Oh. I take it back.

Ikke bestått.

There it stood. Black and white. Two weeks earlier than I expected.

I had just logged on to the Bergenstest's website to check on the exact date I could get the test results for the two language tests, but it was there. Already.

I didn't pass.

Somewhat ironic, considering just hours before I had posted May 14th's blog post "Hoping it's the last one. . . ", an almost cocky report of how easy the test was. I had specifically written it for any student out there, nervously awaiting November's oral Bergenstest, feeling they were unprepared, not knowing what to expect. "Don't worry! It was easy!"

That's a big part of my shock, quite frankly. How could I be so off-base? How could I have misjudged my performance so wrong? Am I really that bad when I speak Norwegian? I was stunned.

One of my first instincts was to go back and remove that blog and erase my Facebook link to the blog, mostly to spare myself the embarrassment of being so convinced I was going to pass (remember this: "they didn't even test me with the 4th graph test!!") to now having to announce I didn't pass. But. . . welcome to my roller-coaster life. One more high followed by one more slamming low against the valley floor. Now to wait til May 28th for the next up or down. The written test results.

*Hoping* it's all done: no more Bergenstest

Saturday morning I spent about $85 to take a two and a half hour train (actually bus) ride to Oslo, then another $150 to have a 10-minute conversation with a teacher who would then judge if my Norwegian was good enough, or not good enough, to work in the health care field in Norway.

That about sums it up.

I took the written skriftlig Bergenstest about 3 weeks ago now, the test that allows a non-native Norwegian speaker to gain admittance into a Norwegian university. I need it to take a course that will allow me to work as a nurse in Norway. These are brand-spanking new regulations as of last November, if anyone out there is saying "uh-uh. . . I didn't have to do that. . ." To those of you who are  very nervous about the oral Bergenstest: I write this for you.


The written test was challenging, mostly because it is divided into 5 sections of reading, writing, listening and comprehension and you must pass all five parts. Because the oral muntlig Bergenstest is mostly for foreigners who wish to work in the health care field, there aren't a lot of us out there taking this test (hence the 2.5 hour train ride to Oslo). In fact, when I asked my teacher--my teacher in the Bergenstest preparation class--what she knew about the oral test, she had to look it up on the internet, because it's been several years since she had just one student take it. Our class has been very much in the mode of Teach To The Test, but just the written test--no focus on the oral at all.

To say I felt unprepared is an understatement. But to be perfectly honest, I really didn't give it much thought. In fact, it wasn't until I was walking up the stairs in the building of the test site that I began to feel a little bit nervous. My teacher told me to just relax and remind myself it's just a simple converation. A German friend reminded me to speak slowly, telling me that we-foreign-speakers try to speak Norwegian quickly "inanattempttohideourmistakesandmakeussoundmorenorwegian". Good insight.

I walked into the building, 15 minutes early (having registered a few hours earlier, and then spent 1.5 hours wandering around the neighborhood trying not to get lost), and the test proctor met me at the door: "Emily?"
"Ja?" sa jeg.
"We can test you now, the 12:45 student didn't show up."
"Ok!" sa jeg. "Jeg er klar, hvis jeg kan bare gå på do først!"
"Of course! I think it's better to just get this out of the way, then you're not so nervous."

We sat down at a small table across from one another, and another proctor sat at a table a few meters away from us. They asked me to tell me a bit about myself. I recited the sentences every Norwegian student knows by heart after the first week in class. My name is xxx, I come from xxx, I moved here xxx, I am educated as a xxx, I work as a xxx, I am married, i have xxx children. . .

Then she presented me with 3 lamenated pages. Each page had about 5 pictures on it. She told me I would choose one page, and I would be asked to describe the pictures, then I'd be asked to agree or disagree with a statement, and then we'd have a very short conversation about the topic.

My options consisted of digital communication (with pictures of computers, cell phones and email), sports and, I believe, gambling, and immigrant issues. To tell you the truth, I didn't even reallly look at the last two options. Knowing nothing about gambling and sports, and not really identifying with "immigrant issues in Norway", seeing that I am a white woman from a developed Western land, I choose the topic of digital communication.

