that.  It is a total rip off. 

Now since i have this plane silk cloth somewhere hiding in my closet, i might as well start adding my designs and filling it up with stones and other sequents.  For less money.

We will start the designing tomorrow, woohoo!  I will add pictures during the process of the making of a bollywood saree!

The Best Roshogollah recipe - A bangladeshi famous dessert

It can be called rasgullah (how most people say it), roshogollah (the correct bengali way to pronounce it) or "shada mishti" white sweet ( what my husband and my brother-in-laws call it).

A mouth-watering bangali dessert made the simplist way...

3 liters milk (mjölk eller gammaldags mjölk)
3 cups yogurt (filmjölk)
one tablespoon lemon (citrun)
2 teaspoons samolina powder
4cups suger/söcker
4 cups water/vatten

1. Put 3 liters of whole milk on the stove in medium heat and bring to a boil.
2. Stir every few seconds.
3. Once the milk rises, immidiately add 2 cups of yogurt very slowly and DO NOT stir while pouring the yogurt.  Just stir once with the wooden spoon after pouring half the yogurt.
4. Add just one tablespoon of fresh lemon juice.
5.  Let the pot of milk stay in low heat until all remaining portions of milk condenses and turns into paneer.
(You will clearly see the paneer and water seperate)
6.  Strain the suspended milk and keep the chunks of paneer. 
7.  Keep the fresh paneer in cheesecloth or similar thin cloth and tigh it up in a sac, Let the remaining water drop, then squeeze the sac until no water comes out from the paneer.  Let it cool in almost room temp.

8.  Blend the paneer very well with 2 teaspoon samolina powder and blend the mixture until it is a smooth, soft dough. 
9.  Meanwhile, heat a pot water with sugar in high heat until a very thin syrup forms.  Slightly thin is enough, make sure it is not thick! 
9.  Make 1.5 inch smooth balls from the paneer dough.
10.  Gently put all the balls inside the hot pot of boiling sugar water (which should now become a thin syrup) and put the top on the pot.  DO NOT PEEK.
11.  Leave for 8  to 10min and the balls should become slightly larger.  THe sweetness should go inside the paneer balls by now.
10.  The roshogollahs should be ready.  Turn off the stove.  Serve gently in a large bowl, and let it cool to room temperature. 
11.  After they are cooled to room temperature, they are soft, sweet and perfectly ready to be served!

Racism in the Metro

It's a huge disappointment to come across an extreme racist, especially when the country is completely new to you.  The last thing you want to see is discrimination.  An old problem that started after the existance of mankind.  We are of equal kind, but some how division tends to emerge within our own kind.

My first look at a hardcore racism case happened around the middle of last year in the metro.  Though i wasn't targeted, it still hit me to see the fact that 2 young muslim girls were put on the spot and insulted, cursed at, and with abusive words kicked off the train by a crazy bald, buff white Svensk in his late 20s.
This man, however, wasn't only showing hatred towards Muslim girls, but first, towards Muslims, then towards immigrants, after that comes women, most specifically towards young women who were alone.  If i wasn't with my husband that evening in the train, he would have made an abusive remark to me as well, and that really would have ruined my entire day.

It all started when the 2 young students got into the train and started normally talking and giggling just like teenagers do.  They wore hijabs on their heads, which made it obvious that they were Muslims.  In few seats in front of them sat a completely wasted couple who was creating this big disturbing scene in the Metro.  They moaned and cried out loud and had bad odor, they wore ripped up clothing, the woman wearing hardly anything, showing whatever she pleases.  The 2 students tried ignoring the scene just like everybody else, but they couldn't help but send eachother the look that they were absolutely aggrevated. 

