[She] Leaves Early for Work

Two of my co-workers constantly poke fun at me for leaving the "Personnummer" slot empty when I write myself into the work-log. Yes, it's true, I don't have a Swedish social security number, and yesterday I finally heard back that my application has been rejected. I could practically feel the red stamp of rejection burning through the envelope as I stalled to open the damn thing. There wasn't actually a red stamp, just a lot of bureaucratic jargon in Swedish with a signature and a phone number if I have questions. I had plenty! I was practically bursting with, "Pleaseeeee, why don't you understand that I want to pay ridiculously high taxes and be a good citizen here?!"

 I called up my appointed representative this morning and the call ended with me laughing. Laughing! How many times in your life do you laugh when your quest to be a legal immigrant in a new country is hindered by thorny bushes of bureaucracy? Mr. Skatteverket was extremely friendly and I found that he genuinely wanted to help me. Even he chuckled on the other side of the line. I mean, come on! This is like the best immigration experience I could ask for. No sweaty palms or hiding out in my mom's closet at every ding of the doorbell. No switching lanes and driving off track to avoid "being followed by feds." I am legal here. Regardless of my SS# or lack thereof. So now I'm going to apply for a tax number instead, so that at least my earnings will be legally taxed. YES! And then I'll just have to find another way of getting a SS#. Maybe if I stay here long enough they'll just accept me with open arms.

My work at Rosenhill is petering out with the end of the season. I study the trees every morning and they've been putting on such a lovely display for me. I love fall! I know I say this every year that fall is my favorite season of all, but I don't think I've experienced one like this before. I have never seen anything like this before. Or if I have, I clearly don't remember it. And since my memory is pretty good, I have to conclude that I haven't ever seen anything like this. I looks like Rastafarian fireworks are tethered to the gnarled trunks of trees. The trees themselves don't actually seem to be so connected to their colorful leaves. It looks rather like their bodies are falling into a deep trance while their heads go off on some high journey and reach enlightenment. Maybe that is what nirvana really is, the death of another round of leaves, the shedding of a layer of skin, the end of the warm season.

It's quite miraculous. I can't stop gathering leaves. I think they're all so beautiful. I want to stop and cherish each and every beautifully patterned maple leaf, with all its idiosyncrasies painted into its grooves and around its veins. Gaaah! Yesterday I found one that reminded me of a tortoise-shell and I tried to shares those thoughts with the French-speaking guy from Senegal who I was walking with. He spoke a tiny bit of English and some Spanish. I kept pointing at the leaf and uttering "Tortuga," "Tortuga" and making turtle-swimming motions with my hands. I don't think the message got through to him though, and he gave me a skeptical, half-laugh, half "she's crazy" smile.

Ah, well...some things are lost in translation. It's a bit sad that sometimes certain expressions are lost, or rather, taken by the wind for the birds to hear, but at the same time, the expression remains a private, emotional experience and that's also nice. It's like a little personal charm that only I can really wear, because I'm the only one who understands it. I used to be exasperated by the fact that communication can be severely stunted by language barriers, but now I look at it in a different way. I always have a desire to express my thoughts, but when I can't, I'm forced to swallow them back down and then they start to ferment until they explode like a New Years' bottle of well-aged, expensive champagne; and BOOM they show up here, or work their ways into poems or stories. It's just like the firework trees. We're all blooming together with colorful ideas.

I am so happy to be experiencing this. Even during short walks to the metro station or to my boyfriends house, my eyes feast on these wonderful pompoms of foliage. I know that it'll all be over in a week or two, but then the rainbow pamphlets will lay on the ground and I can frolic and kick up clouds of them. These trees make life so good that I wonder, why even bother making a fuss about legal matters? Nature is so clearly doing its job right and providing free entertainment to all of us who care to watch. I don't think trees need Personnummers to live in Sweden. Oh, I get it now. I must be a tree. Whoa.