Graduation Swedish Style

After the ceremony at the school, all the students pile into the backs of dump trucks. There were 5 or so outside the school, decorated with banners and tree branches for some reason. The Johans, Anton, Liisa, and I changed our clothes and climbed into the back of one of the trucks with about 50 other students. Attached to the front of the ''dump'' part of the truck were two 3 foot-tall speakers, precariously secured with packing tape. On the bed of the truck, 1200 cans of beer--to be poured on each other. They hadn't yet picked up the other 500 cans for drinking.

Anton, being the kind friend that he is, immediately soaked me with beer. For the first time in my life I experienced beer in my eyes, and in other orphuses as well. Then the speakers started blaring "Call On Me," and many more of the loudest techno songs I have ever experienced. I am positive that this event has permanently altered my hearing, as certain tones have sounded strangely discordant since then. At this point people started jumping around, dancing, yelling, and continued to douse everyone around them with beer. Then the trucks started up and we drove into the city.

This was one of the most unique experiences of my life. We drove around Stockholm for 2-3 hours, everyone drenched in beer and dancing and yelling. And let me tell you, it's tuff to dance on the back of a moving vehicle. Every time we'd stop or accelerate somebody was falling over, but the truck was so full of people, there were usually people to catch you and/or crush. Being the incredibly coordinated man that I am, I did a lot of catching, but my knees were dying by the time we were done. Also, after an hour and a half, people were shivering and generally freezing cold. I tried to keep dancing and had some cider to keep myself warm, but there were a lot of people who were getting a little purple by the end.

When all this ended, my shoes were completely soaked with beer. The rest of my body wasn't soaked anymore though, it was caked. I had crusty beer everywhere! In my hair, on my legs, behind by ears, in my belly button, on my eye lids. I had a game that night too (I didn't drink that much) and didn't have time to shower, so Anton said he'd take me to a pool to rinse off. Turns out, that ''pool'' was as deep as the top of my ankle, and did very little to relieve my crustiness. Plus, the only other people using the "pool" were under the age of 2, and half were naked, so I probably just added other unwanted substances to my body. I had to get to my game though, so I got to the car, stripped down to a beater and my boxer-briefs, and drove to the field.

It was a somewhat nerve-racking drive to the field. I was late so I was speeding a bit, but I was just picturing myself getting pulled over. I would have passed any breathalyzer, but here I was driving in my underwear and reeking of booze. Luckily I made it to the field, although I still smelled like I had been drinking all day. Joaquin, the player coach of the day, greeted me and I explained what I had been doing, and that I wasn't drunk. His English is good but not great, so I don't know how much he understood. "Can you pitch?" he asked seriously. When I said, "Of course," he flashed me a big smile and replied, "Good." I feel like I could have shown up hammered with a beer in hand, and if I told him I could pitch I would have gotten the same reaction.

More on the game, and the final part of the traditional Swedish graduation soon.