A couple of the Swedish kids I tutor are nine-year-old boys. This means that they are far beyond me in all video/computer game knowledge, even with their limited English. When discussing video games, their voices speed up, their eyes brighten, and their hands start gesturing.
They introduced me to Steam (not 'Stream' which I, understandably, thought they were saying), and explained their love for Half Life, Oblivion, and various other sequeled games (Dark City 4?). I tend to be fairly unenthused about any gaming, mostly because I'm terrible at everything except Tetris, but also because it doesn't seem like the healthiest of addictions for little boys. However, these boys also have other hobbies (they love reading), and it's hard to condemn something that brings so much excitement into their faces. I did make an attempt at addressing the possible violence exposure.
"So do you guys use guns in these games?"
They looked at each other in a half 'what planet is this lady from,' half 'I can't wait to answer this question' way.
"Yes! In lots of them. In '.....' and '....' and '.....' "
"Maybe you should go around hugging instead of shooting. Or giving flowers." (Yes, I tease. I'm so cool.)
"But...we kill Zombies."
"Oh. Well I guess that's OK then." Really, there isn't any other way to deal with Zombies.
**
In my experience, Swedes have odd taste in American media. Ammadeus tells me that the kids at her school constantly sing Toto and other random old bands. The radio stations keep us entertained by playing Dusty Springfield, Billy Idol, Gnarls Barkley, Guns&Roses; all in a row.
My kids have funky movie taste too. Their list of favorites include Men in Black, Star Trek, Star Wars, I Robot, I am Legend, Ace Ventura Pet Detective, and the Scooby Doo movies.
**
Life Advice: Don't take public transportation home at midnight on the night of a Beer and Whiskey Festival in Sweden. Piles of puke. Stumbling, staggering, sickly people.
A mid 30's pale man with curly blond hair, glasses, zigzagged his way toward me and sat down too close, mumbling something in Swedish.
I smiled and shrugged until it became clear he expected an answer. We switched to English – he was fairly incoherent, but this might have been his extreme intoxication, not his language abilities.
"I'm so stupid," he looked distressed.
"Oh." I tried to sound sympathetic as I put a few more inches between us. I don't mind having these conversations as long as they maintain a certain distance.
"I only listen to my own things."
"Ah. That's alright."
"Nooo. I am so – " he said a foreign word I didn't recognize. I looked blankly at him.
"You are not Russian?"
"No," I shrugged. "American."
He spent the rest of our conversation trying to convince me that we were the same age (I denied), and telling me that he liked music. Just...music.
"You are...nice," he leaned to touch my arm. I stood up. "My train is here."
"Sorry!" He called after me.
I got home and told Ammadeus the story. She said I should have gotten his number and texted him in the morning about all the stupid things he had said. I think that would have been 1) harsh or 2) completely ineffective. (ie he would have found it funny.)
**
"Lady Gaga sings strange songs, but she doesn't wear many clothes." Tristan (age 9). Quite well put.
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