The hassle dazzle of getting into a community hospital

So I was sick, very sick. I kind of thought I was going to boil up alive. I had taken a day off work, but it was not enough. In Portugal, you have the right to be three days at home when sick. I am a very conscious employee, so I decided to go get help. I tumbled down the stairs from our apartment to my car where I sat deep down on the driver´s seat, merely seeing over the steering wheel. Alright, I am short(ish), anyhow I was buried in the seat.

Waze directed me to CUF Cascais. All went fairly well at the hospital, got to see a Doctor fast and had five (5!!) days of sick leave and a long list of medications. When I got home, I spoke with a fellow colleague on the phone telling her about my hospital visit. Then she remembered to inform me that, it is not allowed to get sick leave from a private hospital. Whaaaaaaaat?

After about 10 calls here and there, including my mother (who is in Finland and cannot help me by any means) I went to the community hospital near my house. Sweating and heart pounding I entered a box-like building (actually it was a box, a building container to be precise). I went to the counter where I found a bored (in life) lady. I asked if it was possible to see a physician. She looked at me up and down, and snorked “take a number”. I was bewildered, there was no one else in line. I turned around, stretched my arm to a ticket machine and took a number, 75. Seeventy-fivEEEE the lady shouted. I looked at her even more confused and said, “That would be me”. She did not look happy at all.  She asked for my healthcare number, which of course I did not have since I never had needed one before. She said, “We cannot help you”, and gave me a number to call. End of story. I was so angry, I had tears running down my cheeks going home. What am I going to do? I opted in the last resource possible and drove to a bigger community hospital nearby.

When I reached the stairs of the entrance I fell. Look at poor me, going to die soon, a 37 degree fever. The lady at the counter saw me and my red cheeks and said that you can only make a healthcare number between 14-15h. Then she asked me to sit down, and she drew out papers and started to fill them out for me. Bless good people. The next day I went in for a physician, she gave me two days of rest, despite the five days given by a private physician. I learned that community hospitals only give a maximum of three days at once and then you have to drag yourself to the hospital again.

Lesson learned, sort out all the relevant papers/identification codes before you really need them!

How to Sauna – in Portugal

As Portugal is in carnival mood, I decided to seize the day and go to the gym. After a complete and well done workout I headed to the sauna.

As we Finns like to think – the sauna is a place where you sweat out the stress and anxiety of life. All the toxins of your body drip to the floor in the shape of small pearls. You experience a profound relaxation and leave with a peaceful mind.

But not in Portugal...

I have commented about this before, you can find my former observations in the blogpost GymtasticPortugal. 

How to sauna Portuguese style;

1.     The sauna is part of your workout. Abs in the sauna is a must. You go in, lie down on the highest bench and start to do crunches. The heat helps you burn more calories and you get fit faster. Anyone remembers sauna belt? Same idea. You sweat – a lot – and look slimmer until you drink a glass of water and wadabam. It’s back. Not common knowledge here…

2.     Sauna = tumble dryer. Of course you need to dry up your sweaty clothes after the workout. So why not put the sweaty underpants on the sauna bricks? They dry up faster. The smell is a minus, but who would care? Btw, the stove is a Harvia and I would just have loved to throw water on the stones…

3.     If you do not have flip-flops, use shoes. So somebody decided to wear tennis shoes to the sauna… the same genius wore also socks. The sensation of slimy toes is probably superb.

4.     After working out, it’s nice to have a post workout meal – in the sauna.

5.     If you do not have swimming pants or towel, go naked. Not disturbing at all. We Finns like to be nude, but in Portugal? Nope. I did not want to see what I witnessed.

6.     Push-ups. Someone once told me that the best workout is when you feel your head is going to explode, so why not do it in the sauna and occupy sitting space of other people. The warmer, the better, aim for the highest bench to have the optimal heat.

7.     If you are sick, have a cold or fever the sauna is the cure. (NOT?!?! You crazy people).  

8.     Throw a bucket full of water on the stones and sit on the floor. Makes sense. Not to me since I was sitting on the highest bench.

Picture from the internet... can't wait for Summer, sauna and sausage at the cabin. Relaxation. Until then, deal with crazy rituals in Portugal...

