Holidays, Later Days, Always

A turkey carrying a turkey...

When you're an expat, there are three, different ways you can spend a holiday:

1) You go back to your home native country.  This is, in most cases, the preferable route.  You go back to the place where you grew up, eat familiar foods, see familiar people, and pretend like everything isn't awkward.

2) You make the best of it in your current new home country.  You can scour the internets for recipes and/or beg your mom to mail you possibly customs violating goodies.  If your new land also celebrates the holiday (Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa… no) you can try to incorporate their traditions into your own (If your partner is from said country, "can try to" is replaced with "will"… Compromise is the spice of life!)

3) You can pretend like it's just another day even though it's not and nothing is open.  You can't even order Chinese food here on certain days.

Anyway, I tried doing #3 during the time I was in Belgium, it's not much fun (I remember subsisting on  cheese, bread, and jam on Good Friday… Ok.  There wasn't much cheese.  Or bread).  Since that experience, I've decided to only do #1 or #2.

As funds are tight and both Thanksgiving and the Christmas were over these past, two months, I did both.

THANKSGIVING

I'm not sure what's the best part of the trans-atlantic flight.  The moment the plane lifts off and the journey itself actually hits you or the moment you take your sip from the first, complimentary alcoholic beverage.  Thanks to SAS' draconian law of banning free booze on international flights (Btw, here's a list of airlines that keep their passengers lubed up… If there's not too big of a difference, definitely worth it to fly Lufthuansa), I only had the first option to choose.

Regardless, I landed home for the first time since the Ravens' won the Super Bowl (important to point out as this will be the first, post-season without play-offs in Baltimore since SRB took City Hall).

It was fun.  The food was awesome (Top, three meals I miss:  1) Wings; 2) Maryland Crabs; 3) Korean BBQ; 4) Fish Tacos… I know I said three, but I couldn't limit myself).

Though, the thing that's hardest about traveling home as an expat isn't the time away, it's what changes when you're away.

My parents had gotten older.  My siblings were becoming more like my parents.  I got to see my nephews and nieces.  They're growing up too fast.  I got to see my friends.  They're becoming the adults we thought we'd never be.  I got confused driving around the hometown I'd spent every summer in since 1986 (This was the first summer since then where I didn't spend a single day there).

The worst of all is that I felt behind in all the conversations.  Even if I'd been sitting in the room/car/bar stool for the beginning, I constantly felt myself saying "What?" and "Who?" during stories and talks with the people who'd once been so intricate in my daily life.  I couldn't pretend like it wasn't weird, because, often, the speaker was looking at me in just such a manner.

People asked me how come I hadn't been updating my blog.  I was surprised they were reading (Thanks, nation of 8,000!).  I didn't really have an answer I could tell them.  It feels weird and overdramatic to say what I really felt.  I didn't write because I didn't know what to say anymore.  I was a stranger to a life I had always lived.

CHRISTMAS

I landed back in Norway in early December.  I had to turn in my paper at the dreaded UDI to renew my residence permit.  I passed the weeks in labor disputes about some work I had performed (tl;dr) and unsuccessfully hiding the Christmas gift I'd purchased for my wife.

It also gave me time to savor/miss all the things I'd experienced when I was home.  Riding the metro.  Neighborhood bars.  Brunch.  Watching sports at normal hours.  The list goes on.

Though, soon it was time for the season.  We got a Christmas tree and were soon on our way across the mountains to her hometown.

And so we spent Christmas.

I got to celebrate many of the Norwegian traditions, like dancing around the Christmas Tree and drinking a lot of champagne (the picture on the website is from my first, Norwegian Christmas) and aquavit.

I enjoyed it.  The food was good (Pinnkjøtt and Ribbe!), I already said the drinks were good, but, the most important thing was that it was a home.  My wife's family and friends made me feel like I was apart of the group and not an outsider.

