Karina, Aurimar’s wife, is expecting. Not that her employers know – last time she was pregnant she got fired. She told me new mothers only stay home for three months, and then have to return to work. Considering a baby needs to breast-feed far longer than that, I find it surprising. All of a sudden I have a newfound appreciation for Sweden.
It gives a weird impression of being on a film-set, this tendency of only painting the front of houses. Sure, the first thing you notice can be pretty impressive, but as soon as you turn a corner, there it is – the ugly grey concrete. Churches in particular have specialized in this kind of aesthetics. I assume it’s a financial matter, as is the habit of painting the name of your shop/restaurant/hairdresser in a swirling font over the entrance, instead of a proper sign.
We found ourselves in a chapel between meetings, and Aurimar instantly got a choral inspiration, spontaneously composing a song containing only three words: “Linn is here!” In fact, the mood persisted and for the rest of the day he would only reply to you with an elaborate aria. Talking of singing, his bird (the poor thing) sometimes looses his voice, ending his phrases in falsetto, as if being fed up with life.