Mar. 18th, 2005

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The first American that told me he was extremely intelligent humbled me into submission and a feeling of utterly low self esteem.
I had really never experienced such a matter of fact way of phrasing the second most loaded quality in society today, after beauty.
Just.."I am actually very..." and then a little about why that was the case.
Later I understood, that when it came to his specific case he was both truthful and phrasing it in a relatively low key way...compared to other citizens of this vast country that I encountered.
I am still very divided on the mixture of pride and ease and flattery as well as self flattery that people around me present. And I do admit that I can sometimes feel both threatened and confused by it. See...where I come from it is very rare for someone to randomly say that they are geniuses, brilliant, super-intelligent - at least not without thorough context or a solid tail of comic self depreciating relief following close after.
You rarely classify if people are geniuses or very clever in Sweden..sometimes, on occasion they act according to that, or someone just works in her field of specialty, and years later a mutual friend can say..oh yeah..she's really one of the top people in that field, quite brilliant really, and you go: Oh..I didn't know that! Neat.

But I might grow to like the affirmative way of expressing yourself in the States. I mean...If you once were a Prom Queen, and you every day for the rest of your life told yourself: I am a prom queen..wouldn't you, even as an older woman, still ascertain a special queen-like air and poise about yourself?

All executed in moderation of course - as a Swede would say...

Anyhow, vaguely related to this, here's another cultural clash I've encountered, maybe not a particularly new pattern of thoughts, but I do try...

It is easy to love in America

It comes like a burp
a natural outflow of chicken skin
and chillied fries
in the land of broad roads and houses scraping the frosting off the sky
a handshake.

In my country we would startle,
our heartbeat would stop for three seconds
and we'd ponder the flux of reality change.
The Swedish language have special honored
expressions for the middle road,
mediocrity and just the right amount.
Temperance is sacred and love is divided in two:
to love (the verb); el-skar
and love itself; kar-lek
because something as huge as love can't share
vowel and noun constellation
with the shifty act of human affection.

Our way through life is a restrained march
with few cherries on top,
like the old coot crying on his wifes funeral
and bursting out in emotional tremble:
She was such a hard worker!

And here I am, surrounded by love
and I want to say:
yesyes, but...
is it a dragon and Cancer-conquering kind of love?
or an "I'll share your chewing gum" kind of love?
Would that be:
I'll love you even if you grow bald and fat?
or
Your panties are so hott in that picture in your blog!

Or maybe it's like The World Spirit that has blown
into billions of pieces
and each piece is a love
like my mom whom I barely can stand,
dogs and cats and chillied fries and strangers
on the Internet.

With these crumbs itching all over me
I just know that I'll never make the cake whole
maybe it's better the American way.
If I practice in front of the mirror
like a poet speaking her piece:
I luv U
I may one day be sitting
in one of those big booty, grease-hair Mustangs
on a broad assed highway, on my way
to the Big Ease.

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