Which is an important thing.  As an expat, you're constantly straddling with one foot in both your native and present worlds.  It's not so much a balancing act (I realize the term "straddle" can intimate a need for balance), but one of a willingness to adapt and amend.

I've come to learn over this journey of being an expatriate that it's not about stripping anything away, but what one can add.

The life I live may not be one I set out to lead or one I'm fully comfortable in yet, but it's one that I'm happy to own.  It's not about what I don't have or am not anymore, but the things I'm building.  Stay with me.

I'm still building.

Thanks for reading and now a word from our sponsors…

ALT FOR NORGE

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Buy my non-Norway based book: http://www.amazon.co.uk/This-New-Normal-ebook/dp/B008M0GPW2

Ylvis, Boxing, Omskjæring, Failure... Just another week in Norway

So... the shutdown is over.  Guess it's time to write another blog post...

Let's catch up on some of the headlines that have been in the news here since my last post.

Just the tip?

You won't believe how many pictures I saw that I can't unsee trying to find this... you're welcome

As I mentioned in my last post, Norway is under new management.  With a new leading party comes new policies and laws.  One of those being lobbied now is a ban on circumcision (to be fair, this has been in the mill for some time, but, with the new coalition consisting of ombudsman that champion the idea... the possibility is a lot more likely).

Male circumcision.  (As female circumcision is banned in most of the world)

For those of you who don't know, Americans can get wound up about this type of thing (granted, we get wound up about a lot of things).  I would strongly prefer for my son to be circumcised (so much so that I've been bringing this up at dinner parties since I found this out... I'm so popular) as, it seems, do a lot of Americans.  In fact, when an American city tried to defer the procedure until the young man being snipped could have an input in the matter, a city council quickly stepped in to prevent such a measure from ever passing.

Conversely, the movement for banning the circumcision for boys under their teenage years seems to be the majority sentiment.  Looks like all future children of mine will have a date with mohel.

Norway will not be going to Brazil... to play soccer

Despite having a pretty advantageous group (Switzerland, Iceland, Albania, Cyprus... Norway is actually second in population among the countries involved.  Which is pretty staggering odds considering that Norway ranks #25 in European Country population), the Norwegians finished a distant fourth in their UEFA World Cup qualifying group.  On the plus side, fellow Scandinavian country, Iceland, will get a chance to make it to their first World Cup.  The Norwegians will have to wait until 2018 to break a drought which will have reached 24 years.  Adding to the drama is that the long-time, beloved coach was forced out contrary to his, and a large percentage of the board's, wishes.

A Way to Make a Bus Trip in Oslo Extremely Awkward

If you're on a packed bus using your ipad as a large ipod and your headphones come unplugged and you hit play when this song is cued up

Holyfield can come to Norway now!  

Among the many odd things that I've uncovered here in Norway, this may be the most peculiar.  As I previously mentioned, the world's reigning, female welterweight champion is Norwegian despite the fact that there has been a professional ban on boxing for over a century.  Not anymore!  The new coalition has put an order in motion to strike down the ban which should appease the aforementioned, Evander Holyfield, who vowed never to step foot on Norwegian soil until the ban was revoked.  That's a stand for human rights!

Seriously... The Fox song isn't what Norwegian music is about

I never went gold off one song

Do you know what the worse thing about telling a good joke really well?  Many people are going to not realize it is, indeed, a joke.

Reading the article in the headline reminds me of this "Simpsons" episode where Homer creates a song and then goes from amused to excited to overwhelm to disgusted by it.  Which is a shame because, by all accounts, they seem to be two, goofy guys who just enjoy hanging out and making people laugh (which makes them like virtually every other guy in Generation Y).  Though, having a song that's top 10 on itunes is a good problem to have.  

If you're one of the millions that enjoyed their video, please make sure to check out their other, funnier songs.  My personal favorite is "Work it" (even if Veronica Flores would probably find it racist)

ALT FOR NORGE

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Follow me on Twitter: @BoomerOSLO

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Innvandring og deg!

So it's been a week since I've last checked in.  What has changed?  Well... I have health insurance.