A traveling Heidi and crazy taxi drivers

Work has taken me several times to Germany and once to UK in the past weeks. There is one thing in common with all working trips (not only Bircher muesli and my incredible capability of finding it everywhere).

I have met some cray-ass-bem-louco taxi drivers. They seem to be more interested in your life than the regular hairdresser lady who seems to know everything about everyone on TV. Traveling by taxi is like a third degree interrogation or other weirdness.

I left on a Sunday afternoon to Germany to be in a meeting Monday morning. The Portuguese taxi driver is super talkative. “I hope you do not mind but, on the way to the airport I need to drop off things to my niece. Did I tell you my nieces are the cutest? So good looking?” Me thinking: Merlin´s beard, this one is crazy. So we went to drop off things somewhere to his super good looking niece, who btw, if you didn´t get it yet has got a twin. This additional new route took 20 min, and during that time I heard at least 10 times about his good looking niece(s) (the twins). I was also harassed to tell my nationality, rent price, house condition, workplace, studies etc… Not much lying to be done since he picked me up in front of my house.

In Germany I had an a**hole of a taxi driver. Because I was young and traveling by taxi to a nice hotel means that I MUST HAVE a lot of money. So the interrogation was about my monetary situation. Which is not good btw, student + loans + working in Portugal. The driver wanted me to pay him 20e of tip!?!?! After the whole rude questioning before. No way. Fight fight fight. FYI I am not paying 20e tip to a butt hole who assumes I am rich for travelling alone on a Sunday by cab for work. The taxi driver seemed to be mad at me for some reason. I did not know I had a thick wallet and was related to the King of Sweden… good to know when the bills arrive.

In the UK I was met by a cab driver who started asking questions one nanosecond after I got in the cab. I was picked up at an office building in the middle of industrial city suburbs – aka nowhere. “So? Were you on an interview?” Me: ? “Did it go well? It looks like it because your interviewer is waving to you outside?” Me: ????? I didn´t even have time to answer. After the questioning-vomit-attack ended, I replied horrified. “I am here for work.” The driver: “OOOOOOH. So you are not from the UK, where are you coming from?” Me: “Portugal” …and that’s how the fun started. I do not look Portuguese, I do not sound like one… How come I come from there, where do I work, live, eat, sleep, first time in the UK?, future plans?, weddings?? When I rushed out from this horrible questioning session the driver sticks his head out of the cab window to scream from the bottom of his lungs. 18 POUND TO THE AIRPORT TODAY, CALL MEEEEEEEEE. Over my dead body.

Arriving back to Lisbon, I got to know some Chinese people who are married and own a kebab place. Yes. I was involved again in a weird situation when the taxi driver decided to meet up with old friends when I was on board.

Next time I will take an Uber. Does not matter how illegal it is. They simply ask if the music is ok and if I want to have WIFI and stay the hell quiet. My Finnish personality cannot take more. Silence and space please.

Pick your apartment wisely

This is important folks!

When you move to Portugal it is good to have some standard knowledge of the apartment you are going to live in. ...it applies also for Spain... and probably any country :D 

Jumping into a time machine, taking us almost two years back, when we moved to Lisbon with Swag N or Nik. 

It was the end of Summer (in Finland), late August, when Nik left ahead to find an apartment for our one year stay in Lisbon. He went to solve the apartment situation while I was packing our old apartment in Finland. Dude, it should have been the other way around. A 160 cm tall girl dragging all furniture and packing things together is not a good combo. I learned my lesson. 

The apartment situation was not too good since many students (about 10 000) move into Lisbon each year. The apartment range was small, extremely small and expensive. All apartments seemed to have a problem which we could not overcome. In the end we found a relatively good flat in Bairro Alto. It was in the budget range we set for ourselves, 800e. (It is expensive in Portugal). We even made the contract with a housing agency to have a legal back up, which later on did not work at all. Since the agency did not care. 

We moved in. 

One month later the rains started. I was casually at home doing my homework when suddenly it was raining inside the apartment. Crap. I put buckets (and basically anything I found from the kitchen) beneath the worst dripping places. I called the landlord and told him about the raining inside. 

