The Choir Boys
Förlåt, jag förstår inte.
Sorry, I don’t understand.
This phrase sums up so much more of my experience in Sweden than simply my reply when asked questions exceeding my limited Swedish skills. Instead it’s an expression of complete bewilderment that exceeds Alice’s ‘curiouser and curiouser’.
For example, I’ve joined a student men’s choir. Choral singing is one of the most popular past-times in Sweden, so it seemed like a good cultural experience, as well as a way to meet some Swedes rather than the fellow exchange students I mostly meet. I know enough Swedish to get along in rehearsals and music is a universal language anyway. Well, so I thought.
The choir is called Korgossarna, which means ‘the choir boys’. ‘It’s so strange to me that you’re called “Korgossarna”’, says my Swedish corridor-mate. ‘“Gossar” [boys] is kind of an old-fashioned word that makes me think of a dirty old man saying “Mmm, more boys!”’. Great. Should I be on the look-out for paedophiles lurking around our concerts? Perhaps this is why we use the term Mänskören (the men’s choir) more often.
As it turns out our greatest fans seem to be shrieking Swedish girls. I feel like Paul McCartney!
Recently we had a Mössbyte (changing of the caps). Part of our choir uniform is a studentmössa (student cap) which is a white hat that students receive upon finishing secondary school and traditionally worn by students at some Nordic universities, though today usually only on special occasions. In Sweden they come in two styles, the Uppsala and the Lund, associated with the country’s two oldest (and rival) universities. The white studentmössa is only worn from 30 April (when there’s a huge multi-day party to celebrate the arrival of spring: report to follow) to the end of September.
Our choir has a black version of the student cap to wear the rest of the year, hence the cap-changing party. This consisted of a traditionally Swedish meal of pea soup (with Dijon mustard and thyme) and waffles (with jam and whipped cream), beer and punsch (a sweet liqueur served warm), and a fair bit of singing. Nothing too strange about that, except it was all in full concert dress of tailcoat, vest, tuxedo shirt, white bow-tie and student cap.
At the same time as our supper there was a dinner for former members of Västgöta Nation, the student club that Korgossarna is a part of, and we went and entertained them during their dessert.
Then we left the Västgöta castle and started walking along the street, singing and waving the choir’s flag. A couple girls were outside having a smoke. ‘Please, come in and sing “Må hon leva” (the Swedish birthday song) for our friend’, they begged. So in we went, down to a mediaeval-looking cellar where there was a fancy birthday party and sang a serenade, kneeling in a circle around the surprised and delighted birthday girl.
Then we left and continued our walk to the park where, beside a statue of a former inspektor of Västgöta Nation, we met the old geezers from the dinner, sang a couple of songs, had a speech and finally changed from the white to black caps. Thus ended summer in the student year.
Now that it was officially winter we walked back towards the nation’s building. It was cold and dark. Up ahead a group of people in the street were holding up traffic. Some sort of protest or mob, perhaps? No, wait, it’s a group of people holding hands and dancing in a circle. And singing. Men in black suits with matching ties. What could only be a men’s choir. As we drew closer they encircled us, dancing and singing, and those of our choir who knew the song joined in. Then they danced off into the night and the presumably frustrated drivers sped off through the newly cleared street.
Where in the world do two men’s choirs in full concert dress walk into each other in the middle of the night and have an impromptu song and dance routine in the middle of the street?
This is the strangest place in the world.
Jag förstår inte.
Top Left : Swedish Montage 2
Below: Mössa and heather
No comments:
Post a Comment