Norwegian Saga

A Birthday Party

Let me tell you about the birthday party I went to. It was on the same day as my residence permit application submission (23 August). It was the birthday party of Anne Marit’s aunt. She had turned seventy sometime a few months ago but for some complicated reason was celebrating her birthday now. It took place at a church hall where alcohol was forbidden. This is one of the interesting facts about Norway, the people here, or at least the society has a very puritanical approach to alcohol. Things such as alcohol sale times are strictly monitored (can’t sell alcohol after 20:00, can’t sell alcohol on the day before a holiday after 13:00 etc.). Anyway, I ended up drinking “alkohol-fritt” beer.

The evening was very enjoyable for me despite the strong feeling that I was an outsider (which I was). I wasn’t made to feel so by the people though. In fact, after the initial amazement that Canadians eat at a table with forks and knives as Norwegians do (I jest of course), they were very nice to me and quite conversational. Everyone made and effort and attempted to include me in discussions and so on. No, I didn’t feel out of place because of the language but because of the customs. This birthday party had a birthday song, but it wasn’t a drunken shanty as I’m used to, it was a melodic and reserved tune.

They had speeches about and for the guest of honour. I couldn’t quite say what the speeches were about, because I don’t speak Norwegian, but the lady’s son, sister-in-law, brother (Anne Marit’s father), and husband all stood up and gave them. After dinner, where I was once again (first time was Christmas ‘08) reminded of the Norwegian propensity toward cold food including scrambled eggs, there were some games and such.

The point is, I felt out of place because of the difference in customs. I was told that birthdays and birthday customs such as I witnessed on that day were passing into history as younger people don’t do such things anymore. It was strange to me, almost as though I’d been brought back into the past in some ways. Historical reading always illuminates how people used to take pleasure and comfort from each others company. How celebrations such as birthdays were spent talking and singing. The woman’s age, seventy, had plenty to do with it I’m sure, they did things differently when she was younger and she clings to that. It was very enlightening in any case.

The British Invasion- Cistercian Style

I’m not sure if you folks had noticed but there’s a new button along the top right (or there should be). It should take you to the photo gallery.

On the 24th of August Anne Marit and I went to the island of Hovedøya (Hovedøya; hoved = main, øya = island).

You wouldn’t believe it. My transit pass, the one that works for buses, trams, and subways is also valid for the ferry system. Oslo fjord has a number of islands (see the map) and there are a few ferries that run back and forth. I’ve included a photo of the map and schedule for the ferry we took, though I can’t remember if it was the 92 or 93. Anyway we hopped on after a fifteen minute wait and then got off on the island of Hovedøya.

The island is small but special in many ways, it’s ties to Oslo city are many. It has the ruins of a 13th century Cistercian cloister/monastery (photos). Christianity had reached the Norway c.1000 and “kirkes” were built since that time (no, I’m not sure if that’s the proper pluralization of kirke). So the island had an existing church already when monks arrived in the 1200s from England. They expanded the small church structure to make it a full monastery.

The monks brought with them a variety of plant species that were foreign to Norway. Those plant species, also in some of the photos, “escaped” the confines of the monastery and now grow all over the island, but nowhere else in Norway. At least nowhere that anyone is aware. The island is a microbiome in other words of foreign flowers and plants.

The island also boasts at least two historic ammunition depots (maybe more) from a much later time- 1800s I believe. They were built on the island in an effort to keep the explosive stuff away from the city proper, for safety I guess. The island is in the middle of the fjord and is very visible to anyone sailing into Oslo. For this very reason, the depots were painted white, as a warning to any incomers that Oslo was well supplied with ammunition.

Anne Marit and I also came across some Norwegian geese, so if you see the photos… those aren’t ducks. What the difference is, I have no idea but there you have it.

The monastery was demolished unfortunately, the stones were then used to build Akershus Fortress, the structure to the right in the photo. I’m going to go spend an afternoon there so there will be more photos coming. The brown building, in case you’re curious is is Oslo’s city hall. The bells ring every fifteen minutes and can be heard for quite a distance.

