Tuesday, March 14, 2006
Californians on Ice
About six weeks after my arrival in Sweden, Stockholm lay tightly encased in a solid block of winter. For two Southern Californians whose idea of a bitter winter was a little rain and some early morning frost on the front lawn, this was like an arctic adventure. The most fascinating of our new experiences were the frozen waterways that now connected the 14 or so islands of Stockholm into one unified land mass. Here’s what happened when my husband, KA, and I encountered this frozen phenomena up-close for the first time.
KA: Can you believe all of that is actually frozen?
Karen: Yeah, It’s hard to imagine, isn’t it? The most ice we’d ever seen in one place was floating in a margarita glass in California.
KA: Mom’s fridge used to ice up pretty good before they came out with those frost-free jobs.
Karen: I guess we need to alter our definition of ice. This is really something!
KA: Look! There’s footprints! People have been walking out there!
Karen: What!? Yeah, I see them. . .how can they possibly know it’s safe?
KA: No idea. Look, there’s people out there right now!
The two ice virgins stare in amazement as a cross-country skier glides past a couple of ice pedestrians who are approaching from the other side of the water way.
KA: Wanna try it?
Karen: You’re kidding, right?
KA: Yeah, maybe. . .
KA’s suggestion hangs like a cloud of breath in the cold air for the next ten minutes as the two continue to watch in a mild state of shock as perfectly sane-looking people step out on to the ice, apparently oblivious to the imminent danger of breaking through, the ice closing over them like the lid of a vast marble tomb, and drowning and freezing. Or maybe freezing and drowning. What difference did it make? They’d be Swedecicles just the same.
KA: Would you look at that—that woman is out there with a baby carriage!
Karen: I thought Sweden had pretty strict child abuse laws. How can she do that?
KA: If a lady with a baby thinks it’s OK to go out there, it’s probably OK. I mean, these people have grown up with this, right? Shouldn’t they be able to tell if it’s safe?
Karen: What are you saying?
KA: Lets try it! We can walk exactly where everyone else is walking.
Karen: Forget it!
KA: Come on! It’ll be fine.
Karen: I can’t swim.
KA: Yes, you can, and besides, I’ll bet you’d freeze to death before you had a chance to do much swimming.
Karen: That’s supposed to make me wanna do this?
Another ten minutes ticks away while KA puts forth his most eloquent arguments in favor of them taking a walk on the hardened water. Karen finally relents.
Karen: OK! OK! Let’s just stay near other people, alright?
They step out gingerly onto the snow-covered ice and walk a few meters.
Karen: Ooh! It’s so. . .solid!
KA: I certainly hope so!
Karen: Look here! The wind has blown the snow away. You can see the ice!
They both peer down at the bare patch of ice.
Karen: It looks so black. . . it’s like frozen coffee.
KA: You were expecting it to be crystal clear? The water isn’t crystal clear when it’s not frozen is it?
Karen: No, I guess not. Look at the frozen bubbles and the sea grass and stuff that’s frozen in there. What if you cleared some snow away from the ice and there was a dead, frozen face staring up at you?
KA: Now you’re just scaring yourself. Come on, let’s move on.
They walk the next 25 meters as if making their way through a mine field, when Karen stops abruptly.
Karen: Oh no!
KA: What! What!
Karen: CRACKS!!!
KA: CRACKS???
Karen: CRACKS!!!
KA: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Karen: AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Screaming like scared women (one of them actually is a scared woman), the two run for their lives back to the safety of terra firma. Panting from the sprint and from their near brush with cracks, they congratulate each other heartily for their bravery.
Karen: Wow! That was really scary! Did you see how the ice was actually pushed up out there?
KA: Yeah, I saw it. And we were right out there with it!
Karen: Pretty cool, huh?
KA: Yeah, that was something. There’s still a lot of people out there, though. No one else seems concerned that this whole bay is breaking up. . .
It took a couple of question-and-answer sessions with co-workers who knew the nature of ice and were able to convince us that cracks were kosher before we ventured out on to it again. We’ve come a long way since then, and now enjoy ice skating on a lake near our current home on Södermalm. It’s a ploughed track, and the only safety equipment we have are the short ice picks that hang a around our necks like tacky plastic jewellery that we would use to help pull ourselves out in case something happens.
