Swenglish Documentary Trailer

Film maker Adriana Sabau followed me with her camera when I did my Swenglish project. Staying with 30 people for 30 weeks to celebrate my 30th. An odd celebration, I know. It was more of an escape... 

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Question 28: What's Your Political Views?

Unhappy but passive

During the Swenglish-project, the conservatives were in power in both England and Sweden. Just about everyone I stayed with were unhappy with the political situation. Had opinions about what was wrong and how unfair everything was. The rich getting richer and the poorer getting poorer. But very few tried to do something about it.

"I have strong social values but don’t see them reflected in what most political parties represent./.../The current situation? I probably don’t know enough of what’s going on to make an intelligent response." 

- young English woman

Green Values to the Left of the Middle

At least all participants voted. Apart from one person in England who thought that the system was corrupt. Only two of the participants in England were politically active, not in a party, but they regularly took part in marches and expressed their opinions through their art. There were also a few that had actively chosen an alternative green life style and only bought organic and local products. Something that can be seen as a political choice. A majority of the people I stayed with in England voted for the The Green Party in the latest election.

In Sweden two people were into party politics or were active members of the union. And a couple of people were active through grassroot movements. The people I stayed with in Sweden had generally opinions to the left of the middle, but some voted randomly and weren't that interested in politics at all.

Bubble

I learnt that politics is more grey than black and white. Or more rainbow coloured if you're trying to be positive. During my years in England I lived in a bubble and didn't follow the news at all. A liberating feeling on one hand, but on the other hand I've got a big knowledge gap to fill. To be able to change something or at least discuss something you need to know what's going on.

People More Fed Up in England

If I'm going to generalise, people in England were more fed up and unhappy with the political situation while people in Sweden were unhappy but not as fed up.

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This study is by no means scientific, the answers are based on interviewing 15 people in England and 15 people in Sweden, aged 22-59. Look out for the next question: What's your attitude towards politics?

Happy Winter Solstice!

Hooray! The days are getting longer again! (Well, a long day doesn't sound very positive, but what I really mean is that the days are getting lighter and brighter. I could really do with some sun right now.)

In England I used to celebrate the Winter Solstice by watching the light parade "Burning of the Clocks" that went through Brighton and finished off with fireworks on the beach. It felt a bit empty not being there this year, but I went for a walk along the quayside in Gothenburg and was hit by all the artificial lights.

In the past, in Sweden, 21 December was called "Tomas fylltunna" which means "Tomas pissed barrel" as it was time to try the Christmas beer ... As I mentioned in my previous post, even in the 19th century people thought that Lucia was the longest night instead of the 21st or the 22nd. Unfortunately I have no home brewed beer to try ... 

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Question 8c: How Settled do you feel in your Neigbourhood?

I don't know the street names. Don't know the short cuts. Don't have my local café or pub. I'm not recognised when I go to the shops. Basically, I haven't lived here long enough.

Thursday night I passed a café with live music. There was a nice atmosphere, people hung out in the street with paper cups of coffee and cans of beer. I stopped, listened to three songs. I could have stayed longer, but it felt as if I was a visitor, an observer. A tourist even. However, that's quite a nice feeling and I should enjoy it while it lasts.

Most of the Swenglish participants felt more at home in their city in general than in their neighbourhood in particular. But there were a few exceptions. A person in Malmö said that she felt more at home in the Möllan area than in Malmö itself. And in Brighton a couple of people felt particularly settled in the Hanover area. Perhaps it's easier to feel settled in an area that's got a specific character or it could just depend on for how long you've lived somewhere. Or if your friends live in the same area.

Many people mentioned neighbours. The ones who had a good relationship with their neighbours - or at least said hello to them on a regular basis - felt more settled in their area. I'd thought that people in England were more friendly towards their neighbours, inviting them over for tea and stuff, but through living with the Swedish Swenglish people I realised that there's not a big difference in Sweden. It mostly depends on where and how you live. If you live in a house in a village it's more natural to chat to your neighbours than if you live in a block of flats in a big city.

This study is by no means scientific, the answers are based on interviewing 15 people in England and 15 people in Sweden, aged 22-59. Look out for the next question: How settled do you feel in your flat/house?

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Question 8b: How settled do you feel in your city/town?

