Today, as I was driving towards downtown Stockholm, and admiring the Old Town skyline, two thoughts entered my brain at the same time. Maybe three.
One, I was thinking that I have to tell my wife that Gamla Stan, the Old Town, is really beautiful and that we should probably move there.
Two, I was wondering why I always have to tell people where I was when I was thinking about something. It’s not that important, or even unusual that I think.
And three – and I just realize I’m listing the thoughts in reverse order, because this was the one I was thinking about as I was admiring the Old town – I was wondering if my children, one part Finnish, one part Swedish, will grow up to be Swedish, or Stockholmian first (and whether most people identify with the city first, and country second).
And naturally, I was thinking about that because I, born Finnish in Helsinki, am starting to feel at home in Stockholm. This city is Sweden to me. I don’t feel particularly Swedish, but a Stockholmian? Yes. In the last six months, I’ve found myself hesitating when people ask me where I come from. “Well, I came here from Stockholm, but I’m a Finn” is my standard line.
I get to pick and choose.