196 Kroner is about $33 at the current exchange rate. A medium pizza is a single serving pizza. This is a mid-range pizza place and on the lower end of restaurant prices.
Friday, February 27, 2009
The Price of Food
196 Kroner is about $33 at the current exchange rate. A medium pizza is a single serving pizza. This is a mid-range pizza place and on the lower end of restaurant prices.
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The Price of Alcohol
98 Kroner is about $16. These are regular sized drinks, they don't come in extra large glasses or with extra strong alcohol.
Norway has a huge problem with binge drinking. Actually, most people don't see it as a problem, "it's just the way it is." Daily drinking is considered a problem, but binge drinking is mostly thought of as a part of Norwegian culture. I don't think anyone thinks it's a good part of Norwegian culture, they just don't see it as inherently bad. It's quite bizarre to me that it's even acceptable to get black-out drunk at some corporate functions.
The main way the Norwegian government has tried to curb this behaviour is to raise the price of alcohol to exorbitant levels. The problem is that doesn't really work. Russia showed the world that doesn't work when they tried it for a time under Communism. It really only discourages people who aren't alcoholics from drinking. This is a country where literally everyone pays for the poor health choices of others since it has universal healthcare. One would think it would be in everyone's best interest to try something that works when it comes to the alcohol problem.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Lost In Translation
It's apparently a rather exclusive brand available in several European countries.
Stavanger: Epilogue
I spent nearly the entirety of that last Monday in my room. I was so tense and just ready to get out of the house. I decided to stay until they took me to the train station since the wife would be at work most of the day.
I spent the day writing a letter, I really needed some resolution in this situation. I didn't want it to sound angry, but I did have a few things to say. I recounted the previous 48 hours from my perspective, and said that while I couldn't apologise for what exactly I did I could apologise for the hurt and anger I caused. I never meant to cause any bad feelings. I also mentioned the good times I'd had working for their family.
My train left at 10 o'clock, but I told them it would be fine if they dropped me off sooner. They said they'd drop me off at 8:30, which turned into 8:00 which finally turned into 7:45. Fine, whatever. I really didn't want to be there any longer than I had to be anyway, and all I was doing was sitting in my room with a knot in my stomach.
The car ride was mostly silent, the wife made some small talk with me but that was it. After some awkward goodbyes, they left me at the train station. As the train pulled out of the station, the knot in my stomach finally started to subside. It was over.
On Tuesday, I received an email from the wife. She'd found my letter and decided I deserved an explanation after all. The email was long and rambling; I was accused of things like using up all the toilet paper "on purpose," still not doing enough work, not making enough of an effort to be part of the family, and secretly hating them. She felt I was pretending every time I was around them, and she "could see in my eyes" that I didn't want to be around them.
She didn't see that in my eyes, she saw that in my emails. She also mentioned that she overheard a conversation I'd had on Sunday about how they didn't like me because of my religion and wanted to assure me that wasn't true at all. The thing was, I never once said that because I don't feel that way. What she was referring to was a series of sarcastic instant messages my brother and I had exchanged.
Faking emotions is one thing I can't do. What I can do is separate people's actions from the people themselves. There were many good things about this family, and many things I enjoyed. I didn't just want to stay an extra week for a paycheck; I wanted to hear more of their stories, have more conversations, learn more about them and their culture. I chalked most of that Sunday up to irreconcilable cultural differences. The only thing I really judged them for was the racist comment, and that I considered to be a statement of ignorance and not a statement of hate.
Ultimately, the wife didn't want an au pair at all. She didn't want anyone living in the house and was looking for any excuse she could to justify getting rid of me. I think they also might have been looking for a surrogate daughter, and not just an English teacher. After my third day there they made numerous mentions of how I'm like a daughter and how we are a family. In my opinion, three days is a little to early for that unless that's what they were looking for from the beginning.
I spent the day writing a letter, I really needed some resolution in this situation. I didn't want it to sound angry, but I did have a few things to say. I recounted the previous 48 hours from my perspective, and said that while I couldn't apologise for what exactly I did I could apologise for the hurt and anger I caused. I never meant to cause any bad feelings. I also mentioned the good times I'd had working for their family.