Two days later the landlord shows up to see a completely soaked roof. Determining on his face it was very bad. But then he casually said "It will dry in the Summer, lets find the hole and cover it." OK?? Two weeks later the roof was re-painted (in a nice yellow tone that showed the moist coming through). The painter man also broke our vacuum cleaner (small thing), which we never said nothing about because there were worse issues. Like the roof. 

Next Spring it leaked again. But then we had had enough, since we also had mold in the apartment caused by water between the walls.. it was also touching the electricity wires.. but that was overseen by the landlord... Nik (Swag N) also had aggressive attacks of allergy, eyes watery and swollen 24/7, cough, asthma... 

In November I spoke sufficiently Portuguese to understand what our bills said. I figured that the landlord was asking us to pay water every month, although water is paid every two months. So when I pointed this thing out, he turned all bills to his home and started sending images of the bills instead. Which is illegal, but who cares. 

In January we had a whole year estimate payment of 250 euro of electricity we had not consumed but had to pay anyways. We were also getting tight on money at this point. 

In April we found a new apartment and decided to move since our contract with the old apartment was about to end. We cleaned up entirely the moldy smelly household, left it very pretty. 

In June when we were in Finland the landlord, who did not want to come visit the apartment for a last inspection (for a 10000 different reasons) said that we have left the apartment in an extremely bad shape and the vacuum cleaner was broken. Therefore, he did not want to pay us the deposit. Excellent. 

Then I returned to Lisbon in July to have an argument with this landlord (and give back the keys which I refused to give until he paid us back). I told about Nik's asthma, showed the mold, explained the vacuum cleaner and said that we cleaned the whole apartment. Then the landlord started accusing us of not paying bills?? What?? So I had to collect each and every single payment we made to show him that nothing was missing. Which was not. 

Conclusion. After a massive fight we had 550e back of our 800 euro deposit, because the vacuum cleaner (still working) was broken. 

I took the money and ran.

A picture from the street we lived in. The houses are built over 200 years ago. 

Different personalities in different cultures

It is actually true. I was not sure whether to define it as, language-personality or culture-personality change. Language is part of culture and therefore I thought it was proper to define it as culture personality.

I noticed this personality change when I was living in Spain. First I thought it was the Alicante people and sun which had the impression on me, but moving to Lisbon and integrating myself to the culture proved my speculations right. I have several personalities (I am not schizophrenic), my personality changes with the culture.

The best part of all. I am Finnish-Swedish but do not feel comfortable with my Finnish-Swedish personality. I have always avoided being Finnish-Swedish. I always tell everybody what I am (now I sound like an animal..), but having to be among others alike and being in my respective personality feels awkward, like clothes that do not fit. However, being Finnish has always been the thing. I feel super comfortable in my personality. My way of being, speaking and acting suits my inner personality like a glove. I have other friends and also my sister, who are very much alike in this matter. Proud of their mother tongue and heritage, but not fitting into their Finnish-Swedish clothes.

American me 19 years old xD

My English personality was established way back when I was a teen. I had an Amercian boyfriend who thought me to speak English - in his way and manners. I learned how to be American, I imitated the way of talking, behavior and the girls in general. All did not suit me, but I created a personality. And there I was, my third personality established and I really liked it. Of course growing older and more mature made my personality less black and white, and Lil Wayne is not the God anymore.

Enjoying a morning hike at the beach in Spain

Moving to Spain thought the Spanish me to love life and myself. Having a wine here and there did not make a difference to my overly healthy lifestyle. Speaking in an easy sloppy manner, joder and all those other colorful expressions in Spanish I do not want to reveal here. The nicest thing is to escape to Spain to fulfill the role and personalty I have there. The more laid back me. It is like having a vacation from your other self as well, not only the 'normal life'.

Finally, who am I in Portuguese? In the beginning it seemed like I was going to be the Grumpy Cat of all times. I had a sarcastic comeback to everything and
nothing seemed to suit. It might have been also the pain of growing into a new personality. The last months have showed me that I might have almost grown into my new personality. Having moments to laugh from the bottom of your stomach, a real joy and having the possibility to understand and joke around with people in Portuguese. I think I am on the brink of establishing the Portuguese me and it seems to suit me just fine.

Desejo-lhe um bom fim de semana! :)

-Heidi

The weather forecast in Lisbon: Ice Age

When you have nothing to say but there is the risk of an awkward silence, we usually speak about the weather. It is THE topic. No matter where you are.

