Having been engulfed by the baby bubble, my awareness is now on things I did not think about before (and vice versa I am sure, like having to think really hard to know what day it is). Being a first time father, I have no experience of being in the Swedish baby bubble, so instead […]
With experience from living in apartments in Sweden, I have been amazed at the quietness of our neighbours in our apartment building (or mansion as we say here). Apart from the front door (I am sorry, I mean the metal sheet covering the entrance to our apartment) which lets through all the sound from anyone
Being a foreigner in Tokyo, I have come to know the Immigration Bureau quite well; during my two years here I have already gone there five or six times. And now time had come to visit the Immigration Bureau once again to apply for an extension of my spouse visa. With the Corona virus affecting
When moving to Japan, I was used to almost never using cash. Many stores and other establishments in Sweden do not even accept cash – you need to pay with a credit card or more recently with your mobile phone. In that way, living in Japan feels like living in the days of my adolescence,
Apart from love and patience, being a parent seems to require flexibility more than anything else. In many ways I find that my wife and I are acting like a zipper, taking turns to care about our baby and connecting with each other to seal the space of love we are carrying. It is a
Looking into the eyes of a baby is going through a portal opening up to a dimension beyond what was previously possible to encounter; that is how I have felt while giving milk in a bottle to our little son, meeting his big, unwaveringly eyes. Apart from a memory of the first time my wife
One week with a baby at home has taught me some new Japanese words. First comes lack of sleep, or 寝不足 [nebusoku], where the Chinese characters, kanji, mean something like “sleep non-sufficient”. (I really like the Japanese way of expressing this, although I do not so much like the experience in general.) The last kanji
This has been the happiest week of my life, but in some ways also the most difficult. Let me back up to last Friday, May 29. When I start writing this, I am sitting in a car park outside a children’s hospital in Tokyo. The time is 2.25 and the rain has finally stopped. We came
I love the ceiling in our apartment; in a way it feels like we live in an old factory when I look at the ceiling and see the uneven surfaces, the rough unpolished cement, the imprints that the wood used for making the ceiling has left behind. I fantasised about living in an old factory
Under the big highway, on the other side of the road from our apartment, there is a little playground. My wife calls it a park, though for a park it is a quite sad place, a patch of dirt for ball games, a little bit of vegetation, and from our window we can see a
Names. Names has always fascinated me. I remember when my little sister was born and I had a favourite name that I was trying to convince my parent’s to give her. I really loved that name, and eventually it became my sisters third name – that is how it is in Sweden, you can have
I could not imagine Tokyo being this quiet. It has been Golden Week, the longish Japanese spring holiday, and with traveling out of the question and shops and parks closed, people seem to have been quietly staying at home; streets almost empty and only a few trucks on the nearby highway. I woke up early