Culture Shock in My First Season Playing Professional BasketballI trudge through the snow to the restaurant I ate at yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. Being part of the Nassjo basketball team, I’m allowed to eat a free meal every day from the restaurant. They have white table cloths, a salad bar, and a buffet in the back. Being 6’6” and hungry, nothing can beat this place.
I eat as I listen to some new music on my iPod, soaking in the sights and sounds around me. At a table nearby there are a few businessmen speaking Swedish. At another table, there’s an elderly couple. I realize that it doesn’t matter if I’m in Chicago, Maine, New Jersey, or Sweden, people live similar lives, only in different locations. Once I finish eating, I get up and leave. Freddy told me that there’s no reason to tip, and it’s not encouraged. It’s actually slightly disrespectful here, so I don’t leave any money. I walk back to the apartment with plans to travel to Jonkoping to bring back some library books. Getting to Jonkoping is easy and it’s a respite from the monotony of Nassjo. It’s only about twenty minutes away, and as the train pulls into the station the huge lake appears outside the window. Swedish houses dot the valley bordering the lake, forming a ‘V’ shape with the point at the train station. There’s snow on the ground and it’s quite beautiful. This was how I Felt Culture Shock in My First Season Playing Professional Basketball |
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