“Theresa Mailed a Letter.”
That title reminds me more of a children’s book than an adult expat’s blog. But the thing is, I am kind of like a child here. Someone on one of my social media groups said it best when another member was complaining about the difficulty of finding work here without knowing Swedish. He said, “Look, basically you are like a four-year-old until you learn their language. “
And he is right. I have to ask for everything, in English, and hope that the clerk will be happy to oblige me in my ignorance. Luckily for me, right now, Swedish people seem to really enjoy speaking in English. English is taught universally in schools, so speaking English well is a mark of education, prestige. The only non-English speakers are older Swedes and immigrants from non-English speaking countries. And even then, older Swedes often understand English but are shy about using it.
I understand that too. I am picking up new words every day, especially written words, but I am a little terrified of having to actually use them. It is not helpful to my long-term learning that everyone is so quick to put me out of my misery and converse in English.
One small advantage that I have is that I look like I should speak Swedish, so often clerks speak to me in Swedish first and I make it a game to see how far I can go without admitting that I have no idea what they have just said. There have been many times that I have interacted with a cashier, never saying a word, only understanding half of what he said, and he never knew it. I am pretty good with nonverbal cues, and it is amazing how far that goes.
Hi.
Is this all you want?
Great. Put your credit card there.
Sign there.
Take that stuff you just bought.
See you later.
Tack!
But some basic adult life tasks require more than just language acquisition skills. Simply being able to speak the same language is not enough. Customs and etiquette are different. In fact, the whole government system of health care and schools and registration is just a little bit different here. A small task that I took for granted at home can seem like a mini crisis here, like mailing a registration form to a government office.
So let’s break it down.
The first step is to translate the form. That is not too difficult with Google Translate, but even if Google Translate fails, I can always call the government office, wait on hold forever while thinking about my American mobile phone bill’s international calling plan. Once I have the form filled, I have to get to a post office and mail it.
And here is complication number two. It has been explained to me that Sweden does not have post offices any more. They don’t use checks either, so if you need to make a payment that is a whole different set of hoops beginning with trips to the migration office and the tax office, then fingerprinting and official ID photographs, culminating in several in-person, appointment-only visits to the bank before you can make an electronic payment. It literally takes weeks, if not months, before you can electronically send someone money, a big problem for newcomers in an almost cashless society.
But assuming that all I need to do is mail the form, I have found that it works to smile and ask people in English, “Excuse me, how do I mail a letter?”
And if they are heartless and under 30 they look at you like you are a 4-year-old.
Duh. Put a stamp on it and put it in one of the yellow boxes that are everywhere.
But where do I get a stamp if there are no post offices?
You can buy them at grocery stores, office supply stores. You know, the same places that you can buy stamps in the US.
Oh, of course. I can do that.
And they are right. It is really easy. Even a 4-year-old could do it.
