Norwegian Courses, as it stands 2015.

Since people seem to be still visiting this blog, despite its horrible treatment by its author (cough), I decided to post something useful to those not in the know.

Anyone whose moved abroad will tell you the native language is everything.  I've been here over 5 years and though I've done well for an English speaking person, many who have come after me have excelled.  Yes that's jealousy, and respect! Some people find language easier than others, but the will to try is everything.

Now that I am again without work, I've had lots of time to see where I am and what I want or need to do next.  One of those things is of course, improving my Norwegian.

Now if you have tried and struggled, take heart, there is always a reason as to why it ain't working as intended.  Always a reason and always a solution. For many it's a matter of getting over that "instant gratification" complex we have grown up with.  A second language takes time, be proud of the progress and recognise it, no matter how small it may seem.

Never stop trying, or trying something new.  Everyone works differently, but basically the one rule that works for all is immersion.  Force yourself into that world and dare to embarrass yourself trying. You'd be surprised how effective the human brain is at adapting under duress. Virtually everyone I've ever talked to about this has stated that the biggest challenge was overcoming their fears of sounding stupid.

If you are already in Norway, you may notice a series of private firms taking advantage of the governments draw back on free Norwegian lessons.  When you get married for example, you can only qualify for free or discounted Norwegian lessons if you have only been in the country for under 2 years. So even under the best circumstances, don't rely on the state for help.

Luckily, as the market has progressed, competitive pricing has started to tick in.  (Yay capitalism!). Meaning if you shop smart you can save thousands of Kr.

Nearly all courses focus their work around 3 sets of books which have both Textbook (Tekstbok), Workbook (Arbeidbok) and word book (Ordbok). Note: The workbook comes with related audio CD): -
*In order of difficulty from easiest to hardest.

• På Vei
• Stein På Stein
• Her på Bergen

All books are difficult to acquire outside of Norway but it is possible.  You will need to get these books in addition to paying course fees, but so long as you treat them well and write in the work book (Arbeidbok) in pencil, they can be sold on.  In fact, ask in the Facebook immigrant pages (E.g. Brits in Oslo) to see if anyone is selling.  There are also the teachers CD's which are very expensive (mine cost over 1000kr), but allows for self teaching at home.  That said, you pay for the services of the teacher, not the voice on the CD.



Here is a selection of courses I've found so far: -

Language Champ
http://www.languagechamp.com/ 
A newcomer to the world of Norwegian courses, it currently only focuses on beginners level courses, using the 1st book mentioned above: På Vei. At the time of writing, they are offering a 50% course discount when you invite friends on the same course.  Something more than worth taking advantage of if you are doing this with friends (Hint: Split the savings!).
Cost per course: 2990 Kr for a 6 week intensive course. 3 levels, covering particular chapters from both På Vei and Stein på Stein.

Alfa Skolen. 
http://www.alfaskolen.no/en/
These guys really exploded onto the scene some years ago being advertised in all of the subways (T-bane) since then they have gone from strength to strength, adopting the official CEFR system of separating courses.  Arguably more expensive than one would like, they do offer one of the most comprehensive courses ot there, laying things out clearly, again using books like På Vei, but also offering Bergentest courses.  The Bergen test is the most popular certificate one can aspire to get, certifying their level of Norwegian.  It's demanded by all of the higher level education courses and for citizenship.
Cost per course: varies, 3990 for the very first level.  36 horse over 12 sessions.

Folkuniversitetet.
http://www.folkeuniversitetet.no/About four years ago, I took a level (nivå) 2 course with these guys.  Not my best investment, but times may have changed. Folkuniversitetet have been at this longer than the other two to my knowledge, though they also cover a variety of other subjects. The average course gives 48 hours spread over 3 weeks, once again, using the books listed above as their curriculum (pensum) material.
Based in many places, including Oslo, Folkuniversitetet do offer a shorter path to the almighty Bergens test (see Alfa Skolen), though prices are much higher than the other two, higher than when I took the course by 1100kr!
Cost per course: average 5500 kr for 48 hours.


