My First Swedish Research

Apparently, this is just a window. A typical Swedish window, without curtains, the Romanian would say. But to me, it is more than that. It is the object of my research since I came here.

This window is vis-a vis the bus stop Fatbursgatan from which I take the bus every day. Since the first morning I noticed an old man ("en gubbe" how the Sweds say) getting into the kitchen at about 9 o'clock, taking a pack of coffe from a cupboard, a cup from another, a spoon from another and making his own coffe at the cooker.

Next morning around the same hour I find myself in the same bus stop, in front of the same window. The old man reappears, and does the caffe ritual precisely the same. And I am not exagerating when I call it a ritual, since he does things in the same manner every single day, at the same hour: same cup, spoon, coffe, chair, table, movements, facial expression.

And I followed him as a spy for 6 mornings and nothing was different... or maybe I was the only one different, every day in a diferent mood of contentment...