Finally some new posts! Swedish things that are not Swedish at all!

Fake Swedes

Even the most fervent Sweden-fans have to admit that there are some things wrong with the blissful image we foreigners have of magnificent Sweden. And I am not talking about the health care system, although I am certain a lot of readers from the US will immediately point this out as the proverbial hole in the dyke (I am not sure if that saying works in English, as you may have guessed from the use of the word dyke, it is a Dutch thing…).

There are more urgent matters, however, in terms of falsified images of Sweden. Here I present a few of the most incorrect and faulty thoughts that float around. If I have forgotten some blatantly obvious failings, please do let me know, and I will gladly complete this list in a coming post!

Assumption 1: Ikea is Swedish

Not so, remarkably. True, Ikea’s origins are solidly Swedish. However, it is nowadays in the hands of the Dutch and like many other multinationals its corporate structure is a complete chaotic mess for those not well-versed in such things – a group of ignorant people whose ranks I count myself member of. In a nutshell, though, most of the Ikea shops and factories are run by the Dutch INGKA Holding, which is owned by the INGKA Foundation. This Foundation was found by the founding father of Ikea, Ingvar Kamprad – probably for tax-exemption purposes. The foundation is still solidly chaired by Kamprad, and also includes his wife. Nevertheless, it is a Dutch Foundation. Additionally, the trademark and franchising part of Ikea is held by a different – also Dutch – company called Inter IKEA Systems.

Still there? I told you it was a mess! It is owned by Inter IKEA Holding, which is registered in Luxembourg – so it is not Dutch – which in turn belongs to a similarly named Holding based in the Netherlands Antilles – which makes it Dutch again. Hold on, though, we are not there yet! There is also a company in Liechtenstein that is responsible for the 2009 liquidation of the Antilles-Holding, and this is called Interogo Foundation. It is also controlled by the Kamprad family. Moreover, in Australia there are two different companies operating IKEA. I will spare you, just remember, it’s a big mess, and it’s NOT Swedish!

Assumption 2: Skåne is Swedish

Opinions are certainly divided about this one. It belongs very much to Sweden, according to the official laws and statutes, written down by very smart people with long beards, about a few hundred years ago, (in three treaties, to be exact, in 1660, 1679 and 1700 – communication was slow those days!). The people living there weren’t all too happy about it, and frankly I am sure that the people living elsewhere couldn’t give a straw for it. But people with long beards, big bellies and lots of jewelry did mind, and so they drew up papers that stated Skåne was Swedish.

The problem was at that time that nearly all of the inhabitants there spoke Danish – albeit undoubtedly in a weird kind of way in the minds of true Danes. Governmental efforts were tremendous, and in the end, most Skånians approached in their lingo a kind of Swedish, although their dialect is still contested as a borderline case between Swedish and Danish. They call this Skånkt. For instance: kjella in Skånskt means kattungar in Swedish, which in turn means kittens in English.

Most Stockholmians claim to not understand a word a Skånian says. This may, however, not be entirely the blame of the Skånian dialect, since Stockholmians sometimes suffer from selective bursts of hearing impairment.  

Assumption 3: Cheese slicer

NO it is NOT!

Photo from: http://www.svedinrehab.se/svedin_ting/Bilder/elc_osthyvel.jpg

Many a Swede maintains that the slicer – or grater, if you must - of cheese is a brilliant invention from Sweden. Many Dutch people contend it is a Dutch invention, equally brilliant because it is from Holland. Both are wrong, though. It is, in fact, the brilliant contraption developed by Thor Bjørklund, a Norwegian who invented this marvellous piece of equipment in 1925 – and yes, that is AFTER Sweden split from Norway!

You can still buy the ‘real’ thing, a Bjørklund slicer, produced by their firm Thor Bjørklund & Sønner AS. You can, however, also buy a cheap one from the Dutch-held Ikea. Or one of the marvellously decorated and highly overpriced creations found in any Dutch or Swedish tourist shop! Ugliness guaranteed, sharpness not so much. However, this does not matter if you are in Sweden, because the cheese isn’t work the grating anyway…

Assumption 4: Moose-crossing warning signs are put there to take home

Many tourists and even locals seem to think that these signs, put there by the ever so concerned Swedish government, are there for the taking. They in fact serve their purpose best when kept in place, although many people seem to have difficulty with grasping this.

I could not find any exact data on the actual sign-taking, but it must be severe, since many regional authorities complain loudly about it. So please, people, if you read this,… think twice before taking these signs. The government is in a terrible predicament about it, and they are growing desperate. For certain, world war and famine are things to contemplate also, but this sign taking, it must be stopped!

That said, I am sure that I have omitted many a triviality or peculiarity that Swedes illegitimate claim to be theirs and theirs alone. If one pops up in your mind, let me know, I will gladly extend this list. Reaching a top 10 is ever a good goal to strive for, me thinks, so let me know and I shall write! 

Note, by the way, that kanelbullar, as far as I have been able to find out, ARE indeed very Swedish... 

Leaking children, advanced queuing and weather complaints

It has been a while since my last lamentation on life here in Sweden, and some of the more optimist readers may have started interpret this as a sign that there are no more faults to this place. As a seasoned veteran pessimist, however, I am glad to announce that Swedish culture and life is far from depleted when it comes to producing intercultural difficulties. The absence of reports on such peculiarities is solely my own incapability to swiftly respond to them in prose worthy of Internet blogging.