First: describe what you see in the pictures. This was not elaborate, deep thoughts here people. "That's a computer, looks like they're talking on skype with each other. I really like skype--it helps me stay in contact with my family and friends. . . here's a cell phone, and they're sending an SMS to someone. Norwegians realy like to send SMS (it's true). . . "

Then the woman asked me to talk about the statement on the flip side: "I think digital technology has made us more lonely/alone". She told me I could take a few minutes to jot down a few notes, which for some reason or another, I declined and just jumped right in. (I think perhaps my confidence was positive???) I disagreed, and gave a few sentences of why I felt the way I did. Three sentences top.

Then she asked me a few questions (this is the "conversation" part of the test, but really was rather one sided): What are the dangers of technology and youth? What problems might there be with the elderly and technology? It is possible that we can get overwhelmed by the information out there? What dangers are there with security?

One thing I think everyone who is learning a foreign language learns to do is dance around what you really want to say until you find a sentence that contains the vocabulary that you actually possess. This "skill" was put to good use in that final section.

"Ok!" she said, after no more than 10 minutes, "We're done!"
"Completely done?" I asked. . . totally shocked.
"Ja!" 


This was actually a very good sign. In the test information it states that if there is any doubt about your ability to communicate, we could be asked to do a fourth section--looking at a graph or diagram of sorts, and asked to describe what it showed. Seeing that this didn't happen, I was incredibly encouraged.

In the hallway a few other students waited, nervously wringing their hands. Another man bounced down the hall, a big grin on his face. He reassured one of the nervous women: "It's easy! They are very nice!"

Results come in two weeks, along with the written test results.

The work, party, test update

Last week's three biggies are behind me: first day of work, birthday party, and the Norwegian language test. All went about as well as one could have expected. 

I began working last week as, essentially, a nursing assistant in an assisted living facility. However, seeing that I am not licensed as a nursing assistant (guess what lovely agency I'd have to apply to for that? My favorite Norwegian bureaucratic agency of all: SAFH!), I am paid an even lower wage. I was hired specifically to work in a one-to-one patient assignment with a dementia patient. I, of course, cannot elaborate much more than that, due to patient taughetsplikt (confidentiality), but I am learning a bit here and there about the Norwegian health care system (pros and cons), employment (pros and cons), and dementia (all cons). And just what my priorities and limits are. More on that later. Like 6 weeks later.

Today I also began doing a little "spring cleaning" at the local museum, which was advertised as being a one to two week job, but will more likely be four weeks. I frankly don't have four weeks to give them. But it also looks like I might be able to work a few days here and there with them this summer, and perhaps a bit into the fall, as well. So I haven't completely lost my opportunity to dress up in period costume!

DING DONG!
The party's starting!

We had a fun little belated birthday party for our newly-minted four-year old last week. Greta's birthday fell on the day before the barnehage closed for Easter vacation (what do you mean your daycare doesn't close for four days surround Easter? What kind of heathen country do you people live in?), so we delayed the party by 9 days so she'd actually have some friends in town to celebrate with. Four other 3- and 4-year olds joined us for homemade macaroni and cheese (no norsk pølse at our birthday parties!), chocolate cupcakes and Rice Krispie bars (which the children ate with great suspicion).

And then the Bergenstest. The five-hour long, five part written test of Norwegian language, designed primarily for those foreigners who wish to be admitted to a Norwegian university. I do not, in fact, wish to be admitted to a university, but I do wish to take a month long required nursing course in November, and to do so I need to pass this test. 

I believe the test went well, but not well enough. It consists of 5 parts--a reading comprehension of 3 different texts with both multiple choice and short answer, a listening comprehension of short 15 second conversations/newsreports/telephone messages, a listening comprehension of a 5 minute interview that you then turn around and write a 30 minute "report" on, a 350 work essay (this time on whether or not drivers licenses for new, young male drivers should have more restrictions on them or not), and the cursed A-B sentences. . .  

What are A-B sentences? 

A: Mari said, "Pappa can drive us to the theater".

B: Mari said that Pappa could drive them to the theater.

A: I shall not pass this test, although I studied very hard.

B: Although I studied very hard, will I not pass this test. (according to norwegian word order).

A: She has it like the yolk in an egg at her new job.

B: She really has it good at her new job.

Huh? 

The first two examples are (relatively simple) grammatical sentence switcheroos. Those I can handle. It's the third kind--the idioms--that throw me because you just can't study for them. You just have to have heard them once, twice, a dozen times. 