My train left at 10 o'clock, but I told them it would be fine if they dropped me off sooner. They said they'd drop me off at 8:30, which turned into 8:00 which finally turned into 7:45. Fine, whatever. I really didn't want to be there any longer than I had to be anyway, and all I was doing was sitting in my room with a knot in my stomach.
The car ride was mostly silent, the wife made some small talk with me but that was it. After some awkward goodbyes, they left me at the train station. As the train pulled out of the station, the knot in my stomach finally started to subside. It was over.
On Tuesday, I received an email from the wife. She'd found my letter and decided I deserved an explanation after all. The email was long and rambling; I was accused of things like using up all the toilet paper "on purpose," still not doing enough work, not making enough of an effort to be part of the family, and secretly hating them. She felt I was pretending every time I was around them, and she "could see in my eyes" that I didn't want to be around them.
She didn't see that in my eyes, she saw that in my emails. She also mentioned that she overheard a conversation I'd had on Sunday about how they didn't like me because of my religion and wanted to assure me that wasn't true at all. The thing was, I never once said that because I don't feel that way. What she was referring to was a series of sarcastic instant messages my brother and I had exchanged.
Faking emotions is one thing I can't do. What I can do is separate people's actions from the people themselves. There were many good things about this family, and many things I enjoyed. I didn't just want to stay an extra week for a paycheck; I wanted to hear more of their stories, have more conversations, learn more about them and their culture. I chalked most of that Sunday up to irreconcilable cultural differences. The only thing I really judged them for was the racist comment, and that I considered to be a statement of ignorance and not a statement of hate.
Ultimately, the wife didn't want an au pair at all. She didn't want anyone living in the house and was looking for any excuse she could to justify getting rid of me. I think they also might have been looking for a surrogate daughter, and not just an English teacher. After my third day there they made numerous mentions of how I'm like a daughter and how we are a family. In my opinion, three days is a little to early for that unless that's what they were looking for from the beginning.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Stavanger: The Final Weekend
The week was uneventful. I did my best to be as accommodating as possible and enjoyed what little time I knew I had left. Either way, this wasn't going to last more than two weeks. I enjoyed hearing their life stories, I enjoyed the cooking and I enjoyed teaching English. The rest was just too much to overcome, I knew I'd be getting resentful all too quickly over the amount of work I was doing versus my pay and having my freedom greatly restricted.
Friday I was relieved when the wife said we needed to talk and told me that things just weren't working out. There were too many cultural differences. I was told I could stay an extra week and she would pay me and that there were no hard feelings. I told her how happy I was that she brought this up, that I was feeling the exact same way. I was very happy that things were going to end so well.
The next morning we all had breakfast, and afterwards they went to town for grocery shopping while I went to the library. We agreed I'd be home around two o'clock so we could make dinner. Everything seemed fine, I felt like I had a huge weight off my chest because now I didn't have to worry about ending this business relationship.
Then I came home.
It's like an arctic blast had come through the house. I went to work putting away the groceries and did my best to ignore the change in mood in the house. When I was putting away the groceries I notice that they only bought be one half-liter of milk and one bag of oatmeal. I asked for two because I eat two a week.
Hoping it was a mistake I ask the wife about this, to which she first replies "I thought you only asked for one." I'm now a little irritated, and remind her that we had to go by the store mid-week to get me more milk and oatmeal and that I had written "two" on the list.
Then she tells me, "Oh, well you're leaving soon anyway."
I knew that's what it was about. I don't know what happened in the hours I was gone, but I knew something had changed before I had even taken my shoes off. I still had to ask, "I thought you said you'd pay me to stay an extra week."
With a look that could kill and in a tone that said "no chance in hell" she said, "We'll talk about it."
I spent the rest of the day trying to be both invisible and available to help out. By evening time the mood in the house had thawed considerably, we had a good meal together and then a language lesson after. By the end of the language lesson we were all laughing so hard we had tears rolling down our faces. I went to bed that night thinking I must have completely misjudged the situation that day. The cold front that had moved through must not have been my fault.
Sunday I decided not to get up early for church service for two reasons. I wasn't 100% certain I'd satisfied my requirements for notification and I was also going to meet a couchsurfer after. Also, I'd have a long time between church and the meeting time. One church service in Norwegian wasn't going to kill me, and I thought it would be best to toe the line for however much time I had left.