To compensate for this terrible inadequacy, this post treats not one, but three peculiarities of Sweden. I will start with a mild entree  some more language issues. The main dish will consist of something Swedes can teach the rest of the world (queuing), and for dessert I finish off with something that is actually familiar coming from the Netherlands: weather complaints.

Language issues: Leaking children

First things first: leaking kids. There are all kinds of interesting traffic signs in Sweden, most of which roughly equal those in other countries. There is one mild peculiarity there at that Swedish signs are in the colors of the national Swedish flag, which is, to say the least, pretentious… Anyway, such nationalism can be forgiven, since the colors yellow and blue actually make the signs more visible in snow, compared to white ones…Moreover, signs here, just as elsewhere in the world, are susceptible to multiple interpretations at all times, so as to never make sense in any situation, and utterly confuse an already confused bunch of car-drivers and other traffic users. But that is besides the point, the point here being: one sign in particular that kept me halting and thinking for more than once: it is a ‘watch out-sign’ (for all those illiterate in the way of traffic-signs, a triangular sign with a red brim), which said ‘lekande barn’.

Now, my usual approach to Swedish words that I do not know, is to look for Dutch equivalents and see if that makes sense. Usually, this works. I can read the Metro like this – although errors can occur; for example thinking that ‘dor’ means door was my latest error, ‘dorrrrrr’  means door, and dor means dead, which is, I hardly need ask, some difference if an article deals with a ‘mighty dor(r) .  Anyway, following my ‘dutch-equals-Swedish’ approach, I translated ‘lekande’ into leaking or ‘lekkende’ in Dutch.

Made perfect sense…

Leaking children, three of them, BE AWARE, they might leak on your carseats!

Something that leaks can do so on the road, thus providing for slippery situations, right? Then barn, which is an English word, synonymous to shed. So leaking sheds?

That made no sense, there were no sheds in the vicinity of the sign. Are these malicious sheds, that hide behind trees and when we least expect it, jump onto the streets and leak all over the place?

Luckily, I was already aware of the word barn, so I knew that sheds had nothing to do with it, and that all the leaking was on the account of the less-grown-up individuals of society. Still, I wondered, how could leaking kids pose danger to cars? I know that especially young children tend to leak, but we have invented diapers for that, right? Their leaking should be well within the limits of absorption of most diapers, so the danger to the traffic in the vicinity did not strike me as particularly high…

I am still puzzled by this mystery, either Swedish kids leak more vigorously than kids elsewhere, or traffic here is particularly sensitive to the least bit of disturbance…

But on to the next issue of abnormalism!

The art of Queuing

Then there is the Swedish discipline of queuing. At first it seems easy, Swedes queue for everything, and so you do as they do. However, there is a trick to it, a Swede told me. Take buss-queues. You cannot stand in the buss-shelter, if there are other people. They were first, so there is no sneaking in front  of them! The buss-shelter is where the bus will stop, so the shelter goes first. This even seems to count when the weather is crappy, UNLESS there is a complete downpour, then you are allowed, with the proper amount of excuses, staring to the floor and muttering about the rain, to all cramp together in the one shelter.

But then the buss comes. Now, as you are standing outside of the shelter this effectively means waiting for the next buss…

But NOT if you are a master in the arts of queuing (as all Swedes are). My expert Swede taught me that this is actually the right time to inauspiciously shuffle forward step by step, toe by toe, looking behind you ‘as if pushed’ and spread excuses in front of you because ‘you’re being pushed’, all the while going forward step by step, until you are actually standing in front of those still sheltering in the buss-shelter. Note that this shuffle-process should take place well in advance of the buss stopping, so good attention should be paid to when the buss appears on the horizon!

Now you are first in the same queue that you began last in, without ‘offending’ any queue-rules (after all, you were pushed!). It is amazing, no one will be pissed off, and you will still get to go on the bus. How you survive that bus-trip, however, cramped in there like a sardine in a can, is a completely different story altogether (one that I will undoubtedly give a blog-entry once, soon)…

Final lament: meta-complaining (complain about complaints about the weather)

Finally, then, there are weather complaints. I am not surprised to realize that Swedes, like Dutch people, complain A LOT about the weather. I feel perfectly well at ease in replicating the same socially acceptable (even mandatory) behavior in the Netherlands; ‘weather complaints’ being one of those national sports of Dutch people. It is one of the three things you are allowed to talk about when you are conversing with a complete stranger: 1) the crappy weather (either current or past few weeks/months/season), 2) the crappy condition of the public transport or traffic jams (this, Swedish readers, must also sound somewhat familiar, no?) and 3) annoyance about the (lack of) change/decisions made by the current government.

In my opinion, though, Swedes have nothing to complain about at all, when it concerns the weather. True, November was crappy, with lots of rain, wind and well, basically ghastly weather conditions. But then came snow, and now all is well! For comparison, imagine the state of November, extended all the way through winter up to… May… (got that mental image?), then you know what Dutch people are going through every winter. Keep that in mind next time you complain about the beautifully white and clean look of the white tapestry that is currently covering the lovely country of Sweden! It washes away all the November-filth, leaving only a white piece of cloth, pure, clear, light (and especially the light-reflection is amazing!).

What is, however, a valid complaint is the public transport! Same as in Holland, trains appear to not be snow-proof here. The well-known excuse from the Dutch public transports (“But… we did not expect snow to fall! Not in December!!!!”) seems to apply equally here in Stockholm. We were not prepared for snow. No, of course you weren´t. Because… snow, that is something completely alien to Sweden, right? Who ever thought that snow would fall here, my god, is global climate change fucking up the entire world?!