It is sunny, it is cold, it looks like it´s going to rain, uff the cold. As I have had a radio silence the past weeks, I will take up the challenge of “the weather”. But I have a good reason.

In Finland it never occurred to me that I could freeze to death. In Portugal my life is a constant struggle not to turn into a deep frozen fish stick. In the North, the cold gives you a slap in the face. Wearing enough clothes will help you. Meanwhile in Portugal; stockings, jeans, socks, stocking long sleeve shirt, jumper, jacket, hat and gloves. I will survive! And the chill is on your bones. It´s like freezing from inside out, not outside in. The digital pharmacy sign tells you it´s +9! LIES

Yesterday, happily walking home at night dressed as a look-a-like Michelin man it started raining. FOGO (crap or something similar). There I was, soaking wet.

It does not make my dramatic life brighter at all, not having proper isolation or heating system at home. Going to bed is quite ok, it is cold but the battery and fleece pajama warms you up. However, if your blanket falls down and reveals some body part at night, you instantly wake up and cover yourself before you need an amputation. In the morning you prepare to run from the bedroom to the bathroom. Run? It´s so cold you might freeze on the way. Btw, the bathroom seat is no treat either. You butt might deep freeze on the rim.

The cherry topping: People laugh at my fight against the cold. Would you believe it? They mock me for being “over sensitive”. If you read in Iltalehti about a Finn who was found frozen in Lisbon, it was me.

 

 

A São Martinho get together

Last Friday we celebrated São Martinho at work. In general, the Portuguese are very settle celebrators. At least in Lisbon. I have heard that in other parts of Portugal, especially the North, the people go all festive on certain days. But Lisbon, tsirp tsirp (it's a cricket).

When I lived in Spain some years ago, I could not wrap my mind around how many church parties there could be. Honestly, every week there was a parade in some part of the city where people were dressed as in the 1800th Century dragging a huge cross around. And then eventually becoming completely and utterly wasted. First church, then drink.

The Lisbon experience has been different. On Halloween (Dia das Bruxas) people were dragged into the party. The festivity was showed into their partyless lives. But São Martinho is another story.

São Martinho is celebrated 11.11. There is a legend to tell the story, involving a beggar a cloak and good weather. The rest I already forgot... and to be honest, when I asked around nobody knew. People are just interested in castanhas, Jeropiga e Agua-pé. That is; chestnut, alcoholic beverage and other alcoholic beverage. Its the theme of the day. Eat roasted chestnuts and alcohol for the mix of flavors.
To be honest it has got something to do with trying out 'new wine' and summer of São Martinho, which means a come back summer for a couple of days. Which is true, the sun is shining from a clear blue sky currently.

Back to the Friday party. We organized a chestnut-man to come roast chestnuts outside of the office building. The chestnuts were wrapped in company branded paper and the service was paid by the company. It was a nice event. Anybody wanting to have roasted chestnuts could come get some. Nice marketing initiative, I must say...

If you come to Lisbon, there's roasted chestnuts in every corner of the city until March when the strawberry season starts. (Roughly estimated.) Try them, so goooood and full of nutrients.

Have a lovely Sunday ya'll.

How living abroad made me patriotic

My personal pride of being Finnish (and recognizing other Finns abroad with a “Moi”) has increased from floor level through the roof. It´s hilarious. When we lived in Finland we couldn´t wait to move abroad. Get away from this tiny country, which is not “in” or even considered to be on the world map.

So, (ha-ha) we moved to Portugal. An even tinier country (geographically), which is as unknown as Finland. Portugal is in the shadow of Spain (but working hard to place itself on the mental world map of people) and good old Finland is kind of shadowed by Scandinavia and Russia. Is Finland even part of Scandinavia? I would say yes. But technically it´s not. And ok, Portugal is known as a football country, but theres so much more into it.

So what has happened? Well basically being a Finn in Portugal makes you stand out, a lot. At least if you get incorporated in groups of people who are only Portuguese. Taking an example, every official company event or business trip, I do get recognized for not being Portuguese. I stand out as a parrot among pigeons. All eyes on me. Standing out makes me different, and I like to feed the fact with my personal pride of the country I am from.

