Feminismus Wahn oder: Der schwedische Mann, die arme Sau

Eines vorab: Diesen Post möchte ich den armen schwedischen Männern widmen, die hier in Skandinavien ein trostloses Dasein fristen zwischen all den Hardcore Feministinnen, die nicht ruhen, bis auch wirklich alles und jeder bis auf die letzte Kommastelle gleichberechtigt ist. Das einzige Problem: Hier in Schweden ist schon alles so gleichberechtigt, gleichberechtigter geht nicht!

Wenn man als Nicht-Skandinavier nach Schweden kommt, ist man natürlich erst einmal begeistert von der Gleichberechtigung der Geschlechter. Frauen fahren Bus, Männer kochen, und gemeinsam wird sich um das Einkommen und den Nachwuchs gekümmert. So weit, so gut. Und klar, ich will natürlich auch nicht bestreiten, dass es sehr angenehm ist, einen schwedischen Freund zu haben, der die Waschmaschine ohne Anweisung bedienen kann und der ohne Aufforderung den Abwasch macht. Dafür, liebe Feministinnen, danke ich Euch auch aus vollstem Herzen.

Allerdings muss man auch mal wissen, wann Schluss ist. Am Weltfrauentag sah ich einen Artikel auf der Titelseite einer großen Tageszeitung mit folgendem schockierenden Titel: "Nur 40% aller Autos in Schweden haben einen weiblichen Besitzer." SKANDAL. Das ist natürlich ein todsicheres Anzeichen dafür, dass die armen schwedischen Amazonen ganz schlimm von ihren Männern unterdrückt werden. Diese 40% können natürlich nicht zum Beispiel daran liegen, dass Frauen vielleicht umweltbewusster sind und statt dem Auto lieber den Bus nehmen. Oder dass Ehepaare sich ein Auto teilen. Oder dass es vielleicht mehr Männer als Frauen gibt. Nein. Die bösen Männer - oder wieso nicht gleich auch noch die sexistische Autoindustrie, wenn wir schonmal dabei sind - verweigern 10% der Frauen ein Auto. Schockierend, ich weiß.

Schockierend vor allem deswegen, weil momentan ja nun wirklich genug anderes, ich mutmaße sogar mal ganz dreist, wichtigeres auf der Welt passiert. Kriege werden geführt, Diktaturen werden gestürzt, ganze Wirtschaftssysteme brechen zusammen...und was macht der Schwede? Der regt sich auf, dass Kraftfahrzeuge geschlechtermässig nicht 50:50 verteilt sind! Vergesst Weltwirtschaftskrise, Taliban und Putin - Schweden braucht in solchen Krisenzeiten unsere volle Unterstützung. Obwohl, hier muss man auch fair sein: Die Autoproblematik ist natürlich nicht die einzige Front, an der die Feministen kämpfen.

Nein, ein noch viel größerer Dorn im Auge ist vielen hier die Tatsache, dass manche Eltern ihre Töchter mit Barbies und ihre Söhne mit Autos spielen lassen! Das ist ja nun auch wirklich schrecklich. Und dann kommen da noch skrupellose Spielzeughersteller wie Lego und Toys'r Us und bilden in ihren Katalögen Mädchen in pinken Kleidern und Jungen in Supermannkostümen ab. Da nimmt so ein Kind natürlich einen enormen Schaden. Ganz klar. Die 5 Jahre des Barbiespielens in meiner Kindheit haben mich auch schwer geprägt.

