So, It ends like this. Prematurely. A brief foray into the European Commission.
But what a ride it has been! The parallell tracks of working and the application process/anxiety to the foreign office has been the constant of this autumn. And now it's soon to be over. But it'll not end with a whimper, but with two big bangs!
Track 1: The European Commission.
Ending: PM Reinfeldt and PM Fogh Rasmussen to visit our Climate exhibition
Soundtrack: "I love Europe" - Christer Sjögren, alt. "Greensleeves"
Track 2: The Ministry for Foreign Affairs
Ending: Diplomat - for life
Soundtrack: "F*ck the World" - Turbonegro, alt. "Rouge sang" - Saïan Supa Crew
The blog has been less of the instrument I foresaw, what happens now on that front is less certain. What is certain, however, is that things will not be less interesting from now on. Strangely enough, with an happening like this, there is emptiness; in that my plans up until now, all the different ideas, possible doors to open, roads to walk and windows to jump through, have been made void.
I'll make some new
12.12.2008
11.17.2008
Friend
Early evening texts. I reach out. Far. Oceans away, to other continents, other shores.
A tear, a sigh...
A tear, a sigh...
Grasping ceaselessly. I do not cease. Cease and desist! -No. I won't, I can't. It's easy. I wasn't saved. I would have survived. But...I was reborn - too strong- re-invented? re-made? testing, trying still...made real, yes. Reality bites.
...escapes from heaven...
In to the flood again. allt av vikt jag säger... A two pronged approach I assume. The emotions of an epic compressed into a restricted number of letters, written with all the literary qualities of a child. TUI. Not entirely, well, alone.
Everything has to be registered and forged in to a tale to make it real. I was made real. I will not be un-made. Hence, it will have to be written and sent, all of it, everything. So I do.
...and worlds end.
There's blood in the wind, and it comes all the way from faraway skies... What happens then? Will someone watch over me from the other shore? A glance, a gaze? Too much or too little, I'm never safe.
...and He will wipe every tear from their eyes...
Do
Equate this! - a story about technical twins, double A's and a Czech mayor.
-Should I take the french sleeping pill?
-It's probalby illegal in Sweden without a prescription...nah, it most definitely is illegal in Sweden without a prescription.
- I need to sleep. It will make me sleep.
- You can have one if you want to.
- Have you tried it?
- Yes, once.
- For how long did you sleep?
- Until I woke up.
- ?
- Until I woke up
- ?! Will I be sleepy for 8, 12, 20 hours?
- Probably around 8 hours, I wasn't sleepy after I woke up.
- I might never wake up again...
And in spite of the pressure, I do want to wake up. Wake up! Wake up!
So, there I was, again, with the few, the chosen, the future. Another future. Not with them this time, at least on the outset. Against them. Pitted against each other in a battle to serve the people. We were to be assessed. Trials and tribulations.
Wake up!
First trial: unshaved, lumberjack shirt, showers.... are for others. Because I'm not like them!
Bananas and a coke, fit for a king! Tick-tack, a Bernanke here a Kurosawa there, an acronym here a foreign aid number there tick-tack, faster! Financial crises are worse in english - even worse in arabic! Inflation target - in arabic? Hedge-fund? No way Jose! Over to the essay, which one then...Tick-tack...-The Lisbon Treaty *drooling*. Finally, time is up.
Wake up!
Second trial: Interview. Pleasantly, fine, easy. My God I just made the worst mistake of my life!!! Or didn't I?
Third trial: Tick-tack, those d*mn little boxes! Teachers against more funding or more funding against teachers, which teachers, funding, funds? teaching? Or was it circles? Trinagles? I've lost it.
Intermission: Naaah, the others were nice. Good people. I think... I really did like them, on first thought. Different and the same, us against the others. And a spoon filled with a Czech mayor.
Fourth trial: Presentation, role play, group. We are one and we believe in this company, provided we do these changes based on this and that statistical fact. We really believed after a while, with authority to match.
Fifth trial: In front of the Tribunal. Three grey magistrates. I think I've done it this far. I'm not going to falter now. If I'm going to leave with some dignity left, I'll leave on my own terms. I'll take the 400 hundred blows with my back straight. It's my way, what I am. I'm not going to do it any other way, so:
Let's talk about love!
-It's probalby illegal in Sweden without a prescription...nah, it most definitely is illegal in Sweden without a prescription.
