The Norwegian health care system

First, a caveat: this is just my personal experience, I don't intend to judge the entire system based on it.

Well, as a foreigner, after moving to Norway you need to register at the police. In my case this was fast 3-4 days, but in A.'s case it took over a month. Once it is approved you need to apply for a personal number. Then wait for 2-3 months and you finally get it. Next step, you enroll in the health care system and pick a doctor. I asked a few people how to pick a doctor (they give you a list of available doctors in a given location and the number of patients he or she has) and they said it depends on whether you want a woman or a man, and location. I said I just wanted one that spoke English and they all replied not to worry, they all do. So I picked one (foreign sounding name, average number of patients) and set up an appointment (2 weeks in advance). If you are counting, I moved here in August and finally got an appointment late November.

On the day of the appointment I get out of work early, head to the doctor and the secretary tells me that the doctor had to run out and is a bit late. I asked how late and she said 5 min. I waited for 45min and then finally caught the doctor between patients to ask when she'd see me. Surprise, surprise... she does not speak English (and I thought a foreign sounding name would...). In the mean time the secretary (who speaks English and knows I don't speak Norwegian) has left for the day. So the leaving patient helps translate as the doctor asks me to come back the next day so that the secretary can help translate. I guess this is where I should have changed doctors (you are allowed to do so once a year) but I didn't...

Next day comes, I go back to the doctor, wait for 1 hour and then I finally see the doctor. First she wants to charge me for the appointment I missed yesterday. I explain that I was here at the given time, she wasn't and that I left because I needed a translator and she told me to come back today. She finally agrees. Then I explain that I want to do a test to see if I have a blood clotting disorder that runs in my family. I mean, I know I don't have it, but I want to know if my (potential) kids could have it. She says "yes, yes", doesn't ask me any other questions and sends me off with the secretary to get a blood sample. Before leaving I ask the secretary and she says she will let me know when the results come in.

3 weeks later, no results, I decide to call. The secretary answers, finds the results and says: "It says it is ok". I ask: "What is ok? Yes or no?". Secretary: "Result is ok.". "What does that mean?". "Well, if you want to know what that means you have to come in for an appointment." Appointment scheduled for last week.

On Friday I show up at the doctor's office and a different (much nicer) secretary asks me to wait. An hour drags by... And then I'm called in and explain I've come to get the results of the blood test. The doctor logs into the computer, finds my file and announces (through translation): "The test was not done because the procedure has changed and they need a different sample". Now, why did the secretary tell me the results were ok??? I know this is not life threatening for me, but what if it was a different test and she gave out false results?? I breathe in... out... And the doctor says she doesn't know what type of test, and would have to consult a hematologist. I ask if I can go to the hematologist instead, or the hospital where they would do the test directly but am strictly told that this is not possible. So I should come back on Monday, but I don't even need to wait in line, all that is needed is a quick phone call to the hospital and a blood sample. Sigh...

Monday comes, I go to the office (mid morning), explain the situation to the secretary (the one that gave me false results), she's dismissive and asks me to wait. An hour later I ask if the doctor has called the hospital and she says that the doctor is busy. Finally I'm called in, just to have the doctor announce (through translation) that I will have to do the test at the hospital directly. So she gives me a form with the request for the test and I leave thinking that I should have changed doctors earlier in the process (it would take 2 weeks to change names in the system and another 2 weeks to set an appointment, so I don't think an extra month is worth it) but maybe, just maybe, I can now get the damn results!

I call the hospital to check where I need to go and finally find someone that knows about the test I need to do, and explains that indeed it is a blood test and that I can walk in at the hospital and get the test done any day. So I did... and asked the lady how I'd get the results. She said they will be sent to your doctor (horror strikes my face) and she will notify you... Now what?????????

Coffee shops (or, the best of the US, part 2)

While living in the US I basically worked out of coffee shops. And this was a personal choice as most times I did have an office. But in general I like people around me, I don't mind the noise and being in a coffee shop makes me feel like work is not "work" but more of an excuse to hang out in my favorite spots. Plus graduate studies can make you work weird hours, so being able to go to a coffee shop made working Saturday morning and the occasional evening less boring. Both in Blacksburg and then in Raleigh I had my favorite spot, where I knew the owners and even had a favorite table. Usually I choose small, independent, cozy places. Having a couch is a plus, and baked goodies as well. I go there so often that I end up knowing other people, and it becomes almost a hand out spot.

When moving to Oslo I was impressed early on by the amount of coffee shops around. It seems like every block has one! And the very first day I went to try them out, but soon realized there is a huge problem with the coffee shops here. I searched everywhere, went to 5 or 6 while walking down the streets to no avail... they have no wifi! On the 6th they told me that I could find wifi at McDonald's. I was ashamed... I always avoid fast food chains and here I am, at McDonald's for the sake of internet.

