Stockholm, Sweden: August 7, 2005

09/28/2020
Travel

Today we went to the gym to workout. Awesome establishment. Outside there is an enormous pool and jacuzzi. Inside is equally awesome. I walked into the women’s changing room (in the back of my mind I knew they perceived sexuality and nudity differently than those in the states) being bombarded with nudity of all age groups brought this cultural difference back into consciousness. I needed to change into my bathing suit top so I embraced it, becoming apart of it; while thinking “screw it, when in Rome do as the Romans do”-bye bye shirt-nude.

The actual workout room was very organized and divided into sections. The organization seemed to have infected the gyms’ users. They carried around cards to document their current status and keep an accurate record of their overall physical progression. In the states we mentally keep track of our status and physical progression by measuring muscle mass and weight loss. I noticed while on the abdominal machine that the Swedes tend to cluster together when doing an exercise - they enjoy the social contact. In the states individuality spawns the innate animalistic instinct of marking one’s territory. Socialism vs. Individualism.

The lower level of the gym contains an enormous pool with 5-6 designated swimming lanes and at least 7-8 lanes worth of aquatic family oriented recreation. Against the far wall towered five diving boards, staggering offset with increasing height and skill. The hot tub is at the base of this monolith of fear. To the left of the hot tub is a single windowed food court. Suddenly an authoritative whistle blew. It became evident that the Swedes are not accustomed to alarming signals that symbolize violation for all of them stopped immediately in almost a shock. There is no immediate need for a strong and domineering law enforcement so when authority is shown it is immediately respected. In the states a whistle does not strike fear into the hearts of the offender. Rather it is a momentary annoyance that focuses attention on the crime but is quickly excused by the audience so that personal tasks can be accomplished. The individual bypasses the law for person gain and respect for authority is diminished because it is but one more hurdle that must be clear to achieve a goal.

Later today we went to Skansen which is located on Djurgarden Island. The surroundings were like something you would see out of a movie; lush, calming, culturally rich, safe, friendly, welcoming. Perfect. Skansen is the name of the zoo where historical farm houses and way of life is preserved. The animals were mostly from South America, Africa, and Australia. Many of these animals were an unexpected sight (brown bear, wolverine, lemurs, lynx, wolf). Aside from the breathtaking views, clean air, and walks of exploration, my favorite part was going into the lemur cage. The lemurs freely scampered, jumped, climbed, played, and basked in the sun all around me. It was truly unique; they would sit there straddling the tree limbs and looked as if they were meditating while absorbing the sun’s warmth. I have never seen this behavior before; plus they were not afraid of humans intruding on their turf. I took a lot of pictures of these passive meditating fur-balls, not only because it is a once in a life time chance to be so close to these creatures, but also because they remind me of the Lemur King in Madagascar who has an Indian accent and sings, “I like to move it move it, you like to move it move it...” The Indian accent, the song, and the whole character reminds me of my high school friend Rohan. Exotic animals decorated the premises ranging from reptiles and amphibians to wolves, bears, a lynx, moose, arachnids, and I got pictures of them all, permitting they were in their cages. The amazing thing is even though a majority of the pictures were taken through glass, you would never be able to tell the difference. The pictures are THAT good. Absorbing the resonating and exquisite beauty of this sanctuary was truly an experience not taken for granted. It was when I was over looking the river to Djurgarden’s motherland (Stockholm) that I spiritually felt connected. For the first time in a decade, a historic and thriving cultural environment where all indigenous residents survived. Sure styles and way of living adaptations were made, but quality, morality, and wholesomeness defined this culture-this moment.