An address at aliens' street

I am back, in (never really been out of) black. This time I come with stories, and news about news.

The first story entails a change in address, I moved from the 'kollektiv' in Sollentuna to another one in south west Stockholm, 15 minutes by tube to work, 5 minutes to the lively south side, and best of all, in the heart of aliens street, otherwise known as FRÄMLINGSVÄGEN.

In a red-brick building, I live here with Luis, a famous Tango singer - jazz drummer, originally from Chile, who fled to Sweden in the 70s as a political activist against the dictatorship of the infamous Pinochett. With us is also Rodrigo, a younger man who will leave his room at the end of this month to a woman from south sweden.

One month after I moved to the big city, I am beginning to create traditions: cheap afterwork drinks at Kelly's in Södermalm - cheap beer, great hard rock music. On Tuesdays, I pack up my drum sticks for an evening at Wirstrom's in the old city. This place is a bakery turned pub, and in the cellar there is open blues jam nights where any musician can walk in and jam with others while people watch, brilliant and engaging idea, and a hell lot of fun too... I get to play live every tuesday, no training or anything, just being as spontaneous as one could be! Last tuesday, Derrick, presenter, singer and harmonica player, had a hard time making the song end. He looked at me angrily during the jam and shouted 'How do you get this song to end, you're having too much fun, aren't you?'

Surely, I was.

The singer at that particular jam demanded we play 'Summertime', after the jam was over, she asked where I was from, Jordan, I said. Then she laughed, Israel, she said. So there you go, music brought us together, again.

Over and out... hugs from the capital of love, lust, heaven and hell.