Wednesday, July 10, 2002
Bergen, Norway: Money, Money, Money
To Norway I went
Excessive Kroner I spent
But naught I regret
That is how one student summed up the Norway experience when assigned to write a quick haiku about the port we had just visited on Semester at Sea.
In the few Core sessions between Ireland and Norway we were told how this non-EU nation has managed to re-distribute wealth and narrow the gap between rich and poor. Through extremely high taxation compared to America, Norway provides one of the highest standards of living in the world for all its citizens. Why join the EU? Unlike Ireland, which joined the first chance it got, back in the early 70s, Norwegians have turned down the opportunity in every vote, even when their government has recommended it. Their North Sea oil is a state-owned asset—why mess with success?
We were interested to see this paragon of the welfare state, where maternity leave lasts six months and no one goes hungry. It didn't occur to most of us that these services are funded through $9 glasses of beer and $8 packs of cigarettes. Everyone was surprised by the prices, and it did slow down the students’ drinking. Dinner and lunch on the ship—with the wonderful food we are served every day—looked even better after a glance at the prices on any local menu.
Not only did we have to learn to divide by seven—7.1 Kroner to the dollar—for those checking our banking accounts via internet, the price increase was compounded by the revelation that the dollar had apparently plunged since we’d left Dublin. All those Visa transactions in euros came out to be equal to dollars, instead of a little less. Damn that MCI!
I have to admit, though, I personally would be willing to pay $20 for a burger and fries at TGI Friday’s if it meant I could get free health care and education for life.
We docked in Bergen, a truly lovely seaside port, an easy walk from the ship, with an open air fish market and gabled wooden houses from the 18th century that have been turned into retail stores selling Scandinavian sweaters and replicas of the gabled wooden houses. In addition to the fish trade, Bergen has regular ferry service to and from England, many Chinese and Thai restaurants, and, like most ports, at least three Irish pubs.
At Scruffy Murphy’s, we struck up a conversation with two Scottish oil pipeline inspectors. As free-lancers, they go wherever the money is. They were not fans of Margaret Thatcher, because she had privatized so many British industries, Tony Blair, because he had become too right-wing, or George Bush, because he had labeled Iran a non-democratic terrorist state when they knew firsthand that Iran does hold elections. They had worked there on the disputed border with Iraq and even had had a fight with their cab driver one night about which country their hotel was in. They leave their families for six months at a time and find this lifestyle a lucrative way to make a living in the new global economy.
Of course they both had e-mail. I've been tracking the growth of internet places. Last summer, when I brought students to London, we patronized the storefront in Islington, with folding chairs and aging computers that charged ₤1 (about $1.50 then) an hour, pro-rated.
This year in London the most convenient place in Hammersmith was a stuffy, three-room office with not very fast computers that charged ₤2 for the first 20 minutes, ₤1 for the rest of the hour, or about $4 an hour.
In Greece, I ducked in to check on prices at one place on the Plaka, where all tourists are sent to shop, and found that it was up four stories on a winding staircase that had been built before the internet was a gleam in Al Gore’s eye. On my way to the top I met a Brit who told me that it was a couple of bucks an hour. Once we were in the port, Piraeus, a local photo shop with four computers did a bang up business, and had a line of students at all times. They advertised five minutes free to check e-mail, but I can barely get AOL open in that time. If you actually used it, it came to $4 an hour.
The best internet place we have found so far was in Cadiz. A few blocks from the ship, the crowded rooms held fast modem computers. You could bring a disc or download files, and also make phone calls from booths that were set up for international direct dialing. They charged only €1.80 an hour for internet use, pro rated by the minute. If you could finish up in half an hour—90 cent please.
Dublin was a bit higher, the rooms weren’t as crowded, the computers were great, and you paid up front the equivalent of $6 an hour, ordered in quarter-hour increments. Norway was about the same, although one little newsagent-snack shop-internet café came out to one Kroner a minute—meaning almost $9 an hour! At the cheaper place we went to, for $6 an hour you could go downstairs to a clean, modern, but very dark room with fellow internet travelers seated around tables, some wearing headsets. It was very quiet. A bit like an opium den.
This new industry of internet service provides a fascinating lesson in global economics. As The Economist magazine’s Big Mac index shows how currencies vary around the world by comparing the price of a virtually identical product, the Big Mac, so the pricing of internet service should even out with ever more of us wanting to check e-mail and bank balances.