"Sometimes I feel like my only friend is the city I live in, The City of Angels, lonely as I am together we cry" - Red Hot Chili Peppers, Under the Bridge

I've never felt as settled as I did in Brighton & Hove. After just a few weeks there as a 19-year-old, it felt as if the city was my friend - just like the Red Hot Chili Peppers song - and one of the people I stayed with during Swenglish said: Brighton treats me well, as if it was truly a character.

Most of the people I stayed with in England lived in the Brighton area and a majority said they felt very settled there and couldn't imagine living anywhere else in Britain. Funnily enough no one was born in Brighton and only two had lived their as kids. The rest had moved there to study - or in many cases just ended up there because Brighton had a good vibe. Open-minded and friendly were words that turned up time and time again.

Of the Swedes, 8 of 15 felt very settled in their current cities or towns. Especially the ones who lived in Umeå (both of them from Småland) seemed to be in love with their city, but also 3 out of 4 people in Stockholm (none of them native) felt very settled. So you don't have to be born and bred in a certain place to feel settled. Only 7 out of 30 people lived in or near their hometown.

My dilemma is that I feel more settled in Brighton than in Sweden, but I feel more settled in Sweden than in England ...

This study is by no means scientific, the answers are based on interviewing 15 people in England and 15 people in Sweden, aged 22-59. Look out for the next question: How settled do you feel in your neighbourhood?

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Question 7: How did you end up where you live now?

This is the view from The Attic where I live right now. How did I end up here? Would you like to hear the short or the long story?

Question 7 wasn't an easy question. Sometimes I had to limit my question from country to city to flat/house. It would take up too much space publishing all the answers; besides it would be hard for the project people to remain anonymous. 

What surprised me though was that a lot of the people had ended up in their current location because of love. People hade either moved somewhere because of a partner, moved in with a partner or had wanted to get away from a partner. The second most popular reason for ending up somewhere was university studies or other studies. Other reasons were work, money, homesickness, a longing for nature and a desire to have a place of one's own.

Yesterday, I reluctantly changed my "current location" on Facebook from Brighton to Gothenburg (Göteborg). I still find it hard to accept that I actually don't live in England at the moment. It's not like I've made a final decision, but I'll stay in Sweden at least until January. So how did I end up here then?

Short story: Midlife crisis ("30-year-old-crisis" in Swedish)
Long story: I did a project that involved staying with 30 different people (15 in England and 15 in Sweden) during 30 weeks and I asked each person 30 question, hoping that their answers would help me work out what to do with my own life. One of the things that I worked out was that I wanted to try university studies. And when you just want to try something it's a big advantage when education is free which is the case in Sweden. Of all the places I visited in Sweden I liked Umeå (in the North) and Gothenburg (on the West coast) best. The reason I chose the later was mainly due to the location. Closer to home. Both to Brighton and to the forests of my hometown. The reasons for ending up in The Attic are private.

This study is by no means scientific, the answers are based on interviewing 15 people in England and 15 people in Sweden, age 22-59. Look out for the next question: How settled do you feel in your country/town/neighbourhood/flat or house?

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Week 2 Revisited - Beer Festival on International Women's Day

I remember International Women's Day from last year very well. Swenglish host number 2 (in England) took me to a beer festival at Hove Town Hall.

As part of your entry fee you got a glass and in that beaker you could be served pints, half-pints or a third of a pint. I couldn’t believe my eyes. The same hall where I had worked as a ballot steward at the local elections was now lined with beer and cider barrels. There was no music and all areas were brightly lit as if we were at a conference.

Arriving at six o’clock there were pre-dominantly men between 40 and 60, perhaps older, sipping their pints or halves or thirds, nodding knowingly, searching for the perfect brew: pale, bitter – or dry if they had cider. An organisation called CAMRA (Campaign for Real Ale) was behind the festival and was originally formed in the 70s by four men in the North who were disillusioned with the UK beer market.

A couple of hours later the know-it-alls had left and the crowd consisted of mainly 20 and 30-year-olds who drank just to get pissed even if sips were swapped and the occasionally comment about flavour slipped into the conversation. Most people seemed to pick their pint by name: Kama Citra, Snake Slayer and Nightmare were only a few of the choices. Others looked out for the ales with the highest alcohol percentage.

To say that the beer festival was a male dominated event isn’t an exaggeration. There weren’t that many women in the room who gave their opinions on real ale. In England, as well as in Sweden, I’ve experienced that people (often the ones who are a bit older) have been surprised when I’ve wanted beer instead of wine or a drink at the pub. Times have changed, but the older generation still frown if a woman orders a pint. Once I went to an informal job meeting with a male colleague and the person we met up with asked what we wanted to drink. Pint of Harveys my colleague said, and I said that I wanted the same. The person who offered the drinks looked at me and said: half pint? As if I wasn’t allowed a full pint because I was a girl.