Doch selbst die Tatsache, dass es mittlerweile extra für den schwedischen Markt geschlechtsneutralen Spielwarenkatalöge, Puppen und Spielzeug gibt, beruhigt die aggressiven Feministinnen hierzulande nicht. Nein, ganz im Gegenteil, die kommen nur noch auf immer wildere Ideen. Der Höhepunkt (bisher): Eltern sollen ihre Kinder nicht mehr "hon" (sie) oder "han" (er) nennen, sondern sie mit dem neutralen "hen" betiteln. Denn so kann das Kind sich frei entfalten, ihm wird kein Geschlecht aufgezwungen. Gut, könnte man natürlich jetzt mal so anmerken, dass es aber leider einfach mal so ist, dass Menschen einfach verschieden sind und es Mädchen und Jungen gibt. Aber nein, wir sind ja alle so schrecklich gleich! Es gab sogar schon Zeitungen hier, die alle "er" und "sie" mit "hen" ersetzt haben. Ich weiß, Wahnsinn.

Mein Name ist Britta. Meine Eltern haben mich von Geburt an als "sie" bezeichnet und mir Barbies zu Weihnachten geschenkt. Meine Spielsachen von Lego waren alle pink und eines meiner absoluten Lieblingslieder war lange "Ich bin so froh, dass ich ein Mädchen bin.". Trotz (oder vielleicht gerade wegen) meiner geschlechtsspezifischen Kindheit und Jugend bin ich heute doch erstaunlicherweise recht glücklich und zufrieden. Ich würde vorschlagen, dass die schwedischen Feministen jetzt mal die armen Männer, Barbies und Eltern in Ruhe lassen und sich den wahren Problemen der Welt zuwenden. Solange auf der Welt noch Krieg und Hunger herrschen, kann ich mich beim besten Willen nicht über ein paar pinke Lego Bauklötze aufregen.

Schenker Sweden sucks or: Why you need a Swedish ID to pick up a package

Today I would like to take the opportunity to congratulate the Swedish postal system on successfully preventing probably millions of packages to get picked up by their recipients, who dare to live in Sweden WITHOUT a Swedish ID. Even worse, there are apparently even individuals who have the nerve to try to pick up packages with - gasp - European ID cards, which are otherwise only accepted at airports, borders and other half-legal institutions. I know, it is hard to believe that there are people like this out there, who try to undermine the Swedish postal laws - so let us look at a case to understand the severity of threats that the Swedish post is exposed to on a daily basis by aggressive non-Swedish ID possessing foreigners.

Britta, a typical dubios immigrant from high-risk country Germany, orders something online in Sweden. Remark: Of course Britta does not have a Swedish ID because she thinks her German one is sufficient (what a little naive lamb). However, so one day she gets a letter in the mail with a note to pick up her package. It says that ID is required. Britta thinks "no problem", grabs her worthless German ID and hurries to the post office. Once there she only has to wait 15 minutes - because service in Sweden is always high-speed - and tada - she presents the letter and her ID to the post guy and says innocently she wants to pick up a package.

But the post guy of course knows betters. When he sees Britta's German "ID" it only takes him 4 minutes and 2 chats with colleagues to identify the ID card as Non-Swedish (rumour says that people at Swedish post offices are trained by the MI6). He then hands Britta the ID back with the words "Wrong ID, we need Swedish ID.". He of course doesn't let Britta confuse him with neither her arguments that the German ID is valid within whole Europe nor the fact that she can even cross borders with it. Nix. You want to pick up package in Sweden, you need Swedish ID.

Now Britta gets a little annoyed because this is not the first time this happens. Actually this happes to her all the time. So she asks the post officer why it then says on the Schenker information board standing next to him that "European IDs are accepted". But the post officer has already an answer: "Your ID is not European". Most people would have thought that Germany is kind of within Europe, but no, our anti-pick up -package-terrorism expert knows of course better.

But since Britta is German (and since she really would like her package because it includes christmas presents for her family and it is 23rd of December) she does not give up yet. She forces the guy to call Schenker. Or the police. He chooses Schenker.

10 minutes later Britta gets the package. With her German ID.

So now tell me Schenker Sweden, is this really necessary??? Do I have to fight for an hour and threaten people to call the police now every time I have to pick up a package from you? I don't think so.

And just for the record: That stupid Swedish ID which you treat as holy grail of security can actually even be issued at BANKS. That is really super safe, especially looking at how reliable and trustworthy banks have proven to be in 2011!