These businesses have more in common with each other than with the economy that they are located in. Local stores closed on Sunday? Not the internet shops—9 or 10 AM until midnight, seven days a week. The young attendants all speak fluent English. And in Spain, when the whole country was on strike, the internet shop stayed open even though the protesters came marching in insisting that he close. This entrepreneur knew he had a gold mine and wasn't going to let any silly local issues—such as EU regulations—get in the way of his commerce. He is a globalized small business owner.
The money itself has made it easier to do business internationally. In the past you had to use up as much local currency as you could on your last day in town, and then change what was left over when you crossed a border. We don't have to do this for Greece, Spain, Ireland, Belgium, and Italy. All use euros. Their paper money is identical, but each government minted coins with the euro symbol on one side and a national symbol on the other. We're making a collection of one from each country for the neighborhood kids back home.
European economists and mathematicians have set up studies to track the diffusion of the coins throughout the continent. They know exactly how many are in circulation from each country, and exactly when they began to be used—January 1, 2002. Participants in the study check their change at intervals to see what a mixed bag they have. In Spain I picked up a Greek euro—was it brought by one of my fellow shipmates from Piraeus? Or by a Greek who recently stopped by, the way the Phoenicians did 3000 years ago?
As we sail closer to the half way point, we are coming to the first port where all bets are off—Mother Russia. Will our ATM cards work? Should we use American currency? How many rubles to the dollar—even the US Consulate advisory information doesn't tell us. We hear that some stores claim to take Visa and then deny it when it’s time to pay. And what will we want to buy? Those meals on the ship are looking better all the time. Will things be cheaper or more expensive than in affluent Norway?
On the second day at sea after blustery, cold Bergen, summer returned. The students were back out by the pool for their aerobics workouts, and a bunch of us crowded on the top deck to see the point where Sweden is on one side and Hamlet’s castle, Elsinore in Denmark, is on the other. We watched as the ship slipped by the longest bridge in the world, which connects the two countries.
Priceless.
For the WLRN Radio Reading Service, this is Kathleen Dixon Donnelly—at Sea
To Norway I went
Excessive Kroner I spent
But naught I regret
That is how one student summed up the Norway experience when assigned to write a quick haiku about the port we had just visited on Semester at Sea.
In the few Core sessions between Ireland and Norway we were told how this non-EU nation has managed to re-distribute wealth and narrow the gap between rich and poor. Through extremely high taxation compared to America, Norway provides one of the highest standards of living in the world for all its citizens. Why join the EU? Unlike Ireland, which joined the first chance it got, back in the early 70s, Norwegians have turned down the opportunity in every vote, even when their government has recommended it. Their North Sea oil is a state-owned asset—why mess with success?
We were interested to see this paragon of the welfare state, where maternity leave lasts six months and no one goes hungry. It didn't occur to most of us that these services are funded through $9 glasses of beer and $8 packs of cigarettes. Everyone was surprised by the prices, and it did slow down the students’ drinking. Dinner and lunch on the ship—with the wonderful food we are served every day—looked even better after a glance at the prices on any local menu.
Not only did we have to learn to divide by seven—7.1 Kroner to the dollar—for those checking our banking accounts via internet, the price increase was compounded by the revelation that the dollar had apparently plunged since we’d left Dublin. All those Visa transactions in euros came out to be equal to dollars, instead of a little less. Damn that MCI!
I have to admit, though, I personally would be willing to pay $20 for a burger and fries at TGI Friday’s if it meant I could get free health care and education for life.
We docked in Bergen, a truly lovely seaside port, an easy walk from the ship, with an open air fish market and gabled wooden houses from the 18th century that have been turned into retail stores selling Scandinavian sweaters and replicas of the gabled wooden houses. In addition to the fish trade, Bergen has regular ferry service to and from England, many Chinese and Thai restaurants, and, like most ports, at least three Irish pubs.
At Scruffy Murphy’s, we struck up a conversation with two Scottish oil pipeline inspectors. As free-lancers, they go wherever the money is. They were not fans of Margaret Thatcher, because she had privatized so many British industries, Tony Blair, because he had become too right-wing, or George Bush, because he had labeled Iran a non-democratic terrorist state when they knew firsthand that Iran does hold elections. They had worked there on the disputed border with Iraq and even had had a fight with their cab driver one night about which country their hotel was in. They leave their families for six months at a time and find this lifestyle a lucrative way to make a living in the new global economy.