Ah, so, my dear readers, there is fortunately still plenty to complain about, here. But I want to end with some positive notes, to set a nice December-tone! After all, it is the celebration month, and November (internationally acknowledged to be the worst month of the year!) is over!

• Fun on the road: traffic signs can bring much delight and interpretations on cultural practices and differences in child-education and sanitation.
• Integration via queuing is vital, and not impossible, as long as you learn it from a proper Swede. Inter-cultural guide books will not help you here!
• Snow = JJ

And now for something completely different...

Feedback loops in social-ecological systems, illustrated by Loopy (a fairly positive optimistic chap who likes to strengthen those around him by giving feed back to them) and Loop (quite a negative pessimistic bloke who wants to get an equal share of feed back after giving it away). 

It makes sense, really... 

Negative feedback loops keep things in balance, whereas positive feedback loops tend to escalate. Therefore I conclude that, based on this logical deduction: 

Optimism is a bad thing

How shabby are you?

Normally, you wouldn’t ask that to another person, right? Even if you are thinking it, you cannot say someone is shabby, and it is not polite to ask about their shabbiness either. But suppose that someone did walk up to you and asked exactly that!?

That actually happened to me, here in Stockholm, not too long ago. I was minding my own business and probably doing something particularly useful for society when I was asked by a Swede how ‘gammal’ I was. Now, being a Dutchee, I at once understood what the Swede meant! We have this word in Dutch too:  ‘gammel‘(if you’re a Swede, pronounce the ‘g’ as in ‘stadion’ (not the ‘sj’ version), if you’re not a Swede nor a Dutch person, please don’t try to pronounce it, you will end up with a sore throat).

Gammel, all Dutch people know, means shabby. Imagine an old and deteriorated bridge that you wouldn’t cross even if Bill Gates’ fortune was open for grabs at the end of it. The kind of bridge that only Indiana-Jones look-a-likes would even consider crossing. Such a stale construction would qualify as ‘gammel’ in Dutch. We’d say it is a ‘gammele brug’ or gammal bro in Swedish.

So you can imagine the surprise, if not agitation, I felt when being asked about how shabby I was. I mean, I might not dress to the latest fashions and all, but that doesn’t mean you can just call me moldy, shabby or a complete wreck (the last word – wreck - does apply to me right after waking up in the morning before having  my coffee, but that is a different matter altogether. You shouldn’t talk to me at all on such occasions, let alone ask questions…) ! I too have a sense of dignity, pride and being called a ramshackle does damage it…

Gammal, of course, means something else in Swedish and the Swede in question was merely asking a polite question. Swedish gammal means ‘old’, and if a Swede ask how ‘gammal’ you are, well… it’s quite obvious, isn’t it? Apart from the fact that you ought not ask a lady about her age, there was nothing wrong with the question. The word originates from the Old Norse term ‘gamall’, which can be traced all the way back to Proto-Germanic ancient (‘gammel’) people who called both old and weak things ‘gamalaz’. The origin seems to account for both meanings, but still, the difference in current languages can be quite … confusing.

Take, for once, Stockholm’s Gamla Stan. Now, I wouldn’t be comfortable at all living in a shabby old wrecked town-centre. On the other hand, living in the ‘old part of the city’ doesn’t seem to be too bad, provided that certain renovations have taken place. Another example: I wouldhesitate tocross a gammale bro (bridge).

However, I learnt to respond to such gammal-related issues by murmuring something about my age and to just cross gammal bridges, despite their initial promise of being shabby and ramshackle. If someone enquires after my Swedish shabbiness, I politely state ’23, and how shabby are you?’

Etymological topography of Geographic Sweden

OK, it is time for a geography lesson, or rather more specifically, Topography and even more precisely, etymology of topography. In more humane words – the meaning and origin of place-names.

Maybe you’re thinking along these lines right now: “ Gee-sh, geography, topography, what the hell, don’t I have anything better to blog about?”.

Please, stop that line of thoughts and never you worry, I won’t make this tedious and boring, as you are probably remembering classes were back in ‘the ol’ days’. No, in fact, topography can be – is – great fun if you know what to know about it! So let’s start with that…

Here’s a map of Sweden Scandinavia: Sweden, Norway, Finland, Iceland and Denmark included – courtesy for this map goes to Google Earth. Oh, and there is Ireland and part of England in the map as well, but never mind those guys, they’re not important!

 Map of Scandinavia

I have often heard people complain that they can’t remember the difference between Norway and Sweden (ouch, that will hurt the ego of several Swedes), but there is actually a quite easy way of remembering, if you know something about the etymological topography.

Norway, according to etymologists*, comes from ‘the way North’ or the Northward route. It’s quite reasonable when you think about it, really. ‘Nor’ = north, but then pronounced someone in a rush, and ‘way’, well… it speaks for itself, doesn’t it? So, Norway is the way to the North. If you look at the map, it is clear that Norway is the longest and smallest of the countries present, namely North of Denmark and Germany, and bordering the Atlantic ocean. Sweden, on the other hand, is snuggling right next to Norway, and borders the Baltic Sea (and some of Finland).

So what about Sweden? Well, for starters let’s use the term that Swedes use for themselves: Sverige. It’s a mixture of two words, basically: Svea and Rike - or if you like some more exclusive names, try Sweoland or Sweorice (Old English) or Sviariki (Old Norse). ‘Rike’ means something like empire, realm or kingdom. Remember history class about the German Third Reich? That’s the same thing, Rike and Reich, a big-ass empire ruled by a monarch.

