Tuesday, 11. July 2006, 08:45:10
Kudos to the writer [LINK=http://www.fisma.fi/]

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What an interesting few weeks.
To review for those not paying attention: In December, I came to Finland from
the States. In January, I got married to a Swedish Finn. In early April, my
residency permit was approved.
Went to the jobs office awhile back. Looking for some manual labor/trained
monkeys could do it type of job because I don't know the language so shit jobs
are alright by me.
Absolutely no talk of employment, but I did get a listing of ways to get
unemployment benefits. (say wha?) Yes, the government employment office was
suggesting I go on welfare, basically.
Oh, about those benefits. I would have a 5 month waiting period before getting
these benefits, unless I A- find a job but get no pay for it (which would
undoubtedly be easier to find than a paying job), or B- Go through Integration
Education.
Yeah, going to school sounds like a better option than functional slave labor.
So there's this Swedish-speaking school that does this integration thing.
Swedish, Finnish, and Society, Culture, and Religion. It's a religious school,
did I mention that? ffuuunnnn
But no big deal. I did a 2 week intensive Swedish class in this school in early
June, and aside from the creepy songs and dances the kids sang every day in the
cafeteria at lunchtime before eating (CULT CULT CULT CULT CULT... teaching
children religion CREEPS ME OUT), it didn't seem oppressive or anything. (And if
I could figure out how to say o, å, and ö distinctly and separately, I would be
a fabulous singer. But I'm not, because my vocal control just isn't that good.
argh. And figuring out which verb is the present tense for gick or gjorde is
beyong me. Fucking argh.)
But I need basically a physical exam to go, plus proof of various vaccinations.
I had my mother send my vaccination records. And I need updates, apparently.
Nobody ever told me I needed to revaccinate some things every so often. I
haven't been to a doctor since 1998, and that was for pink eye. Before that it
may very well have been my physical in 1991 before wrestling season my senior
year of high school. The wife tried explaining to me how the health system
worked here but either she explained badly or the system makes no sense.
Basically such exams are supposed to be (mostly?) paid for because of the Very
Civilized And Compassionate Finnish Health Care System. TM.
(so, to review: To go to school, I need blood work and vaccinations. To enter
the country, get married, and get a residency permit, I needed nothing. Check.)
My wife's mother works in a hospital. Scheduled an appointment for me there.
But, she calls back, it's in another town and since I'm registered as living in
Vaasa and not Oravainen, I have to go to my Vaasa "health station" or there
might be problems with payment being taken care of.
I fucking hope emergency and ambulance care is handled differently. "Oh sorry
that you were in a car crash in Helsinki and are bleeding to death, an ambulance
from your health station in Vaasa is on the way, just lay there on the pavement
for about eight hours. Unless you'd like our Super Extra Care option at added
cost? Sign here."
Apparently we're in some nebulous zone between specific "health station". The
wife calls up one, and there's an answering service (during normal regular hours
during the day not on a weekend). Explains that they don't do vaccinations and
bloodwork and physical examinations during the summer. I need to go to a private
clinic.
W
T
F
ahem. Health care is seasonal here? Even the wife thought that was... off. So
she calls the other health station. The same answering service. Lovely. So she
calls her mother back and I have an appointment at the Oravainen hospital next
week, since payment is now a non(solvable)-issue.
You know, I was always vehemently against government being involved in health
care when I lived in the States, and my first experience dealing with Socialized
Medicine (heehee!) isn't changing my mind.
If they can find a fucking vein in less than five tries when I get blood drawn,
maybe I'll think better of it. If they take more than three tries, I am
demanding another needlepoker. I hate that shit. ARGH. *poke poke poke* "I can't
find the vein." *poke poke poke* "Wow, it's not usually this difficult. *poke
poke poke. JUST SLICE MY THROAT OPEN AND COLLECT MY SPURTING BLOOD IN A COFFEE
CUP, IT WOULD HURT LESS AND MAKE ME LESS ANGRY.
ahem.
And I hope they don't need a lot of blood. I went to give blood as a date thing
back in 1995 and ended up on my ass for two hours. You see, we were going out to
eat right after so I didn't eat anything all day before going to give blood...
ahem.