I’m not saying it’s a good thing that girls drink as much as guys nowadays, but it’s not fair to assume that a girl drinks a certain drink and a certain amount just because she’s a woman. And the same goes to say for guys. I’ve met men who towards the end of the night only wanted half a pint, but haven’t had the guts to order one because it’s not considered macho enough.

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Swenglish - A year later

On Tuesday I'll be 31 and then a year will have passed since I started my Swenglish journey.

Last year was the most eventful and adventurous years in my life. I learnt so much from staying with 30 different people during 30 weeks. I've realised that there's no such thing as the perfect life. Everybody's got their own struggle. Some people want change. Others are quite happy.

"People often talk about being scared of change
But for me I'm more afraid of things staying the same
Cause the game is never won by standing in any one place for too long."

- Nick Cave, "Jesus of the Moon"

The personal purpose of my Swenglish project was to decide whether to live in England or Sweden. It's not that black and white anymore. I'm a person who's addicted to change, but maybe that will change too. Perhaps I don't want any change once I've found a life that I'm happy with. 

This week I'm visiting Brighton & Hove. It gives me a melancholy feeling, a bit like seeing an ex lover that you still have feelings for, but you know that things aren't right. At the moment. I haven't made a final decision. In fact I don't have a "real" life at the moment.

Next week I'll carry on living in the bubble I've lived in since I finished the project: staying in my parents' basement in my hometown, spending my days writing writing writing. The first draft of the Swenglish book is completed and I have a plan for the autumn. I'm not thinking more than 6-10 months ahead, like I've always had. So that hasn't changed.

And I still like Nick Cave. He's got a new album out. He lives in Brighton. I saw his car the other day.

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Week27: Leading English Park & Winning Bandy Team

I had no idea that one of the most English parks in the world is situated in Sweden. I’m back in Stockholm and my host recommended that I walk through Haga Park near his work place. On an information board it said ”one of the world’s leading English parks”. Apparently an English style park consists of view points, lawns, bushes, trees and winding paths. How original. I must admit I didn't see all of the park, but I came across a ”Turkish Pavilion” – which reminded me a bit of the the Royal Pavilion in Brighton.

Last week I tried my luck on the ice, this week I ended up by the side as a spectator, drinking beer. Bandy is a winter sport similar to ice-hockey, but instead of using a flat black puck, the game is played with an orange ball, a bit smaller than a tennis ball. The playing area is bigger than in an ice-hockey and usually the game is held outdoors. 

My host is a fan of the south Stockholm team Hammarby and they won the game against GAIS from Gothenburg with 8-1. Even though I think it’s quite an artful sport to watch, I lost interested after 4-1, feeling sorry for the losing team. I also felt a bit restless because I wanted to be on the ice myself, I quite liked bandy when I was little, as my hometown Nässjö is a ”bandy town”.

After doing so much sport last week I kind of got addicted to the endorphin kick. I’m not interested in competing or running faster or longer, but every time I've stayed with people who exercise a lot I've felt very happy and energetic, and I hope I can keep up with it after Swenglish is completed. One person I stayed with even used the gym as a substitute for anti-depressants. Normally my host goes running three times a week, but he’s having a period of rest at the moment, so I’m climbing on the walls! (Not literally this time ...)

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Week20: A bit of England in Sweden

I’m jealous of my current host. She gets to speak and hear English everyday because she’s brought a bit of England to Sweden in the form of an Englishman. They live in a beautiful house on Österlen, the famous flatland in the south of Sweden where the sky is big and you’re surrounded by a special light.

Everyday I’ve been for walks, walking for half an hour in each direction and I’ve come across a church and a few art galleries, but mostly there are fields and tractors among the scattered villages where people live. I pointed out that in England it would be unusual to walk for half an hour in the countryside and not come across a pub, and that I missed it. Not that I would go to the pub everyday, but just knowing that I had the option would make me feel less isolated. This turned into a heated discussion between my hosts about whether the Swedish countryside has a heart ... Of course it has! It’s just different from England, perhaps to do with the population. Sometimes I find there’s a freedom in the fact that you can’t walk to a pub – there’s nothing to escape to and you’re forced to deal with yourself.

