Thursday, April 17, 2008

week numbers

I thought this was just something done in my lab, because of a weird payroll/timekeeping system. It's apparently a Norwegian thing, though. Possibly a European one.

I'm talking about the habit of referring to periods of time via the numbers of the given weeks in the year. For example, I received a note from my apartment complex saying that the entrance locks will be changed sometime in the next few weeks. Instead of saying "the next few weeks", though -- or even something like "the last half of April" or "4/22 - 5/10" -- the note said "weeks 17-19". What?

That's how they apparently do it, though. At least sometimes. And I'm not sure whether or not Norwegians actually have the numbers of the weeks of the year memorized, as with months. If I said "week 43", would a Norwegian immediately know that that's in October, or would he have to look it up on the Microsoft Outlook calendar, as I just did?

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

time

Norwegians have a bizarre method of informing others of the time of day. For one thing, when the big hand is on the 6, Norwegians say that the time is half of whatever time it will be in 30 minutes. So 9:30 would be "half 10", 10:30 would be "half 11", and so on.

That's minor, though. The stranger thing is that whenever the big hand is somewhere on the lower half of the clock, the reference point becomes the 6 rather than the 12. So, 9:30 would be "5 after half 10", 10:20 would be "10 to half 11", 5:33 would be "3 after half 6", and so on. I have no idea how Norwegian civilization advanced with such an unnecessarily complicated and long method of expressing time.

Moreover, they don't have an a.m./p.m. to express morning and night. Sure, they use the 24-hour clock sometimes, but that's a relatively recent adoption. Before that, I'm assuming they had to add "in the morning" or "in the evening" or some such to every expression of time.

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

taxes

I heard from a couple of people very recently that foreigners working in Norway are eligible for a tax rate of only 10% for their first two years in the country. So, I called the Oslo tax office and asked about it. The tax person asked me for my Norwegian personal number (like an SSN), said that I'm indeed eligible for it, did some quick typing, and said that I'll be sent a new tax card in the mail. All I have to do then is give that card to my employer.

That's it. That's all it took. Less than 5 minutes. If I were a foreigner trying to do something like this in the States, the amount of red tape that I'd have to go through would be immense by comparison. I mean, even trying to prove that you're a state resident in order to get in-state tuition can be a nightmare. I'm still in shock.

So now, rather than having to give upwards of 40% of my check to the gov'ment each month, I have to give only 10%. It's tempting me to stay here for two whole years so that I can abuse the system.

Thursday, April 3, 2008

language and food

Norwegians eat 4 meals a day, traditionally. Only one of them is a hot meal, and that's dinner. Lunch is generlly the simplest meal, with many Norwegians bringing from home a "matpakke", whose literal translation is "food pack".

A matpakke consists of maybe three slices of bread (cut fresh from the loaf that morning) layered on top of each other, with perhaps cheese or meat on each slice. The set of slices are wrapped in something that's a mix between butcher's paper and wax paper. To eat it, you unwrap the paper, peel off a slice, spread some substance on it from a tube (see my earlier post about tubed substances), and enjoy. At lunchtime, maybe half the people in the cafeteria have a matpakke bundle.

Interestingly, the matpakkes are generally made by the wives before the husband goes to work.

On another note, I mentioned in an earlier post something about a tubed substance that had a picture of a baby on it. It turns out that substance is pate'. I'm not sure what's up with the baby, but it might be a brand icon.

Finally, the Norwegian language has the most logical naming scheme for members of a family that I've encountered.

father = "far"
mother = "mor"
father's father = "farfar"
father's mother = "farmor"
mother's father = "morfar"
mother's mother = "mormor"

brother = "bror"
sister = "sostre"
father's brother = "farebror"
father's sister = "forester"
mother's brother = "morebror"
mother's sister = "morster"

son = "sonn"
daughter = "datter"
son's son = "sonnesonn"
son's daughter / daughter's daughter / daughter's son = not sure, but it probably follows the same scheme...

Anyway, it's a very efficient scheme for indicating both a family member's place in the hierarchy, and which side of the family that member comes from.

cake

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

pictures

My pics from Belgium, Amsterdam, and Trondheim can be found here.

Tuesday, April 1, 2008

trivia

1) Out here, "Chicken Little" is called "Lille Kylling" (pronounced "lilla shilling"), which means "Little Chicken". It totally destroys the nuances of Chicken Little's name. I'm not sure why the Norwegians couldn't have put the noun before the adjective, because that makes just as much sense in Norwegian as it does in English.

2) I've seen a few Norwegians now put sliced hard-boiled eggs on a thick slice of bread for lunch. I haven't tried it yet, but it's not a bad idea.

3) What IS a bad idea is something I encountered in Trondheim. There, a giant Czech loaded up a piece of bread with a pile of tiny shrimp. I imagine that if you like shrimp, it probably tastes fine, but it looks unsightly. This same Czech put ketchup on his pasta.