Ashes & Memories
Apr. 5th, 2003 02:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kribbanOne of the first restaurant visits I remember was to a restaurant called "Svea". It was in sixth grade and my class had organized a school disco. I was really scared of going, I didn't know how to dance and I was afraid of loud music. It was on 20 March 1992 and that night a christian teenage girl had the first of many encounters with an angel which would cause a stir in the following months. Of coure, this has nothing to do with what I'm about to tell you, but it's the reason I remember the date.
I was nervous at first and tried to occupy myself with selling candy but once my candy selling time was up my friends dragged me out on the dance floor and I was forced to dance. I couldn't dance for the life of me, but I did it anyway! And I was completely sober, as were all the kids, seeing as we were all twelve years old or younger. My father was there as a chaperone and he would just go into the cafeteria every once in a while and shake his head at the loud and horrible (to him) music. (He was 56 then.)
They played all the hit songs of the spring of 1992. "Stockholm" and "Smells Like Teen Spirit" come to mind. The DJs were two fifteen year old boys with their own equipment and a rented smoke machine, and they played each hit song at least three times during the course of the evening. Every time Smells Like Teen Spirit was played the Really Cool but Small Guys that spent the night standing around talking would scream and run out to the dance floor and jump up and down. When the song had finished playing they would return to their place and talk some more.
For me, it was a really magical evening and the loud music and smoke and lights really moved me. It was just like watching a film for me. When they played the hit ballads towards the end (I can't remember what they were but they must have been "Stay" and "You") I stood against a wall and imagined a romantic ending to a film about classmates growing up. What can I say, I spent my youth up in the clouds. The disco ended 11 or 12 pm, I know, because my mom recorded "P.S. I love you" which was the show we always watched on Fridays. (Connie Sellecca as a black-haired prostitute turned PI.)
We raised about 1800 SEK on the disco (after some people had added a few coins) and decided to spend them on a restaurant. A real, honest-to-god restaurant - not like McDonalds or the local grill (though to me, those were pretty rare and luxurious as well which had nothing to do with money as much as my parents attitudes). It turned out that the chef that had run the school's cafeteria in the fourth grade and had served us such strange and odd treats as chicken with peanuts and banana (what can I say? I wasn't particularly worldly as a child) had since started a restaurant with his brother in the old Folkets Hus house.
For those of you who don't know, Folkets Hus is kind of a community centre. A publicly funded, non-religious, non-political "people's house" where they arrange courses, lectures and cultural events. In small towns it also serves as a movie theatre. The only time I ever paid for theatre tickets was during radio school when the class went and saw a show called "Art" with 70 year old chick magnet Sven Wollter at the Folkets Hus in Kalix.
The house that Svea resided in however, had long since been abandoned by Folkets Hus. It was a beautiful hundred year old wooden building. The chef, Dick, had opened it just for us. It was exciting to feel all adult. We took the bus into the city core and I followed a few girls I knew. We walked around, looking through stores and the big shopping mall. It's stupid I know, but I felt so grown-up. I didn't find my way through town so I just followed the girls. A twenty year old man with butt-length hair walked past us and we all giggled and talked about how he was trying to flirt with one of us. I seriously doubt he had any interest in us...
Dick, dressed like a proper chef with the white hat and all, was very polite and treated us like real, adult dinner guests. We were seated along a long table and got salad and bread with little packages of butter. We had chosen our dinner weeks before and I was worried that maybe I had chosen the wrong course. I still remember what it was! We had our pick between sausage and potato gratin, pasta with some sauce and schnitzel with french fries. I need not have worried - the schnitzel and the fries were perfect.
I liked the way the house smelled and looked. It had an old pub feeling to it, with dark wooden walls and ceiling. Where we were seated it felt like we were secluded from the rest of the place in that cozy way but we still saw everything. There were framed pictures of old movie stars on the walls and I was totally amazed by how cool it was. Even the bathroom looked nice! I felt very exhillerated and very adult.
Dick then served us the dessert: real vanilla ice-cream with exotic fruits (most of which I had never tasted) stylishly decorated all over the plate. We ate, we loved it. Maybe it's just that first restaurant visit that seems magical no matter where it is, but for me, the visit at Svea has served as a reminder of how good restaurant visits should be for these past eleven years. I always thought I would go back there but I never did, and then one day Svea ceased to be and a pub called O'Leary's took over instead, no doubt doing a great job.
This Wednesday night, the house burned down. It was a complete success for the arsonist, only the foundation remains. It took the firefighters 24 hours to put out the fire. The newspapers have been filled with people's memories of the old building, but I thought I'd write mine here instead. The people of Luleå are more sad than fearful, although this is the third attack by the arsonist. Exactly two weeks before, an apartment building on Hertsön, the community where I grew up, was burned down. One week later another apartment building in Hertsön was burned down. And then... this. The Luleå authorities have put 11 policemen on the case, hoping to crack it until next Wednesday. Maybe the arsonist has a problem with Wednesdays? Maybe he has a problem with Luleå? I just wish he could have left that house alone.
