Walls, hoops and a F#¤)ING big emergency cuppa!

Hi there sports fans.

Ever had a crappy revelation?

Picture this. Today I decided to research the possibility of studying a Masters in English Language with Oslo University. Today I found out that, of coarse, my micky mouse degree in Imaginative Writing didnt count for didly.

Damnation.

In essence, although Im looking into this, I would have to start from scratch with another new Bachelors beforehand. Thats a long time.

Okay, Ill back up a bit.

I decided a week ago, with no small amount of consideration nor sobreity, to become a teacher. No instant thing, I know, but it felt good to have an overall goal, ikke sant?
I had a GCSE and an A level relevant to English Language, and since the Masters in Oslo were in English, I figured that while my Norwegian continued to grow I could do something useful. And of coarse abuse the immensly cheaper Tuition costs here.

Sadly, my lazy past came back to haunt me.

Still, at least in a year or two I can take that Pedagogikk Bachelors, though Ive heard more conflicting opinions about how that works. One camp says I need another Bachelors beforehand, while others say I can combine it with another subject that say I want to teach.

More research pending.

In other news, the Norsk Klubb continues. Infact, after Ive finished this post and scoffed down a certain pizza that is cooking right now, Im off to the next session!

Jobs and work? Well my last day with Penelope was yesturday. I felt somewhat cold afterward. Almost like a good thing had ended, though Ive heard they will more than likely need me come December.
In the meanwhile Im plugging as many days back on the doors as I can without suffering adverse affects such as insomnia, hallucinations and a love of Twilight.

Shudder...

I've had some interviews recently (not been idle, not me!), and Ive discovered the need to scan and prepare both copies of all of my education and documents, but also an "attest" from all of my Norwegian jobs! A bit of digging, but apparently my employers must by law give me an attest (read - written reference). Doesnt have to be anygood, but they do have to give me one! :D

So while I wait for those documents to turn up, while I scan and research, I still can't help but feel like Im not doing anything useful.

Thankfully my girl Ingrid continually reminds me that:
a/ Im being stupid.


Love you baby. X

Lesson from all of this? Get a pen and a piece of paper:

1-Before coming over, scan all of your documentation regarding education.
2-Remember to ask for an attest from previous employers, even current ones.
3-Never give up.
Message ends.

My confession.

I have a confession to make. I really didnt want to write on this BLOG. Its strange really but I have in effect been avoiding it for some time and I think I know why.

Life is boring. Kinda.

People BLOGS are usually crammed with fantastic trips, events, littered with endless photoes of the Bloggers in question having a great time. Well, either I havnt had any of that, or I generally forgot my camera. Or, after all these excuses are spent, they are all normal.

This BLOG, I started nearly a year and a half ago, to detail my adventures in actually getting into another country with nought but myself and my girl friends help. Since then, its been a case of no news is good news right? I do get surprised at how much Norwegian Ive actually learnt. Usually at the expense of someone who say, has been here longer and not learned a thing. The shit kicker is usually that said person has a job anyway because of knowledge of stuff or friends.

I have been lucky.

I have NOT earned a job the hard way. I have not applied for work and won through a interview the work. I have either had it handed to me by very good friends that I have made over here, or simply by being in the right place at the time. I know, I know, same at home anyway.
It just stings is all.

With regards to work I have been lucky in the past, but now, soon actually, I will be jobless again looking without hope but wondering all the same if I shall be lucky again.
Truth is, I have come so far from when I started. I can see this. I have actually had job interviews in Norwegian now. Not very good ones, not very succesful ones, but in Norsk all the same.
Also, my recent stretch with Penelope bokhandel has given me some fantastic experience, a really good reference and best of all, a cadre of very awesome people. I can't tell you enough about the work ethic you find in some of these places, beer tasting and sushi extravaganza's (all free) not withstanding, theyre professional and fun. A rare combination.

Its wierd how when your commuting on the bus or the train, you only ever meet the impolite ones. Namely getting on and off the train is hell during traffic because they people coming the other way barge into you. Sooner or later the English politness goes out the door and you fall back on mosh-pit/rugby/older-brother training and start crushing some folker!