 Apart from the English sausages in the fridge there’s nothing particularly English about the lifestyle of my hosts, it’s just the language really. After three days of having conversations in English I’ve gone back to thinking and dreaming and writing in English. In my head I switched to Swedish just a few weeks ago after having had English as my main thinking and dreaming and writing language for the past few years. Now I’m confused!

My host’s feeling is that Swedish and English aren’t just different because they’re different languages, but the whole structure, how you express yourself and make your voice heard is different and creates one English identity and one Swedish identity. Because her boyfriend doesn’t yet master Swedish she needs to keep her English identity even if she lives in Sweden. He in his turn misses to be able to speak in his Geordie accent with people from the same area.

If I decide to live in Sweden I hope to make some English friends because I miss my English persona and if I decide to live in England I’ll make more of an effort to hang out with Swedish people – something I hated when first moved to Brighton. It can be confusing, but also enriching to keep two languages alive.

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Week18: Trees or Seas, Concrete or Bees?

The deeper I get into my Swenglish project, the more decisions I have to make. I've realised it’s not just about choosing between Sweden and England. There are other things to consider: work or study? Single life or partner/family life? City or countryside? Trees or seas? In the picture I'm not looking for water - I'm up in a hunting tower that people use to spot elks!

This week I’m staying deep in the forests in the county of Småland near the area where I grew up. When I was nineteen I hated the darkness, the tall oppressive tress and the silent lakes – I wanted to get away and see some ”real” life: concrete and traffic and a general ugliness that would match my mood. (I've never lived permanently in the countryside though, just in a small town, surrounded by forest.) 

I escaped to England and ended up in Portslade – at the outskirts of Brighton – and found it very romantic with the industrial port and its cargo ships. Boundary Road was bleak: a place where pasty pale people devoured their fish and chips (I pronounced it ”ships” at the time) with their fingers. But Brighton was only a bus ride away and I fell in love with the sea and the hippified punks who hung out in the North Laines.

For years I preferred the sea to the forest, but now I've changed my mind. The most beautiful landscape I know is the countryside of Småland. Staying here makes me calm and creative. The other day my host practiced her guitar in the garden and I lay on the lawn among the fallen leaves and wrote poetry, listening to the buzzing bees. However, a sunny week in the beginning of autumn isn't the same as a grey week in winter when it’s too cold to go outside and the road is a mush of slush. How long would it take before I got bored and restless? How long before I longed for the seafront in Hove? (Where it’s sometimes warm enough to have a cup of tea on the beach in January.) My dream is to live by a forest lake in Småland in summer and by the sea in Brighton in winter. Or ideally spend the spring and autumn in Brighton and live somewhere truly warm like Thailand in winter.

Another thing I've been pondering – this blog post is rather long, it seems like there’s more time in the countryside – is whether you always yearn for the landscape of your childhood at some point. I read an article about an old Greek in a Swedish rest home who was watching the sun go down behind the trees, but still imagined that the sun was setting in the sea on the Greek island where he grew up. I think that if I died in a deckchair on Brighton pier I’d dream of the Swedish forest, and if I died sitting under a tree in Småland I’d dream of the English channel.

The view from my bedroom window is of a 13th century church with a graveyard. There's also a tractor and some cows if I crane my neck. And in the room next door is a rehearsal studio. The countryside is not dead!

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Week X: Takeaway Pints

I've been in Sweden for ten days and I haven't yet been anywhere near a pub. I've been hiding in my parents basement working on my Swenglish book. In my hometown Nässjö there's only one pub, in an English town of the same size - 16 000 people - there would be about twenty pubs.

Once when I was in the Evening Star in Brighton, a friend said he was about to leave, but that he'd get some takeaway beer. I thought he was going to pop to the off licence - instead he went up to the bar and got takeaway pints of ale in old milk bottles! I've never seen anything like it in Sweden - it would be impossible anyway as the milk bottles here are all tetra pack.

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WeekX: Snakebite

I'm asking everyone I'm staying with what their favourite drink is and so far real ale and red wine seem to be the most popular drinks, but I've also had a few odd favourites like Bloody Mary and Prosecco among my answers.

My own favourite alcoholic drink is Snakebite & Black (half lager and half cider with a splash of black currant). Not all bars will serve it though because they fear you might get too drunk as Snakebite tastes a bit like squash.  And I've never managed to get a Snakebite in a Swedish pub, so I sometimes make it at home.