- I need to sleep. It will make me sleep.
- You can have one if you want to.
- Have you tried it?
- Yes, once.
- For how long did you sleep?
- Until I woke up.
- ?
- Until I woke up
- ?! Will I be sleepy for 8, 12, 20 hours?
- Probably around 8 hours, I wasn't sleepy after I woke up.
- I might never wake up again...
And in spite of the pressure, I do want to wake up. Wake up! Wake up!
So, there I was, again, with the few, the chosen, the future. Another future. Not with them this time, at least on the outset. Against them. Pitted against each other in a battle to serve the people. We were to be assessed. Trials and tribulations.
Wake up!
First trial: unshaved, lumberjack shirt, showers.... are for others. Because I'm not like them!
Bananas and a coke, fit for a king! Tick-tack, a Bernanke here a Kurosawa there, an acronym here a foreign aid number there tick-tack, faster! Financial crises are worse in english - even worse in arabic! Inflation target - in arabic? Hedge-fund? No way Jose! Over to the essay, which one then...Tick-tack...-The Lisbon Treaty *drooling*. Finally, time is up.
Wake up!
Second trial: Interview. Pleasantly, fine, easy. My God I just made the worst mistake of my life!!! Or didn't I?
Third trial: Tick-tack, those d*mn little boxes! Teachers against more funding or more funding against teachers, which teachers, funding, funds? teaching? Or was it circles? Trinagles? I've lost it.
Intermission: Naaah, the others were nice. Good people. I think... I really did like them, on first thought. Different and the same, us against the others. And a spoon filled with a Czech mayor.
Fourth trial: Presentation, role play, group. We are one and we believe in this company, provided we do these changes based on this and that statistical fact. We really believed after a while, with authority to match.
Fifth trial: In front of the Tribunal. Three grey magistrates. I think I've done it this far. I'm not going to falter now. If I'm going to leave with some dignity left, I'll leave on my own terms. I'll take the 400 hundred blows with my back straight. It's my way, what I am. I'm not going to do it any other way, so:
Let's talk about love!
10.29.2008
The man from U.N.C.L.E.
Hahaha, past and future together in a matter of moments. Life and such a killer.
"History is a nightmare from which we are trying to awake" ...I'm tired.
Whether we accept it, like it, or rather in spite of all that we do, it goes forward. To the future my friends! To the future!
Perception and nonsense, vapors. Smoke and mirrors.
A construct with physical substance. Nay, something entirely different. Something real.
From the darkest nightmares conjured,
Something which the depths allured,
Away, away! -he went,
From where is this construct sent?
From out the shallow sea,
This thing now beams -I'm free!
And on his shoulders all depended,
A fog of war descended,
Tomorrow... it won't be shady,
Because today:
a baby
"History is a nightmare from which we are trying to awake" ...I'm tired.
Whether we accept it, like it, or rather in spite of all that we do, it goes forward. To the future my friends! To the future!
Perception and nonsense, vapors. Smoke and mirrors.
A construct with physical substance. Nay, something entirely different. Something real.
From the darkest nightmares conjured,
Something which the depths allured,
Away, away! -he went,
From where is this construct sent?
From out the shallow sea,
This thing now beams -I'm free!
And on his shoulders all depended,
A fog of war descended,
Tomorrow... it won't be shady,
Because today:
a baby
10.28.2008
Oh my God, It's good to see, another day another Euro
F it
Structure Schmuckture. I decide.
Some of us were standing in our booth.
- Never have I seen such a sorry, tired and weighed down crowd - teachers. No disdain though.
Fortunately, we were inside the Halo of Stars; saved by it, glorified. Peddling information in exchange for dissemination. Influence, loyalty.
The scavengers were kept at bay and their hunger satiated by the products of our unending generosity.
We decide. We lead. Others follow, flee in our direction.
Such is the lure of Us.
They beg to be crowned with this thorn of stars; drowned in this sea of Euros.
Structure Schmuckture. I decide.
Some of us were standing in our booth.
- Never have I seen such a sorry, tired and weighed down crowd - teachers. No disdain though.
Fortunately, we were inside the Halo of Stars; saved by it, glorified. Peddling information in exchange for dissemination. Influence, loyalty.
The scavengers were kept at bay and their hunger satiated by the products of our unending generosity.
We decide. We lead. Others follow, flee in our direction.
Such is the lure of Us.