So, I have lots of free time right now, though next week Im working vikar (cover work) back at Penelope the book shop. After wards I got nuthin. Right now, Im going through a rutine (trying my best, I have no dicispline so Im trying to get some) of excercise, tending to that veruca I keep getting from these laminate floors, keeping my eyes peeling for another job on Nav or Finn, painting figures for fun times later this week and most importantly, continuing my own norsk kurs. I recently got together with two friends who are on the same level as me to study through a book called Stein På Stein. Im also reading the Witches in Norwegian, with accompanying sound book. Good fun.

Kinda scary really. Part of me debated fleeing back to England but to my horror I discovered that its worse at home. At least here there is work if you crack the language barrier. Back home it sounds more and more like a third world country. Maybe I could claim asylum here? :B

I had an epipheny also. I decided that my long term goal was to go into teaching. Not entirely impossible. I have a degree in Imaginative Writing (stop laughing at the back please, give the front a turn) amid a host of A levels and GCSE's. Nothing special, but enough to maybe get one of those free/really cheap Masters and when Im ready, a Pedogoggik degree. Maybe teaching English, IT and History? I'd do that here, but not at home. Its disgusting how few rights teachers have in schools. The famous paedo scare of the 90's still haunts us, and puts teachers in a situation where for example, if a child tries to stab another, the teacher can only "get in the way."

Ridiculous.

Anyway, I digress.

Bumped into a really great guy while working the doors at Samfunnet the other day. Forget his name, but he was from CHester. Sounded like an extra from Hollyoaks, but it was good to go full swing with my accent and not be worried about being misunderstood. As it was noone there could make a word out (how do you like it eh!?), but as it is my "scouse" accent isnt actually scouse. I know, but try explaining the concept of villages to most norwegians. Steder (or places i think) are closest they have. Its cold here, huddle up now!


Feels good to finally write something down. Always feels like an Ego trip, and yes I suppose this does feed my self worth somewhat. So sue me. I have followers dammit!

Thanks for reading all. Im still alive.

Rik.

A year in. Looking back.

So as I said in the last post. I, have been in Norway for just over a year. A lot of the visitors to this Blog as I have noticed are more interested in how hard it is financially, psychologically etc, then how great a bunnad looks. Fair enough, at the end of the day this is what I intended to do all those long months ago. So:

29th Mai 2009. I came over with one suitcase and a backpack. Both of these items I would be getting very intimate with over the next six months. Why? Well, because when I came over I had no job. I had no real place to live spare in the apartment that girlfriend shared with her friend in Toyen (sorry, cant get Norsk keyboard to work today, Vista's great ain't it?). To give you an idea, heres a qoute from my first ever post:

Lets get this into perspective. I have no friends and family over there (well I didn't), no money making talents, no preset job arrangements and most certainly no language knowledge. SO! Why do it? It could be that my beloved girlfriend is over there and I'm not. It could be that I am so bored with life here that I want a change? Or it could be that I want to at least say I tried to do it. Not many can say they've done that!

Now. When I say suitcase, I mean enough clothes to keep me from being naked for one and a half weeks. With only empty days to myself for the first few months, while my girl was busy working to pay for me. Not ideal, but we both knew what we were getting ourselves in for!

Over the next few months I busied myself with studying norwegian, meeting all of my girl friends friends. While my lady tried her hardest to get a job for me through her "connections" i went about town with a CV and embarrased myself wholesale trying to get work anywhere. I also bothered to try getting help from NAV, the Norwegian job point thingy, only to feel like an unwanted retard. Twice. Thanks guys.

Luck came in the form of a stock take at my Girlfriends place, where I actually managed to use my experience in retail to good form. Then, I got an extra boost of luck when I began working for a friend of the family by "Reporting football matches." I know what youre thinking, but no, it was for a booking website. Still paid. Most of the time.

Eventually, I acquired enough money to afford my first Norwegian Coarse. Now dont let this step fool you, for two weeks worth of "intensive" lessons you too can learn precisly butt kiss of norsk for a humble sum of 4400Kr (Roughly £480). Though the coarse was where I met like minded individuals i.e. immigrants like myself, each with their own hopes and dreams and stories.

