Deppert.se

Often I write about the culture clash that takes place when I go to another country. This time I will turn it the other way around. I was fortunate to have visitors from Uganda last week and they certainly questioned some very usual things here in Sweden.

For example: Why do people ride their bike around here so much? In Uganda, riding a bike is a sign that you are not rich enough to by a motorcycle. Well, sure, the students in Lund are poor, but not that poor. The argument that biking is good for your health and an easier means of transport did not really convince my visitors. And once we saw a bike with a cart for kids behind it, which really triggered some discussions.

The other astonishing fact was that we have tarmac roads to basically every little house on the countryside. In Uganda, building a road to the house is the owner’s responsibility and he will then be thanked by some hefty road taxes. And tarmac is mostly non-existent in Uganda, only the main traffic roads in the country have tarmac.

While giving lectures at different school, my visitors also experience some shocks. Not only was the lunch heated in the microwave but also was a class made up of about 15-20 students and a variety of teachers. In Uganda the equivalent is 70-90 and very few teachers in general.

In all, it is very useful to get some provoking thoughts about your own situation and lifestyle. And it has not made my urge to visit the African continent go away.

Cheers,
Ulrike

Yesterday, I did one of the most courageous things I ever have done. I donated blood. Not for the first time in my life, in fact it was visit number 11, but it is always the same fear that strikes me. I get nervous about a day before and the 15 Minutes (tops!) in the chair are the most horrifying in my life. Even though nurses guard me the whole time and I always bring a friend/family member to keep me company. I just can’t do it without being afraid.

But yesterday, I had the big revelation. While going through the procedures, I wound myself saying that “but I am at least not afraid of raiding trains anymore”. And realised, that yes, that was true! After almost 27 years of riding a train, well lets say that I have been feeling that fear for maybe 24 years (I can’t really count the earliest years in my life), I am no longer afraid of entering a trains. Yes, I am still nervous, but no longer afraid of being left alone on the train or anything else.

And with that hindsight I can make some calculations: I have been donating blood for 8 years. Overcoming a huge fear for something takes approx. 24 years. That leaves me with a meagre 16 years before I will happily walk to the blood donations centre! Not bad, I must say. And I will hopefully catch malaria before that and be relieved in less than 16 years!

Cheers,
Ulrike