Hopefully this info will help you, or someone you know make their own decision regarding Norwegian courses.  It is completely possible to simply buy the books and teach yourself, though as I mentioned before: Immersion is necessary.  Practice, make mistakes, look stupid, learn and progress.

The types of people around you at this time is a subject of its own, one I think I will need to take up in another post.  But in brief:  Practice with people who can correct you in the way that benefits you, both in learning and motivation.  Not with people who make you feel inferior or needlessly stupid. Laughing at you and with you are very different!

Have you taken a course with any of these three schools?  What was your feelings?  Was it worth it? Did it help?  Do you have any tips for others to learn the lingo?  Cadbury chocolate or Freia?

Thanks for reading!
Rick

I'm back. And Married! How the hell did this happen?

After another hiatus away from this particular blog, I'm back with another post.  Where have I been, what have I been up too?  Lots.  Tons! For starters I'm now married to a beautiful Norwegian, I've been made redundant at work but not worried in the slightest.

The question?
About a year ago in Ireland, while on holiday there with my now Wife, Ingrid, I proposed.  She said yes.  There was much rejoicing (and lots of Facebook updates :) )

How to marry a Nord.
So we had loads of decisions to make.  I had family in England who could not travel, and being frank the currency exchange rate would make it bank-breaking for my family and friends to get over here and stay in a local hotel.
We decided therefore to have the ceremony in England.  Just the ceremony mind you, the legal stuff had to be done in Norway.  Well, not had to be done, but rather was free as opposed to costing up to 400 quid.  Easy choice really. 
So, there was the legal process and then the ceremony, or what we were determined to make the actual marriage. 

Traditionally, as you probably know, you go to a wedding to get married and everything is sorted and done at the same time with the legal officiant.  Do you? Yes.  Do you? Yes. I now pronounce yadda yadda.  Its all very neat and tidy and has to be in the state building or a church of sorts.  Right?  Well in England you need an officiant and to loan one out costs money, like deceitful Ryan Air "extra costs for shoe laces" money.

Why did we need to do things traditionally anyway?  Why was it so important that the marriage was made official legally at the same time?

This became a bit of a theme for the weddings construction, identifying traditions that made little sense and cost money and breaking away to do our own thing. This was going to be our wedding after all.

So the path was clear!  We would sign the paperwork in Oslo, days before flying over to England to have the big pomp and party ceremony.  Which we would make mean something.  Though technically we were married in the eyes of the Norwegian state days before she walked down the isle, for us it was the putting on the rings that mattered. 

But where in England?  Well it had to be close to an airport and within a reasonable drive distance to my home in the North West.  I wanted my Nan to be able to be driven down and back again without too much hassle. Luckily England, like the rest of the UK is dotted with old sites ranging from the early medieval to post Victorian.  Thankfully, most of them have a roof and aren't extortionately expensive.

We found a couple we were interested in and took a quick holiday over to visit them with my parents in tow.  There were three in the end, though what won us was the excited and dedicated wedding planner from Hollin Hall, Macclesfield in Manchester.  Not known for being a perfect hotel, the listed building panged of Downton Abbey and had at its disposal a beautiful venue for our wedding.  Again though, it was the enthusiastic and hard working staff that really drew us in.  Other places has a cold professionalism which bordered on indifference.  Wedding conveyor belts basically.  While Hollin Hall had a wedding a day during high season, they never had weddings clashing, and the entire place could be altered to suit needs and themes. 

Link to brochure - Hollin Hall

Also, as we discussed the wedding with the consultant, we discovered they used Groupon for their package deals.  What made this even more appealing was the willingness to alter the package to suit our needs.  We had people coming over, we didn't have so many people in the ceremony and more in the after dinner. We had a set group.  We had less than the expected amount, so we got more in terms of food selection.  We settled on a deal and went from there.

