The Goat Rodeo

When things started getting chaotic, my cousin liked to say that things were turning into a goat Rodeo. Awkwardly enough, it was a very fitting table because he owned one of the last genetic offsprings of pure Swedish goats, insofar that he had the largest farm of them in the world. Things really started getting chaotic when I was trying to figure out how I was getting to and from places in northern Sweden.

My second morning in Bjästa, I met a liberal Christian pastor and talked to him about anything and everything. 

Visiting the kids at school, learning lessons in Swedish, having cultural studies for the first time in 12 years, and the homecooked feast that they had for lunch were the highlights of my daytime activities.

Later that night, in town, I noticed kids opening and drinking a six pack of beer just outside of the local ICA market. I shirked it off and went to Sibylla, a Nordic fast food restaurant, and got some more fast food.

My travels in Sweden were definitely crazy, but even with the goat rodeo that had occurred for some of the trip, I thoroughly enjoyed seeing what a Swedish school system looks like in the small-town countryside.