Map of Sweden with Svealand highlighted

For the ‘Svea’ part we have to delve deeper, though. Back in the days when Sweden was invented, the Swedes were not so well distributed across what we now call Sweden. In fact, the ‘Swedes’ of that time actually only lived in Svealand  (see dark-green section in the image below). This is where most of Swedish history happened. Most of the area south of Svealand belonged to Denmark – some Southerners still think this is true or desirable – and most of the area north of Svealand was… well… empty, except for a few nomadic Saami.

So Svealand. Still leaves us with an unaccounted ‘svea’. But for people back in those days ‘originality’ was not such an issue as it is today, they were practical people instead. They were a people who called themselves ‘svea’ – or Suiones – and their land they called ‘svea-land’, land of the Svea.

But we’re not there yet: Svea in itself also means something. We don’t know exactly how the old Swedes went about figuring out their own people’s name, but we do know that the name has resemblance to the Proto-Indo-European word ‘swih’. That roughly meant ‘one’s own’, so ‘us’.  

I am glad that we've got that sorted out. Let’s briefly zoom in on Stockholm – after all, that’s what this blog is about. In a previous post I've already explained that ‘Stock’ probably means either ‘a log’ (Swedish for log is stock) or a fortress (German word for fortifications), and that ‘holm’ means islet.

Within Stockholms lan lies an area called ‘Enskede’. Dutch people might find this funny, because we also have a city called ‘Enschede’ – and yes, the letter-combination ‘sch’ is pronounced in that rough choking sound only native Dutch people seem to be able to make. Enskede was made up somewhere in the 1900, and it is difficult to find out the exact etymology of the word, but the Dutch Enschede used to mean ‘near the border’ or ‘near the town hall’. It is short of the full sentence ‘An die Schede’, which means ‘on the barrier/border’.

Next up is Malmö – I am randomly picking out names so please don’t try to find logic in this summation – Malmö is located very near to Kobnhamn (Copenhaven, Denmark) and the third-largest city of Sweden. The original name for Malmö was much cooler, though, as it used to be called ‘Malmhaug’, in proper English gravel pile or ore hill. But for some reason – being in a hurry for instance – has shortened Malmhaug into Malmö. Yet, for people who don’t have the ö solidly located on their PC key-boards, it takes far more time to write Malmö than it does to type Malmhaug, so I opt for a return to the older name.

So that was the third-largest city, what about Gothenburg, the second-largest? Swedes call this place Göteborg, which they pronounce somewhat like this: ‘jjjeuttteborjje’. It was the capital city of the Geats – Götar, Geatas, Gauts, or whatever flavor of spelling you prefer in Swedish – which explains its name completely: ‘Göteborg’ is the ‘burrough/castle of the Geats’

Then there are the river islands that actually don’t have any rivers on them. I am referring to Åland, which is located in the Baltic sea right between Finland and Sweden. Germans used to call it Ahvaland, which means land of water – and this makes much sense given the fact that the place is surrounded by water – but later on the word was adopted and adapted by Swedes into Åland, which means river land (Ån = river, and land = land). It makes no sense, but hey, that’s language for you!

By now, you might have gotten the hang of this, and in order to refrain losing readers due to the length of this epistle, I will cut things short (even though many place-names still require explication), and spare you more details… for now!

But just before ending, let me quickly highlight that there are some nations that in the past few centuries, have shown remarkably little creativity and enormously audacious ‘borrowing’ behavior when it comes to place-names. To (place)name a few:

• Stockholm is also a place in Canada, Saskatchewan, township in Minnesota, ‘unincorporated town’ in New Jersey, a town in Maine, New York, South Dakota, Winsconsin, and two small villages in Sweden itself, located in Blekinge and Skane county. Apparently the name had a nice ring to it, or nameplates were cheaper to make by the dozen. All these locations – including the Swedish ones – are similar when it comes to linguistics; everyone speaks fairly decent English although with a horrific American accent.

  

  Swedish Stockholm town sign

  • Other occasions of such stealing also occur, yet are covered up by ‘adding’ something to the new place name. More specifically, by adding ‘new’ to the place name. Think about New York, New Jersey, New Orleans (any other ‘new’ – place we have). Not to say that using a name twice is a bad thing per se – although it is a missed opportunity for creativity – simply adding ‘new’ to it makes the stealing even worse in my eyes. Not only are you stealing it, but you’re openly acknowledging your theft and emphasizing the hope that this new place will be better, or at least ‘more new’. What is next, Newest-York? Later-Jersey? Post-Orleans?

With that said, I end the geography class for today and hope you will have learned a valuable lesson – I am not going to think one up for you, you just figure out for yourself what the purpose of reading this all really was!

*etymologists are scholars who dedicated at least 4 years of their life to being trained in the art of arguing and squabbling amongst each other concerning the meaning and origin of names and words. Typical for their work is a high heterogeneity and lack of consensus, marking etymology as a very creative and flexible research area. It is also very difficult to earn a living in this field of expertise, unless you remain in an academic setting, grow a long beard and become a professor – the beard is a necessity for that! 

Ten things I like about Sweden!!… So far…

By now some of the more familiar readers of this blog might have become a bit bored with my complaining about Swedish language and culture. Although I would argue in my own defense that all my complaints are completely warranted and fully supported by others, I do not want to be a nag all the time! So, in order to compensate for my previous pessimistic posts, I will now list all the good things about Sweden in one complete list*.

Ten things I like about Sweden:

1.) Although quite incomprehensible when spoken, Swedish does have a nice melodic swing to it, and is uttered in voices that make me think of the quacking of Donald Duck, which is funny!

