Restrictive Business Hours

There are so many things I love about living in Sweden. I probably haven’t made that clear enough over the last 18 months.

But no matter how many things you love about any place you call home for any period of time, there will inevitably be something you can’t stand.

One of the only things I’m still having a really tough time adjusting to even after a year and a half in this wonderful country is the unaccommodating business hours.

And I’m not just talking about Systembolaget, the government-run alcohol monopoly with some of the worst hours you could imagine. If you’re unfamiliar, catch up here.

No, it extends far past Systembolaget to virtually every type of business.

Below are major examples (and pictures, because you probably won’t even believe the words you read).

For comparison, I’ll also refer to some businesses in my hometown of Arcata, which had a population of 17,231 at the 2010 census. In the same year, my current town in Sweden had 16,350 inhabitants. For all intents and purposes, Arcata and Falköping are the same size.

Buying Food

Falköping has six grocery stories — four Swedish (two ICAs, a Coop, and a Willy’s), a Danish discount (Netto) and a German discount (Lidl).

ICA and Coop have the best hours. They’re open from 8 a.m. to 9 p.m., seven days a week.





Willy’s, where Amanda and I do most of our shopping, has the same schedule except on Sunday, when it opens two hours later.



No grocery store is open before 8 a.m. or after 9 p.m. I find that ridiculous, but that’s because I’m accustomed to much more flexible hours.

Statoil, an overpriced gas station with a “convenience” store that defies the term, is the only place in town you can get any small selection of groceries before 8 a.m. or after 9 p.m.



I’m not sure how convenient it can really be considered, though, since it’s only open from 6 a.m. to midnight on weekdays and 8 a.m. to midnight on weekends.

If you want any type of food at all after midnight, it’s the McDonald’s drive-thru until 1 a.m.



After that, your only option is pizza. We’ve got a couple dozen pizzerias in town, and to my knowledge three of them (Valentino, Happy Time and Eldorado) are open until 3 a.m. Friday and Saturday nights for partiers. That’s late for Sweden.



So, why am I complaining about this?

Because the town I grew up in, which is just as small as Falköping, is also home to six supermarkets (counting Safeway, Wildberries, Murphy’s Sunny Brae and Westwood, North Coast Co-Op and Ray’s Food Place, excluding mini-mart types like Greenview Market, Hutchins Grocery and Fourth Street Market on Samoa).

Safeway and Wildberries are probably two largest/most popular of those. Safeway is open 24 hours a day, seven days a week, and Wildberries is open 6 a.m. to midnight daily (same hours as our town’s “most-convenient” store). Even the Co-Op is open from 6 a.m. to 9 p.m. every day, and it has the worst hours of any supermarket in Arcata.

With a 24-hour supermarket, you never have to worry about buying groceries around the store’s schedule.

If you want other food in Arcata at strange hours, there’s Don’s Donuts and Toni’s Restaurant, which are also both open 24 hours. Arcata Pizza and Deli, which offers a lot more than just pizza, also serves the late-night crowd until 11 p.m. Sundays, 1 a.m. Monday through Thursday and 3 a.m. Friday and Saturday.

That’s what I’m used to, which makes the restrictive hours here in Sweden feel even more limited.

Buying Medicine

What Systembolaget is to alcohol, Apoteket is to medicine. Well, the government-owned pharmaceutical monopoly was actually abolished a few years ago — maybe the Swedish government didn’t like being put in the same category as Cuba or North Korea — but in small towns like Falköping, it’s still the only option for medicine.

Apoteket is open from 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. weekdays and 9:30 a.m. to 2 p.m. on Saturday. If you need prescription medication at 2:01 p.m. on Saturday afternoon, you have to wait 43 hours until the pharmacy opens again Monday morning.



That’s crazy, but maybe I say that in part because 24-hour pharmacies are becoming the norm in the United States, now mater how small a town is.

Buying Household Items

Sadly, Ö o B has some of the best hours of any store in town. It’s kind of like a small-scale Walmart — lots of random stuff at cheap (relative to this being Europe) prices. It’s open until 7 on weeknights and 5 on weekends.



Buying Books

Bokia operates several dozen bookstores across Sweden and is one of the largest book chains in the country. It doesn’t seem to be suffering the same fate as U.S. chains that Amazon has essentially put out of business.

Not that I buy a lot of my books at bookstores — I prefer Amazon UK’s selection and prices, even after international shipping — but if I did want to, I would have to do it between 10 a.m. and 6 p.m. on weekdays or 10 a.m. and 2 p.m. on Saturday.



It’s closed on Sundays, of course. What kind of a bookstore is that? I’ve never been a huge recreational reader but I’ve always imagined Sunday is probably the biggest recreational reading day of the week, no?