I talked to the wife before I left, she was surprised I hadn't gone to church. I said that I'd overslept, but I'd be going to a later Norwegian service. We also talked about when I'd be home, I said I wasn't sure but I could call her when I knew. She said that wasn't necessary, she just needed to know if I'd be home for dinner. I said I wouldn't and offered again to text or call her. She said no, that was fine.
I came home around eight o'clock that night. As I was heating up the leftovers the wife had left out for me, the husband came in to the kitchen. He asked how my day was and we chatted for a bit. He then asked me if I had another job yet. Not wanting it to appear like I'd been job hunting since the exchange the previous Sunday, I told him I had some good prospective families instead of telling him that I'd already been hired by one.
I mentioned that I really did need that extra week of work we had talked about, but that the wife didn't seem to keen on the idea anymore. He said that I could stay another week only if it was absolutely necessary but they really needed me gone as soon as possible. I asked him what had changed since Friday, but he refused to tell me. He told me that I was destabilizing the family, and that the wife had collapsed on the floor in a fit of rage earlier that evening. I asked a second time, saying I really wanted to know and that it was important to me that I received an answer. He said it was something his wife would have to explain to me, but he didn't think it would be healthy for her to talk about it.
This is about the time the warning bells started going off in my head and I really started to feel unsafe. Friday we'd all been in agreement this wasn't working out and I'd be out of there soon, yet things were still escalating at an alarming pace. I had maybe exchanged two dozen words with the wife before I left and I was gone the entire day, appropriately prearranged. How I could have caused her to become apoplectic during my absence was beyond me.
I started suspecting on Saturday that they had been monitoring my email and instant messaging, and now I was nearly certain. It was just too strange that twice I'd been gone and during my absence something had enraged the wife so greatly. I had been venting via email to my friends and family about my living situation, of course I was. I was angry about the racism, being treated like a young teenager, working well over my 30 hours when I'd been promised I'd be working less.
I booked myself the earliest cheap train I could, which left Monday night. I knew I couldn't find a couchsurfer on such short notice to stay with, and I couldn't afford a hotel room which would have started at $200. I also knew that leaving in the middle of the night could possibly be the thing that tipped everything over the edge, and I risked losing all of my luggage if that happened. I reasoned that I probably wasn't in mortal danger, that the most I had to worry about was her coming into my room in the middle of the night and screaming at me. At any rate, I kept my cell phone with the police department's number near by and I stacked my suitcases against my bedroom door. I didn't go to sleep until after they went to sleep and I made sure I woke up before they did.
Friday I was relieved when the wife said we needed to talk and told me that things just weren't working out. There were too many cultural differences. I was told I could stay an extra week and she would pay me and that there were no hard feelings. I told her how happy I was that she brought this up, that I was feeling the exact same way. I was very happy that things were going to end so well.
The next morning we all had breakfast, and afterwards they went to town for grocery shopping while I went to the library. We agreed I'd be home around two o'clock so we could make dinner. Everything seemed fine, I felt like I had a huge weight off my chest because now I didn't have to worry about ending this business relationship.
Then I came home.
It's like an arctic blast had come through the house. I went to work putting away the groceries and did my best to ignore the change in mood in the house. When I was putting away the groceries I notice that they only bought be one half-liter of milk and one bag of oatmeal. I asked for two because I eat two a week.
Hoping it was a mistake I ask the wife about this, to which she first replies "I thought you only asked for one." I'm now a little irritated, and remind her that we had to go by the store mid-week to get me more milk and oatmeal and that I had written "two" on the list.
Then she tells me, "Oh, well you're leaving soon anyway."
I knew that's what it was about. I don't know what happened in the hours I was gone, but I knew something had changed before I had even taken my shoes off. I still had to ask, "I thought you said you'd pay me to stay an extra week."
With a look that could kill and in a tone that said "no chance in hell" she said, "We'll talk about it."
I spent the rest of the day trying to be both invisible and available to help out. By evening time the mood in the house had thawed considerably, we had a good meal together and then a language lesson after. By the end of the language lesson we were all laughing so hard we had tears rolling down our faces. I went to bed that night thinking I must have completely misjudged the situation that day. The cold front that had moved through must not have been my fault.