Back to Finland-specific issues.
IT IS HOT. HEAT. HOT. IN SCANDINAVIA. IN FINLAND. IT'S FUCKING HOT. Over 30
degrees Celsigrade (that's 86+ degrees in regular temperatures), over 35 (95+)
if you look at a thermometer in direct sunlight. Which apparently gives very
incorrect readings if you believe the locals, because "the sun shining on it
makes it hotter."
Must.
Resist.
Urge.
To.
Kill.
ahem.
Now, I lived in Atlanta for 12 years. Orlando for a total of about 6. I know
hot. And it was never this bad. In fact, summer in Georgia and Florida is
PARADISE compared to summer in Finland. Why, you ask? Two words.
AIR CONDITIONING.
It's a novel concept, and one I hope to someday see come across the pond. When
the temperature is, you know, BOILING, and you maybe want to be, you know, NOT
BOILING, you turn on this thing that COOLS THE AIR.
NOBODY HAS AIR CONDITIONING HERE. Some businesses do. If there are goods needing
to be refrigerated. I went to a bank today (more on that later), and no air
conditioning. Several stores, NO AIR CONDITIONING.
FUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK.
So let's review.
In the winter, everybody complains (except me) about how cold and miserable it
is and how everything is drab and grey. I love cold weather. But everybody does
everything in the summer, I was told. (and the heating in the houses are based
on these mysterious radiator thingies with no holes in them... you just turn a
knob and they magically heat up to some unknown degree, so you spend all day
turning knobs against every wall in the place trying to luck into the correct
amount of heat where you're not sweaty but no longer cold. I just turn them off,
put on my Cthulhu slippers, and say "Cold is awesome.")
Now that I'm in summer, everybody sits around and complains how fucking hot it
is. Not just me, Finns. But I guess it's easier to be miserable and do stuff in
less clothing that never gets you cool enough no matter how naked you get than
it is to be miserable and do stuff when you can pile enough clothes on to be at
a comfortable temperature.
There are several things preventing people getting cooler.
We just moved to a new apartment. Double the space of the old place. It has
SEPARATE ROOMS so me and the wife are not literally less than ten feet from each
other every single moment we are home. It helped our relationship tremendously.
We can afford it now because of MY WELFARE MONEY that will be coming in. No
shit. Yes, we moved now based on money that I am supposed to be getting for
going to a school I haven't started yet and don't have the proper paperwork for
due to the "health center" issue. Color me fucking amused!
I'm using fuck a lot because no other word will do in this situation.
There are three windows that open in the entire place. Three. And they are tiny.
1' x 2' maybe? We've fitted them with screens. And put heavy curtains over the
rest of the window array (HUGE in each room) because the sun shines in and COOKS
us. We're on the second floor so it's necessary to have screens so Kitty doesn't
decide to jump out the window.
We've invested in multiple fans. Somehow, being close enough to the fan in my
computer/office area to feel the breeze irritates my eye, making them bloodshot
and achey. Fucking hell. I can't win.
So I sweat. A lot. Really, I'm disgustingly gross around the house because I
continuously sweat a copious amount. I thought, "OK, maybe it's just because I'm
husky," but no. Skinny Finnish people have sweated in my apartment as well.
Kitty just lays down. Has all this space to run around in and she's not
interested. It's HOT.
And the wife goes on about how awesome the new place is.
IT'S HOT.
So we went to the wife's grandparents' "summer house" today. A summer house
seems to be a house that people get so they have someplace on the waterfront. It
has no running water (so no toilets) and only the electricity a solar panel
provides. "So you can turn on a lamp" I was told). But it provides swimming
opportunities. This family has huge tracks of land and a waterfront house that
sits idle the vast majority of the year and I keep being told they're poor. I am
not so easily fooled.
Some of the wife's older relatives were there, and we went to talk to them on
the rocks by the shore.