Buying a Cup of Coffee

Lila blå is our favorite coffee shop in town. They offer the best caffeinated drinks around, hands down. But if I’m not home and want to grab a cup at 6 or 7 in the morning, I’m out of luck. They never open before 8, close at 3 p.m. on Saturdays and are closed on Sundays.



Banking

I bank at Nordea and I often wonder why, because there are a couple of banks with slightly better hours.

If I need to go exchange currency or do an international transfer, which are pretty much the only things I can’t do online, I have to do it before 1 p.m.



Yes, my bank closes at 1 p.m. all but one day a week (it’s open until 6 on Thursday, likely dictated by Systembolaget’s extended hours that day of the week).

These limited hours aren’t unique to small Swedish towns. It’s not much better in the few big cities.

Why?

If any of this has surprised you, you’re probably wondering why it is this way.

As far as I can tell, there’s absolutely no demand for it to change. This is how it’s been for a long time and this is what Swedes are used to. Consumer preferences will never prompt an extension of opening hours. It’s obviously only expatriates like myself who have a problem with it.

There’s another reason, though, which has to do with how well Sweden treats its employees. There are countless perks for workers, such as at least five weeks of paid vacation every year.

The benefit here that I believe discourages any business from considering an extension of its hours is “OB,” which basically means inconvenient/uncomfortable working hours.

If somebody works during these hours, they automatically earn an hourly supplement to their fixed monthly salary. It varies a bit from employer to employer and I could be wrong with these details but it’s my understanding that many employers offer both a regular supplement for “simple” inconvenient hours and a double supplement for hours that are “particularly inconvenient.”

Simple inconvenient hours are generally something like weekdays after 6 p.m. or 7 p.m. until 10 p.m. or 11 p.m., when the extra inconvenient hours kick in.

Double inconvenient hours are paid on holidays, all hours between 6 p.m. on Fridays and 6 a.m. on Mondays and all other time between 10 p.m. or 11 p.m. and 6 a.m.

I understand that some industries in the U.S. offer similar differentials and that there are jobs where employees earn double-time or night shift differentials, but it’s not nearly as standard as it is here. My last newspaper could never have paid me a differential like that. My typical shift was 3 p.m. to almost midnight, often on weekends, too. That extra money would have added up fast.

If a Swedish grocery store tried to remain open 24 hours a day, it would go out of business paying its employees for all the “inconvenient hours” they would work.

Sweden’s restrictive business hours will never improve. There’s no demand for it and even if there were, a massive overhaul of labor laws would be necessary to make it economically feasible for businesses.

Six Months Later

I honestly can’t believe I’ve already lived here half a year. Some days, when the culture shock is still intense, it feels like I landed last week.

You try to mentally prepare yourself for the culture shock in the weeks before the move. Amanda’s agency had their au pairs read multiple articles about it when she moved to California a few years ago, and I consulted a few sources myself this week in an attempt to ascertain which “phase” I’m in.

The adjustment phase, long after the honeymoon phase and anxiety-filled negotiation phase, usually begins sometime between six months and a year. In many ways, I’m already there. In the adjustment phase, per Wikipedia:

One grows accustomed to the new culture and develops routines. One knows what to expect in most situations and the host country no longer feels all that new. One becomes concerned with basic living again, and things become more "normal". One starts to develop problem-solving skills for dealing with the culture, and begins to accept the culture ways with a positive attitude. The culture begins to make sense, and negative reactions and responses to the culture are reduced.

I couldn’t write a more accurate paragraph to describe my feelings right now.

I’m starting to embrace routines I used to scoff at.

Like fika, a coffee break that is so much more than grabbing a cup of caffeine. Workplaces literally grind to a screeching halt for 30 minutes in the morning and again in the afternoon for this experience, which usually includes sweet baked goods.

Like taking a number at every bank, pharmacy and jeweler instead of standing in an organized line.



Like taking your shoes off every time you enter a residence, not to mention the absence of carpeted rooms in said homes. Hardwood floors are the norm.

Like visiting Systembolaget for alcohol on Friday evenings. Even watching “Let’s Dance” (Sweden’s version of “Dancing with the Stars”) on Friday nights with the rest of the TV-glued country.



I have a more positive attitude about other cultural difference I’ve had to adapt to and lifestyle changes I’ve made in the last few months, too.

My wardrobe is full of tighter-fitting clothes than I ever wore in the States.

I don’t get all worked up about shitty service in restaurants and stores because I recognize those employees have no incentive to help me, since they receive no gratuities or commission.

I smile when I see a pint of Ben and Jerry’s on “sale” for the “special” price of $7.80.



Gas isn’t going to get any cheaper if I curse about paying the equivalent of $8 per gallon, you know?



I’ve also learned to stop trying to say hello to people in passing, and to not let that bother me anymore. A vacationer might call Swedes cold for this, but I’ve learned better. They’re just reserved, and offering a friendly greeting to a stranger on the street is plain weird here.