I try not to think too much about why we wear the ice picks, but even when we skate on the man-made, centimeters-deep ice rink at the local athletic field, I’m always tempted to bring them along, just in case.
KA: Can you believe all of that is actually frozen?
Karen: Yeah, It’s hard to imagine, isn’t it? The most ice we’d ever seen in one place was floating in a margarita glass in California.
KA: Mom’s fridge used to ice up pretty good before they came out with those frost-free jobs.
Karen: I guess we need to alter our definition of ice. This is really something!
KA: Look! There’s footprints! People have been walking out there!
Karen: What!? Yeah, I see them. . .how can they possibly know it’s safe?
KA: No idea. Look, there’s people out there right now!
The two ice virgins stare in amazement as a cross-country skier glides past a couple of ice pedestrians who are approaching from the other side of the water way.
KA: Wanna try it?
Karen: You’re kidding, right?
KA: Yeah, maybe. . .
KA’s suggestion hangs like a cloud of breath in the cold air for the next ten minutes as the two continue to watch in a mild state of shock as perfectly sane-looking people step out on to the ice, apparently oblivious to the imminent danger of breaking through, the ice closing over them like the lid of a vast marble tomb, and drowning and freezing. Or maybe freezing and drowning. What difference did it make? They’d be Swedecicles just the same.
KA: Would you look at that—that woman is out there with a baby carriage!
Karen: I thought Sweden had pretty strict child abuse laws. How can she do that?
KA: If a lady with a baby thinks it’s OK to go out there, it’s probably OK. I mean, these people have grown up with this, right? Shouldn’t they be able to tell if it’s safe?
Karen: What are you saying?
KA: Lets try it! We can walk exactly where everyone else is walking.
Karen: Forget it!
KA: Come on! It’ll be fine.
Karen: I can’t swim.
KA: Yes, you can, and besides, I’ll bet you’d freeze to death before you had a chance to do much swimming.
Karen: That’s supposed to make me wanna do this?
Another ten minutes ticks away while KA puts forth his most eloquent arguments in favor of them taking a walk on the hardened water. Karen finally relents.
Karen: OK! OK! Let’s just stay near other people, alright?
They step out gingerly onto the snow-covered ice and walk a few meters.
Karen: Ooh! It’s so. . .solid!
KA: I certainly hope so!
Karen: Look here! The wind has blown the snow away. You can see the ice!
They both peer down at the bare patch of ice.
Karen: It looks so black. . . it’s like frozen coffee.
KA: You were expecting it to be crystal clear? The water isn’t crystal clear when it’s not frozen is it?
Karen: No, I guess not. Look at the frozen bubbles and the sea grass and stuff that’s frozen in there. What if you cleared some snow away from the ice and there was a dead, frozen face staring up at you?
KA: Now you’re just scaring yourself. Come on, let’s move on.
They walk the next 25 meters as if making their way through a mine field, when Karen stops abruptly.
Karen: Oh no!
KA: What! What!
Karen: CRACKS!!!
KA: CRACKS???
Karen: CRACKS!!!
KA: AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Karen: AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
Screaming like scared women (one of them actually is a scared woman), the two run for their lives back to the safety of terra firma. Panting from the sprint and from their near brush with cracks, they congratulate each other heartily for their bravery.
Karen: Wow! That was really scary! Did you see how the ice was actually pushed up out there?
KA: Yeah, I saw it. And we were right out there with it!
Karen: Pretty cool, huh?
KA: Yeah, that was something. There’s still a lot of people out there, though. No one else seems concerned that this whole bay is breaking up. . .
It took a couple of question-and-answer sessions with co-workers who knew the nature of ice and were able to convince us that cracks were kosher before we ventured out on to it again. We’ve come a long way since then, and now enjoy ice skating on a lake near our current home on Södermalm. It’s a ploughed track, and the only safety equipment we have are the short ice picks that hang a around our necks like tacky plastic jewellery that we would use to help pull ourselves out in case something happens.
I try not to think too much about why we wear the ice picks, but even when we skate on the man-made, centimeters-deep ice rink at the local athletic field, I’m always tempted to bring them along, just in case.
# posted by Karen @ 12:55 PM 