Apparently, a man sitting behind them, facing one of the students noticed the aggrevated look.  Out of the blue I we all hear angry yelling wich transformed into roaring and yelling of dirty words addressed to the Muslim girls.  The man did not stop.   The girls first seemed shocked, then insulted as he kept telling them to dare to look him in the eye, that he would show them where they really belong, that they don't belong in this country, niether do their nasty parents.  Tears started coming out of their shameful eyes as they heard the racist talk turning into inappropriate sexually perverted talk.  It was probably their first time hearing things like that.  They were probably questioning themselves, "what did i do wrong to deserve this in front of so many people?".  The entire metro was quiet with the exception of the psychotic white man who kept trying to get the girls' attention by saying "you bitch" and after every harrassing remark, he would bang the window or shake the chair, sometimes tighten his fists and grind his teeth as if he were about to take some grewsome action towards the girls, as well as every other muslim girl that matched the character. 

The 2 muslim young girls had their books held tightly against their chest, looking down at the floor, and as soon as the train stopped for the next station, they left with tears running constantly down their red face. 

After that, people left one by one, trying to avoid the man before he started again.  No single lady got away without a remark however.  Some had it worse than others. But not as harsh as the Muslim girls. 

Funny thing was, the drunk couple became sober as hell after that man's act. 

My husband was so disgusted at the abusive violent man that he couldn't take his eyes off of him.  I hated that.  I didn't want us to get in some kind of nasty trouble for this psycho.  Somehow my husband held his anger, feeling terrible for the young little girls, and as soon as we got out of the train, i let out a huge breath with relief.  "Boy do I feel sorry for the people who will get off with that psycho."  I told my husband.  He agreed.  Somewhere inside, i could sense his fear of the man too. 

As we approached the bus stop, I couldn't believe my eyes.  I had to pinch myself to see if this wasn't a nightmare, but my heartbeat kept getting faster as i saw the man passing us by with his eyes looking directly at us, with an odd smile that i will never be able to explain.  "what the fuck" thought my husband.

I prayed for the bus to come faster, and hoped that he will leave us alone.  That he wouldn't end up living in the same street as us, not get off at the same stop.  It was getting darker and i kept praying, until suddenly, the man disappeared. 

It was a place where it was impossible to hide, but somehow in seconds, he disappeared. 

I thanked Allah and kept praying for protection. 

That night, I thanked Allah for all the protection I had.  For giving me guidance.  And i prayed for all the people that suffer through abuse in daily life.  I prayed for the oppressed, for the poor, for the hungry,for the women who had no shelter, who become used and thrown away to give them guidance.

Those might be simple dirty remarks the man made, but his words hit me deep.  It made me think of his capabilities and of the people that commit crime to the innocent.  

We should be thankful for what we have.  And we should appreciate our life, the things around us, the PEOPLE around us. 
If you don't like someone, avoid them.  But end racism in your hearts.

I live in Winter Wonderland

This is what I walk though every day. I have this feeling that I will certainly miss my first winter in Sweden as soon as all the lovely snow disappears...Just a feeling....

My First month learning Swedish

My first several months in Sweden was interesting. Even though I live in a house where mostly Bangla is spoken, i occasionally hear Swedish as well. My husband and his family has been living here for more than 20 years so it is only natural that even when they speak bangla or english, swedish pops in the conversatoin.

I sometimes noticed my father-in-law say det går inte when my mother-in-law would ask him about some household appliance. SO, instead of asking what it actually meant, my genius self would assume that det går inte means I dont know. I would go to sfi class and when the teacher would ask me something that i did not know the answer to, i would simply reply back saying, "Det går inte". The nice teacher would just stare at me with a helpless smile.

A week later i learned the REAL translation of I dont know. It was "Jag vet inte." Boy was I off! So i wondered, all this time i had been saying what???

"Det går inte" means It doesnt or it is not going too well or Its not working.

DING DING!
Ofcourse! Household appliance not working..."det går inte".. and i used this in sfi??? When the teacher asked me what time it was in swedish, i said it doesnt work. I felt pretty stupid. But hey, i learned from my mistake. Ha!