But how do you mean patriotic? I have been asked “tell me about Finland, what is your home like”. I usually skip the part of gray, cold, depressing, expensive, no jobs … it´s kind of rude and comparable to shooting yourself in the leg. Why would I dig a hole? So I tell them. It’s the country of a thousand lakes. The summer is warm and the people are nice. The nature is close, its green and you can walk around in it. The forest is a place where you can find peace and breathe fresh air. During winter the snow hangs on tree branches. White reflects light illuminating the air. The air you breathe is cold in the lungs like a menthol gum, your cheeks and nose turn red... Then I get homesick.

Moreover, I was asked to bring “salminakki” to work for Halloween because it´s black. And what was the name of that good Finnish chocolate fizer (fazer)? And you have that really good food, carne de reno (poronpaisti). They know, I am so proud.

I also think the Finnish ruisleipa is the best thing on earth. And Finnish candy is not even comparable to other countries. I always have a stash of remix at home.

Thank God I am going home for Christmas for reality therapy. Then I will happily return to my second home, Lisbon.

 

 

Terveisin,
Heidi

What is your favorite word?

It sounds nerdy, but being a polyglot has thought me that there are some very nice words out there.

Some people like accents, others like words and others like the way someone talks. The way we express our selves verbally is actually pretty interesting. 

I have never been the accent person, I am not fond of accents that sound foreign to my ear. I only think Russian is not pretty and German sounds horrible. However, when you start to learn the language and the meaning of it, a world opens up. Honestly. German eww.. now when I have been exposed to German by Germans on a constant basis, I actually think they have some nice words. The accent is still horrible. 

But what am I to say that some language sounds horrible? People laugh at me when I speak Finnish. Apparently the Finns sound like the Minions from Despicable Me. That is horrible news for the Finns who are very masculine, strong and proud. Sisu perkele. We sound like peeping idiots. Touché. 

I have one favorite word in several languages. Its actually an animal. Libélula (Spanish), Libelinha (Portuguese) Trollslända (Swedish), Dragonfly (English) and Sudenkorento (Finnish). In Finnish its actually not so attractive, though when thinking of it I don't know too many beautiful Finnish words. In Latin its known as Libellula. All so cute. I love the way the word plays in the mouth when it is spoken.


I might sound Cockcoo crazy. Thats what Sunday does to you.



What is your favorite word? 

Ericeira state of mind

We escaped Lisbon this weekend. Its funny how we have been in Portugal for almost 1,5 years and we have literally been nowhere... There's no time, no resources, too expensive, too lazy etcetera. Its easy to come up with reasons.

However, this particular weekend some Finnish friends were at Ericeira. And we took a crazy leap of faith. Omg the risks associated with a change in normal routine.. going to Ericeira... A true jump in the unknown. Not. Just a bunch of reasons. 


We travelled by bus (and through every single village on the way sighh) to Ericeira. It took us two hours, and the roads were small. I tried to enjoy the scenery, but had this nice cold sweat feeling and felt the blood escape my face.. I haven't been car sick since I was a child. Nevertheless, the air conditioning was state of art. Can you sense the sarcasm? It was raining outside, and the air inside the bus was extremely humid... and the windows were so dim it was impossible to see outside. I felt like a dying fly, or at least could relate to one.




I loved my girlfriend duty this weekend. Be supportive. The guys went surfing, although the weather was not optimal. According to our two pro surfers. (Who had surfed as many times as you can count with two hands) As girlfriends, we had to be close by, so we took chairs to the beach front and sat in the sun. Occasionally you would have to wave from the chair or do a thumbs-up to show that you were watching. Otherwise it was great time spent gossiping and speaking about life and realities. Optimal. Something I have been missing. On surfing round two (guys new attempt to go in the water) we moved up to the beach restaurant. The sun was better there. Wine time.

At night there was laughter, telling of crazy stories and eating good food. And the wine. Wine time.

Ericeira is a good place for surfers, and supportive girlfriends (in case they don't surf). It is small, cozy, friendly, there's nature, good food.. I wish to return. The relaxation was maximum. The feeling of sitting and just being there, having fresh air. It is irreplaceable. Namaste.

Sometimes you can have a full week of holiday in less than 24 hours. Enjoy the Sunday folks!