2.) Come to think of it, Swedes call Donald Duck ‘Kalle Anke”, which is way more original than what other countries did: just adopting the word Donald Duck!

3.) It has the biggest ever IKEA-shops

3.5) Moreover, one of these shops is circular - yet another sign of Swedish originality.

kanelbullar according to IKEA

4.) Expressing Sweden's  best in a single word: Kanelbullar - the world’s best dog-turd-shaped bread rolls with cinnamon flavour. One can also get them vanilla-flavoured, but why bother for improvement if you already have perfection?

5.) Here’s another one: Fika - coffee and… kanelbullar - though you are allowed to eat something else, I have been told, as long as it is sweet and goes with the coffee. 

Other great Swedish inventions include:

6.) Standing in line: granted, people in other countries also try to copy this behaviour every once in a while, but none are so good as Native Swedes at standing orderly in lines and patiently wait their turn. One might begin to think that Swedes own a separate gene of some sort that both compels them - and equips them with the patience - to form and maintain lines...

7.) Knäckebröd: aka dry flat 'crisp'-bread that does not dry out – it’s already dry  – and produces a ‘knacking’ sound when chewed. (Side-note: Finns have a patent on a similar invention, and so do the Norwegians, but that – according to a very trustworthy Swedish source who desires to remain anonymous – those other ‘Knäckebröd’ are all fakes).**

8.) Messmor: like Marmite, you either absolutely despise and detest it, or love and idolize it. What it is: some sort of sandwich spread that is both salty and sweet, and is made of whey! I personally think it is awesome and would marry it if such a thing was not prohibited by law!

9.) Did I mention IKEA?

10.) I’m certain I didn’t mention Swedes’ remarkable capacity to idolize and compliment a foreigner’s Swedish and in the same second switch the conversation back to English in order not to further embarrass said foreigner with his horrific pronunciation and complete incomprehensibility (yes, I do speak from experience...) Add to that Swedes' apparent natural fluency in English (I have been told that Swedes are born with proficiency in English...), and this mixes up to a very demotivating excellence of Swedes in comparison to all others.

However, being a natural-born pessimist, I can’t resist the temptation to also list some annoying characteristics of Swedes :

• They stand in lines everywhere: I mean, sometimes this is just plain neurotic! We are SUPPOSED to fight over right to gain entrance to a Metro-train during rush hours, that is the purpose of it all!
• They stand in line all the time: Swedes que up on every possible - and impossible - occasion!
•  Everything is bloody expensive. My preference for Knäckebröd partly arises from the fact that I am unable to buy proper food!
• There are IKEA's everywhere you go...
• Although singing and sounding duck-like, the Swedish language remains incomprehensible when spoken by a true Swede

I guess I could go on and on with this list, but that would undermine my ideas for future posts, so I won't continue now. More frustrations - and also wonders - of Sweden from the eyes of a foreigner will soon follow!

* 'Complete list' might be a slight exaggeration, though I did strive to be all-encompassing. Additions are more than welcome, as always!

** More on Knäckebröd: Swedes have been making and baking this stuff ever since 500 AD (no, not 500 AD sharp, that's an estimation, please...). But the stuff we would actually recognize as Knäckebröd nowadays was only 'invented' around 500 years ago (that'd be in the year 1500 APPROXIMATELY, yes...).

Marrying or poisoning, that is the question

You know the feeling that you love someone so much that you’d want to kill them?

No? Well, to be honest, me neither, and I reckon (hope) few people do! But why, then, do Swedes use the same word for poison as for marriage?

Don’t be surprised, though, that in this blog post I will not just bash the Swedish language. Given the previous posts I figured that enough (bad) had been said just about the Swedish lingo, and no rotten dues were given to the ‘peculiarities’ of other languages. Dutch being one of them, but let’s not spare the French in the process! I feel that I am not a discriminating person, and therefore intend to complain equally about any language I know enough about, so…

So without further ado, this article will deal with:

… marrying and using poison in Sweden, trying the same in French but ending up with fish instead, and finally moving onwards to Dutch giving, poisoning and throwing up by surrendering. If you are not following this line of thought, be not worried, I cannot follow it either. Which is why I write this post, to share with you my confusion about the words these separate languages use for these very different things altogether (although I do admit that both fish and marriage can be seen as some sort of slow poison, and certainly could be related to throwing up…)

Svenska gifterna

OK, as the title suggests, let us start with Swedish first. After all, it was a good Swedish friend who suggested that these words may also be confusing (in addition to the morfar and farmor complexities discussed earlier in this post).

The words I am referring to are:

• Gift
• And gift

Yes, as the more astute reader will have noticed, both are precisely the same. Yet, if you are happily married and want to remain so, I highly suggest not to confuse the two with one another. Here is why: one of them (I won’t tell you which) means ‘poison’ whereas the other means ‘married’. For the time being, let’s keep it at this, shall we?

Dutch giving resembles throwing up?

In Dutch we have a word for giving that goes thus: ‘geven’. You of course should pronounce that ‘g’ as if there is some terrible pointy object in your throat – which I have observed does give non-native Dutch speakers the urge to throw up, yes. But that is besides the point, the point being, if you give something in Dutch, then the object that you are giving is called ‘gift’. Quite similar to English, whom also call it gift – but not comparable to the poison Swedes can give you, please keep that in mind. If an Englishman or a Dutch person gives you a gift, you might consider accepting it, but if a Swede – one of those Swedes that you are not married to, that is – gives you gift, better not accept it!