This week I'm having a break from Swenglish which means I can drink exactly what I want as I usually try to drink whatever my host is drinking (or not drinking). The best places to get a Snakebite in Brighton are the Caroline of Brunswick, Prince Albert and the Hobgoblin.

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Week9: Quiz Me

I’d been dreading that I would be taken to a pub quiz at some point. I like the idea of this English tradition: to gather in a pub and team up with friends and strangers alike to answers questions about anything from historical battles to the ingredients of a specific recipe. But in reality quizzes make me uncomfortable because it reminds me that my general knowledge went out of the window when I finished school. And any day I’d prefer to have a chat about weather to being trapped in a quiz for two hours.

The closest Sweden comes to quizzes are "tipsrundor" - nature trails with multiple choice questions pinned to trees. This activity normally takes place in the morning and you’re more likely to win a wooden carved horse than a bottle of wine or cash to spend in the bar. Despite my love for nature I’m not a big fan of this activity either. There’s something about playing games that I can’t get into, perhaps because I don’t care too much about winning or losing. In fact I often want to lose so I can get on with doing something else.

Yesterday wasn’t too bad though. The person I’m staying with has got a good brain. He follows the news and there are books on political, historical and social topics in his bookshelf. When he went out for a cigarette everybody had to wait for him to come back so the quiz could continue ...

There were a few questions that would be easier to answer if you grew up in England, e.g. who was the composer on the £20 note (Elgar) and which East Enders character survived being buried alive by his wife (!?). I was happy though that I knew the answer to the literature questions: in which decade the Lord of the Ring novels were first published (50s) and who the heroine was who married Mr Rochester in a Charlotte Bronte novel (Jayne Eyre).

It also helped that we were about ten people in our team and I wasn’t the only one hiding behind my glass. Funnily enough no-one at our table knew how many fluid ounces there are in a a UK pint (20). There were eight teams taking part and we came number four.

P.S. I was ashamed not to know how many stars there are on the New Zealand flag (4) as I've got NZ relatives and my brother is a flag freak!

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Week5: SwEngPolish Poetry

One part of Swenglish is that I do housework or other random jobs in exchange for food and a roof over my head. Since I started the project five weeks ago I've done everything from collecting firewood on the beach to cleaning a mouldy cupboard, from playing with a child to helping someone sort out an e-mail list. But my absolute favourite job so far was to translate a poem from English to Swedish, and stand in as a reader at a poetry event.

Last night I truly shadowed poet and playwright Maria Jastrzębska when she did a reading at the Pighog Press poetry event at the Red Roaster in Brighton. Maria is originally from Poland and she was supposed to read a poem in Polish at the same time as her partner read the English version, but sadly her partner wasn't very well on the day so I covered for her, reading the English bit. The poem is called At The Border and is published in Anthologia - a Polish English bilingual publication.

In the second half Maria and I did both an English and Swedish version of her poem Why do you laugh? I really enjoyed translating this dark poem and was honoured to be asked. I hope to able to do more interesting jobs like this during my Swenglish year! (But honestly I don't mind doing the washing up for people!)

To find out more about Maria and her latest poetry collection, Everyday Angels, please click here


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Week3: Sea Swimming

Sea swimming is an old tradition in England and the Brighton Swimming Club, founded in 1860, was the first club in the country.

Yvo Luna - the woman I’m staying with this week has been swimming in the sea every day for eight years and she keeps going all through the winter. Mainly she does it because of the mental health benefits it brings, and as a performer it also helps her with stage nerves.

’It’s a humbling experience,’ she says. ’To be part of something that’s bigger than yourself.’

I’ve been cycling down to the beach with Yvo in the mornings and it’s an amazing feeling to get up at seven and be by the sea before everyone else wakes up, but I’m not tempted to go in the water! At the moment the temperature is about five degrees Celsius and the swimmers stay in for ten minutes – it’s not just a quick dip as I’d expected. And Yvo is very hardcore; she doesn’t even have a hot shower after.

‘It can make you feel colder having a quick, hot shower afterwards. If I get in the shower, I don’t want to get out!,' she says, towelling herself dry. After all the sea-swimming is meant to be a Cold Water Cure.

In Sweden it’s a tradition to cut a hole in the ice in winter, have a dip in the lake and then run into a steaming hot sauna. After seeing the sea-swimmers, that’s cheating in my book.

