Of frozen prawns, fake orgasms and the Dalai Lama

This week we celebrated the Swedish National Day which is also the Day of the Pickled Herring. After 500 years the Swedes have not really defined themselves as a nation and have not learned how to commemorate nationality. These things take time and can not be speeded up by anything except maybe a war or a mass murder. The last war was 200 years ago and the last mass murder happened recently but in the country next door. One can correctly assume that the Swedes are a peace loving nation, and so was my third husband.

We met on a skiing holiday in Switzerland and when I watched him through the bottom of a bottle of red wine I liked what I saw.

When it was time for my 40th birthday I decided to soften the blow by majestically sweeping down the aisle in a white dress. Writing about my third wedding reminded me of an old joke.What is the difference between a Jewish woman and and an Afrikaans woman? A Jewish woman wears real jewellery and has fake orgasms. The dress and a lot of fake silver jewellery was bought at an Indian shop in down town Pietermaritzburg.

After a while the birthday and the white dress was forgotten and the marriage and the silver jewellery began to tarnish. I was getting really bored. Husband number three never talked and never showed emotion. Being married to him was like seeing a movie without the sound track.

I would be met with the same response whether I asked him to pass the salt or whether I told him that the man next door had just killed his wife and that her blood was running into my gin and tonic.

His facial expressions would vary from that of a frozen prawn to that of a frozen prawn. Albeit an attractive frozen prawn.

I never felt special because he would treat everybody the same. No difference if you were to be the taxi driver, the cashier, the next door neighbour, his mother, the Dalai Lama, a beggar on the street, the cleaning lady, the pope or me. This would work excellently if you were Jesus or Mother Theresa but not in a marriage to an attention seeking creature like me.

I asked for a divorce and he said nothing.

Now I need something to soften the blow of my looming 50th birthday. I don't know what I will do yet but I do know that herrings are not happy on national day.

Of pigs, parasites and plastic bags

‘Men at a conference will fuck anything, even a pig’. This is not the famous words of Oscar Wilde, but a rather typical statement of my second ex-husband. That could be one of the reasons why he has that title.

Scientists tells us that philandering is wired into our genes. It is a natural force in all living species. Even pigs. There is only one monogamous species, which is a parasite in fish intestines called Diplozoon Paradoxum. The reason why they stay together is because the male and female fuse together during adolescence and have to stay like that until death do them part.

My second marriage started at the Perseverance Tavern in Cape Town, ten years and more than ten boyfriends after the first one. This time it was a 1.97cm sexy blonde Swede. It was not long before I walked down the aisle again. We didn’t have money for a church organist so my sister carried a musical wedding card with an electronic version of Wagner's wedding march behind us. The priest was not impressed but he realised that this wasn’t the royal wedding and a few minutes later the new bride was kissed.

Ten months later and heavily pregnant the alliance bought me to Sweden where the big adventure and big nightmare of life as an ex pat on a freezing sub-continent started. By now the 1.97m Swede had lost most of his sex appeal. Money issues were dire.

When the first birth pains started, the proud grandfather to be gave us 100 Swedish Kronor for a taxi fare home. A child was born. The 1.97cm Swede thought it was a much better idea to use the 100 Swedish Kronor for alcoholic beverages. It was in the middle of the summer and maybe he was thirsty. Prams were also not a part of his beliefs. Thus the baby was carried home by bus in a plastic Pep Stores bag (systembolagspåse). Needless to say, the new mother was not too impressed. Not long afterwards I found myself single again.

The past week I spent at our annual Nordic MRI conference and as usual I looked around for telltales of extracurricular activities and pigs. Of the former there were plenty. But pigs? Only bacon on the breakfast buffet. The salami were hidden.