I would first like to take this opportunity to say ‘sorry’ to Johan from Allente. I shouted at him last week as I bemoaned the cost of their Champions League coverage.
Poor Johan had called to sell to me at precisely the wrong time. I’d just spent a stupidly long time trying to contact a local builder who has been refusing to answer my calls - Johan, tragically, was collateral damage in the war between me and Skellefteå tradesmen.
The episode reminded me of our first year in Sweden. We were organizing the renovation of our house as well as sorting out personal numbers, bank accounts and tax stuff – the whole shebang of emigrating somewhere.
The tax authorities were great. They were supportive and adaptable. Our local bank was amazing too – once they even opened the branch two hours after closing time, so I could make a payment. Try doing that in the UK.
However, the local tradespeople: oh dear.
I know Swedish people are not so obsessed with their work. People spend more time with their families. It is an admirable approach, and one that was alien to this English immigrant who regularly worked 12-hour days in London.
Yet, local builders and plumbers not responding to calls or emails seemed more like rudeness than work-life balance.
Not for them the undignified rush for new customers.
I discovered early on in Skellefteå that many local artisans view the returning of phone calls as a display of desperation. One must never betray eagerness for work.
After all, if you have time to call someone back you can’t be that busy. And if you’re not busy that means you can’t be much good.
As for emails, I long ago waved the white flag on emailing tradespeople up here. It’s totally pointless. Indeed, I’ve found that emailing any organization is often an exercise in futility.
Trying to contact your SFI teacher by email to ask a question? Don’t be daft.
What about an email to a local company to inquire about the status of that project they roped you into? Yeah, good luck with that. You will never, ever hear from them again, unless you turn up, in person – cinnamon buns in hand – to ask them face-to-face.
But it’s the local tradespeople who really baffle me. I’m not contacting you to discuss the weather or last night’s ice hockey game. I’m not a bloody debt collector.
I WANT TO GIVE YOU MONEY.
Why does this happen? I suppose some of it is due to the Swedes’ aversion to confrontation. On a national level, this reluctance to argue openly and instead reach a compromise has been a huge strength - consensus politics will always outsmart conviction politics. After all, look at how far the UK has fallen since Margaret Thatcher ditched the consensus model.
But on a local, personal level, this means that if Swedes have bad news for you, they’d rather not say. Maybe the builder is simply too busy, and doesn’t have time. But he doesn't want to disappoint you, so doesn’t respond.
However, this doesn’t account for all the unanswered emails and phone calls.
I once bumped into our local plumber in Coop, a man I had been trying to track down for six months. When he saw me, he reminded me of a mouse cornered by one of our cats - he froze, his eyes desperately looking around for an escape route.
But I had him pinned in the dead end of the snacks aisle. I seized my chance and asked him when he could come round.
“Is 7am tomorrow ok?” he asked. I nearly fell over with shock.
Did he actually keep the appointment? Of course he did - at 7am on the dot.
His hesitancy to fit our new pipes was overcome by a much stronger Swedish impulse - to never be late for an appointment.
This is a column and the views are the author's own.