Yvo is putting on a show in the Brighton Fringe Festival called ”Luna’s History of Madness” where she’ll talk more about the Cold Water Cure and other ways to look after mental health. So after the swimming and breakfast I usually follow Yvo to The Apple Store where she's got a work space. At the moment she's working on her press release. Very exciting!

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In Limbo at Hotel Pelirocco

I've only got a couple of hours left of "freedom" before I move in with my first "Swenglish study object" in Brighton.

I was supposed to start the project yesterday, on my actual birthday, but a friend bought me a night in the Hotel Pelirocco so I decided to to stay in the Sputnik room and have cocktails with a few friends in the bar as a proper send off.

In a minute I'll check out, pick up my backpack and catch the bus to the Preston Park area where I'll be staying this week. I'm equally nervous and excited!

3 days to go until the big 30 and the launch of Swenglish

This is the week of goodbyes for me. Saturday I did my last day at Hove Library where I've worked part time for the last couple of years to support my writing.

In the picture is one of my dearest (ex) workmates Barney and I will miss him a lot. However he's one of my "Swenglish victims" and in June I'll spend a week shadowing him as he goes about his every day life, including coming to work with him. (Hopefully I'll have a bit of distance by then!)

Most of the English people I'm going to stay with live in the Brighton area, but I'll treat the project as if I'd left town to go travelling; I won't meet up with my friends, attend any writing group meetings or engage in any of my regular activities. I'll be totally in the hands of the people I'm shadowing and staying with.

I'm also saying goodbye to my housemates and the room I rent in Hove. At the moment I'm going through my clothes, putting them in "keeping", "not keeping" and "maybe keeping" piles. I'm very sad to part with my black buckle bondage trousers, but they are worn so thin you can see through the fabric in places, so it's time for them to go! After all I've had them since I was 21, back in 2003 ...

Only three days to go ... Brighton & Hove TV LTD will follow me as I move in with the first person.

Swedes Can Feel Cold Too

'But how will you get here?' the musician in Hanover asked on the phone. I had no idea what she was talking about, then realising she was referring to the snow that had fallen over the weekend. Down in Hove where I live there the ground was bare.
'I can handle it,' I said. 'I'm used to it, from Sweden.'
'Oh, I'd forgotten you were Swedish.' the musician said, which made me happy. That she thought of me as a poet and writer instead of a Swede. After all we were meeting up to collaborate on a poetry/music piece, not to eat meatballs and drink vodka.

I frequently forget that one of my best friends is South African, and it took me a year to realise another friend was half Filipino ... I'm aware that people have a need for labelling each other and I frequently get referred to as "The Swedish Girl". Most of the time I don't mind, but I don't like it when people assume certain things because you're of a certain nationality. It feels like I don't have the right to be cold because I'm Swedish which doesn't make any sense to me. Yes, I'm used to snow and a winter that last for up to six months, but I still get cold, and I've suffered more from the cold in England because the houses here aren't as well built as in Sweden with insulation and triple glazing.

I made it to Hanover without any problem and laughed at people scraping the last bit of snow off their cars to make snowballs. But I almost got as excited as an Englishman seeing the snow on the hills in the distance ...

Where My Life in England Started

I was nineteen years old and had just graduated from school  in Sweden. All I wanted was to leave my boring hometown (Nässjö) and have an adventure. Signing up for a 3 month English course might not sound like a classical adventure, but it changed my life forever. From the moment I got off the coach at Pool Valley, I knew I wanted to stay in Brighton.

Yesterday I went back to Loxdale Centre in Portslade where I did the previously mentioned English course back in 2001. For the fifth (!) time I was invited to do a talk, titled "Life after Loxdale" where I told the students about my experiences of living and working and writing in England. I also introduced them to performance poetry through my stage persona Lou Ice. Even though most of the students were Swedish, I did the talk in English which is quite nerv-racking as I feel more "judged" than if the audience had been English. (Most Englishmen seem impressed that people can speak English at all as they're not very interested in learning languages themselves, but this is one of the stereotypes I want to explore through my Swenglish project)

I have really fond memories of Loxdale and still remember my time there vividly. Some bizarre things stick out in my mind, like my teacher's voice when she read us an extract of Dorian Gray from our textbook. I thought she had the most perfect English accent and could happily have listened to her reading all day. (In the window you can spot Gill and Sue who were two of my teachers.)

So, ten years later I'm still in Brighton & Hove, but the question is: do I stay or do I go? To quote from The Journal of a Recovering Taiwanoholic:  "After 10 years you either stay or go. Become a lifer or get a life."