Another alternative i use now is "Ingen aning" which means "no idea or no clue".

Diary of Tani 3: Just Me and Mr. Lax

It feels very akward when your fullhouse becomes empty. That's what happened this evening. I was preparing Sweden's famous Lax (special swedish catfish) to cook dinner with while each person in the house left one by one. My mother-in-law was working the evening shift today at vårdhuset, my husband called to tell me he was not going to arrive home at his normal 6pm time, my fathe-in-law was heading towards the mosq for prayer, my 2 other brother-in-laws had plans to go out so they were getting ready to leave. Suddenly, there was silence. A rare condition for this warm and comfy radhus.

So earlier today, my brother-in-law and I went to go get the car checked since i finally got my yearly appointment to check my car. That took me about 300kr. So good thing was nothing was wrong with the car.



On the way home, we (although my brother-in-law hates doing grocery especially during his month off from studies) decided to do some short grocerie. We got 2 huge fresh Lax fish.

My father-in-law showed me how to cut one of the fish, so bless him for cutting one of them for me. The rest of the evening i struggled cutting the slippery, slimy, huge fish that was staring right at me with it's big face, sticking it's tongue at me. It was kind of freaky. But i finally got the hold of it and started piecing it. Put one smal portion aside for dinner tonight. Put the rest away in the fridge. Cleaned the big mess i made. Had to clean the entire kitche.

Took a break before cooking and suddenly felt really lonely. I called my husband and he seemed very busy so i didn't really want to disturb him. So i went back to the kitchen. Lit up some candles in the quiet darkness..the swedish way to go :)
Cooked delicious lux for dinner. And by the time it everybody started coming home my dish was hot, ready to serve.

I wonder sometimes how i lived alone as the only child when my parents used to work all day... Life really does change. Now i am so scared of loneliness. I am so used to living with a big family now.

The Question Some Men Ask me in Sweden

I had been studying Swedish for about 11 months now and i have met plenty of immigrants from all around the world. Among them are many Bangladeshis as well.



According to most bengalis, having an American passport means you will never leave America, the "land of opportunity", for any other country in the world. Rather it should be the other way around.

So in my case, most bengalis who especially have relatives living in the U.S.A. question me with a dumbstrucken face as to why I chose to leave my home to live in Europe.

My decision of settling with my husband in Sweden was one of the biggest controversial topics in Georgia. Everybody thought i was crazy and they still probably do, because if they were in my place they would most definitely either make their husband come to the states or break the relationship. IF they were in my place. IF statements are bogus statements. Stepping into reality puts you in a whole different level. So we need to get out of this IF fantasy world now.

When meet a new classmate who is a male from either the middle east or asia, they ask me first, where i come from. The conversation goes a little something like this:

Stranger: Where are you from?

Me: Bangladesh.

Stranger: Really? You don't look at all like it.

Stranger: You speak good english.

Me: THank you, I grew up in the states.

Stranger: Oh really? Then why did you move here?

Me: My husband lives here. I got married and then moved up here.

Stranger: Oh! You are married?
(Then there is this akward silence, leading to a very weird question)
Stranger: Did you move here by choice ? It would be so easy for you to succeed in your home. Are you happy here?

I feel that it is a rather personal question but I get asked this occasionally. I think it's such a sensitive time to answer. Ofcourse i feel homesick. If i keep thinking about the opportunities i have lost by leaving America, leaving my family and loved ones, my life, how can i concentrate on learning Swedish? It disturbs me.

My SAS grund teacher gave us this excellent advice of being "nutänkande". In other words, concentrate on what you are doing NOW and worry about nothing else. Don't overthink about the future. If you think far off on how to be a swedish pharmacist, and look at yourself now, as a SAS grund level student trying to be a pharmacist, you will obviously think it is all impossible. So just go with the flow and focus on the current goal you have put up for yourself.