FINLAND HAS GIANT MUTANT MONSTER CHERNOBYL FLIES. No shit. Not just common
houseflies, not the horseflies with green glowing eyes that I encountered often
on the beach growing up in Connecticut. No. Nooooooo. These things land on you,
TEAR OUT YOUR FLESH, and then eat it in front of you while they laugh.
The wife has a supersecret Swedish word for them. There is no English word for
these kinds of flies, she said. So I dub these flies GIANT MUTANT MONSTER
CHERNOBYL FLIES.
In all seriousness, no exaggeration, I'm standing there talking and I feel bug
bites. I swat. Sometimes I just shake a leg or an arm. OK. Bugs, outside, by the
water, in summer. Cool. I look down and I have several open bloody wounds. Not
"I swatted the mosquito and it was full and it smeared red," but "I am bleeding
because of the chunks these GIANT MUTANT MONSTER CHERNOBYL FLIES tore out of my
flesh." Seriously. No bullshit. Fucking hell.
But that's not all.
I went to the bank today with the wife, to open my account. With the government
money I'll be getting, I want some say and knowledge of the family finances. The
way it's worked so far is the wife handles all the money (she gets government
money from August-May as she's a student so aside from June and July it's not
like this is her earned money) and then gives me a few euros to spend as she
sees fit like I'm 10 years old or something. If my money is necessary to afford
this bigger place, this gives me leverage. A say in what we spend fun money on
and what our grocery trips will look like.
An example of why the wife isn't exactly to be trusted to act fairly with fun
money:
I had ordered this CD from Kråklund Shåp here in town. I could have gotten it
over the internet but I like this place and if it's available there, I'll get it
there. It was on Metal Blade so I figure they can get it in no problem. Several
weeks later the wife and I are in town and I want the money to go pick this
thing up. "No," she says. "You don't need another CD right now." Even though she
OK'd my ordering the CD from this place to begin with. Fuckin' awesome, right?
Well there are vendors in the town square selling all sorts of things. Including
(very likely bootleg) heavy metal band shirts! This one stall had cool Manowar
and Iron Maiden shirts. 15\u20ac each, or two for 28\u20ac said the stall seller
dude. What a good deal! Now, they were only in XL and I'm a big boned 2XL kind
of guy. But this was before that Swedish class so I would be walking two hours a
day back and forth from school for two weeks so I figured I could do an XL at
the end of that. The wife agrees to get me two (HOLY CRAP!)... and after she
buys them she complains to me, "He ripped me off. He said two for 20\u20ac!" I
correct her. He had said 28\u20ac.
But the point is, instead of letting me buy one CD she'd already OK'd for
17-18\u20ac, she buys me two shirts in a size that didn't currently fit me for
28\u20ac, plus thought she got ripped off without saying a damn thing handing
over her money.
She also buys baby clothes and childrens books for a child we plan to have
someday, as in not before a couple years from now,
So I need my own bank account.
In the bank, the representative who would set everything up didn't do English.
Fair enough, my wife could translate. She acted almost (but not quite) put out
by my asking, you know, questions about costs of international bank transfers
and things I know I will be doing with my account. So we go through all of that
and then some forms are printed out for me to sign. Contracts, basically.
Now I've signed all sorts of paperwork without reading it because the wife was
also signing (the lease for the new place, for instance). Figure what the hell,
she goes down with me if something's screwy. But this bank account was in my
name only. Two or three pages of Swedish legal mumbo jumbo about my account. The
wife tells me "Sign this." I say "Read it to me first." She looks shocked.
"Why?"
Yeah, I really do need my own bank account.
The bank representative realized this was a good time for a coffee break.
I eventually signed because I didn't want to cause a scene with the wife in a
bank office but I still don't know what half that stuff said. I'm obliged to
provide three months work in the salt mines every five years for all I know.
*sigh*
Did I mention it's hot and I have radioactive wounds from GIANT MUTANT MONSTER
CHERNOBYL FLIES?
Someone, seriously, start a central heating and air installation business here.
YOU WILL MAKE MILLIONS AND MILLIONS AND MILLIONS and still die half poor because
of the tax rate. But at least your health care will be provided for you for
three months out of the year.
It really is a foreign country over here.
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