Places that Fit and Places that Don’t

Sometimes a place fits. And sometimes it doesn’t. But you never really know for sure until you try it on.

Countries are, apparently, a lot like shoes. Sometimes they’re cute and loved by everyone you know, yet when you give them a go, you find yourself just a bit uncomfortable in them. Other times they can seem pretty average on first glance, but before you know it they’re the only ones for you and you can’t believe you ever found them anything but amazing.

I’ve had both experiences. I love Greece. I love the beauty of the islands. I love the spirit of the people. I even came to embrace the chaos. But as much as I long to go back there—to stuff gyros into my face all day long, to sit for hours at a cafe in the heart of Athen’s messiness, to hop the next ferry to whatever island—Greece doesn’t really fit me. We’re not opposites that attract in a pleasant, lifelong way. We’re opposites that find each other startlingly attractive, rush into a crazy affair, and then crash and burn in a fiery display. We never live up to each others’ expectations. We’re both forever trying to change the other. We are star-crossed.

Germany, I also love. It’s not nearly as showy as Greece, not as striking in its beauty, not as tempting in its offerings. It’s the land of fairy tales…but the Grimm brother versions, not the Disney versions. When you tell people you’re going to Germany, you don’t get the same sighs of longing as you get when you say you’re going to Greece. But Germany, well, it gets me. It’s solid and reliable. I know what to expect from it, I know how to behave with it. And every so often, it surprises me with some small delight, nothing big, nothing flashy for sure, but just a little something to keep me satisfied. I could grow old with Germany.

Yes, yes, I know…shoes, romantic partners…I’m mixing all kinds of metaphors in here. So I guess I’ll just go ahead and get to my point, which is that Sweden fits me.

From the moment I’ve arrived—and I commented on this to Jeff after my first day here—it’s felt surprisingly normal. It’s as if I’ve been here before (which, indeed, I have but it was for just a quick couple of days of being a tourist). I slipped in easily, a strange kind of familiarity surrounding me. Perhaps it’s the fact that our apartment reminds me of my dorm room in Germany. Or maybe it’s because in its weather patterns and its location on the water it feels like Seattle, which I’ve gotten used to over the past years. Or maybe it’s because I can recognize enough of the language, thanks to the similarities with German, to know what everything is at the grocery store, to read menus and store signs, to check bus schedules, to apologize to someone for not speaking the language when they assume that I can. I’m sure it’s a combination of factors, but the fact is that Sweden just works for me. I feel at home walking its streets, stopping in its cafes, shopping in its stores, and just moving through the simple ordinary acts of living. It’s a place that I’d feel comfortable adding to my “List of Places I can Live When Hell Truly Freezes Over and John McCain Wins the Election.” (Although I think I’d have to run off and have a torrid affair with Greece every winter…but, really, I think that wouldn’t be so terrible.)

Anyhow, what about you? What places feel like a natural fit to you and what places never fit right no matter how hard you try to make them? What countries would be on your own personal version of the hell freezing over list?