They beg to be crowned with this thorn of stars; drowned in this sea of Euros.
10.22.2008
The Voyage
I have realized that I have at least two problems with the writing of this blog:
Firstly: I lack a sense of direction and structure. The event-style episodes of Midan Kairo does not work here. Simply because my life does not move at the same pace and in as many unintended directions. The waves does not go as high, nor as low. And therefore I cannot write in the same way. It will have to reflect the new reality of my life and work. Less haphazardly, more orderly, less exciting, more educational. I am looking for a new frame of writing, but I have not found it yet. As a result the coming posts will be a bit unorderly until I find it.
Secondly: There are certain restrictions with regards to what I am allowed to write vis-à-vis my employer concerning issues such as secrecy and loyalty. One of the barriers is formal and the other is personal. The former is pretty straightforward in that I am not allowed to divulge certain information and the like. The latter is more complex in that I am now part of an organization and I feel, in a way, obliged to honour my decision to work for them. The subtext of this does not imply that I have a dirty secret to tell or that I want to criticize my employer. What it does mean however is that I feel restrained, whether the practical implications of that restraint are real or not. The end result is that I feel inhibited in the sense that I have made the pool of thought from which I draw the inspiration and the material to write this blog smaller.
Firstly: I lack a sense of direction and structure. The event-style episodes of Midan Kairo does not work here. Simply because my life does not move at the same pace and in as many unintended directions. The waves does not go as high, nor as low. And therefore I cannot write in the same way. It will have to reflect the new reality of my life and work. Less haphazardly, more orderly, less exciting, more educational. I am looking for a new frame of writing, but I have not found it yet. As a result the coming posts will be a bit unorderly until I find it.
Secondly: There are certain restrictions with regards to what I am allowed to write vis-à-vis my employer concerning issues such as secrecy and loyalty. One of the barriers is formal and the other is personal. The former is pretty straightforward in that I am not allowed to divulge certain information and the like. The latter is more complex in that I am now part of an organization and I feel, in a way, obliged to honour my decision to work for them. The subtext of this does not imply that I have a dirty secret to tell or that I want to criticize my employer. What it does mean however is that I feel restrained, whether the practical implications of that restraint are real or not. The end result is that I feel inhibited in the sense that I have made the pool of thought from which I draw the inspiration and the material to write this blog smaller.
10.19.2008
Airport garage
I was sitting on a bench, in a damp and windy garage under Brussels International Airport. A habit, it seemed, as I returned every day; except one. I was waiting for a bus to take me downtown or to my hotel. The way to the city was drawn through the airport or, more truthfully, my seedy barracks of a hotel was placed in an industrial area in close proximity to the airplanes' nest and therefore out of reach for the public transportation system.
Finally the shuttle bus arrived, probably late. I need a cab for tomorrow. There's a general strike and nothing's moving, except taxis. I'm tired. Alright, they'll help me. It'll be great to lay down on the bed in my room to read and write. I'll probably have to put some important papers together for the conference tomorrow too. What's the code to my door again, yes I wrote it down. Click. Nothing. The code is accepted, it works, but the door won't open. Ridiculous! I NEED to get in to my room, I paid for it! Bodycheck. Bang! ...nothing. Alright, the staff must surely have a key or a plan b. - My door won't open and I know my keycode. - Alright, I'll check. Bodycheck ...nothing. -I'll call a technician, you can have the room next door. - OK, but i still need my stuff. - He'll be here soon. ... A sound. I go out in to the corridor. A young man with a bag of secrets is working on the door, he has dismantled the electronic apparatus and is now trying different instruments on the door itself. Nothing. It's time to take the gloves off. It's sunday evening and it's not fun anymore so he reaches deep down into his bag, picks up a crowbar and breaks the door open.
- I'll just pick up my stuff and move in to the room next door.
- yea, this room is out of order.
