
The light refuses to leave on Midsummer Eve — at ten o’clock the Swedish sky is still golden as grandparents, toddlers in flower crowns and teenagers who swore they would sit this one out all join hands around the birch-covered maypole. Then the fiddle strikes up the frog dance, everyone starts hopping and laughing at themselves, and a whole village feels like one big family at a long table of herring, new potatoes and strawberries. It is gentle, silly and deeply tender — and there’s no richer classroom than the one waiting when you Teach English in Sweden.