Of course they both had e-mail. I've been tracking the growth of internet places. Last summer, when I brought students to London, we patronized the storefront in Islington, with folding chairs and aging computers that charged ₤1 (about $1.50 then) an hour, pro-rated.
This year in London the most convenient place in Hammersmith was a stuffy, three-room office with not very fast computers that charged ₤2 for the first 20 minutes, ₤1 for the rest of the hour, or about $4 an hour.
In Greece, I ducked in to check on prices at one place on the Plaka, where all tourists are sent to shop, and found that it was up four stories on a winding staircase that had been built before the internet was a gleam in Al Gore’s eye. On my way to the top I met a Brit who told me that it was a couple of bucks an hour. Once we were in the port, Piraeus, a local photo shop with four computers did a bang up business, and had a line of students at all times. They advertised five minutes free to check e-mail, but I can barely get AOL open in that time. If you actually used it, it came to $4 an hour.
The best internet place we have found so far was in Cadiz. A few blocks from the ship, the crowded rooms held fast modem computers. You could bring a disc or download files, and also make phone calls from booths that were set up for international direct dialing. They charged only €1.80 an hour for internet use, pro rated by the minute. If you could finish up in half an hour—90 cent please.
Dublin was a bit higher, the rooms weren’t as crowded, the computers were great, and you paid up front the equivalent of $6 an hour, ordered in quarter-hour increments. Norway was about the same, although one little newsagent-snack shop-internet café came out to one Kroner a minute—meaning almost $9 an hour! At the cheaper place we went to, for $6 an hour you could go downstairs to a clean, modern, but very dark room with fellow internet travelers seated around tables, some wearing headsets. It was very quiet. A bit like an opium den.
This new industry of internet service provides a fascinating lesson in global economics. As The Economist magazine’s Big Mac index shows how currencies vary around the world by comparing the price of a virtually identical product, the Big Mac, so the pricing of internet service should even out with ever more of us wanting to check e-mail and bank balances.
These businesses have more in common with each other than with the economy that they are located in. Local stores closed on Sunday? Not the internet shops—9 or 10 AM until midnight, seven days a week. The young attendants all speak fluent English. And in Spain, when the whole country was on strike, the internet shop stayed open even though the protesters came marching in insisting that he close. This entrepreneur knew he had a gold mine and wasn't going to let any silly local issues—such as EU regulations—get in the way of his commerce. He is a globalized small business owner.
The money itself has made it easier to do business internationally. In the past you had to use up as much local currency as you could on your last day in town, and then change what was left over when you crossed a border. We don't have to do this for Greece, Spain, Ireland, Belgium, and Italy. All use euros. Their paper money is identical, but each government minted coins with the euro symbol on one side and a national symbol on the other. We're making a collection of one from each country for the neighborhood kids back home.
European economists and mathematicians have set up studies to track the diffusion of the coins throughout the continent. They know exactly how many are in circulation from each country, and exactly when they began to be used—January 1, 2002. Participants in the study check their change at intervals to see what a mixed bag they have. In Spain I picked up a Greek euro—was it brought by one of my fellow shipmates from Piraeus? Or by a Greek who recently stopped by, the way the Phoenicians did 3000 years ago?
As we sail closer to the half way point, we are coming to the first port where all bets are off—Mother Russia. Will our ATM cards work? Should we use American currency? How many rubles to the dollar—even the US Consulate advisory information doesn't tell us. We hear that some stores claim to take Visa and then deny it when it’s time to pay. And what will we want to buy? Those meals on the ship are looking better all the time. Will things be cheaper or more expensive than in affluent Norway?
On the second day at sea after blustery, cold Bergen, summer returned. The students were back out by the pool for their aerobics workouts, and a bunch of us crowded on the top deck to see the point where Sweden is on one side and Hamlet’s castle, Elsinore in Denmark, is on the other. We watched as the ship slipped by the longest bridge in the world, which connects the two countries.
Priceless.
For the WLRN Radio Reading Service, this is Kathleen Dixon Donnelly—at Sea
posted by Kathleen at 8:52 AM
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