The story of my couch or: Bolagret sucks

This post is dedicated to Bolagret, a Swedish furniture company from hell.


Compared to Bolagret, furniture shopping at IKEA is a zen-like experience.


But let's start from the beginning. In March I decided to get a new couch. After browsing the 2,7 furniture stores in Sweden with acceptable offers I finally ordered a very nice couch at Bolagret, a Swedish furniture store I back then was very fond of - probably since I had never bought furniture from them before. When looking back now, I should have seen the signs already back then that something was wrong: It took the lady at the checkout for example 'only' half an hour to process my order (yep, Sweden is unfortunately the country of service snails...), including a very rude "You don't have enough money on your account." comment when the first payment try did not work. Later it turned out that it actually was their creditcard reader that did not work. But nevermind. Being insulted and accused is actually one of the less bad things that happen to customers in Swedish shops.

So after some struggle the couch was ordered and paid and I was told delivery time would be 4-8 weeks. Yes, I know, you could wonder why that takes soooo long, but as I said before, we are in Sweden here, you are not surprised by such things. I was actually happy they were able to deliver the couch at all and that it was not sold out like so many other things (alcohol, bread, winter jackets, etc) in this banana republic. So we waited patiently for the couch. 4 weeks. 5 weeks. 6 weeks. 7 weeks. After 8 weeks we were still sitting on our temporary "couch" - an air mattress. Yes, that had white trash written all over it, but hey, we were willing to sacrifice 2 months of comfort for our dream couch.

When I was about to contact Bolagret after 8 weeks to ask where the hell my expensive couch was or if they maybe already had left the country with my money instead I suddenly got a note from the delivery company, stating they would come that Wednesday and deliver the couch between 8 and 12. Great that they only needed a 4 hour-window for this delivery. Who doesn't like to take vacation to get his couch delivered? But anyway, this is Sweden I tried to remind myself. So that Wednesday we waited patiently for the people from DHL. We were actually so excited that we already deflated our air mattress couch in ecstatic expectation of a real couch. At 12.15 the DHL people 'already' arrived. So we went outside to greet them and tell them which floor exactly they would have to bring the couch to. After all, we paid 50 Euro (FIFTY) for the delivery.

Well. Let's say that did not work out as expected. Instead, the DHL guy dropped a gigantic couch wrapped in a lot of very dirty plastic foil on a EUROPALLET right in front of our appartment building and just left. It took some minutes until I understood that he would not come back and that we would have to carry the couch upstairs on our own. That was of course very easy. I don't know if it was the extremely dirty packaging, the fact that the heavy couch was packaged as one and not two packages or the 25 kilo heavy europallette that we got on top of that, but it took almost 1 hour until everything was up in our appartment. After we had removed the dirt from our faces and changed into clean clothes we started unwrapping the couch.

Unfortunately, what we unwrapped was not the couch we had ordered. It had taken stupid Bolagret more than 8 weeks to deliver a couch in the a)wrong shape b)wrong fabric c)wrong colour and d)wrong modell! I have to say that I was first so confused that I started wondering if maybe I had actually ordered that couch. But after taking a second look at that hideous brown corduroy couch (I know!!! who on earth buys something like that?!) I realized that there was only one party to blame here: BOLAGRET. So I called their customer service and asked them kindly where my couch was and whose couch I was giving shelter to.

First thing I noticed when calling Bolagret's "Customer service": They did not apologize. Instead they asked me if I was sure that it was the wrong couch. Yes, you can imagine the level of my pulse. After having reassured them that it really was not my couch that I had received, they promised me to look it up and get back to me asap. For the rest of the day I did not hear anything from them. So what does a labile German customer do who ordered a very expensive couch and does not know where it is or if it exists at all? Exactly, I wrote some words of choice on the facebook wall of Bolagret. And tada, they reacted within 15 minutes and promised me to ring me first thing the next morning.