Sunday I decided not to get up early for church service for two reasons. I wasn't 100% certain I'd satisfied my requirements for notification and I was also going to meet a couchsurfer after. Also, I'd have a long time between church and the meeting time. One church service in Norwegian wasn't going to kill me, and I thought it would be best to toe the line for however much time I had left.
I talked to the wife before I left, she was surprised I hadn't gone to church. I said that I'd overslept, but I'd be going to a later Norwegian service. We also talked about when I'd be home, I said I wasn't sure but I could call her when I knew. She said that wasn't necessary, she just needed to know if I'd be home for dinner. I said I wouldn't and offered again to text or call her. She said no, that was fine.
I came home around eight o'clock that night. As I was heating up the leftovers the wife had left out for me, the husband came in to the kitchen. He asked how my day was and we chatted for a bit. He then asked me if I had another job yet. Not wanting it to appear like I'd been job hunting since the exchange the previous Sunday, I told him I had some good prospective families instead of telling him that I'd already been hired by one.
I mentioned that I really did need that extra week of work we had talked about, but that the wife didn't seem to keen on the idea anymore. He said that I could stay another week only if it was absolutely necessary but they really needed me gone as soon as possible. I asked him what had changed since Friday, but he refused to tell me. He told me that I was destabilizing the family, and that the wife had collapsed on the floor in a fit of rage earlier that evening. I asked a second time, saying I really wanted to know and that it was important to me that I received an answer. He said it was something his wife would have to explain to me, but he didn't think it would be healthy for her to talk about it.
This is about the time the warning bells started going off in my head and I really started to feel unsafe. Friday we'd all been in agreement this wasn't working out and I'd be out of there soon, yet things were still escalating at an alarming pace. I had maybe exchanged two dozen words with the wife before I left and I was gone the entire day, appropriately prearranged. How I could have caused her to become apoplectic during my absence was beyond me.
I started suspecting on Saturday that they had been monitoring my email and instant messaging, and now I was nearly certain. It was just too strange that twice I'd been gone and during my absence something had enraged the wife so greatly. I had been venting via email to my friends and family about my living situation, of course I was. I was angry about the racism, being treated like a young teenager, working well over my 30 hours when I'd been promised I'd be working less.
I booked myself the earliest cheap train I could, which left Monday night. I knew I couldn't find a couchsurfer on such short notice to stay with, and I couldn't afford a hotel room which would have started at $200. I also knew that leaving in the middle of the night could possibly be the thing that tipped everything over the edge, and I risked losing all of my luggage if that happened. I reasoned that I probably wasn't in mortal danger, that the most I had to worry about was her coming into my room in the middle of the night and screaming at me. At any rate, I kept my cell phone with the police department's number near by and I stacked my suitcases against my bedroom door. I didn't go to sleep until after they went to sleep and I made sure I woke up before they did.
Thursday, February 19, 2009
The First Sunday: Things Start to Go Wrong
I was happy to learn that there was an English- language service at a Catholic Church in Stavanger. I told the wife the night before that I'd be going to church and I left a note reminding them because I was leaving so early. Unfortunately, the bus never came so I never got a chance to attend church. From the moment the family woke up I noticed something was off. Things just weren't okay in the house. I did my best to stay out of everyone's way while at the same time not completely holing up in my room.
Finally, around 3:00pm, I took my bank details down to the husband so I could be paid. He utters those magic words one never wants to hear, especially after such a tense day: "We need to talk."
He doesn't want me to turn in my visa paperwork to the police just yet. He starts off by telling me that I'm not doing enough around the house. I took this news rather hard. I take my job quite seriously, there's nothing worse for me than being told I've been screwing up for a long period of time. I'd been asking for a chore list, and in no way had house keeping been part of the arrangement. I had voluntarily taken a 500 kr (about $100) illegal pay cut because all I was supposed to be doing was teaching the parents English. I picked up after myself, I didn't leave a mess, and I was still adjusting to this new family life.
