The Magical Number

Frustration is a tricky thing to deal with, isn't it?

Well if you ever plan on moving to Sweden, you'll be well acquainted with that concept - lots and lots of it. Today was a difficult day (I know, my blog posts haven't exactly been bubbly so far...), but I had actually been doing so much better lately. I've been taking it easier and trying to enjoy life as much as I can. I haven't been fighting my situation at all, the only thing I've been battling with these last few days is just my anxiety really (leftovers of my struggled February, don't worry!). Before I start my angsty rant, I would like to say that I really like Sweden and I think it's a great country. I believe it has several great qualities and that I will be able to make a comfortable living here, once things start going my way. That being said, I wanted to write this because lately I have been seeing a lot of posts related to the idea that Sweden might be the perfect country or that here they have achieved the concept of "utopia". And frankly, as good as it might be, it's also very far from it. At first sight, it might seem like they've mastered gender equality, free education and healthcare, while at the same time ensuring amazingly high salaries and great quality of life. Don't get me wrong, a lot of that is correct. But they're also flawed, like any other country on earth. So today, I'll try to shed some light on the nightmare that is eating away at this beautiful place: slow-moving bureaucracy. And hopefully, give you some insider perspective (of an outsider trying to make it in) which is probably more realistic than some of the nonsense you might find online. 

Now if you don't mind humoring me for a moment, let's go back to the personnummer business I mentioned in my second post. I handed in the documents that were required and I sent them in on the 30th of January. On the 14th of February I received a letter saying that I needed to provide them with a few additional things. [Enter insanity warning]: one of the documents they were asking for, I had already handed in. The other one? We had asked specifically about whether it was necessary or not to get a form called S1. The answer? A hard, solid "no" from the lady in town who had accepted my papers. I had to take a few deep breaths - and then some more. It had taken them two weeks just to send me a letter asking for what I had already given them and for something they said I didn't need. It felt like the government was testing me, but I went with it. 

To make matters harder for me (because why not?), my case was assigned to someone who sadly wasn't in town, but rather in a city down south (therefore the dreaded letter). After its arrival, I made a phone call to the Social Security services in Portugal and found out that I had to send a registered letter to them, asking for the S1 form to be sent. As you can imagine, that process took a while: I sent a letter to a friend in Lisbon, who then received it, changed the envelope and in turn sent it again to the authority's address. What I should add here is that on the letter that I received from Skatteverket (the entity that handles the personnummer applications) it said I had until the 27th of February to hand everything in. Which gave me around two weeks to send a form that was to come all the way from Portugal (after an uphill battle with their bureaucracy). It seemed like a daunting quest, because it was completely impossible. So then began the adventure of calling Hanna (person of contact) and trying to reach her. On the first day I called, the machine answered saying she was out of the office and that I should try an hour later. When I did so, the machine picked up again, only to say she was gone for the day and I had to call tomorrow...Fumes coming out of my ears by then, the next day I even set an alarm to the established hour, just so I wouldn't miss her. But it turns out I was out of luck again - it would take me three more attempts to be able to get her on the phone. When I finally did, she claimed she was having "computer problems" (please forgive my lack of faith, but everything starts sounding shady as fuck when the person is NEVER in the office working). I didn't want to risk it, so I asked if I could explain my situation anyway. She reluctantly said yes and heard me out, so we agreed to postpone the date until the 15th of March. 

On the 27th of February my letter finally reached the social security office. And then...nothing happened. I waited for a week, but since I didn't hear anything back, I called again and e-mailed the people handling my case, trying to get information about the status of my request. Today, on the 13th of March, I forfeited: it was time to call Hanna and ask her for more time. As I did so, she told me that because I didn't know when my form was going to arrive, I couldn't keep postponing my application. The solution? Well if you're aware of some of my worst fears, you might've guessed it: starting all over again once I had the form with me (which meant at least eight more weeks of painful waiting). I felt completely defeated after hearing that. This is not how I had envisioned things were going to happen. Granted, I had been warned about administrative services in Sweden, but I hadn't wanted to believe it could be this hellish, not until I was in a cage being forced to fight it. It was like some twisted inside joke - you'll only comprehend how ugly the truth is when it's already too late to get out. 

Ironically enough, later today I finally got an e-mail reply to my request for the S1. They told me that I wasn't eligible to receive it (makes sense, right?), so instead they sent another form that should kind of help (but not really). You see, this replacement wasn't on the list of accepted forms. Despair followed this information... What could I possibly do to get assigned a personnummer? How could it be this difficult?! How were people not being warned about this treacherous road? Enter my enlightened (albeit, slightly biased) post about my swedish struggles. Tomorrow we're going to the Skatteverket office, to try and deliver all the necessary documents (and the stupid not-S1 form). I can't explain how nervous I am about tomorrow's outcome; if they don't accept it, I don't know what to do, since I'm literally unable to get the form they want. Here's to hoping for better days!

All fingers crossed...