I was nervous at first and tried to occupy myself with selling candy but once my candy selling time was up my friends dragged me out on the dance floor and I was forced to dance. I couldn't dance for the life of me, but I did it anyway! And I was completely sober, as were all the kids, seeing as we were all twelve years old or younger. My father was there as a chaperone and he would just go into the cafeteria every once in a while and shake his head at the loud and horrible (to him) music. (He was 56 then.)
They played all the hit songs of the spring of 1992. "Stockholm" and "Smells Like Teen Spirit" come to mind. The DJs were two fifteen year old boys with their own equipment and a rented smoke machine, and they played each hit song at least three times during the course of the evening. Every time Smells Like Teen Spirit was played the Really Cool but Small Guys that spent the night standing around talking would scream and run out to the dance floor and jump up and down. When the song had finished playing they would return to their place and talk some more.
For me, it was a really magical evening and the loud music and smoke and lights really moved me. It was just like watching a film for me. When they played the hit ballads towards the end (I can't remember what they were but they must have been "Stay" and "You") I stood against a wall and imagined a romantic ending to a film about classmates growing up. What can I say, I spent my youth up in the clouds. The disco ended 11 or 12 pm, I know, because my mom recorded "P.S. I love you" which was the show we always watched on Fridays. (Connie Sellecca as a black-haired prostitute turned PI.)
We raised about 1800 SEK on the disco (after some people had added a few coins) and decided to spend them on a restaurant. A real, honest-to-god restaurant - not like McDonalds or the local grill (though to me, those were pretty rare and luxurious as well which had nothing to do with money as much as my parents attitudes). It turned out that the chef that had run the school's cafeteria in the fourth grade and had served us such strange and odd treats as chicken with peanuts and banana (what can I say? I wasn't particularly worldly as a child) had since started a restaurant with his brother in the old Folkets Hus house.
For those of you who don't know, Folkets Hus is kind of a community centre. A publicly funded, non-religious, non-political "people's house" where they arrange courses, lectures and cultural events. In small towns it also serves as a movie theatre. The only time I ever paid for theatre tickets was during radio school when the class went and saw a show called "Art" with 70 year old chick magnet Sven Wollter at the Folkets Hus in Kalix.
The house that Svea resided in however, had long since been abandoned by Folkets Hus. It was a beautiful hundred year old wooden building. The chef, Dick, had opened it just for us. It was exciting to feel all adult. We took the bus into the city core and I followed a few girls I knew. We walked around, looking through stores and the big shopping mall. It's stupid I know, but I felt so grown-up. I didn't find my way through town so I just followed the girls. A twenty year old man with butt-length hair walked past us and we all giggled and talked about how he was trying to flirt with one of us. I seriously doubt he had any interest in us...
Dick, dressed like a proper chef with the white hat and all, was very polite and treated us like real, adult dinner guests. We were seated along a long table and got salad and bread with little packages of butter. We had chosen our dinner weeks before and I was worried that maybe I had chosen the wrong course. I still remember what it was! We had our pick between sausage and potato gratin, pasta with some sauce and schnitzel with french fries. I need not have worried - the schnitzel and the fries were perfect.
I liked the way the house smelled and looked. It had an old pub feeling to it, with dark wooden walls and ceiling. Where we were seated it felt like we were secluded from the rest of the place in that cozy way but we still saw everything. There were framed pictures of old movie stars on the walls and I was totally amazed by how cool it was. Even the bathroom looked nice! I felt very exhillerated and very adult.
Dick then served us the dessert: real vanilla ice-cream with exotic fruits (most of which I had never tasted) stylishly decorated all over the plate. We ate, we loved it. Maybe it's just that first restaurant visit that seems magical no matter where it is, but for me, the visit at Svea has served as a reminder of how good restaurant visits should be for these past eleven years. I always thought I would go back there but I never did, and then one day Svea ceased to be and a pub called O'Leary's took over instead, no doubt doing a great job.
This Wednesday night, the house burned down. It was a complete success for the arsonist, only the foundation remains. It took the firefighters 24 hours to put out the fire. The newspapers have been filled with people's memories of the old building, but I thought I'd write mine here instead. The people of Luleå are more sad than fearful, although this is the third attack by the arsonist. Exactly two weeks before, an apartment building on Hertsön, the community where I grew up, was burned down. One week later another apartment building in Hertsön was burned down. And then... this. The Luleå authorities have put 11 policemen on the case, hoping to crack it until next Wednesday. Maybe the arsonist has a problem with Wednesdays? Maybe he has a problem with Luleå? I just wish he could have left that house alone.