A note from my mum? 
An interesting turn of events was the paperwork.  As we were getting married, technically, in Norway, we needed proof from the British side confirming my single status.  Can't remember the exact name of the document, but this decloration, when researched the first time, required me to apparently move home to England for 2 weeks before undergoing an interview.  Some archiac system of announcing my intent to marry and giving my secret wife chance to stop things.  All very dramatic.

I was amazed, so much so I asked how they could hope to "proove" I was in Britain for those two weeks.

A note from my mum.

I could hear the woman over the phone at the registrars office smiling.  Beaurcracy in its purest form.

I shrugged and made my peace with the idea that I would be once again asking my mum to write me a note.  Maybe she could add that I am a good little boy who puts his toys back?

Thankfully, when it came closer to the date, new legislation changed that year allowed the local Embassy in Oslo (thank god I live here not further North!), could arrange things without any such nonsense.  Though I did have to swear on the Bible (They didn't have a copy of Lord of the Rings, sadly).

This stair case saw lots of photoes on the day.

Cultural differences British/Norwegian of note.
Moving forward to the Wedding day, some really subtle differences appeared in how Weddings are done.  Now, bear in mind this IS my first (hopefully last) wedding: done in England, with over 50% Nords.  There were a few alterations to the norm.

Now I'm not talking about the untraditional approach we did, Halloween theme, pumpkins instead of lights/bouquet, that kind of thing, like how my bride to be sung her way down the aisle to harp music played by one of the brides maids (did I mention Nords do best men plural?), or the epic music played for the first dance.  No no no: I'm talking about the other differences.

The biggest difference was the way speeches were done.  Nords and their Scandinavian cousins do like to hold speeches.  So the usual method of doing speeches in turns (And you know that my Wife was getting ago, which is apparently very untraditional?), from the married couple down to pretty much anyone who wanted to.  This had to be run while food was being served too, as usually the speeches would be done.
Usually, the ceremony would include your inner circle, closest friends and family, while the meals etc afterward would include more.  But we had the same number in both, which thankfully didn't cause issues, as it was a smallish wedding some 50 people or so.

In one amazing display of improvisation, my Father, after saying he didn't feel the need to hold a speech, stepped up without any prior planning and did me proud.  Obviously feeling a little left out, my mother stood up next and last and said "Ditto."
I love those guys.  Lots of laughs, emotions and happiness all round.

Oh and we went with some sticky moustaches on the tables, as well as little vials of candy for the favours. You could tell which tables ate them too early!  But the moustaches were an instant success.  As our wedding photographer told us, "This was a wedding she would remember."  Something echoed by the DJ and the wedding planner.  Isn't that the point though?

This hasn't been a well flowed memory of the wedding, but I haven't blogged about things for a while now.  I would have sooner but events occurred a week after the wedding which made this impossible.  More on that soon.

What's going on at work?
Work sadly has recently ended.  The company I worked for as a purchasing consultant was recently taken over in an event seemingly quite typical in the Book and curriculum business here in Norway.  Seemingly in reaction to foreign businesses, a monopoly of sorts is being bashed together, my company being the latest take over.

Unfortunately they have their offices in Bergen and did not (obviously) require my services.  It is the best way to be out of work I think, and between the Norwegian job market and its welfare system I'm not worried about being out on the street just yet ;)

More on this later though.

As you may have noticed a lot has happened, some very dramatic.  In short, 1 week after the wedding, we had ourselves a house fire and had to move out for a couple of months while we got back on our feet.  But this story does have a happy ending, which I will soon get too.

Thanks for reading,
Rick

Norway in the Air! Rick in a Uniform!

While being in Norge (Norway) I've been blessed with many unusual opportunities.  Hell, one of my rules to live by seems to be to say yes more than no, or rather force myself to do something different sometimes.
Never underestimate the experience of something new, even if it sucks. :D

While talking to two friends for the Larp community (Networking and friends, remember that!), I was invited to help out as a display actor for lack of better word, running a diorama around a model Spitfire.