Despite all the great advices i get, i still have to put up with some really nosey men who keep asking me the same question every day. I respect everybodys opinion, but sometimes keep asking me one annoying thing over and over again really affects me.

I end up thinking why i really moved to Sweden.

Moving to sweden was absolutely my own choice and nobody forced me. Some people need to get that misconception out oftheir head, that I had no choice but to come to sweden.

Besides, I am loving the atmosphere here. There are many things that i find wonderful about this country. Every land has it's good and bad sides. Honestly, i think Stockholm holds more good qualities than any other country in the world. The citizens here are very happy and healthy. They are "nöjd". And considering i am a woman, i am even more satisfied. This country is the best place for especially women to live in.

How the long annoying conversation ended with one of the men:

Stranger: I still don't get why youleft such a big country like America and moved to Sweden. It's harder to succeed here.

Me: I want to be positive about whatever I do in my life. So to me, it really doesn't matter where I live. Living in Stockholm feels a lot like living in Georgia.

Stranger: I didn't mean to say you should take it negatively....ok. I guess it's all up to you how you want to lead your life.

Me: Yeah, I guess so.

About to catch the Metro

During the winter days, i have been struggling just to walk a few blocks to take the Metro. Every day before i get out I think of the piles of snow i have to walk over, which would always make me a few minutes too late to catch the train i normally catch on a dry non-icy day.

I wear my comfy expensive boots and while i walk i feel the boot laces intieing and dangling interrupting my pace. I hate those boots at the time being. Even after double-tieing them so tightly they always seem to untie.

As I walk faster I reach the station and take the escalator up towards my train. I try to run up but there are too many people blocking the way and instead i have to stand in a que. As we reach up, the person in front of me stops right in front of the endpoint of the escalator causing horrible escalator traffic behind me. I feel people bumping into me behind me, blaming me that i was the one who walked too slow or stopped unreasonably.

When there is "snö oväder" i get very unlucky and see a delayed notice of the train that i will take. It finally comes and i get into the train as fast as i can (because stockholm is always about being in a hurry) and i pass through all the tall people standing and find a good place to sit right by the window. Sometimes i get lucky, other times i stand.

In the winter i see the Metro packed. So many people, half of them reading the Metro newspaper. But in the morning, it's amazing how quiet the metro can be.

You close your eyes and it will feel like nobody is there, then you open and see there is not a seat empty, not even an empty place to stand, but despit all that, it is absolutely "tyst". So so quiet.

Welcome to Sweden.... :)

Diary of Tani 2: My goals of the month

So it is snowing even more today. Just when i thought it will start to melt.

I lived in Georgia all my life, so I am this southern girl who loves the warm summer afternoons which I experienced almost every of the year. Compared to where i live now, Georgia had only one month of winter. I hardly saw snow.

Now in Sweden, it's a whole different story.

When will spring come?????

Moving on.....

Since i have completed sfi and finally got my sfi bonus (pat on the back for me), I am studying SAS grund now. I plan on completing SAS grund level by the end of next week. I am very close to finishing it so i think it's quit possible to finally move on to SAS A.

I surprised myself by completing sfi in about 7 months, but i need to really keep it up and do the same for SAS levels! I have a long way to go.

I want to study pharmacy here and be an Apotekare!
So i really need to get started with university level studies here and start making some income as well.

Speaking of which, i need to start looking back at my biology and chemistry textbooks and do some self-tests on how much i remember from college back in the states.

Boy do i miss the states. I miss my home, my parents especially. My friends.. Just everything.

I need to visit soon so i can get this horrible homesick feeling out of me.

I have to book my tickets for next month.

Expectations of a Bangali (Desi) Bride

Being married to the oldest son of the household in a Bangladeshi traditional family put me in a lot of mental stress in the beginning of my newly married life as the oldest "bhabie".

