I had a test today in my Swedish class. It was a writing test. Out of the two topics given, I chose, “Write an opinion letter to your local paper to either support or complain about an airport being built close to your house.”
It started out well. I discussed the stress of noise and recent studies on heart attacks related to traffic sounds. But I didn’t feel passionate enough to say much more about the matter. That’s when I started to write in the persona of an angry 90-year old woman. I complained that people shouldn’t travel and if they can’t get somewhere on a bike, then they should just stay home. I complained that the airport is full of teenagers and I didn’t want them being loud in my area. I complained that people waste money flying to far away places bringing back things like exotic bananas. Back in my day, we didn’t need these fancy bananas and neither do kids today! My friend, Marge, has never been out of Stockholm in her life and she’s quite happy, thank you. So not in my lawn! But if you want to build it across town, be my guest.
Now I just sit back and wait for my grade. I also wait for the verdict from the teachers. Do they think I’m funny, or will they quietly ask me to leave the classroom and take away all of my sharp items?
(By the way, the banana thing is based on my husband always telling me how Sweden didn’t have bananas when he was young.)