At any rate. . . that's my prediction.  

(A) I'll have my results in 6 weeks. 

Or. . . . 

(B) In 6 weeks, shall I have results mine. 

Diving in. . .

About this time last spring, I was cramming for a Norwegian proficiency exam (Norsk Prøve 3) that was required of me to take a 3-week long mandatory nursing course for foreign educated nurses. I passed the language test, and although it was the highest level of language class that was required by the nursing authorities, I knew my language skills weren't truly good enough to work as a professional nurse or midwife. So, I enrolled in the next level class, a "studiegruppe" that prepares students to take the highest level test (the Bergenstest) which documents that one is fluent enough to enter university levels courses. I started this class in August, meeting two days a week. Life was nutty back then: every spare minute of my days were spent at the house, insulating, painting, sawing up something or another. Needless to say, I was a terrible student, but I felt justified because my time was more valuably spent working on the house. I attended class hoping to absorb the grammar lessons, hear the language spoken, and make even just minor improvements. After all, I didn't really need to be there, this was all just bonus points. I didn't need to take the Bergenstest. I had passed my required level of language proficiency.

Because of SAFH (nursing license people) dragging their feet on my nursing license paperwork, I was unable to register for the mandatory nursing course offered in November. This, too, prompted a deep valley on the roller coaster of life in Norway, but that was one of many sob stories I opted not to write about. Come late January, as I entered the second semester of my studiegruppe class, I attempted to register for the mandatory nursing course offered this coming May. Imagine my surprise, imagine the gut-sinking empty pit in my stomach, imagine the wave of nausea and accompanying cold sweat that overcame me when I read on the nursing website that they had changed their language requirement and I was now required to pass the Bergenstest.

My language teacher likes to tell us that 1) 60% of random Norwegians plucked off the street would not pass the Bergenstest and that 2) Norwegian high school students take 13 years of studying to get to that level of language competency. She shares these lovely thoughts with us not to discourage us (although they do) but to remind us that mastering a language is not something that comes quickly.

So I am beginning to cram for yet another Norwegian language exam. I thought the last one was a stretch to pass, given my short amount of time studying the language. This one is an even longer shot. I have no other choice than to dive right in, and really hit the books.

And now to get off the computer, and actually do as I said. . .  April 14th is approaching quickly.

And. . . skriftlig bestått (written passed)

Perhaps it was the exhaustion of 2 moves in 5 days, 12+ hours of house-cleaning, and the promise of living out of suitcases for months that stunted my reaction this time around. Or perhaps it was being handed the envelope at 7:30am by Erik, while I still sat groggily in bed. Or maybe I had used up all my jumping up and down jumping up and down excitement with the first Norsk Prøve 3 results, two weeks earlier. Or maybe I was just so convinced I actually would pass that I really wasn't so worried. No. . . definitely not the last one. But when Erik handed me the envelope, which he had fetched from the mailbox around midnight the night before--and wisely opted not to wake me over--I was rather numb.

But I did it. I passed that stinking skriftlig norsk prøve 3-- all three stinking sections: writing of essays, reading comprehension and listening comprehension.

I didn't jump up and down. I didn't whoop. I didn't fist-pump "YES!" like my Norwegian friend did when she heard my news. I think I sighed heavily. Shed a few tears of relief, but didn't really feel a huge weight lifted from my shoulders.

I know I certainly would have an intense reaction if I had failed. I would have cried--quite hard--knowing I would have to study more, retake the exam, postpone a nursing class, and put my life on hold even further.

But, now I don't. And if I weren't so distracted by suitcases scattered all over, federal taxes that still need to be filed, and the great unknown of architect plans and housing options for August and September, I probably would have jumped up and down.

But I didn't.

Norsk Prøve (muntlig). . .

drum roll please. . . .

Norskprøve 3 Muntlig (Norwegian level B1, oral test):   PASSED!

Such excitement. Such a relief. I know it's just the beginning. But it's one more big hurdle in the longest hurdle race of my life.

Bestått!  

I now anxiously await July 4th, when the results of the written (listening, written, reading) test are expected to arrive.

Norsk prøve 3: ferdig (finished)

Today, at 11am sharp, immigrant students across the country of Norway sat down to take Norsk Prøve 3 (the 2nd level of Norwegian proficiency). 