Finally the shuttle bus arrived, probably late. I need a cab for tomorrow. There's a general strike and nothing's moving, except taxis. I'm tired. Alright, they'll help me. It'll be great to lay down on the bed in my room to read and write. I'll probably have to put some important papers together for the conference tomorrow too. What's the code to my door again, yes I wrote it down. Click. Nothing. The code is accepted, it works, but the door won't open. Ridiculous! I NEED to get in to my room, I paid for it! Bodycheck. Bang! ...nothing. Alright, the staff must surely have a key or a plan b. - My door won't open and I know my keycode. - Alright, I'll check. Bodycheck ...nothing. -I'll call a technician, you can have the room next door. - OK, but i still need my stuff. - He'll be here soon. ... A sound. I go out in to the corridor. A young man with a bag of secrets is working on the door, he has dismantled the electronic apparatus and is now trying different instruments on the door itself. Nothing. It's time to take the gloves off. It's sunday evening and it's not fun anymore so he reaches deep down into his bag, picks up a crowbar and breaks the door open.
- I'll just pick up my stuff and move in to the room next door.
- yea, this room is out of order.
En programförklaring - Letter of intent
Sorry, I forgot to tell what these pages will hold.
This time the main focus will be, at least on the outset, to write about my experiences as a trainee (stagière) for the European Commission, at their representation in Stockholm.
Other than that, who knows. I hope it will be more but I'm not certain.
PS. A disclamier too, to be sure. In no way do I represent the European Commission. The views expressed here are purely my own...or others that I've stolen from a book..or...well, at least they do not represent the European Commission.
This time the main focus will be, at least on the outset, to write about my experiences as a trainee (stagière) for the European Commission, at their representation in Stockholm.
Other than that, who knows. I hope it will be more but I'm not certain.
PS. A disclamier too, to be sure. In no way do I represent the European Commission. The views expressed here are purely my own...or others that I've stolen from a book..or...well, at least they do not represent the European Commission.
10.18.2008
Commissioned!
"Welcome to the most prestigeous and best employer in the world. Ask anyone at the UN, NATO, IMF or the World Bank."
I was seated, listening to the best of my abilities to the speaker who was switching effortlessly between english and french. Beside me and around me young people from all over Europe. Balts, Italians, French, Brits, Germans, Danes and more. All of them with flawless english and most of them with french too; in addition to all their other languages. Movers they were. Around Europe they'd been, studying and working. Science Po, LSE, Sorbonne and the like.
These were the elect few, the chosen, the future.
And me.
Some time ago, years, I would have eaten it all, but now...
What am I doing among these...elites and priviliged ...europeans? I'm lost, I went into the wrong room. Jag gömmer mig i mitt huvud; här inne är jag fri och mig själv. Med mitt eget hemliga språk som ingen av dom där förstår. I remain on guard.
And for lunch: Champagne
I was seated, listening to the best of my abilities to the speaker who was switching effortlessly between english and french. Beside me and around me young people from all over Europe. Balts, Italians, French, Brits, Germans, Danes and more. All of them with flawless english and most of them with french too; in addition to all their other languages. Movers they were. Around Europe they'd been, studying and working. Science Po, LSE, Sorbonne and the like.
These were the elect few, the chosen, the future.
And me.
Some time ago, years, I would have eaten it all, but now...
What am I doing among these...elites and priviliged ...europeans? I'm lost, I went into the wrong room. Jag gömmer mig i mitt huvud; här inne är jag fri och mig själv. Med mitt eget hemliga språk som ingen av dom där förstår. I remain on guard.
And for lunch: Champagne
10.16.2008
Bureaucrazy: preparations for Brussels
After my first day at work I had to go to Brussels for an introductory conference with all the other trainees, or stagières, as we are called in EU-lingo. Therefore the following posts will be a Brussels special about what happens if you mix a three-language country without a government with 600 young trainees from all over Europe, one swede with childhood memories of Brussels and a general strike. Well, it'll be the long version, because the short answer I can give right now: rain.
10.13.2008
Tales from above the tree line
Some tiny fragments will be made public, those remembered, and those permitted. All of this is written on stolen paper.
I went above the tree line. To wander among the mountains, to let nature have me. And I saw.
I left the EU, and the uneasiness came over me. I was detached from Civilization, left to battle for myself against forces unknown. Norway. The brief foray in to this vast wildernss was soon over as I crossed over the fence separating the countries. A fence you say? Well, apparently the EU does not allow norwegian reindeers to enter its borders. Fortress Europe indeed.
I heard something, a sentence uttered. I remember it being two ladies talking in an hotel slightly below the tree line. This is what one of them said to the other: ..."he had found a way to make the day go..." Succinct and easy. A remarkable discovery, a beautiful description of the human struggle. Is he content?
And then some more fragments and quotes that stuck during this struggle of a summer.