Yeah, I know I don't need internet to do 90% of my job, but being available on skype is a must if I'm not at the office and being able to do google searches expedites problem solving when I'm stuck (and, of course, emails and facebook entertain as well). So, despite all the variety in coffee shops around here (and in Paris, and Spain) I admit I miss the coffee shops in the US a LOT.

PS- Never mind that I don't like coffee... who says you cannot have tea at a coffee shop? :P

What does a Brazilian look like?

Yesterday I had a meeting with another professor and a Norwegian Master's student who wants to write her dissertation on Brazil. When I arrive in his office they are already there and he (professor) introduces me to the girl (student): "This is Samba, she's from Brazil."
The girl's eyes pop, she stares at me and then lets out: "But you don't look Brazilian!"
Me: "It's hard to define what a Brazilian looks like..."
The professor chuckles, and says: "You mean that Pelé looks different?!"
Student: "Yeah, he does..."
Professor: "Samba, what's the proportion of European descendants in the Brazilian population?"
Me: "48%"
Student: "REALLY??"
Professor, clearly enjoying himself: "And what is the percentage of Afro-Brazilians?"
Me (thankfully, by coincidence I had just looked up some other info in Wikipedia recently and remembered the numbers): "About 7%."
Professor: "And native Americans?"
Me: "Less than 1%."
Professor: "So what is the rest?"
Me: "About 1% is of Asian origin and the rest is mixed race (44%)".
Professor, turning to girl: "See, Brazil is a big mix".
Student: "I guess so..."

Yes, Brazil is a huge mix! And race does not come into the equation as often as in other countries. I am proud to say that walking down the streets in Brazil is the place A. and I feel most inconspicuous: no one even notices us! But this was not the first time I've had such a conversation. Shortly after I got to the US for my Masters I was told by a professor that I was "too white to be Brazilian". Obviously my opinion of him dropped a few points...

And then there are other seemingly unknown facts about Brazil:
- Language: we're the only country in South America that speaks Portuguese. And yes, the only official language is Portuguese. You can go from one end of the country to the other and all that will change is the slang and some accents. People that get this wrong usually assume we speak Spanish (even though we're surrounded by Spanish speakers VERY few Brazilians speak it)... but once a friend was asked if we spoke Russian!!!
- Location: South America. On the Atlantic Ocean. Once in Florida (3 hours flight to the North of Brazil) a guy asked me where I was from and after the answer he replied: "Wow, I've never traveled that far, the furthest I've been was China...". Maybe he thought I meant Mars...
- Size: Brazil is big. It is larger than the continental US, which means it is approximately 3 times the size of India. It occupies 47% of South America and is as wide as it is long (could be made into a square :P ). No one believes this one...
- São Paulo is twice the size of New York. And Rio de Janeiro is the same size as the Big Apple.
- The national capital is Brasília (not Rio) and was built where before 1950 there was absolutely nothing, right in the middle of the country.

So maybe before the student decides to write a dissertation about Brazil she could start with the wikipedia page...
In her defense the dissertation will not be about Brazilian society.

Travel logistics

While living in the US, A. and I did several road trips. In general we'd have an idea of where the highlights of the trip would be and then would divide up the days according to how much we liked a place and how much we felt like driving. This meant that we usually did not have any hotels booked (except sometimes for a special date like New Year's Eve when I got an amazing deal on Priceline). As we were getting tired of traveling we'd check the road map for the next town and call up orbitz or hotwire to book the cheapest deal (we don't have fancy phones... they only make calls and write text messages). This means we usually got a road side USD$29.99 deal which was perfect for an overnight stop. Sometimes we also went camping, and then we'd stop at State Parks and ask for vacancies (this only failed once, in the Florida Keys between Xmas and New Years, when we ended up setting up our tent in a KOA packed with RVs... A. vowed never to spend another night at a KOA ;).

Yeah right... Planning? Validating?? Booking???

Now in Europe travel is quite different. First of all, no car: we don't even have driver's licenses! (US driver licenses expire on the same date as your US visa... and we never bothered to get them again here since we don't even have a car). Trains and buses abound, but you need to check ahead of time to make sure you have enough time for connections, etc. Plus, ironically, flights are usually cheaper, especially when booked 2+ weeks ahead of time. This means more travel planning is needed... Plus, hotels are not chains (good!) but they come in all sorts of qualities (good and bad). So some more online research is needed before booking.

In our Spain trip I had planned the transport and accommodation for the whole first week (a personal feat!) and even printed them all out (just to forget them at home...)! After the first week we were meeting a couple of friends that were traveling in Morocco and would cross to Spain to travel with us for a week. All of us agreed that we'd decide where to go where we met and no plans were made. Overall it worked quite well, internet research at hostels about next destinations helped a lot and we even "found" a place like this:

'

Ronda: a little Roman, then Moor, then Spanish town right on the edge of a cliff.

