Employment Dane-tervention

I am convinced that a new requirement of foreigners applying for a working holiday visa in Denmark should be introduced, and that is to have a thick skin.

Seriously, when you drop off your passport photos, proof of funds and pay the necessary fees, the Danish consular official should just criticize you from head to toe- because trust me, you're going to need a thick skin when it comes to being a non Danish speaking foreigner seeking employment in Copenhagen. 


I am fairly certain the 37 rejection 'we are only considering fluent Danish speaking applicants' emails in my inbox (delete delete delete delete) support this theory. 

If I delete it, I basically never applied and got shafted, right?

As someone who has worked since the age of 13 (yes, when it was illegal) and at many times in my life worked two or even three jobs and gained employment very easily, six weeks of job hunting was fairly brutal. I'm talking, different person moody irrational I'm going to leave this country motherf*&6ka edgy crazy bitch to my wonderful boyfriend, brutal. Oh yeah, the relaxed Aussie Girl disappears when pressure is applied. 

Just for the reader's information- my visa was actually delayed and didn't come until after my arrival in Denmark due to the huge number of Australians applying for the working holiday visa. This is the time when you begin to ask yourself "Where the **** are all these people even working?!" 

You suddenly recall that solicitor you used to live with that job hunted for four months who you just 'ooh'ed and ahh'ed' to and bought a few drinks for occasionally. Suddenly you can start to relate! This is a time when you start to remember all those people who gasped when you told them you were moving overseas for a man (Whhhaaaat? Girl, you're leaving your awesome job? What if you never get something else as good at your age!) 

It's when you start to consider jobs you would never have considered before- yeah sure, I can be an Au Pair for an Iranian family wanting an eighteen year old tri-lingual native English  speaker. I can work on a pig farm outside of Copenhagen and commute. I can be a hotel maid when I have no real experience. I can work one day a week for a Danish charity. I can work in finance here with purely my attitude and what little experience i possess. I can waitress in the airport lounge of a scandinavian airline. It's when you start to ask friends you aren't necessarily that close to yet to talk to their bosses and get you in! It's when you're about to paper a rich neighbourhood with flyers saying you will clean their apartments. I'm here temporarily, there's no shame in doing anything! 

It's when you begin to reek of desperation. 

And, just when you think life is hopeless, you've spent A LOT of money, you snap at your boyfriend and argue that there's no possible way you can stay outside of another month- three employers actually realise "hey this girl waitressed for over 5 years, she knows a bit of Danish, we can take her" and you get three job offers in the space of two days. 


If I believed in God, I would be building all his people on Earth a high five machine right now. 


After choosing a job at an Irish Bar/Restaurant that I REALLY love working at, and watching 10 people hand in their CV's on your second shift in the space of six hours- you start to realize that a lot of those other guys on your type of visa are probably in the same boat. 


The scary thing is that on a working holiday visa, you can only work for a maximum of six months, and for three months at any given job- so it's very likely this entire cycle could begin all over again in three months time. OR I become super disciplined, regain some savings and work for three months then bum all over western Europe, the UK and Scandinavia. 


I want to end with some more funny Danish literal translations I have discovered (I love learning this language)! - Observe



The hair below a man's navel (snail trail) - dick tie
Child labour - Children work
Centipede - Thousand legs
Puppy - dog puppy


And lastly- the way I discovered a centipede was called 'thousand legs'-


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HmWADzf5NGs

I hope you enjoyed my pictures, I feel they helped to illustrute my frustration. Until next time-


Loz


PS To my family readers, post 'almost-nervous-breakdown' I am still extremely happy and blissful all the way up in this wonderful city/country - L

Life on Mars

I have always considered myself a fairly coordinated person. I played a lot of sport growing up - so connecting golf club to golf ball implies that, doesn't it?

My coordination has obviously never met typical Danish design. That which my title suggests is exactly what I feel here at times - life on another planet!

Apparently my lifestyle of growing up in Australia masked the obvious symptoms of 'klutziness'. Australia - that huge land of sweeping plains, full of vast open spaces and large houses, disguised that I am actually the Bella Swan of Danish klutziness. For those of you who will forgive the Twilight reference, Bella Swan is a fictional character who is completely plagued by mortifying awkwardness and klutziness until it dissolves by association with a somewhat sparkling vampire. Unfortunately my 'sparkling vampire' lives in the form of a Danish boyfriend who, after the thousandth stumble on that same kitchen cabinet, can not cure my klutziness and can only exclaim 'Aww baby. Do you totally hate our place?'

Let me put this simply. A typical Danish apartment is compact. Very compact. Denmark has a style of living which I adore but am still adjusting to as an individual- the apartment style family living with the huge park culture. Although I in no way am complaining about the fantastic place I share with my beloved (which I love!), I would actually be showering over my toilet if not for renovations on the place. The kitchen resembles something Gordon Ramsay may froth at the mouth over, or as I like to think - the green mile of cat proportions (narrow corridor with fridge/cupboards on one side, bench space/stove on the other). Needless to say if I gain any weight in Denmark I will no longer be able to enter my bathroom, kitchen or exit to our courtyard via our spiral staircase.

As I am trying to shorten these posts I would like to conclude these latest observations with an update about my ongoing effort to master the Danish language. I find the following realization extremely funny with regards to my quest. Please see below the following statement from 'The Xenophobe's Guide to the Danes'-

“Danish is not a beautiful language. But it’s economical. Why invent a new word when two old ones are perfectly adequate?"

In the Danish language, words are ALWAYS recycled when possibile.

'Hej' means hello, ‘hej hej’ means goodbye, and ‘gift’ means married or poison (how ironic!).

On that note, I would like to conclude with the following translations which I find to be humourously 'economical'-

vacuum cleaner = dust sucker
cremation= body burning
aeroplane= flying machine
nipple= breast wart
cervix= life mother
fountain= jumping water
fry= fire
cloud= sky
polar bear= ice bear

A glove is directly translated into ‘a foot in boots’.

I'll continue with the learning, I am sure that there are hundreds more out there!

Until next time-

Loz