Also written on that train, on Wednesday ten days ago: Doing fieldwork is tough, especially under the circumstances when Elli and I did ours, but having gotten through it somewhat successfully can open certain very attractive doors. This is what the rest of the sessions were about: What can we do now? Do traineeships at NGOs,Continue reading “meeting the future development professionals”
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remembering fieldwork
Written in a train on Wednesday, 10 days ago: I have spent the last couple of days in Härnösand at an MFS reunion. MFS (Minor Field Study) is the grant that Elli and I received from Sida (the Swedish international development cooperation agency) to do our fieldwork in Burkina Faso. It is a grant givenContinue reading “remembering fieldwork”
journeying
Sunday, two weeks ago: I’m on a train between Stockholm and Härnösand. And I am reminded: It is possible that this is the time of year when Sweden is at its most beautiful. The aspen and birch bright yellow, the spruce and pine a heavy contrast. The grass around the small lakes and marshes hasContinue reading “journeying”
the diary of a bicyclist
Waking up to a world covered in crystals and mist. The air first turning my lungs into frost, before my heart has had the chance to get properly started. And then going home under a sky that turns from orange to purple, through the smells of brackish sea, yellow leaves and decaying apples under oldContinue reading “the diary of a bicyclist”
autumn smells
Walking on a Saturday afternoon, thinking: Maybe I like autumn the best, after all. For the colors. And the smells. The inevitable, and therefore safe, journey toward decay.
where I come from
I come from a land of forests and lakes. Small fields and small conglomerates of civilization like satellites among all the green and the blue. It’s never as obvious, as when I return home, flying in over the Mälardalen landscape. The odd grove of deciduous trees have started getting yellow and red edges, on theContinue reading “where I come from”
readings on the beach
Our last afternoon in Lisbon, dad and I took the train out to the beach, to spend some time by the Atlantic with sand between our toes. It was really nice, lying there in the still summer-hot sun, reading, and taking short swims in the chilly Atlantic waves. A last pinch of summer, before weContinue reading “readings on the beach”
parallell life purposes
In another life, I would have been a bohemian poet-photographer in Lisbon.
Mr. P in Lisbon
Riding in one of Lisbon’s signature yellow trams. Admiring the amazing collection of tile art at the National Tile Museum together with me. Enjoying a cold drink after a long day of sightseeing at the hotel’s rooftop terrace. Joining the crowds at the monastery Mosteiro dos Jerónimos, a UNESCO world heritage site.
my love affair with tile design
The most striking thing with Lisbon, at least for me, was that almost every other building had walls covered in beautiful, painted tiles. They were everywhere, many with Moorish geometric patterns. I fell in love, and reached the peak of my infatuation at the National Tile Museum. As with the Arab-inspired hat and collar cross-stitchesContinue reading “my love affair with tile design”