  The only issue was where to stay. While we liked the option of having a kitchen at hostels it usually does not pay to stay there as a couple. Hostels are usually 50% of the price of a cheap hotel per person, meaning that if you travel by yourself it cuts costs by half, but if you are 2 people it comes to about the same cost as a hotel. Some hostels are worth it when traveling with more people because you also have a social area and other amenities but the ones we encountered were VERY bare-bones. The other thing is that by deciding where to go on a whim we also ended up spending more money than otherwise in trains and buses. Oh well... the pros and cons of flexibility...

Trains in Spain (or the best of India part I)

From Madrid we took the train to Barcelona. I had bought the tickets ahead of time and was surprised to find that there was a €4 difference between "turista" class and "preferente". The cost of the train was also similar to a night's hotel, and there were fast train options (3 hours) or overnight (cheaper, 9 hours). Based on the India train experiences I decided to buy overnight tickets to save on hotel and splurge a bit getting "preferente" (supposedly each compartment had just 2 beds and a washbasin) instead of "turista" (AC 2 tier in India, meaning 4 beds in each compartment). I told A. about the tickets and we were super excited about the trip. Traveling by train was new for me in India and I quite like it. For A. it is reminiscent of childhood travels with his family and his favorite form of travel.

What I had imagined...

We find our coach and get in, just to find compartment with 6 seats each! I wonder whether we got something wrong, but wait for a second. Soon a family of 4 Brazilians settles into the other 4 seats and it is pretty crammed. We are all disappointed and A. decides to take a look at what other compartments look like. He comes back chuckling... saying that there is another "preferente" coach with 8 seats in each compartment and finally the "turista" coach with resembles an airplane setup so we should not complain. Oh well... not much we could do, we were tired from walking around all day and there was no one to ask questions around.

And what we got (minus the vintage look and the stuffy seats, ours were plastic covered).

We then realize that the seats slide down to form beds... but the other half of the bed is the seat in front of you!  That means that there could be 3 beds in a compartment... A. and I switch seats with the Brazilians so we can face each other and turn our seats into a "bed" and try to both fit in. To say it was uncomfortable is the least... not just the complete lack of space but also smelling A.'s socks right in my nose :P Soon the Brazilian family realized that we were blocking the exit (to the bathroom) and asked us to move to the window seats... some more shuffling around and repositioning ourselves later, we try to sleep. Not easy. 

Finally at some point late into the night the ticket collector came, checked our tickets and I asked him if we could move to a compartment next door which was empty. He said ok, but he did not know if anyone else would come to take those seats in the 9 stops the train made throughout the night. The risk was worth taking and we quickly shifted again (to the relief of the family and our own). Having the compartment to ourselves allowed us to have a bed each and we fell asleep. Next thing we hear is the alarm clock telling us it is almost arrival time in Barcelona. This means no one needed our seats... which begs the question of why would they fill a compartment if several others are empty in the same coach!

Oh I missed you!

And for the price we paid, I missed this one!

Indian trains may be sometimes late, not so tidy but at least you can sleep flat on your back! (Plus get nice meals!!)

Madrid: where do you fit?

After a few days roaming around Madrid (where the skies were blue and the temperature was around 13oC/55oF, which felt like Summer after Oslo), on our last evening there we left aside the city map and just headed in a random direction. Soon we were out of the touristy section and in a more residential area where people walking briskly were on the street (not the two-steps-and-stop or wavering walk associated with tourists trying to take the sights in). We kept on walking and suddenly the grocery stores, butchers, bakeries, etc were replaced by signs in Spanish and Chinese and stores selling cheap clothes and plastic stuff from China appeared. Not just the stores, but the people working there were also Asians. Soon some Pakistanis were also in sight, working at kebab stores or elsewhere (A. was identifying them by the bits of language he could pick up). And then the streets became narrower and less lit, fewer people were on the streets and only the occasional bar brought some noise. As a developing country person I instinctively became alert to my surroundings, a feeling that this might not be the place to be at night. At the same time I sensed A. relaxing, walking easier and looking around with greater interest and curiosity.