I sat patiently in the floral seat in my heavy wedding dress with excessive gold jewelry and makeup in front of all the unfamiliar guests that stared at me and probably asked about what kind of girl i really was. What was my full name? Where did i come from? Have i completed my studies? If i was really fair or was the white heavy makeup hiding my dark skin? What did my parents do for a living? The questions floated around the banquet as I struggled to follow the photographer's direction in the extremely hot bright camera light that was shot out towards my face as to how i should tilt my head or how wide i should smile, as if i was a moving manniquin.

As my distant relatives came one by one to greet me and talk to me for a few moments they gave me random advice about the Do's and Dont's of a bride. It all made me confused and nervous.

Do's: "keep your ears open at all times. Keep track of what goes around you and what every family member is up to. Everyone expects YOU, as the "boro bou" (basically first wife) to know everything."

Don'ts: "Listen to your elders. Do not try to correct them. Do NOT talk back to anybody."

(on my mind, I was thinking, "Isn't being myself enough?" since it was a LOVE marriage.)

So after the the endless fancy wedding ceremonies that made both sides of the family have empty pockets, it was time for me to meet my husband's huge family in Comilla, Bangladesh. A place in Bangladesh that i have never been to before. It was quite calming compared to the busy and noisy city of Dhaka. Fewer people, better air, and more cows.

After the 6 hour long bumpy journey, we finally arrive at the Comilla house where the entire groom's side was waiting. I was almost car sick, had a killer headache from the lack of sleep and stress from the night before. I somehow managed to wear my heavy wedding saree all by myself for the first time ever in less than 3 minutes and jumped in the car for the journey. Didn't have time to do my hair or put exccessive makeup, just some natural colored lipstick and eyeliner.

When i stepped out of the car, instead of welcomed greetings i suddenly saw frowns and a load of disappointment on each relative's face. I was terrified, because i knew their face transformed from excitement to shame by just looking at me, the new bride.

The aunt came and stared at me pecularly saying, "My God, her hair is a mess!"

On the other side, i had noticed 2 professional bengali cameramen taping us getting out of the car. "great" i thought. " I look ugly, AND i am being taped." I just wanted to shoot myself.

I wanted to justify the reason for my current condition. That i didn't know i had to sit in the parlor for 4hours AGAIN in the morning just to impress the entire small village. That i had a headache and was probably on the way to having a very nasty cold. That i had no sleep and i just wanted to rest, and be with my husband.

I remembered one of my relatives telling me NOT to talk back especially to your elders. It will leave a bad impression. So i stayed quiet.

If only i knew that i needed artificial makeup and a fancy hairdo even after the wedding.

Luckily everybody in the house calmed down after the entire traditional welcoming was over. Throwing flowers at the door, cutting the ribbon to our new house, feeding sweets and lemonade, and videosessions of us in the flowery wedding bed. Those things i actually liked.

All formalities were done. And so the next expectation came across. I was asked several times by my father-in-law, "Where are your gold bengals? Where is your wrist watch? A bride should always have jewelry on her." Something i was never used to wearing. I loved the simple style. Gold and i did not go well.

I had to be girly girly i guess. I realized that the women around me were better dressed than i was. They put on their heaviest gold sets, sequenting outfits, and so on.

I got this one from the women, "You need to eat more honey, look at you, you are like a stick."

Traditional bengalis really despise slim girls.

I've realized I had to try to look better for my new relatives and in-laws.. Apparently it was much harder to impress them than my husband. My husband loved me the way i was. But i needed to look nice for the others as well, for the time being, or else i will explode of taking in so much critisizm.

Besides, i was always a girl who never really got much criticism before. I was the only child who everybody loved. So it was a bit different for me.

Then came the introduction of the elders. Everytime i met respected elders in the family i had to touch their feet for blessings. It's another well-known tradition that must be done. One time aftermeeting them, another time before saying goodbye.

Despite all that, the entire family was terribly nice to me. They never let me do a single thing. They kept saying, "No sit sit, you are the 'bou', you can't do any work. Relax and be with your husband."