Then comes the real shocker, they were upset that I had gone to church that morning. Telling them the night before that I was going to church and leaving a note telling them where I was going and when to expect me home wasn't enough. I received a long lecture about how dangerous that was, specifically, that I could "be raped by a Polish man." They also wanted 2-3 days notice before I left the house. I did my best to smile and nod. I know my temper all too well, and once the missiles leave the silos they cannot be recalled.
Finally, around 3:00pm, I took my bank details down to the husband so I could be paid. He utters those magic words one never wants to hear, especially after such a tense day: "We need to talk."
He doesn't want me to turn in my visa paperwork to the police just yet. He starts off by telling me that I'm not doing enough around the house. I took this news rather hard. I take my job quite seriously, there's nothing worse for me than being told I've been screwing up for a long period of time. I'd been asking for a chore list, and in no way had house keeping been part of the arrangement. I had voluntarily taken a 500 kr (about $100) illegal pay cut because all I was supposed to be doing was teaching the parents English. I picked up after myself, I didn't leave a mess, and I was still adjusting to this new family life.
Then comes the real shocker, they were upset that I had gone to church that morning. Telling them the night before that I was going to church and leaving a note telling them where I was going and when to expect me home wasn't enough. I received a long lecture about how dangerous that was, specifically, that I could "be raped by a Polish man." They also wanted 2-3 days notice before I left the house. I did my best to smile and nod. I know my temper all too well, and once the missiles leave the silos they cannot be recalled.
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Stavanger: In the Beginning
The train ride to Stavanger was beautiful, the beauty of this country really is amazing. Huge mountains, valleys with little villages nestled inside and the fjords. After over eight hours of travel I stepped off the train into weather several degrees warmer than I was used to. The family met me at the train station, and after a quick night- time tour of the city we were on our way to my new home.
The family was very friendly, and we talked the entire way to their house. My room was really small, but I figured I could make do. I was tired from my journey, but I stayed awake and talked to them for several hours. They really had lived an amazing life and I was eager to hear all about it.
They came to Norway with $20 in their pockets and worked their way up from the bottom. They both had university degrees, but found themselves with no other option but to take jobs washing dishes. While they were away at university, their home town was invaded by Armenians. There had been trouble for years, the wife had been home on vacation when the house she was staying at was bombed. Once the occupation happened, they had become refugees in their own country. They could no longer return home. They showed me their former homes on Google earth, there was nothing left but the foundations.
Their lives and struggles were things I couldn't even imagine. It was an absolute pleasure to speak to them every evening.
The family was very friendly, and we talked the entire way to their house. My room was really small, but I figured I could make do. I was tired from my journey, but I stayed awake and talked to them for several hours. They really had lived an amazing life and I was eager to hear all about it.
They came to Norway with $20 in their pockets and worked their way up from the bottom. They both had university degrees, but found themselves with no other option but to take jobs washing dishes. While they were away at university, their home town was invaded by Armenians. There had been trouble for years, the wife had been home on vacation when the house she was staying at was bombed. Once the occupation happened, they had become refugees in their own country. They could no longer return home. They showed me their former homes on Google earth, there was nothing left but the foundations.
Their lives and struggles were things I couldn't even imagine. It was an absolute pleasure to speak to them every evening.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
My Crazy Adventure
I took a job two weeks ago with an Azari family in Stavanger. Stavanger is a beautiful city on the West side of Norway. Azarbajin is a former Soviet country on the Caspian Sea to the east of Turkey and the north of Iran. My job was to help these folks improve their English. Nice and simple, right? I even agreed to a salary that was less than the Norwegian minimum wage by 500 Kroner (approx. $100) because "I wouldn't be working all that much." We even had a month- long trial period to see if this arrangement would work. It sounded fantastic. I was going to be paid to talk to these people in English. Former Soviet nations really fascinate me, so basically I was going to be paid to talk to someone about my favorite subject.
This should have been a match made in heaven. Instead, everything imploded. It imploded so completely that I spent my final night in the house with my bedroom door barricaded by my suitcases. Granted, that might have been a bit of overkill, but things had spiraled so far out of control that I wasn't taking any chances.
This should have been a match made in heaven. Instead, everything imploded. It imploded so completely that I spent my final night in the house with my bedroom door barricaded by my suitcases. Granted, that might have been a bit of overkill, but things had spiraled so far out of control that I wasn't taking any chances.
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