Is it that easy? No, there is a trick, of course. Because Dutch people also use the word ‘gif’ (without the ‘t’ for poison. Confusing, no?

Even worse still, is the confusion around the word ‘geven’ (giving in English). We Dutch people can give – although stereotypes might be applicable here, and we DO have issues with giving too much, granted – but Dutch people can also ‘forgive’ someone, by saying ‘vergeven’.

Literally, ‘ver-geven’ means ‘giving from far away’, but the average Dutch person who uses the word actually means he/she forgives you – possibly for an Englishman not having any proper coffee to serve. But ‘vergeven’ ALSO means ‘to poison’. And if you add an ‘o’ in front of these words, you get ‘over-geven’ which can mean either ‘throw up’ or ‘surrender’. I guess that as a field-marshal during a battlefield, you’d rather have your enemy to ‘just’ surrender, and not throw up all over you… What!? Let’s forget about this latter word ‘overgeven’ for now, and focus instead on the other words…

Brief summary:

• Swedish
  • Gift – married
  • Gift – poison
• Dutch
  • Gift – a given thing
  • Geven – giving
  • Vergeven – forgiving
  • Vergeven – poisoning
• And why not add English to the mix
  • Gift – a given thing (voluntarily!)
  • Gift – a talent or natural ability (which could possibly relate to marriage to Swedes?)

Who came up with this nonsense?

I’d love to say that it was the French, but I am afraid that in this case, it was the – ancient – Germans who did it. Or rather, ‘Proto’ Germans: the guys whose grandchildren were to become Germans, Dutch, English, Swedes et cetera. Our mormormormors and farfarfarfars, sort of…

What about them? Well, they started this thing, by using the term ‘giftiz’, which is a derivative from gebana and some addition behind it to make it sound cool (tiz).  Gebana, in turn, can mean ‘to take, give or move’. Yes, well, that pretty much covers everything, right?

Still, the English giving, the Dutch geven, German geben, Icelandic gefa, Norwegian gi and gjeva, and Swedish giva and ge all derive from this single word.

What’s the connection to marriage, then?

Well, old English – and doubtless other old folks too – used the term gifta/giftu for the ‘payment for a wife’ or if you will, the ‘wedding payment’. In those days, men had to pay a wedding gift to the bride’s parents and – depending on the particular culture but in most of Scandinavia – they had to give their wife-to-be a fair amount of money as well. This money then was used for the ‘new marriage’ so in effect the gift was for both of them, but when the pair would de-couple, then this gift was for the woman, and not the man. But let’s not get into that too deeply, because people those days were complicated – it is not that they had anything else to do.

For now it is important that the link between Swedish ‘gift’ (being married) and the old English word ‘gift’ as a wedding price makes complete sense. If the Old Englishman had paid his gift (price), than the Swedish lady would be gift (married) to him. It’s all so easy!

But… aren’t we forgetting about the poison!?

The answer to that is quite simple, actually. If you want to poison someone, you’ll have to ‘give’ the poison to him. Suppose your arch enemy – for the ease of this argument let’s assume he’s Dutch – approaches you with a nice cold refreshing drink and offers it to you, saying ‘you are ‘vergeven’. Well, I wouldn’t be too keen on accepting that drink then! He is either ‘forgiving’ you, or he is ‘giving’ you poison.

A deeper explanation to this can be found in High German – around the Middle ages those guys who lived in what is now Germany talked this gibberish. Those guys used the term ‘gift’ (something given) for the doses of a medicine given by kvacksalvare (Swedish for quacks). Back in those days doctors were highly distinguished but quacks they remained, and the consequence of most of their ‘medicines’ was direct or indirect poisoning! Gradually as science progressed, the link between this ‘gift’ and poison became quite clear, and now it all makes sense, right?

So… how about the French?

Yes, I know that’s why we are ALL reading this, because I promised a good French-bashing. Actually, there is little connection between the prior-discussed confusion and the French language. French are perfectly capable of making their own mess, and don’t need any Proto-German to do it for them, so this section is really a completely different matter all together. But let’s connect it anyway!

We’ve just established that gift can be either being married or poison or some sort of natural-borne talent, right? So what is the term for poison in French?

Never trust a French person when he talks about fish

Yes, indeed, it is poison. Whereas the English used to be very creative in stealing words from the Proto-Germans, somewhere during the Middle ages they switched tactics to stealing words from the French instead. This might be one of the reasons why English is the language with most words, they basically stole all of them!

Anyway, English theft aside, French poison is poison (and equally poisoning are their cheeses, but let’s not go there). However, when in France, don’t be startled when a waiter asks you if you want to have poison for diner. He’s probably asking you if you want fish, the French word for fish being ‘poisson’. That is poison with an extra ‘s’.

Poison (the stuff you DO NOT) want, is derived from the Latin potio, meaning ‘a drink’. The French (and second-hand English) word ‘potion’ has the same roots, but a completely different meaning nowadays. I would not mind drinking a  potion against some illness, but I would rather omit drinking a poison that is related to the same illness!

Poisson (the squiggly slimy thing in the water or on your plate at a French fish-restaurant) comes from – again – Latin, from the word ‘pisces’, from where the English may possibly also obtained their word ‘fish’.

Recommendations:

Depending on the purpose of your discussion, you might want to think about the following:

• In France, fish are poison
• In Sweden, you can either be married or be given a poison by someone who gives you the gift-word
• In the Netherlands, you want to get gifts, but not gif. If someone ‘vergeef’ you, better think twice before drinking from their proposed cup
• In England, please rebuke them for their language-theft and lack of creativity whatsoever!