How did this happen?

Well, I had the great fortune of dealing with the Immigration services in Norway.  Due to being from America, I am allowed in to Schengen countries for three months without explicit documentation (i.e. visa, citizenship, etc.).  However, after those three months, I have to go back to my proud, healthy nation, unless I obtained a special waiver.

How hard could that be?

:(

After several hours of phone conversations (at one point, I was on hold for an hour... this is after being on hold, in previous conversations, for 20 and 30 minute periods) and misleading internet rhetoric (please pay the Government $500 for the right to be considered for a permit), an email response directed me to appear in person, which lead to the following three days.

Day 1:
After an hour of re-routing through a zigzag of lines and different deterrents, an agent informed us that I had to report to a different facility altogether.  Good thing the original trip didn't mean that we had to take a long, bus ride to the other side of town and miss work and school... oh wait, all of that did happen.

Day 2: After more hours of waiting in an "organized" line system.  There were 30 kiosks with various representatives all assigned to assist with various tasks from an immigrant changing their address to issuing work permits and tax IDs (in order to get a job, each immigrant is assigned a tax ID number which, immediately, deducts taxes from their pay.  Thus, even if an immigrant can finagle a way to stay illegally, their contribution to the state is still accounted... seems a lot easier than building a fence).  However, extension-seekers, information seekers, and jerks who didn't want to schedule an appointment online or on the phone, were siphoned off and were able to go to one kiosks only.

Oh, it gets better.

While the other kiosks could either call up people (based on their appointment) or DMV-style with a ticket machine, the separate kiosk resorted to a mid-twentieth century clusterfuck.  When I got there, it was an assortment of immigrants standing and sitting (yes, you could be in-line and not actually "in line") around and not everyone spoke English or Norwegian (I don't really speak Norwegian, but I can ask simple questions like: "er du i faen linje!?!?").  Finally, I found the end of the line which, slowly, became the front of the line.  When my turn came up, I was informed that I had all the requisite paperwork (Resume/CV, passport, and, in order to gain the extension, I had to prove I was a "skilled" worker which required a copy of my college diploma because, you know, every American carries that around with them on job interviews or other important tasks to prove their scholarly merits), except for my documentation of health insurance.

Norway requires everyone to have health insurance.  If you're a citizen or employed, they provide it to you.  If you're not, you have to provide it for yourself.

My inner Mitch McConnell almost came out!

(Let's stop right here and let me assure you that I, wholeheartedly, agree and support Norway's healthcare statute... I'd just prefer that it didn't directly, negatively, impact me)

moving on...

This news caused me to race out of the facility and print out my proper documentation (thanks, nearby internet cafe... don't try the coffee!).  However, when I returned to the center to complete the process, the kiosk closed before I could make it back to the front.  You see, while the center was open from 8:45 to 4, the lone kiosk that could help me had operating hours of 9 - 12.

Day 3:
As I shivered infront of the facility with the other immigrants, I realized that I was losing patience with everything.  I had already missed a day and a half of class and I was not interested in expanding that tally by much more.  A quick visual survey allowed me to confirm that many of the people waiting to get in had the same destination that I had.  I began scheming out how I would weave in and around the elderly and women pushing strollers (yes, the monstrous, barnevogn from my previous post) to get to the forefront of the line.  A large gate held us out and, at 8:50 (Norwegians have a very tenuous grasp on time in many commercial and civic ventures.  The previous day, the kiosk had shut down at 11:50), two diminutive security guards (another odd quirk, everyone working at this center was female... security, cleaners, servicemen... everyone) slid the gate up and a mad rush was on.

It wasn't a mad rush, per se.  Though, it was very intense.  Small children were brushed by, pamphlets and forms were slightly rustled in the wake.

I got through and am now free to be here through Mid-June.  By free, I mean I am able to stay here and pay a lot of money for goods and services in the hopes of finding a job and longer sponsorship.

Alt for Norge!