Later we were sitting at a tea shop with a hookah and a bunch of locals (a mix of Spanish, Urdu, Punjabi and Arabic was floating around but none looked like tourists) and A. mentioned how much at ease he feels in immigrant neighborhoods. I thought it was odd, as I would usually avoid these areas when traveling by myself, especially at night. I usually sense that people look at me funny, as if wondering what this gori is doing in this part of town. For A. on the other hand, it was the place in the city where he usually finds acceptance, where he is the same as the others and, especially, where there is good food. Not being a Western cuisine fan (although he's increasingly taking a liking for baguettes with olive oil ;), A. always finds a falafel stand, a Middle Eastern hole in the wall, a Chinese entrepreneur in the middle of Venice or even the occasional Indian eateries in these neighborhoods. We realized that we have opposite instinctive reactions to less lit immigrant neighborhoods when we travel in the West, while I avoid them or approach them as a stranger (or, sometimes even don't consider them the "original" country experience I came to see), A. seeks them out, giving him a glimpse of what life could be like if he lived there, or bringing him a step closer to home.

I must admit that when  in India for too long I do seek out a bakery or pizza though, so I guess we are not that different after all.

Start of the adventure

Hi everyone and sorry for disappearing... After the hectic end of the semester A. and I took off to Spain (since we could not go to Marocco, we went as far South within Schengen as possible).

Early on the 18th I took a flight to Paris, met A. and in the evening we had a flight to Madrid (don't ask why I went to Paris first... all for cheapest tickets!). It was snowing hard when the flight took off in Oslo, but no one missed a heartbeat, except for a few minutes the plane stood on the runway while being deiced.

Paris was nice, cold but nice, during the day and we arrived early to take the bus to the airport and then it started to snow. To get to the Beauvais airport (70km or 55 miles North of Paris) we usually take a 1.5 hour bus straight to the airport and it is recommended you take the bus 3 hours in advance. We were there 4 hours early and decided to grab a bite before heading out. That's when I realized that the boarding passes I had meticulously printed out beforehand had been forgotten in A.'s apartment. This would not be a problem in any other airline, but Ryanair, with their ridiculously low fares, tries to get some money out of their passengers by any means possible, including charging you €40 to print your boarding pass in case you do not bring it with you. This resulted in us rushing around the mall frantically searching for an internet cafe to get a printout (since we refused to pay additional €40 each on a flight that cost us €20 in the first place). Finally we found it at a hotel a block away. The printer wasn't working! It printed out my boarding pass but not A.'s! Precious minutes passed (as we were now very close to the time we should have taken the bus) and finally another printer popped out the boarding card! We rushed back to the bus stop while snow kept falling densely... as we were approaching we realized there was a large crowd gathered around the ticket booth, but I supposed it was just holiday passenger traffic. We arrived just in time to hear the announcement:
"Buses have been cancelled due to a city ordinance forbidding buses on the roads due to the snow. Planes are leaving as scheduled though so you have to figure out how to get to the airport on your own."

Can't believe this is actually an iphone game!

This lead to everyone scattering around and a mad race to get cabs. People were spreading out along the streets and jumping on any taxi that came by, asking if they would go to Beauvais. Most didn't. Some said they were not allowed to go that far and others said the snow was too bad. We finally got a cab, jumped in and added 2 more people to share the cost. As we headed out of the city, everything seemed to be ok, and since we still had 3 hours before the flight we were all confident. Leaving the city and taking the highway we noticed the road had not been salted and it continued to snow fiercely. Soon we were down to 30km/h (20 miles/hour) and following a long row of cars going in the same direction. After a while we saw a car literally sliding down while trying to take an uphill exit that had too much snow and ice (also, no one has snow tires here). From here on things got scary. There was about 5cm/2 inches of slush on the road and we were making very slow progress. The number of cars had decreased considerably, many just stopping by the side of the road. Then came a section of the road that was iced and some cars had slid into the ditch next to the road. Our driver kept crawling on, but a too optimistic turn of the steering wheel made us slide about 2 m/yards sideways. We stopped somehow and he managed to get back on track. A few seconds later (which felt like hours) we slid again, now almost into the ditch. We all get out of the car and try to push it, just to realize that we were sliding on the ice too. Fortunately the driver managed to steer the car back into the road and we continued the drive, an inch at a time. Then salvation came in the shape of a salting truck! We finally managed to follow right behind it and as we approached the airport we realized it had snowed a lot less there. The other girl in the cab called a friend who checked on the airline and they said the flight was on time. We arrived at the airport at 9pm when our flight was due to leave at 8:55pm.

I ran into the airport, straight to the check in counter, while A. got out bags. There they announced that the check in was closed and that we had missed the flight. There were some girls crying close to the counter but I decided to run to the gate (it is a small airport). The monitor said the plane was still boarding. I asked the lady at the gate and she also said it was too late. Then A. caught up with me, and asked again, saying we were late due to the storm, please, etc, etc. A guy then said ok, I'll check, and came back seconds later, asking if we had checked baggage (no) and let us in the gate!! He still had to run to check in to get a stamp for A.'s boarding pass (since he needed to have his visa checked) and then got us through security quickly. In total about 8 people were allowed on the plane late and as soon as the last of us boarded the plane's door was closed.

Whew!