Social learning: another concept-illuminating visualization (aka 'doodle')

Due to the tremendous success of my previous post (a smashing response rate of 1 reply) I have decided to add another doodle from a while ago, about social learning and other interesting theories.

I wrote some deep things about this in a reflection paper for a course on the exact same topic during my study at the Wageningen University ( an awesome university, if I might add!). I'm basically repeating those deep contemplations here, in a somewhat more condensed version.

Social learning* is: “a collaborative, emergent learning process that hinges on the simultaneous cultivation of ‘difference’ and social cohesion in order to create joint ownership, unleash creativity and the kind of dynamic and energy needed to break with existing patterns, routines or systems”


But first, the doodle, then the boring theory behind it. 


Doodle

Explanatory notes

Important terms and words for Social Learning are in italics and underlined

Social learning is an expedition, a quest

The image shows how Sole (after Social learner) embarks on an expedition - a ‘quest’- for knowledge and insights. With the help of several other stakeholders (ribbons on her arm), Sole tackles a wicked problem (the evil clouds), in order to come to valuable insights, in the castle up the hill.

Some ‘isolated aspects’ of the image, which are not part of ‘social learning’ as a broader framework, but are illustrated nonetheless: 

• Sole’s belt – called ‘help-belt F1’ stands for facilitation and its many diverse tools. Facilitation can help hold a team of social learners together, or in Sole’s case, the belt helps hold her pants together. Moreover, facilitators can carry with them many tools to facilitate social learning, as this belt carries many tools that help Sole in her quest. The term F1 is two-fold: 1) it refers to the F1-button on a computer’s dashboard, the general button for when you want the help-function of a program to kick in and assist you. (one of the buttons on my dashboard that shows wear-and-tear signs), and 2) F1 stands for Formula one, which I hardly need explain is a race of some speedy vehicles driven by maniacs. This connotation is relevant for the help-belt, because facilitation can often speed up the processes within a team.
• The little pick nick basket between Sole’s feet gives her provision, because her quest, a social learning process can take a long time and a lot of energy. But she is not just bringing any random foodstuff with her. She has the ingredients with her for ‘integrative cakes’. She is not planning to just distribute her provision to her fellow-stakeholders, she plans to create together with them an (integrated) diner, that will help all of them survive on the long process towards the end goal.

Weapons of social learning

Remember the definition of social learning? 

“a collaborative, emergent learning process that hinges on the simultaneous cultivation of ‘difference’ and social cohesion in order to create joint ownership, unleash creativity and the kind of dynamic and energy needed to break with existing patterns, routines or systems”

• The cultivation of difference is represented by the agricultural field (bottom right), where all kinds of diverse plants are growing. The sign reads “cultivated difference”, which basically says it all. 
• Social cohesion is illustrated by the social glue tube hanging from the belt of Sole. Social cohesion, in my mind, is the ‘stuff that brings and holds people together’, and glue has a similar effect, hence the analogy. 
• Joint ownership, furthermore, is represented by the contract, also on Sole’s help-belt. Since ownership is nowadays nearly always written down in contracts, I thought it applicable to illustrate this joint ownership also with a contract. Because this is not just any old contract, but a ‘joint’ one, the contract is wrapped around a ‘joint’. 

In social learning a distinction can be made between individual and group perspectives. Four aspects of particular importance from the group perspective are:

• (Re)framing: the shield that Sole is carrying is a frame, and within it, there is a reframe. The framing-reframing is represented by a shield because a shield is meant to block some things, though not able to block everything – since it is limited in size. A frame can have similar effects, blocking some, but not other ways in which reality can be perceived. 
• Trust: trust is of vital importance for a group that is trying to socially learn. In order to guarantee everyone trusts one another, Sole has the ‘thrust 2000 trust-spear’. Let’s just assume that it will not pierce the heart of opponents, but rather ‘touch upon’ (‘aanstippen’ in Dutch) their trust. 
• Commitment: group members should be committed to process, content and each other. The ring on Sole’s shield-hand represents this commitment; it is an ‘engagement’ ring. In other words, she is committed to the social learning process, team and content. 
• Communication with the constituency: Sole has the latest high-tech equipment at her disposal. The can and rope hanging over her shoulder is connected to the can that is dragging behind her, and with it she can communicate with her ‘achterban’ or ‘grass-roots’ constituency.

Next I will give attention to individual perspectives to social learning. Many things seem to influence a person in his or her interpretation of things, and in order to represent this multitude of factors, I have dumped all of them  - culture, peers, worldviews, goals, norms values beliefs, prior knowledge et cetera – in one single bag, and called it ‘back-ground bag’. Notice that this is hanging on Sole’s back, this back-ground bag. It contains all individual background that can influence her perspectives.

Other aspects of social learning: 

• Diversity: different actors – ribbons on Sole’s arm – but also different perspectives of these actors – diverse glasses on the aviator-cap
• Conflicting interests: conflicting interests of actors are the loose ends of the ribbons, biting each other
• Common ground: the arrow on the road-sign that Sole faces points to the ground she walks upon, which is already ‘common’ now that she is walking on it
• Transparency: represented by the transparent mesh /gauze that is installed onto the frame-shield, showing that within the limits of the frame, one can see through clearly
• A space for interaction: represented by Sole’s sword, called ‘space maker’, a term susceptible to multiple interpretations, but at least a tool to make room for communication between actors. 

Not captured in this doodle, but of equal importance, by the way, are mutual dependency and the fact that there are no solutions to the problem to which everyone agrees.