"I have not been able to get over my successes"
...dare I go back? Am I already gone?
"Nothing great in the world has been accomplished without passion"
damn...
Tell!
Well...
Well?!
Hell
Well...
There's a man standing with a nice(an ice) shirt. Collared and framed, his face is indistinguishable from the outfit. He's wearing suit pants; ironed sharp. The hair is combed in an orderly fashion, with glasses to match. A black grown up coat completes the type. Clean.
I don't recognize myself. Is this the man that lived, loved and lost in Cairo? This is not me, I will resist!
Mirror, mirror on the wall, stop this nonsense! Who is this man?!
What am I doing now?
I went above the tree line. To wander among the mountains, to let nature have me. And I saw.
I left the EU, and the uneasiness came over me. I was detached from Civilization, left to battle for myself against forces unknown. Norway. The brief foray in to this vast wildernss was soon over as I crossed over the fence separating the countries. A fence you say? Well, apparently the EU does not allow norwegian reindeers to enter its borders. Fortress Europe indeed.
I heard something, a sentence uttered. I remember it being two ladies talking in an hotel slightly below the tree line. This is what one of them said to the other: ..."he had found a way to make the day go..." Succinct and easy. A remarkable discovery, a beautiful description of the human struggle. Is he content?
And then some more fragments and quotes that stuck during this struggle of a summer.
"I have not been able to get over my successes"
...dare I go back? Am I already gone?
"Nothing great in the world has been accomplished without passion"
damn...
Tell!
Well...
Well?!
Hell
Well...
There's a man standing with a nice(an ice) shirt. Collared and framed, his face is indistinguishable from the outfit. He's wearing suit pants; ironed sharp. The hair is combed in an orderly fashion, with glasses to match. A black grown up coat completes the type. Clean.
I don't recognize myself. Is this the man that lived, loved and lost in Cairo? This is not me, I will resist!
Mirror, mirror on the wall, stop this nonsense! Who is this man?!
What am I doing now?
Ante-(up) establishment.
Since returning: fragments, events, no common...well that's a lie. One common denominator. The rest is just events. I mix them up, but the cocktail isn't better than the original, non-emergent. I digress.
My memory says I was in a bus, passing a forest and a theme park feeling thus: resistance. It came bubbling from deep inside, I was screaming against the opposing army. This will not stand, this can not stand! I will fight!
For an instant it's pushing everything else aside - I am the sword!
Then, slowly, receding, creeping back to its bastion. Waiting, preparing, staying ready, on alert.
The establishment will go on, and I with it. I will oppose.
...am I already?
My memory says I was in a bus, passing a forest and a theme park feeling thus: resistance. It came bubbling from deep inside, I was screaming against the opposing army. This will not stand, this can not stand! I will fight!
For an instant it's pushing everything else aside - I am the sword!
Then, slowly, receding, creeping back to its bastion. Waiting, preparing, staying ready, on alert.
The establishment will go on, and I with it. I will oppose.
...am I already?
10.12.2008
Blue palette
I am still here.
A new chapter, a book lost. It's been different, harder. More crashes. Everything stays where it happens, I leave it there, put it there, it stays on its own. This time too much and I didn't take enough. So, I am less.
I want to write, I may even need to. To write myself. More on that in another post. Maybe. That is why I'm still here.
In any case, I am back where I could have continued some time ago: Europe.
I am now in its service, and, in the end, yours.
Where the path goes from here and who I'll become is...as it ever was, shrouded in mist, the door is open, and I'll keep it that way, whether I should or not. What form this blog will take from now on is...will...was...life. I have read and realized that solid matter and edge has had to give way to clouds and water. A change might be in order. Make no mistake however:
I will not lose anything if I stop.
A new chapter, a book lost. It's been different, harder. More crashes. Everything stays where it happens, I leave it there, put it there, it stays on its own. This time too much and I didn't take enough. So, I am less.
I want to write, I may even need to. To write myself. More on that in another post. Maybe. That is why I'm still here.
In any case, I am back where I could have continued some time ago: Europe.
I am now in its service, and, in the end, yours.
Where the path goes from here and who I'll become is...as it ever was, shrouded in mist, the door is open, and I'll keep it that way, whether I should or not. What form this blog will take from now on is...will...was...life. I have read and realized that solid matter and edge has had to give way to clouds and water. A change might be in order. Make no mistake however:
I will not lose anything if I stop.
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