Having been a fan of all things WW2 and before since I was a little lad, I couldn't say no.  Actually I was relatively drunk at the time and I may have said something like "Yush!"

Basically Norway has been in the flying of aircraft gig for 100 years and they were celebrating it across the country.  Next would be Oslo's turn as last in the line.  All of the significant era's of Norways airforce history would be celebrated.  Starting with the first flight of Baron Carl Cederström made on 14 October 1910:

http://www.europeanairlines.no/wp-content/uploads/2011/01/Timeline-06-01-2011.pd

They won't have any of this flying tom foolery!

Captain Willy English reporting!

One of the most exciting and most cursed displays was the WW2 RAF display of a crashed Spitfire, complete with injured pilot, admin staff, medic crew and engineers.
Guess who was playing the role of the stiff upper lipped RAF officer?
Meeeeee!

But cursed you say?
Well, I'd say so.  The organizers were plagued by all manner of bad luck, which while I had been left with a sense of foreboding, they basically improvised with something akin to genius.

No Spitfire?  Use a fiberglass model.  Model damaged?  Buy a bag of dirt, cover damage and make like the thing crashed.

Don't have all the uniforms?  Get something that looks like it.
The general consensus was anyone who had a problem with the accuracy of such things should be congratulated for noticing and sent on their way.

We were not there for them.  We were there for the kids, the families and everyone who was there to Oooo Aaaa, take photos and generally enjoy themselves.

Pilot to be injured, need bandages.

We ran improvised scenarios starting with everyone in their own vehicles (Jeep, medical truck etc) and running to the injured pilot clambering from his cockpit.  This one we did several times and always seemed to gather people.  I blame the blood.  It got everywhere!  In one of the "scenarios" the pilot was drunk!

Photo by: Ståle Askerød Johansen

Photo by: Ståle Askerød Johansen

Everyone in the team worked damned hard in incredibly hot weather.  I can't speak for anyone else, but at the end I smelt like hard work and had received my first proper sun burn for quite a while!

There was even a magical moment when one of the last surviving pilots of WW2 was chatting with our injured pilot seen below.  I didn't managed to sneak out my mobile for a photo but it was very popular with the visitors.


2 days of acting in character with a very talented team from the Larp community. 
 
For those interested in the Norwegians in the RAF, I humbly recommend research into the 331 squadron, which this diorama was based upon.
http://www.europeanaf.org/history/331.htm

And there were the planes.

http://youtu.be/U9L8XHIPiS0

Thanks for reading!

R

Tick Bites in Norway (Is this country trying to kill me?)

I've had some strangely close calls since being here in Norway.  Within weeks of arriving, jobless and with little more than a suitcase of belongings I was stricken with a tooth that had died inside and become little more than a bacteria factory.
When the Dentist (highly recommended them) says "we need to do this now" and starts without permission, you bloody well let it happen.  Apparently the inside of the offending tooth had been feeding harmful crap into my blood stream (in my head) for the last few months.  Nearly lost an eye.

Of coarse the next shock came when I received the bill.
5000Kr for the lot.  Which apparently is cheap by Norwegian standards.
By by savings... Damn I was missing the NHS...

Anyway, recently I had another scare.

Now I might have mentioned the activity known as Larping.  Live action roleplay.  Now in Norway they generally do this differently than in the west.  Far more emphasis is put on the acting in character than the "fireball!" part that's found everywhere else.

At the end of these Larps (or Laiv) there is usually much drinking.  Now being drunk in a forest is a humbling affair, especially when you wake up the next morning bitten from head to toe by "Mygger" which I believe are mosquitoes.

One of those bites got worse.  Found just above my right ankle, one assortment of little bite marks started getting worse, redder and bigger.  Generally being ignorant of such things I pretty much assumed my awesome immune system would take care of it and tried not to itch.