Whilst this was going on, during a rather drunken complaint to one of my new Norwegian friends, I managed to acquire another job: working the door. Yeah, I know! But no matter what people tell you, Oslo aint nuthin like Liverpool. Working as security and genral drunk pusher, I worked twice a week from ten til four in the morning, walking home across the city. bearing this was during the Winter and this was before I could ship over some Winter clothes. Let me tell you, you don't know what cold is like until you've walked through Oslo in the Winter mornings.

>_<

Life was getting better. Until a surprise fall out with that "family member" caused me to rely more and more on my work at the student pub, which was starting to take its toll.

Taking a step back, I realised that I was missing vital norsk exposure. To that end I began working in a Barnahage voluntarily. The things kids can teach you. Anyone interested in learning more Norwegian or generally builing a CV in Norway, I would recommend volunteering for starters. Its not the expected thing here strangely. But like I said, children are fantastic teachers, patient (or not!), brazen and eager to impress by teaching you something.
A few weeks later, taking a tip of a "immigrant" friend, I was told about a Barnahage that was advertising for a job or two and I went for it. Got an interview and becuase of my lack of experience, aquired a "vikar" work. Vikar is essentially half way between a zero hour contract and part time. Unfortunatly the job was primarily English spoken and the whole afair lacked something which I needed. That, and consistant money!

As me and my girl were planning to move into our own place, we were stuck living at her parents house. We had said goodbye to Toyen, compacted all of our belongings (easier for me) and moved into a small room somewhere in Frogner. Life got hard while we pursued one flat after another until we got a lucky break, which we did have to wait longer for. Finally we said our thank yous and moved in. Making sure that it was a flat that my girl friend could afford herself, I was happy to actually let myself relax. Life was finally taking a sold turn. After six or seven months of room sharing? Who could blame me?

It was around this time that luck struck again. An old contact that I had enquired about work with came out of the blue, a few months later, asking if I wanted work. It was a part time job, just cleaning. It paid consistantly and although it was thankless labour it paid ok.

Finally earning, I made the call to ship all of my belongings from England. Total cost for 14 boxes? 4000Kr. Make sure youre ready and set before you do this. Only when you are sure do you burn your boats Cortez style.

What was I complaining about!? It was work! If someone in England had offered me this type of opportunity I would have flied the birdy, but here? It was progress, and that never happens fast enough.

The cleaning job panned out, very pleasent people, all with stories. Then a cruve ball occured, barley two months ago now. A friend of mine asked me if I could work in a book store, nigh on 100% Norwegian.

I said: Sure, why not?

It wasnt as permanent as the cleaning job. It might not even pay as much. So why did I take it? Answer? Long term thinking. I wasnt in Norway to get money. I was here to grow. To learn. I downgraded my cleaning job to vikar, and accepted her offer.

Like I said. Depseration is key.
:)

So:
Lets get this into perspective. I have no friends and family over there (well I didn't), no money making talents, no preset job arrangements and most certainly no language knowledge. SO! Why do it? It could be that my beloved girlfriend is over there and I'm not. It could be that I am so bored with life here that I want a change? Or it could be that I want to at least say I tried to do it. Not many can say they've done that!

Friends? Check. Through them came many fun times and jobs! How to get em? Be sociable. Accept all invitations where possible. Find a friend from your country? Stick together, endure the nordy madness.
Family? You would be surprised how quickly you can be "adopted" into another family, abroad. I like to think that I have my family, and my other families.
Job arrangements? If I have proven anything, its that not giving up and making opportunities (not to mention taking them) is key and if you try long enough, success is assured.
Language knowledge? I am proud to say that as of this month I have officially attained: Godd bad Norwegian level. Huzzaa! You get to a certain point? Unless you openly refuse to speak norsk, you will pick up words as you go. Nuthin to do with intellect, all you need is right in your head.
Why did I do it? I honestly cant think of a single reason not to. Remember, you can always start again, or try something else. Be the one that tried. Better yet, be the one that succeeded.


Thanks to all that follow me and this hurried little Blog. In no small part, your support and kind words have kept me sane in darker months.

