familiar strangers

We all recognize them. They are the people that we see regularly but have never met. They could be the guy that waits on the platform with you every morning, or the little old lady who shuffles across the street outside your window. For most of us, these people belong to our private sphere. However, there are always the familiar strangers recognized by a neighborhood, or even a city at large.

Stockholm has its own recognizable characters. We finally saw the "naked" man recently, although I think it's still too warm for him to have made his debut appearance. He's the squat guy with a full beard and wild brown hair that walks around Stockholm downtown in just a pair of shorts. He's most active when it's -10. He roams Kungsträdgården, Drottninggatan and likely Stureplan, though I've never seen him there. I find it rather funny that we never see him in the middle of the summer. Perhaps that's when he's dressed in winter clothes, or perhaps he migrates.

The same day we saw naked man, I saw the "challenged" guy who sells Bingo Lotto tickets. He has crossed eyes. He has a few regular spots. This time he was on Drottning gatan just between the two entrances of PUB. Other times you find him in the underground passageway between Central Station and the subway station.

As I was contemplating two sightings of familiar strangers up walks Camaroon man. He's the black guy that patrols the subways selling postcards and music from Camaroon. He says that the proceeds will be sent to schools in Camaroon. I somehow have a suspicion that this is his job and the proceeds support Camaroon man. He was on his way into PUB. I wonder if he was shopping for Camaroonian (sp?) orphans or his own needs.

I haven't seen the other Bingo Lotto guy in a while. He's the one in a wheelchair. He is usually in the passageway under Central Station. Perhaps the two regulars have worked out an agreement to not encroach on each other's turf.

Johan once found a nearly empty wallet. The money was gone but there was an ID in it. It was the guy in the wheelchair's. Since we recognized him, instead of dropping it off at the police station, Johan delivered it to him personally. Funnily enough, you'd think I would have remembered his name. I guess I wanted him to remain a familiar stranger. Knowing his name would remove the stranger status.

autumn morning dip

I watched the man dive from the kayaker's dock on Reimers this morning on the dagis run. Johan wore gloves this morning: that means the mercury was below 10 celcius. Brrrr.

In an unSwedish manner I asked how it was and the temperature suggesting 15. The guess was about 13. Brrrr.

He must of lingered a bit since he was in his bathrobe as I bicycled back home. He couldn't suggest a minimum temperature where his limits kept him from swimming, but a date. November 16. There wasn't time to ask the date's significance, but Swedes are like that, a date will set a limit rather than an iceberg. He did offer that the spring was chillier.

Apparently there's a start date too. I wonder what that date is and if he's ever had to bring a chainsaw to break up the ice.