Morning turned into afternoon and finally Bolagret called me. Unfortunately they did not have any answers to my questions. Even worse, they were even not sure anymore that my couch had been produced at all! So I had to wait another day. Pulse was now very close to 1200. On day 3 they finally managed to track down our couch in Stockholm (excuse me?!) and told us we would get it in one week. I also urged them to remove that brown Alien couch from my appartment immediately. Bolagret promised to send someone to pick it up the day after. And the day after they said they would come one day later. And another day later they finally decided to exchange the couches at the same time. The fact that we had to live with a strangers couch on a europallette that was blocking our living room for one week was not really interesting for them.

After another week finally the day of couch-exchanging came and we awaited the arrival of the couch we had ordered. This time delivery was scheduled between 2 and 4 since I had refused to sacrifice one half day for this again. A little after 4 our couch arrived. My first move was checking if it was the right modell this time. You know, it was getting a little crowded over there in our living room, I was not sure if we could fit even more Bolagret couches into our apartment. After all we are not a furniture storage, even if Bolagret apparently thought so. But to my great relief it was the right couch. This time the DHL guy even helped us to carry the couch upstairs - but we also had to help him carry down the wrong couch. Nevermind. So here we were, standing next to our unwrapped couch. The atmosphere was very tense since we only expected something to be wrong.

And we were right. When we wanted to assemble the couch (no, here in Sweden that is not included and yes, I know, banana republic!) we searched and searched for the legs for the couch and we could not find them! Well, why couldn't we find them? Maybe because they had not been delivered! I mean, sure, what was I expecting at that point? That Bolagret would give me the stuff I paid for without a fight? Noooooo. So I called for the 450th time their 'customer service'. I actually already knew the people by name. The customer service's reaction was "Are you kidding me." followed by "You have to look again under the couch for the legs". No excuse, no "I am so sorry that we fucked up" - no nothing. After I had convinced the lady with my voice shaking from anger that there really were no fucking legs, she agreed to UPS them to me. Actually inbetween she apparently was so intimidated that she offered to bring them by our house personally. In any case, she promised I would have the legs the next day around lunch time and they would be sent to my office which was great since I was running out of vacation days to take for receiving couch parts.

So the next day I stayed in the office until 5. No legs, no delivery. The next morning I called UPS just to find out that it would take two more days to deliver the legs. I thought that was great, since I don't mind waiting for 8 weeks for a couch, get the wrong one, wait one more week for the correct one and then wait another week on top of it to be able to assemble it. I decided to once more call the customer service to tell them how great this all was going. And this time I wanted to not only scream and shout at them to restabilize my mental health, no, I wanted a compensation.

I know what you are thinking now. Compensation? Did Bolagret after all that drama not offer a compensation voluntarily? Haha. Welcome to Sweden. They actually REFUSED to give me a compensation! Why? I quote: "You must understand, this couch has already cost us so much with that redelivery, we hardly earn something from this." I answered calmly that I am really sorry but that I did not ask them to deliver the wrong couch in the first place, that I had paid for delivery and had to carry 2 couches instead of 1, that I had waited 10 weeks for the bloody couch and that even if their company would go bankrupt it would not be my problem. I deserved a compensation. After she still refused, I forced her to discuss this matter with her boss.

You know what I got in the end? A fucking VOUCHER worth 50 Euro. And you know for which shop? Yes, Bolagret. When their customer service told me this I was so shocked and in disbelief that I actually was speechless. And we even had to go to their goddamn shop to pick the bloody voucher up. And guess what. When we arrived at the shop nobody knew anything about a voucher. So I made my final call to the customer service and 1 week later we got the voucher via mail. I mean, how dumb can a company be?! Even almost 3 months later I am still so pissed-off that I get a strange desire to set fire to the Bolagret shop every time I pass by. We tried twice to find something in this shop to buy so we could get rid of the bloody voucher. But we can't. Bolagret still makes me sick.

