Timbuktu

My first day of work went pretty well. Going around setting up advertisements around the resort and changing over signs in ski racks etc. Not the most glamorous job in the world but it was pretty cruisey and a good way to meet everyone. After work the ski school has an afterski set up at the Holiday club which was pretty sweet and it was there that the first of the English Fridays took off. It was such a relief to be able to be myself once again instead of the constantly looking and thinking introvert I am in Swedish social situations as my brain computes what the hell is going on around me. It was funny to see the fear in some peoples' eyes when I greeting people in English over breakfast - now they know how I feel! It served to separate people into those who are brave and want to practice and those who are embarrassed and suddenly go silent.

We all headed back to Klappen for a sauna (about my 5th in a week) and some beers before we headed out to the Timbuktu concert.

A bunch of people from one of the other staff housing places came over and brought with them a random guy from Sydney who had just arrived looking for work. He made me feel a hell of a lot more sane: he speaks no Swedish and has no job lined up - he is also the only other non-swede I have met in Are.

It was a pretty crazy night all in all. A ski season wouldn't be complete without me hurting myself in a stupid way so I thought I would break one of the bones in my hand by slapping Jocke on the ass with a glove right as he put his elbow back. I also lost my phone and almost got arrested as I got into a fight with some drunken dude who insisted that his father built a couple of plant things on the side of the road. Thankfully Jocke pulled me away before the police ran over to see what the commotion was all about. At least with a broken hand I can still ski!

Funnily enough, despite all the misfortune that I encountered it was a good night and thoroughly helped to make me feel at home with the people around me.