CSN suxxx

Sometimes it seems as though Sweden is a country that provides everything. The tap water here is of good quality, and many people drink from the taps in the bathrooms on campus. University facilities management is obviously aware of the fact, and so in addition to the soap dispenser, paper towel dispenser and toilet paper dispenser, there is also a paper cup dispenser!

There is always an ecological and/or vegan and/or lactose/gluten/soy free version of evertyhing. Equality is staunchly defended - especially gender equality and equality for people with disabilities. Our neighbour in the apartment is in a wheelchair, and when she moved in the company that owns the apartment redid the entire kitchen so she could reach, at their own expense. There is an ethics council that monitors advertisements and lays charges against ones that involve bikini-clad women.

And yet, I am beginning to realise what it is like to be an immigrant. The word seems a weird fit - "immigrants" are people with different skin colours and different religions and different ways of preparing food. In that sense I am lucky, I don't suffer any social prejudice because I am of Western European descent and I pass very well as a "Swede" until I open my mouth (again, a strange idea given that there are many people born in Sweden that cannot shake the immigrant image due to the colour of their skin). But I do now realise how hard it is to start a life in a new country, just from a legal point of view. Aside from the hassles in getting a personal identity number, a bank account, a doctor, enrolling in university and getting my New Zealand degree accepted, I am finding it very difficult to make a living.

The language situation is serious. Almost everyone speaks English, and most people enjoy a chance to practice, so socially it isn't a problem. But I'm beginning to dread that little eye flicker that happens when someone in a shop or on the street says something to me in Swedish, and I have to explain that I don't understand, and you can see their face change as they adjust to English. And it is practically impossible to get a job without knowing Swedish, especially seeing as anyone that wants to employ someone who speaks English can take their pick of hundreds of Swedes who speak both. I went to a job fair the other day, and went up to every table asking "do you require people who speak English?" to no avail. But I will begin SFI (Swedish for Immigrants) classes on Monday, so hopefully I will learn quickly. The Swedes, like Maori, pronounce the letter "i" as we would pronounce the letter "e". So when I was looking to sign up for SFI classes I typed "sfe" into google, which kept trying to direct me to medical pages about "supercritical fluid extraction".

My other ray of hope for procuring money was the student allowance and loan from an organisation called CSN. I had been told by the migration board and by the Swedish Consulate that my residency permit gave me pretty much all the rights of a Swedish citizen, including the student allowance, but irritatingly CSN have decided that I can't get anything until I become a permanent resident (which will take two years). So much for getting paid to do my Masters (though at least I do still get to do it free). What really makes me angry is that they are willing to waive this rule if I have a baby with Axel, or if Axel was from another EU country. Basically, if I was cohabiting with someone from the EU, but not Sweden, then they will pay me to study here, but if I'm living with a Swede then no dice (unless I give birth). I hate them! I honestly don't know why they're so suspicious of people pretending to be in a relationship with a Swede just so they can move to Sweden for a better life - it would be better to move here with your Estonian husband!

But I suppose it is just because we are lucky in New Zealand too with good living standards. Sometimes I think about what I gave up to live here - scholarships (I have to pay back $6000 dollars because I left New Zealand), a job, a home, family, friends, my language, and a sense of belonging and entitlement: a citizenship. But I guess I have to look at what I gained too - first and foremost, I can live with the person I love, and it means everything to feel his back against mine in the night, and his smile over lunch. And I gain Europe, if I can ever afford to see it, and free education, and opportunities to expand my horizons and myself. But sometimes I just want to belong again.