It’s little things like those and I’m still getting used to new things all the time.

There’s still a lot of frustration about the language. I was set to start my fifth week of a government-funded Swedish program for immigrants when I got the offer to work these last two months in Stockholm, which ultimately derailed my language studies.

My comprehension has improved so much that Amanda often speaks Swedish to me at home, but I answer in English. I still can’t roll an ‘R’ to save my life, one of the reasons I gave up on Spanish in my sixth year of classes and a continuing problem here. There may be a lot of similarities between Swedish and English, but there are plenty of differences, too.

As I continue to freelance articles from home, I’m going to try the self-study method and see how quickly my Swedish improves. I have several resources, including texts from the Government-funded course and a local library.



While I no longer feel like a fish out of water every day, I still have moments. Sweden is an easy place to get comfortable, and I’ve come a long way in six months. I have a long way to go, and I’m so thankful for the family and friends we have here to help me through each challenge. It’s the best support system an expatriate could ask for.

I fly back to California next week for the first time since I moved. I probably haven’t lived away from the Golden State long enough to experience much reverse culture shock, but who knows what will surprise me when I go back?

'System' Failure?

It’s a lazy Saturday afternoon and you’re lounging on your couch. You get a call from a friend inviting you to a spur-of-the-moment dinner party. Great, you think. You didn’t have anything fun to do and you start looking forward to an evening of good food and great company.

Your friend phoned at 2:15, so you’ve got plenty of time to get ready. Except that you live in Sweden, and in a situation that would dictate you to bring a nice bottle of wine you’re probably going to show up at your friend’s house empty-handed. How rude.

See, for more than a half-century all alcohol in Sweden stronger than 3.5 percent has been sold only at restaurants and bars and through the government-run liquor monopoly called Systembolaget (“The System Company”).



In California, you can buy any alcohol you want in virtually any grocery store. You can buy it between 6 a.m. and 2 a.m. The beer is chilled in-store and is always cold when you buy it. Alcohol is inexpensive and can be even cheaper if you buy in larger quantities like 12-packs or cases.

Sweden couldn’t be much more restrictive without banning booze altogether.

The strongest beer sold in grocery stores is labeled Class II and called folköl, “people’s beer.” An even weaker Class I beer can be of maximum 2.25 percent strength and is called lättöl (“light beer”).

Class III beer, starköl ("strong beer"), is everything stronger than 3.5 percent and is only sold at Systembolaget. Wines and spirits, which are obviously all stronger than 3.5 percent, are only sold at The System.

Buying alcohol at Systembolaget is a much different experience than shopping for drinks in a store back home. No beer is refrigerated. All items are sold as individual cans or bottles and there is no discount for buying a case of beer. No brand can be favored over any other, so there are never sales or specials.

The hours are absurdly limited. Systembolaget locations are closed on Sundays and holidays. They’re only open from 10 a.m. to 2 p.m. on Saturdays and close at 6 p.m. on Fridays. The latest they’re open all week is 7 p.m. on Thursdays.



Alcohol is taxed on strength rather than price, with different tables corresponding to beer, wine and liquor. It’s all heavily taxed, though.

The cheapest can of beer (the same size as a 12-ounce can of Coors Light, for instance) costs between 9 and 10 Swedish kronor after tax. At the current exchange rate, that’s between $1.31 and $1.46 USD per can.

Hard liquor is ridiculously expensive. To buy a bottle of Jägermeister and a bottle of Bacardi Apple rum (which are also only 700 mL bottles rather than the 750 mL fifths sold in the States) would cost 494 SEK, or about $72 USD.





If you found both on sale at a grocery chain in California, it’d probably run about $20-$25 for the same two bottles.

The Swedish government maintains that keeping the monopoly in place has kept alcohol out of minors’ hands and discouraged binge drinking among adults. You must be at least 20 years old to buy alcohol at Systembolaget, which runs national television ads urging its patrons to imbibe responsibly.

As much as I bag on The System as an annoying, outdated concept, I have found one silver lining. Since the government imports wine from across Europe and the rest of the world in such large quantities, those savings are passed on to Swedes in spite of the high taxes.

The System set a new record in 2009 by selling more than 170 million liters of wine, and the four-liter boxes introduced in the late 1990s are largely to thank. The boxed wine isn’t the Franzia crap sold in the States, either. Quality stuff at a reasonable price.



Systembolaget causes a lot of frustration, especially for new expatriates. I don’t think it works the way the government would like everyone to believe it does, but there’s no alternative. You get used to it. You memorize the hours and you learn to plan ahead. You join the masses who tote the signature purple bags around town on Friday afternoons, when going to The System is literally a social event.





I’ve learned my lesson. Always stash away a couple extra bottles of wine when you’re in Sweden. You never know when you might need them.