It was a challenge, that’s for sure. Reading comprehension, the easiest (as expected).  Listening, a bit more difficult than I expected, namely because I didn’t understand all the words in the question. “Is it higher, lower, or pblørjæreneskap”. One can only guess that means “in the middle” or “unchanging” or “pending” or something to that effect.  “Is Lars angry, sad, or skjeløerfætig”. Hmm. . . from the 5 seconds that my brain processed him to actually be speaking he seemed pretty positive, so he must have been skjeløerfætig! 

The speaking part was a bit easier than I expected, to be honest (so if I don’t pass. . .grrr. . . ). We were paired with a partner, mine a 50 year old woman from Lithuania, married to a Norwegian man, who takes the evening language course in Lillehammer two nights a week. We were given our first topic: “Talk together about what your ideal job would be in Norway.” Easy! This is a topic of conversation with just about every other person I meet in Norway. Second, individual topic: “Talk about something you enjoy doing, something you are very flink (capable) at”. Also rather easy. I talked about how I like to knit and sew, how I’ve made many sweater and hats for my daughter, how I don’t have a sewing machine in Norway, how I’ve met Norwegian friends through my knitting group. (I think the norsk teachers liked this: it shows I’m meeting other Norwegians, and using Norwegian outside of class, and trying to integrate. Not that this matters in trying to pass the test. . . but maybe???)  My partner was asked to speak, individually, about a place that she thinks is very nice. She kind of rambled on and on, vaguely, about Lithuania.

Finally, we were asked to discuss together “what we think is different or similar between Norway and our homelands”. This is one of those very broad topics that you can kind of bend whatever way you want. Are you most able to talk about food? Fine. Sports? Great. Weather? Go at it. I was a little annoyed with my partner, as I was told to begin the first conversation, and she was told to begin the second conversation. She proceeded to do so by saying, “So, Emily. . . what do you think is different in Norway from your homeland?” Cop out! “Maybe the weather?” she prompted. I responded by saying the weather is very much the same, where I grew up it’s cold, blah blah blah. In the end, while I was most worried about the topics of conversation being difficult, they weren’t. I just hope my grammar met their standards. We were certainly able to communicate, both with each other and with the teachers, but whether this is enough, is anybody’s guess.

The writing was the longest portion of the test (90 minutes) and also challenging. In fact, my hand is still kind of shaking from all the gripping it’s done in the last 4 hours. Every test begins with a short (100 word) “letter” of some sort, usually a complaint letter to the newspaper, city council, or neighborhood council. This was a letter to your neighborhood/community council regarding your neighbor who makes a lot of noise at night. It’s pretty easy to embellish these letters, such as “I hope you can help me with my big problem. My new neighbor moved into the neighborhood 3 months ago and . . . “ See—used up 20 words already. And have demonstrated my ability to properly use adjectives and several prepositions.  The second, longer (200 words) essays are generally more challenging. Today, we had a choice between two: 1) Write about a store that you’d like to open. If you’ve had a store before, you can talk about what you did.  Or 2) Write about what it takes to make a good [word you don’t understand]. Shit! What does that word mean? Environment? Together-something-meeting? Arrrrg. . .  So, the choice was pretty easy. I must write about a “butikk” that I want to open. (Turns out that mystery word was “community”. Probably should have known that one). Again, I fell back on knitting. “I have always had a desire to open a knitting and coffee store.” Problem was, I know how to say the verb “to knit”, but then became very unsure of the noun “knitting” (yes, it’s strikking). But norsk doesn’t use too many “-ing” words. Like, “running” isn’t a noun—you use “to run”. So, I’m crossing my fingers that in the variety of ways that I used the words “strikke, strikking, å strikke”, something will be right. I actually began eliminating it all together, simply describing it as “my store” and a place “to knit”.

But here’s the deal: I have been in an official Norwegian class for FIVE months. We had to write on a pre-test survey how many hours of instruction we’ve received, and I was told I had 304 hours. My classmate sitting behind me? Two thousand hours. Two thousand hours. I say this not to brag. Really, not at all. I am writing this down as a reminder to myself that should I fail, I’ve still come a helluva long way in five months. Results arrive in the mail in 3-6 weeks.

Stay tuned. . .