"Ass" out of "u" and "me?"

A few weeks later, while helping my girlfriends parents with their cellar clean out, they noticed the mark on my leg and were rather alarmed.  Apparently it looked like a Tick bite and apparently I needed to see a Doctor immediately.

This turned out to be an adventure in itself.  In Norway, the health service exists in a private and not so private system.  First I went after convenience: walking to the nearest center, my mind filled with worrying facts about Tick Bites (Flått biter) crippling me at a later age. That first place was closed due to "server issues."

I wasn't impressed.  So I went to the next nearest.  Which after waiting for nearly 3 hours as a "non member" watching "members" go in as priority, I found out a simple look at my leg would cost me around 1000 Kroner (that's about 110 GBP).  Erm... no.  Just no.

Eventually I went to the most public version of the many Doctor's practices in Oslo.
I was seen within an hour, got tested for Lymes disease (which came negative), had my bites even measured for snake bites (I was drunk, but I'd like to think I'd have noticed a snake!), and then promplty got a shrug from the Doctor who gave me a prescription for some wonderful "answer to all problems" antibiotics.  Apparently there was so many bite marks in that region that she hadn't a clue what had happened, but the rash wasn't stopping and I did have the white circle mark.  Total cost including medication? 620 Kr.


Overall, anticlimax.  No problem with that!

Still, it had been a bit of an emotional roller coaster, starting with drunk in the forest, ending in a hospital room with my pants rolled up.  It seems like everyone had an opinion about Tick bites, everything from the "meh" catagory through to the "doomyness."  The local tabloids have regular scary articles about them getting even more dangerous every summer.  Guess I should read the papers more, pinch of salt well prepared.

Two weeks later on medication which stopped me from having milk or cheese (No Tea or cheese on toast, it's like they hate me, bio-terrorism against the English...) the rash had gone, and once again I had survived this harsh deadly environment known as the Path to the North.  Norway.

The lesson here?  Twofold.  Alchohol and forests don't mix and if you see a bite mark which is getting bigger, pay the man and get it checked.

To end the post on a high, here is a storm: Skandinavisk style!  (Sorry about the quality, I'm not an expert and yes, you can here the locals playing football).

Thanks for reading!

R

Rumours of my demise, yadda yadda...

Hi all!

It's been a long time since the last post and I will admit that the passing of my Grand Mother really destroyed my blogging discipline (of which there was very little).
Being completely honest, it got me a little frightened.  More than the obvious tragedy of the death of a dear family member it really brought home the bigger picture.  Time was passing.  What was I doing with it?

A lot has happened since last we met.


The Job.

Getting straight to the meat of the matter, I have now received finally, a "fast" job.  Fast, is the Norwegian word for permanent (Think "Stuck fast").  After much stress and uncertaintly concerning my 6 month contract, it seems my ahem, hard work impressed someone.  Either that or they never found someone who could understand "Glasgi." (Read: Glasgow accent).

I have been exceptionally lucky.  After starting work there, my manager's manager moved on.  Then my manager left, leaving me alone in the department with someone who was sadly on half hours.
Then suddenly the company had acquired another company which logically (Sarcasm) meant loads of layoffs.  It was indeed as the senior director said "an exciting time."

"May you live in exciting times" being the oldest curse I know, I was not excited.

Hearing about the job cuts and general Conservative antics I'm used to happening at home, I was very, very aware of the fragility of my new job.  So I started looking elsewhere.

I also joined a Union.


A union?  Yupp.  Norway never had Margaret Thatcher.  Regardless on your standings on the idea of the workers union, Norway still has them.  And they work.  1 year into working under a series of increasingly smaller contracts was wearing thin and when push came to shove I personally believe that a combination of: working hard, proving that I was learning Norwegian, my "network" and of course my union membership all contributed.