One Year Anniversairy

A rather strange day occurred recently when I realized to my horror that I had in fact been in Norway for exactly a year last Saturday. Desperate to make a deal about it, I tried to arrange a celebration, maybe even start a little something for all of my other "invanderer" friends. As it happens, sodding Eurovision was on the same day.

(As an aside, have to say, Pete Waterman needs shooting for that travesty of music, and lets be honest, did anyone else notice that the English "dancers" were all drunk during the show part of the night? So embarrassing.)

Anyway, just as I was prepared to settle in for a night of eurotrash, my good friends surprised me with a gift an a hug, congratulating me for a job well done. Interestingly enough, those good friends will have been here a year in July sometime, so maybe a tradition can start for this? If I could coin it, I call it Invaders day, celebrating one year as an Invader, or immigrant if you like. :)

Anyway, for this years Anniversairy (a word I always struggle to spell) Ive decided to write up something of an appraisal. Maybe look back at past posts, events and memories and maybe go through the steps and travails I took to get this far. If I read it tonight, I should be able to write something up tomorrow.

Until then. If youre reading this and you yourself are an Immigrant in Norway, ask yourself, when is your Invaders day?

Rik

The Curious case of a lost F*&^ing wallet!

Yes thats right. On the way home from work, I left my wallet on the bus. Finding a distinct lack of bulge in my right pocket I did what most red-blooded males do. I freaking panicked. Ran around Oslo Sentrum chasing after buses like a demented canine. Finally saw sense and went to the local bus station only to remember that I forgot what the bus number had been!

Crap.

Well, writing it all off I counted the losses and went home, myself and my girl very damnably depressed Still its easier to deal with once you accept that there was nothing you could do.
Reaching home I went through the process of cancelling all my bank cards, taking advantage of the Norwegian 24hour stop system. Then, again, taking advantage of Norways massive trend of interenet banking, transferred money around so I could access it before 17th May celebrations!

Now all of this was going through the motions. But yesturday I recieved a very special phone call. Now this would never happen in England I'm mostly sure, but I recieved a phone call from a very excited bus driver who had found my wallet. Not only this, but she wanted to get it to me as soon as possible, trying to make arrangements to drop it off at my local station!

All of those days, chasing after a bus that leaves when your within inches of reaching the door has been forgiven! I cancelled my cards but hey, its the thought that counts right?

SO if you ever lose your wallet or "lommerbok", follow the following course:
1/ Cancel all bank cards via the internet or phone call. I would recommend that your mobile phone has such emergency numbers already on them.
2/ Contact your local bus terminal (or Traffikanten if your unsure), and tell them what bus you were on and when it was running. Sometimes apparently they can get the bus to drop it off the next time the driver comes by, if the wallet is found.
3/ Go back two days later to ask about it. Very often you will be given a set of numbers depending on what buses you had used, phoning these "lost and found" centers is a very direct approach.

Overall the experience of losing your important belongings is slightly different in Norway. Overall you are less likely to be frauded or have the cards taken, usually because such a safe system of stopping said cards exists. But dont panic, follow the above and you will be fine and writing blog posts about the ordeal in no time at all.

:)

And in other news...

I just realised right after finishing my last post some important things: -

1. I'm still waiting for my drivers license,
2. Soon I'm going on holiday... back home!
3. And, I've actually been here around 11 months as I arrived last June. Which means next month is my Immigrants Anniveresy! How to celebrate...

Drivers License.

Using the ever helpful services of Biltilsynet, I decided a while ago to change my English drivers license into a Norwegian one. Time was against me, as at the time I had but a few days to send it back to England for a new picture. Which, I was told by someone official in England, was pointless as I was living abroad. So, I quickly rushed over to my local Vei Vesson (sp?) to hand in my details. That was about nearly two months ago... I really should find out how that went!

A holiday back home.

From the very first moment my foreign feet touched tarmac at Torp airport I dreamed of using the Norwegian wage to fund a mass spending spree holiday back in England. Fate as it would seem, thought this would be fun too and thanks to the current climate pretty soon I "should" be returning to England with some money to buy things either unavailable (Read Aunt Bessies Yorkshire Puddings) or a damn sight cheaper in England (Read just about everything!). They say no plan ever survives contact with the enemy. I'll let you know how that goes. :)

Immigrants Annivserery? That and other traditions coming soon!

