Norway

By virtue of my “inflexible” age, I can only observe the “work situation” in Norway and draw my conclusions, having lived here already 7 years. In the first year I so rushed to work that it is even “scary” to recall! Two higher humanitarian diplomas: one Soviet, the other of 2004, “not bought in a passageway,” but “honestly attended and passed” state exams. “And I walk, all so” clever, through the provincial Norwegian town of Grimstad, with my CV (service record), straight into the most cultural place — the town library. And I start telling the “directress” of the library about myself, about how good and literate I am and I study-I-am-not-lazy and I know so much in this life… In general I “overwhelmed” the directress with my “intellect.” I look…. and the directress somehow suspiciously “shrivelled” and quietly uttered: “We will call you!” ...

A thought arose in my head that “old parents give birth to ‘old’ children.” In this family the child was late and only. Mama was already “well past 40.” And all her intellectual potential, not fully used in Norway (here there is nowhere to use it), she directed at her child, and “at the same time” at me. At the beginning of my narrative I wrote that I agreed to do a little English, having quite good experience of working with children in this direction. I advised buying on the internet an English textbook from a Russian publisher, i.e. with a translation of English words into Russian. Originally what was required was that the child should not forget Russian. ...

I must note the child I got was developed beyond his years and talented not only in the sciences, but also in everyday life. Order reigned in the house, nothing superfluous. He knew, for example, how to sort rubbish correctly, showed me where the rubbish bins stand. After eating he was allowed to eat only one sweet. And so he climbed onto the sideboard in the kitchen, opened a hanging cupboard and from the top shelf took a packet with various sweets. He took two sweets out of the packet and… stands thinking. I ask him: “How long are you going to stand up there like that?” And he: “I’m thinking. Which sweet I should eat today.” And I to him: “And you can’t eat two at once?” — “No, I’m not allowed. Mama allows only one sweet a day.” ...

The next day I decided to go to Norwegian courses, and by 12.30 get to the school and meet the child. In the break between lectures mama called (I was just in the buffet) and I had to “stand to attention!” and listen to her remarks about yesterday. It turned out that I had acted wrongly, treating the child to a piece of homemade cake that I had baked myself. She said that it harms his health. ...

My first working day passed satisfactorily. From 12.30 to 17 o’clock. Since the child needed fresh air, we went out with him on skis at 16 o’clock, dragged ourselves to the hill. I stood at the bottom and gave the command “down!” in Russian. At that time there were many Norwegian children on the hill, and the hill too was Norwegian, not small, steep, so I stood at the bottom to “catch” “my” child. After several of my traditionally Russian commands “Come on!”, I suddenly noticed that the Norwegian children had stopped skiing and were staring at me with curiosity. ...

The Norwegian primary school is very different from the one we were used to, being in the Soviet Union, and then in the CIS. The traditions of the Soviet school were preserved for a long time. I will not go into details now, but I will say about myself that I would not have been able to work with Norwegian children. The conditions in school are good, no violence against the child — that is the main rule. ...

Governesses, tutoring, babysitting — not typical phenomena for Norway. But I had the chance to be a governess about 5 years ago. I was still studying on Norwegian courses then. I went to town by bus from my village. Once a classmate told me that a Russian woman who works all day in a firm needed a Russian-speaking governess for her 6-year-old boy. He goes to the first class, was born in Norway, speaks Russian, but she worries that he may forget Russian, and in order that this should not happen he needs a Russian-speaking governess. I just happened to be the one who is “a tailor, and a reaper, and a player on the pipe.” ...

I think Norwegians do not put the question that way. It is I, recalling the Russian classics, who wrote such a heading. Only yesterday I wrote about the beginning of my life in Norway and about the growing stepdaughters. And…. already they are grown up! Seven years have passed! The other day I received them in my little apartment. We all sat together on the veranda at the table, and I, at last, began to understand Norwegian, and they were talkative and “relaxed,” possibly for the first time. ...

A hard morning with a heavy head from the heat. The Norwegian husband reports. Today there was a “truppenatt”… I decided to ask again. Do I hear well? Yes, “truppenatt.” The second time it sounded somehow unaccustomed. The word natt — night. Well that I know. But this “truppa”… what is that? I ask again in English: “Body?” — “Nei!” answered the Norwegian husband and once more repeated “truppenatt”! Well then, I shall have to take up my own investigation of the word! ...

31 May. From this heat thoughts jump like fleas. You don’t know where to begin. Here one can tell about one’s not very house-cat. If someone comes to us as a guest, the cat tries to leave the house. She also accompanies me when I go out for a walk to the sea. But when I walk along the boat pier, she remains sitting on the shore (I think she is worried). As soon as I step onto the shore, she a couple of times “says” meow and we go back to the house together. ...