So if you are lucky enough to get somewhere that has a Union, consider joining it.
Its really, really great for us invaders. Good for learning the "arbeidslov" (work law), meeting new people, you get great travel insurance and of course all the extras won by your Union representatives.
Put another way, if you are not in a Union, all of the rights on pay, extras etc that they win, you may not get.


Anyway, I am now nearly two years into working for the company and though its been hard for everyone, I am still there.  And I dare say I'm bloody useful now.  That's the trick I suppose, make yourself useful.  I work with some of the best people I've met and while I moan like a man trapped under a tree, it's possibly the best job I've had.







The Language.

Having rested on my laurels for quite some time, I've become great at what I know.  I've even subconsciously picked up expressions and the odd word along the way, yet even after all this time, I still get blank looks when I say something... always gut wretchingly embarrassing.  Luckily its not fatal.  If you can get over it and be interested in language then you can get through it and learn stuff.

If you get to a point where you can ask a very patient Norwegian speaker to explain what a word means in Norwegian, then you are on your way.  Well, I hope so, because that's the only milestone I can claim recently.

After talking with a Nord whose child is learning two languages, I've decided to turn my workplace into a "Norwegian" only domain.  Hopefully this will give me a venue to continue practicing while I return to studying from my book set.  Stein på Stein.  The second book in the series has seen my return more times than a doctors waiting room. Still, I believe that if you don't give up, you can never lose. (May not be applied to every situation).

In fact the very week I was hoping to start this, I got sick.  As in, "could not speak" sick.

Somewhere, some great entity is laughing at me.





The new place!

Thats right! I'm off work, typing this from our newer larger and better flat in Majorstua.  Gone is the tiny 33 Sq Metre box, it has done its job.  Spending time to renovate the new flat with fire and paint before moving in, it was quite the marathon.  Again, a very good friend helped me out with cheap supplies and great advice.  He even did half the work.  You could say he became a good friend in the process. 

We moved in finally last year in September and have not looked back.  It was another stepping stone on the path and I still can't believe this is working.

Increase in rent, but strangely, after surviving for so long on so little, its doesn't seem to be a problem.


What next?

Well, since I started this blog to follow my trials and travails in moving to Norway, i may well find that I have less and less to write about.  I think that I am through the hard bit.  It's not over.  I'm not fluent in Norwegian yet for starters, and yes, you should be when moving here.  It's only polite if anything.  And YES, you can learn the language.  Anyone can.  If you can deal with looking like a dick idiot once in a while. :)

I've been thinking of interviewing some friends who recently moved over, or others who've been here a while and get a general overview of how bad they had it.  It would be nice to compare notes regarding the increasing bureaucracy in this country, any racial walls and even moving over due to relationships, which happens a lot.

Once again though, I am writing this for others who are thinking of coming over. So if you have any questions, or need help with anything.  Let me know.

Thanks for reading.

Rick

Laiv and death.

The hall was made of the traditional wooden build, the solid shaped tree trunks still visably laid upon one another. It was for some reason more reasuring than the usual brick and mortar. I looked into my drink, a wierd mix of cordial with spices and water. Apparently it was rum. It certainly got my pirate friends drunk enough.
There was a loud bang. SHouting. Somone was bearing hammered in the face by a tall man bearing nought but a animal skin. SOmeone had irritated the wood bandits again. One of the society types by his dress, except now it was covered in food, drink and bits of table. My table shook as the bandit threw his opponent to the ground and beat his chest in victory. My sword shook in its scabbard.
I sighed. The night had started so well...



Norway is full of culture. Pick any spot and you will be assured to find something in eyesight. But underneath the history and the more modern asthetics you can find something akin to those secret societys you read about.
My girlfriend, who you might have heard is Norwegian, is also a Laiv player.