So what will happen next? I am actually thinking about burning the voucher. In front of the Bolagret shop in Malmö. A manifestation of what I truly think of Swedish customer service:
Sweden, you still can learn how to treat customers right, it is not too late yet!

And Bolagret: Pardon my language, but GO FUCK YOURSELF.

Zara Online Shop spielt mit Google Translator

Interessante Produktnamen im neuen Zara Online Shop...ob man jetzt eine Umschlagtasche (?) aus Fohlenleder sucht oder eher hinter einer Wickelmattentasche (??) her ist...da ist für jeden was dabei...Minimalisten entscheiden sich für die Umhängetasche Blasebalg, während es für Shopper mit etwas opulenterem Geschmack die Umhängetasche dreifacher Blasebalg gibt...und für Avantgardisten bietet Zara "Bowling Zigarettenspitze". Es darf angenommen werden, dass es sich dabei auch um eine Tasche handelt. Allerdings hoffentlich nicht aus Fohlenleder...

My time in Sweden in Facebook updates

2008-2010. And yes, most of the time I actually enjoy being here - even if my updates seem to say something else. When reading please keep in my mind that after all I am German - complaining is not an expression of negativity, it is our favorite pastime!

The famous oh-so-fabulous Swedish summer - all I say is: 8 degrees in August. EIGHT.

How can you tell that you are in Sweden? It is August, you're sitting inside and you are wondering 2 things: 1. when will they finally turn on the heating 2. why you left your fleece jacket at home...because it is max 10 degrees outside.

‎12 min of cycling and I look like I swam through the Öresund. Finally traditional Swedish summer weather!

Britta wonders if Swedish marketers either have a very dark sense of humour or are insane: I just saw a very unappetising TV show on food hoarders and who sponsored it? A Swedish bread company! Interesting branding strategy.

Britta is back in Sweden..........oh wait, the enthusiasm is missing.

Britta saw a Vodka bottle for 5 Euro in a supermarket today. I was so moved that I took a picture of it (!) and almost cried tears of joy. That it what 2 years of Sweden and its bloody Systembolaget do to you, children!

Britta thinks you know you've officially integrated into Swedish society when you run panic-stricken to Systembolaget to buy alcohol for a party that is still THREE days away and pray on the way that there is at least some kind of alcohol left.

Britta has on the way back home met 100 reasons why alcohol is state regulated in Sweden. Actually, given what I saw tonight, I have to say that those Systembolaget commercials are actually not exaggerating at all, they paint a quite realistic picture of what goes on in Sweden after 8pm.

How can you tell that it is summer in Scandinavia? It is almost too warm for gloves and a fleece jacket. But only almost.

Neuester In-Drink in Schweden - Rose Wein mit Fanta. Dieses Volk hat wirklich absolut keine Trinkkultur.

Schweden können nicht nur kein Brot backen, die können auch keine Gurken einlegen. Ich verhunger hier noch mal.

Britta has just spent 5 min of precious lifetime picking raisins out of my müsli. Seriously, why do Swedes have to put a ton of them into a single package of müsli?!

Britti will aus dem scheiss Småland abgeholt werden. Sofort. Und bringt mir ne Laugenbrezel mit!

Am 8. Tag schuf Gott die Sonne und sprach zu den Schweden: "Guckt euch die nochmal gut an, die seht ihr so schnell nicht wieder!"

Britti möchte aus dem Småland abgeholt werden. Hier schneit und friert es und es ist immer nur dunkel, so hab ich mir Schweden nich vorgestellt!

Britta just spent 10 minutes of precious life time spelling my name. I love Swedish customer service. Most frequently used word: No. Actually, probably the only word used by them.

Britta thinks you know you live in Sweden when it is mid June and you find yourself dressed in a fleece jacket, socks and the warmest pair of pants you own, wrapped into a blanket, sitting on the floor, trying desperately to activate your radiator

Der nächste Schwede, der meine 3 Waschmaschinen blockiert, is dran! Was kapiert dieses Volk an 2.5 Stunden Waschzeit nicht?!