Oh one thing i forgot to mention. I had to wear traditional clothes. Pants were absolutely forbidden.

There was obviously always a choice. I had freedom. But it was better to stay on the traditonal side or else i would get the bad impression.. that i am an american-bengali girl whos parents had forgotten to teach their daughter about bengali tradition.

Believe me, there are much valuable things about tradition i know. I count these as trivial things. But to bangladeshi elders, this is a very very big thing.

V-day 2011: Short and sweet words from my love

Tu istarha meri zingadi mein shaamil hai...

(You are involved and tied up in my life in such a way...)


jahan bhi jau yeh lagta hai teri mehfil hai

(that wherever I go, it always feels like your present somewhere around here...)

original song by mohammad rafi

Diary of Tani 1

It was -18 C this morning! It's about -10C now. Det är för kallt! It's way too cold in Sweden! Beshi thanda! Bohot zyada thand hain!

I am ready for spring to come!

At this point i am sipping hot tea and sitting by the window, wondering how lucky my friends are right now in Georgia. While they're wearing their shorts and t-shirts I am stuck here with those layered up clothes, boots, fat jacket, struggling to walk faster in the 12inch deep snow.

So moving on.. Since i am so obssesed with bollywood, i must mention the upcoming hindi movie, Patiala House, which should release in Stockholm in theaters this Sunday. I live in a family that has three huge fans of Akshay Kumar so I have no doubt saying we are going to the movies to see this.

I will probably cook fish curry with tomatoes and celantros tonight for dinner.

That's about all i can say for today.

Hope everyone has a wonderful Valentines day.

5 krowns or Hold It!

So here is the first piece of information i got..use the bathroom before going out anywhere in Sweden. It's a wonderful city and it involves a lot of walking.


It was on the week of August when i came with my wonderful parents to visit my sweetheart and his family who resided in Sweden. I found it fascinating that it was my first time visiting Europe, and that i was eventually going to become a resident of this beautiful city called Stockholm.

One warm sunshiney evening we all went out as a family to have a personal tour around the city led by the man who knows best, my husband ( who was at the time my future fiance) along with his brothers.

It was one hot summer day and we had just finished eating dinner. We all took a walk down Kungsholmen when I started feeling a burning sensation inside my stomach. I had realized that i wasn't the traveling type of girl. No matter how sanitary the country is i will get indigestion problems wherever I go. On top of that, my bladder kept giving me the signal that it was time to "release". Thats a new problem i had just then discovered. Never had bladder problems before.
It was quite "konstig".
Now was my uncontrollable bladder and my angry stomach signs that told me i was suddenly aging or that Sweden wasn't the place for me? I hadn't a clue. All i knew was I couldn't sit or walk any longer until i found the nearest public restroom.

Little did i know that we were nowhere near any restrooms.

Finally we found a closeby restaurant, and while i was feeling embarassed to notice that i wasn't the least bit flattering at this moment to my futur in-laws, struggled to manage myself to walk and even stand normally with my mother-in-laws brand new heels on, which she had kindly offered me to borrow for the day with my matching outfit. Walking with heels on pavement when ur sick to the stomach is the last terrible feeling tou would want to experience.

My poor husband ran to the restaurant and asked for the "toalett" for me. He comes running back saying he found one, but unfortunately this was the day he had no extra change on him. Niether did anyone else. I only stared at him with confusion when he asked me for change, which i didnt have either. He said you obviously need at least 5 kronor in order to get into the bathroom.

Paying to go to the bathroom? Seriously, I thought.

In the horrible condition that i was, i still had to say , " But in the U.S. the bathroom is free!"

I thought it was so ridiculous that i didnt even feel like going inside with a bathroom ticket.

It really made me appreciate America for what it provides me with.

The again, bathrooms in Stockholm are much cleaner due to the fact that limited people use it for the right purpose at the neccessary time by PAYING first.

Now i know to always keep extra change with me for numerous reasons such as to potty.