Onwards to the enemy!

Sole is fighting a ‘wicked problem’ – hence the vicious smile of the clouds. Typically, wicked problems have an emergent character (represented by the ‘cloud-like’ appearance of the wicked problem); are complex and hyper-connected (represented by the complex network of nodes and connections inside the wicked problem), and are multi-faceted in nature (represented by the two facet-eyes of the second cloud), or rather, there are multiple perspectives on it (Sole’s aviator cap with various glasses for seeing all these different perspectives). As is also shown in the image, such problems are often rooted in society and cultures.

Wicked problems are described by Funtowicz and Ravetz as issues where: “facts are uncertain, values in dispute, stakes high and decisions urgent”(see also my previous post on Post-normal science). 

• Uncertainty is shown further along the road, when roads split up and more than one route to the castle emerges. 
• Illustrating disputed values, Sole carries with her a wide range of other actors, represented by ribbons around her arm. These ribbons have loose ends ‘of value’, whom are in conflict (see Sole’s right arm). 
• Moreover, that the stakes are high can be seen near the castle. Surrounding it are stakes in the ground, and these are quite high. Each stake, of course, is held tightly by a ‘stake-holder’. 
• Finally, the urgency of decisions is represented by Sole’s clock, hanging from her belt. It specifically notes 5-to-12, which is a Dutch way of saying that time is running out.

Concerning transition management, the sign that Sole is about to pass is referring to ‘at least’ two pathways towards her goal, which may lead to transitions. In the background, we can see two parachutists taking at least a third pathway. Moreover, the cableway is yet another pathway. Further down the road Sole will encounter even more pathways, which all amounts to the uncertainty of the social learning process.

What it is all about: the meaning of life?

Finally, a word or two about the end goal: the insights in the castle. They are hidden in the ‘box of insights’ which is a diorama or ‘view-box’ as it were. The instruction reads: “see ‘inside’ for insights”. This message has a double meaning: 1)  literally it means that in order to see what is inside the box, one ought to look inside it. Pure logic, no one can argue with that (except Schrodinger´s cat, but that is another matter). 2), a ‘deeper meaning’ of the instruction ‘seeing inside’ refers to a process of introspection, or self-reflection. In order to do this on her way over to the castle, Sole carries a mirror on her belt, with which she can self-reflect from time to time. Her mirror helps in ‘monitoring’, which is done along the way to the goal. But this box represents the more definitive ‘evaluation’, which takes place after a process has come to completion. Final insights can be obtained in hindsight, and a new ‘cycle’ of social learning can ensue. But how that second adventure ends, is for students of the next year to find out! 

*For a better/more sciency-sounding explanation of the idea behind Social Learning (from the perspective of the course's awesome teachers PJ Beers and Arjen Wals), see their paper called "The acoustics of social learning". 

Post-Normal Science: "When values are disputing at high stakes with uncertain facts"

Amen to that! 

Nay, dear reader, be not alarmed! I am not a zealot who is starting a new religion called 'Post-normalism' (that has probably already been done by another person, anyhow!)! Neither am I trying to dissuade you from doing 'Normal' Science, or dissuade you to not refrain from doing that, or doing anything else or not doing anything else... 

* sigh *

What DO I want with this post, then? 

Well, that is quite simple: I want to share with the world a small doodle (draft, sketch, scribble or scrabble if you will) that made my conceptual understanding of the empirical world so much more ... eh ... understandable (I am running out of difficult words here)! 

Anyway, first let me explain some context: there once was, in a country far far away (let's say the States) a pair of brilliant scientists called Funtowicz and Ravetz who wrote a really smart - but controversial - paper on science and its relevancy to society.

They basically claimed that there are different kinds or 'flavours' of science, which can basically differ from 'traditional science' through 'applied science' and 'professional consultancy' all the way up to 'post-normal science'. It is this latter flavour that might actually make science edible for society, if we stick to the flavour-metaphor.

Sounds cool, no? But what is it, this post-normal sciency stuff? Does it involve incomprehensible equations, lab-rat-experiments or years of intensive immersion in a local African community? Can we really eat it? 

Nay, say Functowicz and Ravetz, it is just the case that 'normal' science does not help us when: 

"Facts are uncertain, values in dispute, stakes high" *

Yay, says I, because this sounds like material I can visualize. Hence, I did, and the result is this doodle: 

Post-normal science is all about situations when "facts are uncertain, values in dispute [and] stakes high".

Running the risk of stating the obvious:

• The stakes (the wooden poles inserted in the 'dispute area') are high,
• The values (those little flame-shaped guys in the centre of the dispute area showing their teeth) are... well, in dispute, 
• The facts (the half-hidden dots representing data-facts that are uncertain about what to do)

Of course, Functowicz and Ravetz had their own schematic representation of matters as well, which is probably more 'academic' in style and lay-out but that just doesn't help me when I try to grasp this idea. 

Maybe besides the point but important to add, Functowicz and Ravetz were also talking about 'urgent decisions' being important factors in post-normal science. But since I could not incorporate urgency in my doodle, I concluded that this therefore must have been of secondary importance. After all, if our values are in dispute and stakes are high, that kind of automatically means we would want to reach decisions urgently, right? 

But DO feel free to argue that (and other) points!!!!

*As a matter of fact, this quote returns in many of the articles Functowicz and Ravetz have written on the topic, but one of the earliest and most readable is: Funtowicz, S. and Ravets, J. (1993) Science for the post-normal age. Futures 25. 739-755