Laiv, is a unique word, created to distinguish this secret past-time from the more common LARP (Live action roleplay) which one can find in other countries. While LARP is known for running around a field with fake fantasy equipment shouting "fire damage" with every strike against your foe, Laiv is seen as less action, more acting. COmbat, soft or otherwise is not as common and is reserved to those blessed with a profession or hobby which allows them to perform a combat like scene. In our group we had several professional wrestlers, sword fighters, singers and stage performers all versed in making you wonder if what they are doing is real!
This isnt to say that traditional LARP is rubbish, but an altogether different beast. That said, the line is murky at best.

Anyway, I was invited to join my girl on a Laiv called "The Brotherhood." Inspired by several great movies such as The Brotherhood, Cut Throat Island, Casanova and beyond, it contained many groups of theives from highwaymen to pirates. The plot? Since the death of the Thief Kind/Queen, wierd things have been occuring, driving the clans to come together to honour the ancient code which demands a regent. But with backtabbing, bribary and more strange unexplainable events, its going to be hard to get everyone to agree on who!

Clad in some fantastically hand sewn gear that my girlfriend actually put together a year before (another event), and toting my own sabre (which I would not use as it was a bit pointy) I joined my own group of Pirates on a weekend being someone else!

Now language was an issue at first. This was my first Laiv and although it was relaxed in terms of requirements (Norwegian was set as the secret thieves tongue, english as english) there were occasions of confusion. However, these wonderfully talented Laiv'ers that have been doing this a long time, each adapted in their own way. Have you ever heard Norwegion in a french/russian or even a German accent?

Have you ever seen someone scream so loud it hurt and begin drawing spirals in the snow in their own blood?
The special affects where amazing, and often in my own tired state I looked twice. Arguements, comedy, danses, drunkeness (real and not), duels, sex (mostly not real:D), betrayels and Svølk!! (In joke). Over the two/three days we all donned appropriate clothing and were in character. It got so real that I actually realised, if I needed to go home (we were in the middle of nowhere, in a camping site with loads of wooden houses, 15" snow), noone around me would even know what a car was!

Of course there were safe words, one that changed the scenes direction and one that stopped it entirely. Neither were used. Testiment to the quality of the players and the organisers.

But I digress. The point I was trying to make, was that this Laiv culture is big. Lying just under the surface, this little past time has had a few books, fiction, photo art and entire wiki databases dedicated to it. Mostly its historical period works, others are low fantasy or science fiction, with the emphasis always more on the charactor than the weapon he/she carries. About 50/50 male/female players. This thing stretches across the whole of scandinavia and beyond.

For me? I caught the bug. I wasnt the best player, in the later half it was so easy to forget my character amid everyone elses and be swept along from mysterious events like poison without cause and playing turncoat on my ship crew. My next Laiv has already been paid for.




Death.

Sadly this month has had sad events too. Recently I was told my grandmother passed away. Now this is a personal thing so forgive me if I don't go into too much detail. I will say this however, that one of the greatest emotional obstacles with living abroad is actually dealing with being away from home when something happens.

When tragedy strikes, there is no quick hug, reasurrance or anything of the kind spare a phone call. Organising an emergency trip home for the funeral can also be a trial of logistics and money. Every level of life is effected from friends to work. One minute you are hanging on every minute waitng for some information and then your rushing to get home. Ryan Air, you suck.

As it is, once again I was spared from too much turmoil by my adopted family over here. Not just Ingrids family, but friends that don't even realise they help with a word, a hug or a distraction. You know who you are.


Thanks for reading.

A year and a half ago, I came to Norway. I made it.

Hi guys. Please accept the usual torrent of apologies from a bad blogger with too much time and too little to write about.

In truth, the only reason I am writing this right now is two fold:

One, a nice chap came over from Scotland and for some reason, after reading this Blog thought it would be wise to ask me for help getting settled. I hope I have, but the point is, he hasn't been the first.
Indeed, since making this poor excuse for a Blog I have been introduced to some like minded amazing people, who have for one reason or another (mostly the other) have emigrated to Norway. At the time, I began it simply because I couldn't find anything like it. It seems like I have filled a hole. I hope someone does a better job!
Anyway, I suppose what I am trying to say is that this gentleman reminded me of my duty (can I say duty?), to anyone trying to make that move. I have to keep writing. Even if I have finally begun to feel like I have made it here...