Britta hat die Schnauze voll: Kaputter Rücken, lärmende Technonachbarn, kalte Heizung & widerliches Brot. Klein-Britta will aus dem Småland abgeholt werden - SOFORT!

Britta feels sorry for the Swedish people. ICA really is the best supermarket they offer you here? Sad!

Britta thinks: Dear Swedish state, if you want me to pay for parking, then please put a functioning ticket machine within reach.

Britta's kitchen is full of drunk, ugly, desperate, trash-producing Swedish male zombies. Happy Valentine's Day!

Britta thinks that the most annoying thing about Sweden, besides their bread, snus and supermarkets, definitely is snow.

Improving Sweden - Part One

After 2 years of constant (but absolutely justified) complaining about and criticizing of my current host country Sweden, I feel it is time to give something back. Sure, Swedes neither know how to bake proper bread, nor are they capable of driving a car or let alone customer service, but I should not forget that this country also gave me some really great things - kanelbullar, kebab pizza, godis...and my boyfriend.

Don't get me wrong, I totally think I complained for the right reasons and to a decent level (I could have written alone 10.000 entries more complaining about Swedish bread e.g.). But I fear that now after all those complaints I have left 8 million poor Swedes (who thanks to me suddenly became aware of their country's deficits) helpless in front of their crushed image of their home country, looking with their big blue eyes full of expectancy at me, not knowing what to do next. So instead of solely nagging about what goes wrong in Sweden, I decided that it is time for a change of strategy - it is time for con- and not destructive criticism. Therefore I will start a program today called 'Improving Sweden' in which I will give Sweden tips on how to become a better country. Yes, you may call me Mother Teresa.

So, the first thing we have to fix in Sweden is the huge problem with the supply of basically any product you can imagine. In large parts of the world, the supply/demand curve looks as following:Meaning there is actually a point where demand and supply reach a point of complete balance. Not so in Sweden. Since here the concept of supply is not very established, the curve looks like this:Yes, supply of products is very limited, meaning demand is unusual high and can never be fully satisfied. If you want proof for this, just try to get a package of not-yet-expired bread in a Swedish supermarket on Sunday. Or try to get a proper winter jacket later than September. Or, if you are especially naive, go and buy the alcohol you need for Saturday night on Saturday morning. Muhahaha. Good luck. This is what you will find:

And these examples are no exception, they are the rule. The Swedish version of 'The early bird catches the worm' would be 'The early bird is already too late and the worm is out of stock till next month'. Sometimes one can almost wonder if Sweden maybe after all is still a little bit of a developing country. With its product scarcity and problematically low supply flow it almost resembles a prettier version of the former DDR (German Democratic Republic).

Therefore my request to Sweden: Produce and buy more products! Build more warehouses to store them in! And distribute them in time and not 2 months later. Thank you and happy shopping!

6 clear signs that spring is arriving in Sweden

1) the snow turns into rain
2) minus degrees are substituted by tropical 4 degrees plus
3) Swedish girls start wearing their thin leather jackets again (5 minutes of sun and one degree above zero are apparently the perfect weather for spring fashion. maybe someone should tell them that it does not help putting on an XXL scarf when you only wear a leather jacket)
4) there are tons of grit on the streets. If snow and salt haven't managed to kill your shoes, these little crushed stones will.
5) suddenly there are people again! Like moths the Swedes are drawn towards the light and if there are 5 minutes of sun a day, you can be sure that they will all come outside and enjoy their first coffee in the 2 degrees warm sun, wrapped in 2 blankets, jammed between 4 umbrella heaters. So much about environmental friendly.
6) the supermarkets start selling Påskmus. That is basically rebottled Julmust, a Swedish version of Coca Cola that is completely undrinkable for foreigners because it is disgustingly sweet and artificial.