Longing
Strange, the things immigrants miss and long for. Never the predictable, seldom consciously. Recently I was overcome by the longing for the smell of mimosa. I have never experienced them on trees, only as cut flowers. Expensive and short lived. I have never found any here in New Zealand. Another time it was the taste of fried Baltic herring. Surrouned by seas and with a choice of fish and seafood that is unparallelled in the world, it is the humble herring that occupies my mind. Also, I live in the world’s dairy heaven. There are 10 million cows in this small country - more than two per person. Yet there is no cheese like the cheese in Europe. Here, cheese comes in tiny slivers, prepackaged in gladwrap. I am not sure if it is the handling that makes the produce so lacking in personality and flavour, or if it is the product itself. Imagine my joy when I discovered what must be one of the world’s smallest cheese manufacturer the other week. In Mercer, just south of Auckland, sits this charming little factory and even smaller shop. The Dutch owners fill the shelves with wonderful generous whole round cheeses, encourage you to taste, provide advice and recommendations. And they cut the cheese to your specifications. It costs a fraction of the cheese in my supermarket. And it tastes divine. Like in Europe.
One must be grateful for little mercies.
Oh, and they also stock salt licorice, an acquired taste embraced only by the Dutch, the Finns and the Swedes.
August 10th, 2007 at 11:44 pm
Hi Linda,
Just heard you read your Swedish short story on Swedish Radio–absolutely wonderful, and you read it beautifully, too! I think the translation worked very well, though I think I sometimes heard the far off echo of English a few times–very effectful, as I imagine the older sister had spent most of her adult life abroad. My youngest sister is totally friendly and helpful, but very hard to reach–made me wonder about abandonment issues.
I’ve been living in this rented house in Sörmland most of the summer (and still have three weeks to go!). My youngest daughter has just arrived from the US and should be showing up any minue. I was making an apple cake in the kitchen, when I heard you would be reading your story.
I’m trying to do some writing, mostly memories from a somewhat unusual childhood. So far it may be mostly raw material for more ambitious stuff, but it’s something I have to do, work through, and my girls are asking for it. Some of it will deal with sibling relations, though most of it in earlier generations. The writing is going well, at least words show up on the screen, but I found that I have not had anywhere near the time I thought I’d have. Too many wonderful visits, mostly overnight/s/, from friends in whose homes I’ve been a guest the last 40 years.
All for now–just wanted to tell you how wonderful it was to sit in my tiny kitchen, the rain pouring outside on all the greenery, the smell of the cake, the Swedish radio–and knowing that we both have been gone for so long, live in very foreign surroundings.
Lycka till med den nya romanen!
Eva
August 10th, 2007 at 11:45 pm
PS
Your photos are wonderful!