To be a young employee

A pineapple, literally what I feel like atm. I said I will not say anything about work. I lied. I am still in the mode of “smile and wave”, but inside I feel like a palhaço (clown). I am not going to lash out, but just tell you how it is hard to be dancing on roses for anyone who is considered “young” in Portugal.

After many years of taking in all kinds of comments and doings of co-employees, I consider it sufficient. I have reached a limit. And I, on the other hand will never treat anyone badly because they are younger or unexperienced. The thing is, we learn from each other. At work we are in the same boat. And you are only sinking like the Titanic if you treat people badly.

I have worked in Spain, Finland and Portugal, thus I feel entitled to open my mouth.

A light overview of what it is to be like to work in Portugal for a young adult. People who are older (as of age) than you think it is obvious that they are smarter, better and more important. This is a normal assumption, young adults entering work life or having worked only for a handful of years think it is the right of older employees to treat them as if they were somehow non-professional, unexperienced and not able to form a good opinion. Not in my case, Thank God, but for other sisters and brothers in business.

I have a friend working as a consultant, she´s about thirty years old. And guess what, her everyday struggle is to make people believe in her as a professional. She is too young.

I have been told by others that unfortunately in Portugal age is an important thing. And if there is someone younger who wishes to climb up the ladder he/she will be torn down by older employees. But that is just insane!? Will the older employee lose something because another colleague is good at what he/she does?

Also, it is noted that during your first five years of employment you are at work from morning till someone throws you out. It is because you need to be seen as a hard worker. So the amount of hours an employee spends at work is actually considered a measure for success. People say that even though they would not have ANYTHING to do, they sit in front of their computers tapping air like they had something to do? Again, that is insane!? Should we change mentality to; do your work the best you can and go home. A good way to avoid burnout and de-socialization btw.

As of myself, my work fulfills me for the time being. However, in my everyday life I face the reality of a young employee. Sometimes the bad behavior gets to me, sometimes I imagine the people actually missing the point when they are trying to make themselves important. Their loss.

On the brightside, I have the most wonderful colleagues who are super exited about all new and fresh. And they have adopted me. I like them so much I might as well go hug them right now.

 

 

 

 

 

Gymtastic Portugal

Sit tight folks, this is funny... for the Finns.

Ok, so it sounds like this is going to revolutionize your world. It's not. Portuguese people go to the gym, like the Finns.

During my last visit to Finland I noticed the "fit" culture. People of all ages are in very good shape. I suppose it is for "the summer". In this case, IF the sun comes out during the two Summer months Finland has got. You can never be too prepared!
Meanwhile in Portugal, where the sun has been intensive for the past four months and you practically live on the beach, people have floppy bellies and eat potato chips, cookies and other such things for lunch. A swear word for the Fit-Finland culture. If you eat a potato chip and not a goji berry. YOU TAKE IT TO THE GRAVE.

So back to the gym. Working out is fun, the people around you are fun, the place is fun. But mind me the crazy Brazilian Personal Trainer who sometimes persuades me to train with him, which after I cannot feel my legs, arms..face.. toes..fingers. Once he carried me away from training area because my legs did not respond. This is good, in his opinion... myself have severe pain and the usual, toilet seat sitting-standing issue.

To the shower. Flip-flops is a must. In Finland I have not experienced the mandatory flip-flop issue. In Portugal, you are considered a very filthy person if your bare feet touch the floor. Not even the two second rule applies. So you are very contagious if you touch the floor. Like the hot lava game when we were kids, the floor burns!
However, contrary to good old Finland, it is completely normal to depilate every single hair on your body in the shower. And leave it there. To clog the drainer. Now I see why we need flip-flops...

To the sauna. It's a common workout and stretching area. When the Finn is sitting post-workout in the sauna breathing the hot air in and sweating out the stress of the day, the Portuguese is doing push-ups and abdominals beside you..or yoga.. or drying his sweaty workout clothes. It is also common to throw a liter of water on the stones, and then sit on the lowest bench or on the floor, and casually eat a post-workout meal. Or escape the sauna altogether and leave the Finn inside. SISU.

Otherwise, I love my gym and I am willing to recommend it to anyone visiting Lisbon looking for a good workout. I can even hand you over to the Brazilian Personal Trainer.. he will make you cry for mommy.

Beijinhos!


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