My family has never been one for traditions. Not because of some high brow sense of place, nor any form of spartan thinking, oh no, my folks came from Huyton Mofo! >:) However, since coming to Norway I can't help but feel rather than lacking, and rather than taking pølse off children every 17th May etc I feel its my responsibility to me and my own to establish some new traditions. This is after all a land filled with them. Here, a man can shamelessly wave the Union Jack without connotations to white skinned cueball headed neo-natzis and allround jew hating scum bags. Here, a man can actually explore what remains of English culture, the way he was meant to: by comparing it to other culture with a sense of dark witted arrogance. "I want my cup of tea in a CUP, not a GLASS, with MILK and a ton of SUGER! If it doesnt give me diabeties it don't count!"

So. Upon finding out that I had nearly been here a year, I decided very quickly that it was call for a celebration. Well, at least a reason to get drunk anyway (By the way has anyone seen what happens when you say to a Nord "I hope you get adequatly drunk?" Wierd.). More importantly, this concept couldnt be selfishly kept, oh no!

SO! My ExPatriot and soon to be ExPatriot friends! I call to you! If you have survived the culture shock, the Cuisine Le Anglais food crisis that is to be without proper gravy, the horribly and sensibly priced alchohol, the over bearingly polite to pedestrain drivers, TEA IN GLASSES, if you have survived a year, be it your first or another, celebrate. If we celebrate surviving a year on our birthday, surely this advancement in the survival process requires something extra. But wait! This day requires a name! Something catchy and memorable, that demands songs and antics that can be handed down to new arrivals.

Ideas?

Where to begin.... Again. (Language rant)

It occured to me recently (About five minutes ago actually), that learning a language feels like running a circuit. Yeah, lets go with that analoge for now. That circuit represents all of the knowledge you can accumulate in say a month. If its too big, you will probably fall over and die of a heart attack (analogy!), so keeping it small at first is good: Say so many words, so many grammital wotnots etc. Once you can run that circuit you make it a little bigger.

Where am I going with this? Around in circles. But not it seems in a bad way. Many Language coarses prech repetition. Remember the lines you had to write on the board in school, a hundred times: I will not put an angry cat in teachers bag? (What just me?). What you might of experienced there was the most basic form of education, kinesthetic learning. IE learning by physically doing it. My late French teacher once said that all things could be memorised by three simple steps. Reading, saying and writing it down, over and over again. Unless you accidently become an adept scribe, great at copying written works without actually reading them, it should help. many special needs kids go through this and hell if it works for them it works for you.

But I digress. What am I ranting about now? I have been here for around 9 months now and counting. I have achieved arguable quite a lot in terms of language acquisition it seems. However, even now I still screw up the most basic of things.

Pose. Bag. Vil du få en pose? Would you like a bag? I say it a lot in my current job and dear god how I am sick of getting it wrong. Having a customer standing infront of you wondering god knows what. (Would you like a pause with that? Would you like a pussy cat?) The problem lies in the utterances. The vowel O can be said in many different ways thanks to many languages and dialects, slangs and candences. WTF eva. Where I come from, we don't use that particular vowel sound required to say the word bag in Norwegian!! So, I must practice making a funny face while I try to make that sound that my ears are not trained to hear and my mouth it seems is not trained to make. Yet there is hope. Today, my readers. I said it right. I did a little dance! Im telling my those who read my blog even. I dont expect any of you to understand but I kind of hope one day you might.

So what advice can I give from this experience? That those circuits I talked of always return to the starting block? That no matter how good you get, revision is required? hard truth Im afraid.

Try this. http://www.omniglot.com/writing/norwegian.htm

The guy to writes on this website has learned about 8 languages fluently and countless as a side project. But this page describes Norwegian and even lets you listen to the alphabet and those pesky dipthong thingies. Say them along as you hear it. Leave it a day, go back and see if you can say the letter sounds a minisecond before they do. Are you right? If you leave it another day do you get better?

Bottom line is, if you can remember the alphabet. You CAN learn the language.

/Rant.

Thanks for reading.