Two, I managed to find time to write this while working my new shiny job.

THATS RIGHT PEOPLE!

JOB! Now before anyone starts complaining, let me say this: After over a year of trying to cost as little as possible for a sweetheart who paid for my every basic requirement, working loads of odd and some unpleasant jobs just to get enough money to pay for the food, working as a cleaner and walking home after midnight twice a week in Winter no less...
You'd be happy too.
Or you would be stupid.

Allow me to explain. A few weeks back, I was walking down Karl Johan's gate, trying to ignore the shiny stuff in the shiny shops, when my phone rung.
One of the applications I had sent off had been well received. In fact, so much so that I was dragged in for an interview the next day and began work the day after. Unfortunately, they needed me early and I couldn't stop suddenly working my cleaning job, so I had to work both for two weeks. Tough but I'm sure you will agree, very worth it.

But what do I do??

Something called an Innkjøpsmeddarbeider. Which translates roughly (roughly mind) as import worker. I work in an office (after cleaning them it makes a refreshing and surreal change) and process and follow up on all the books imported from abroad. Its a tough job. I've had to learn a complicated computer system in Norwegian, so much so that when I had the option to switch it to English, I turned it down because I was too far gone. Plus, how hard would it have been to discuss the system with a Nord when all the terms where called something else.
Wierd.
It is after all, just a 6 months contract. It was either this or a permanent position as a cleaner. I'm not going to be so be so arrogant as to say I chose this job because it is less embarrassing. If you have worked in the "Renhold" sector in Norway you will discover entire immigrant families working in it earning more than my old boss in England. Whose laughing now eh? However, I needed something that could help me grow and quite frankly, I promised myself an office job.

Got one.

So have I "made it"?

Its a question which I've asked myself a lot these past few weeks. What does it mean to have "made it" in another land? When does this Blog become pointless?
I've learned a lot of the language. Enough it seems to do this job. It isnt fluent. It isnt even amazing (although many polite locals always impress that it is, they are just being polite sadly. Though its nice to hear.), but enough.
Regardless of if I get to keep this position or not, I have earned the contacts, the experience, and most importantly, enough money to invest in my future.
Im thinking of more language courses of coarse. But, my past experience with them is so bad, I wonder whether that would be just procrastinating on the problem.

I must admit that since Christmas, our Norwegian club has faltered and my own studies have pretty much stopped. I learn new words at work, though natural acquisition, but I know that I must soon get back on that wagon. It never ends. You just change the method you study.

Also, was it really that special? One big reason I came over was my girlfriend, who I met and ahem, fell in love with a while back. She really was responsible for much of my initial success, if not all by default. Without her I wouldn't have had a place to stay, nor a beginning for my "network" of friends and contacts. Hell, I wouldnt have even bothered if not for her. While not humble enough to cheapen my own efforts, it still points out something.
Moving over without friends/contacts is much much harder!


Money!?

Yes. Penger! After a brief scare with the student loans company, (they are really nice people once you get past the paper), I was relieved to be left with quite a bit of money just sitting in my bank. After months of becoming adept at costing so little, I couldnt think of a thing to spend it on.

What had happened to me!? Is this the "immigrant thinking" that I had heard about? Well, regardless, I had planned a holiday home. Though visiting my family, I think a shopping trip is in order. After all, everything is dear in Norway.



To sum up.
Because I don't know when I will post again, or what it will be about (Though any questions can be sent to me.):
If you are moving or thinking of moving to Norway, and you haven't got a special skill or whatever, it is still possible. Patience, determination, good friends and the right attitude. Its all you need.

This is me signing off, still undecided on whether I have made it in Norway.
Ill keep you posted.

:D