OPINION

Skellefteå for dummies

Quite a few years ago, I wrote a report about Skellefteå and a stubborn reputation: It was difficult to become part of the city for those who were not born here and had at least seven lines of ancestors who also lived here and of course were called Marklund and Lundmark.

But was it true? I interviewed a bunch of people with different backgrounds and varying experiences and came to some conclusions.

1. People in Skellefteå assume that, in the eyes of others, everything is probably better somewhere else than here. In other words, they cannot imagine that they have anything worthwhile to offer, even though they like it here.
2. The people of Skellefteå are curious, but terrified of appearing intrusive - unless it is a matter of kinship. It is seen as a matter of course to clarify any connections.
3. Skellefteå residents are guided by the motto that goodness is doing quietly what others say out loud.

A lot has happened since then. With the attention, confidence in the future and forward-looking spirit generated not least by the battery factory and Sara Kulturhus, the residents here have begun to stretch themselves. It is much anticipated and I am sure that it is also reflected in the reception of new Skellefteå residents who have come here from all corners of the world and thrived. If you ask me what the worst thing about Northvolt's bankruptcy was, it's not that it risked being a death blow for Skellefteå, but that we had to say goodbye to fantastic people who fell in love with the place and who now did not get a chance to become a permanent part of it. We were deprived of a potentially huge capital of new beneficial influences.

But things are looking up again and there is every indication that we will get another chance to make a first impression. I hope we take it. But if you're reading this and thinking about moving here, or have recently done so, there are a few things you might want to know.

Let's start with the most important thing: There's a kind of ingrained friendliness here. Not the pushy, American version of "have a nice day" left and right, but more down to earth. Skellefteå residents help you pull your car out of the snowdrift without blinking. They shovel for the neighbor, carry home the grocery bags or fix the cord to the engine heater - and demand nothing in return. But, hey! Don't think you'll automatically be invited to dinner that night. Modesty is stronger than the hospitality gene. You need to give it some time.

Want to blend in quickly? Then there are certain codes. Like knowing that "pancakes" means pancakes, period. So, don't even try. And to avoid booking meetings at the same time as Skellefteå AIK plays playoff hockey. And that everyone who has ever lived here has their own story about "Burk-Curt" or "Lill-Herman" - often told with great warmth.

Take your time. The city may not open up all at once, but when it does, you get more than just a postcode.

You will also notice that Skellefteå is full of more or less mythological places that are not always on any map: Templet (Skellefteå Kraft arena) and Etage (the nightclub that disappeared) are two clear examples. Understanding that the "Domus parking lot" no longer has anything to do with Domus can also be good to know. Ask about them in the coffee room - you'll hear tall tales, exaggerations and half-truths - but if you're in the City of Stories, you are.

So here's my advice: Take your time. The city may not open up all at once, but when it does, you get more than just a postcode. You get a community where people may grumble about the new name of the square, or that the referee blew the wrong whistle - but who will shovel your driveway when you're sick.

I'd like to think that's what makes Skellefteå special.

Text: Per Strömbro

Photo: Tilda Olofsgård