I apologize for my unusually lengthy silence. There’s lots to tell. My constant outings to Anne’s parent’s home for dinner have kept me from posting though. Not that I’m complaining, on the contrary, I don’t know how to properly show my gratitude. I’ve been fed dinners at their home just about daily and I’m beginning to feel as though I should somehow say thank you with more than just words.

The problem with paper

Anyway, a few days ago I was in the university bookstore picking up a copy of “A New Introduction to Old Norse.” If you can’t guess that’s the textbook we’re using in my Old Norse class. Walking the aisles it occurred to me that I didn’t have a single piece of paper to write on. I hadn’t taken any with me from Canada. I had no paper and no binders. For a student these are rather important. I set about the store looking for some. And you wouldn’t believe it but every single binder I found had some bizarre two-ringed configuration. There were only two rings, 1/4th and 3/4ths of the way down the spine. I couldn’t figure it out. I assumed these binders were for some archival purposes. For the kind of papers one files knowing they’re not going be looked at again until some microhistorian comes along and digs them up. I decided I would wait on the binder and talk to Anne in the hopes she’d tell me where I could buy real binders, of the three-ringed variety.

I moved onto searching for paper. I could use paper without a binder after all. No dice! They don’t seem to sell paper alone, it looks as though it always comes in some form of spiraled booklet, I hate spiral bound books, they always hurt my wrist. Not only that, once again I came upon the hole problem, they didn’t seem to sell regular three-holed paper either, every page in every spiral book I picked up had four holes in it. I discovered that Norway operates on a four-holed system. The paper here is also a different size, it’s not 8.5″ x 11″ as is common in North America, I’m told it’s the A4 paper size, it’s taller but narrower, and apparently more international. The issue ended when I spoke with Anne Marit asking her where the normal three-holed binders were and she replied: “How would you ever use a four-holed punch with a three-holed binder?”

Now I’ve got paper and a four-ringed binder in which to put it (I did manage to find a four-ringed binder, those two-ringed ones just seem ridiculous to me).

Government offices- every foreigner’s plight

Saturday (23rd) morning I had to attend the police station in downtown Oslo to submit my application for a student residence permit. They are clever enough in Norway to set aside one day at the start of the semester to help foreign students get residence permits, so the various government agencies (immigration, folkregistry etc.) and help services are all in one location at the police station. I left the house to be at the station about ten minutes early. As I rounded the corner I was feeling good, thinking the entire affair wouldn’t last longer than half an hour, I was only dropping off an application you see. However, upon rounding that corner I found myself looking at a hoard of people spilling out onto the street and rounding the corner of the block. With nothing for it, I got to the back of the line. Almost all services in Norway operate on the “take a number” system. It took me ten minutes just to get a number and then two more hours to talk to someone just so I could drop off the application. I was still fortunate though, I had number 219, I saw people with 450. The immigration officer was kind enough to tell me that the application looked fine. I should know in about three weeks time whether I’m getting deported back to Canada or not.

I’ve got lots more to tell you. Also for next time, photos from Hovedøya.

Today was to be my first lecture. However, it was canceled. No reason was given. It turns out that myself and two others didn’t bother to check the internet posting informing the students of the cancellation. The plus side: I met two people and learned that one of them is a Polish student from the University of Krakow in Poland spending six months here while doing his Ph.D. in Viking studies. See, I’m not the only one.

Aside from that, which wasn’t all bad because I had to buy a membership at the athletic club, more on that later, the introduction to Norwegian course I’m enrolled in has a schedule conflict with my required Old Norse course. I’ve emailed the department asking for direction on what to do about it. Well see what they say.

I’ve also decided that I’m going to do as I said I might; get rid of the “Current issues in medieval studies with focus on history 1 course” in favour of “Old Norse Palaeography, Codicology and Medieval Manuscript Culture.” Manuscript studies… c’mon can’t get cooler than that. Also, my desired thesis topic probably requires that I know manuscripts more than current scholarship. I’m planning to do work in Viking legal studies and a working knowledge of manuscripts would probably help. I’m also told that next year the University of Oslo is expecting to have a scholar (visiting or permanent, I’m not sure) who specializes in Old Norse legal manuscripts. When I heard that I didn’t want to pass up the chance.

I’ve also purchased a membership to the local gym/athletic club. 700NOK (137CAD) for six months. They’ve got tennis courts, a huge indoor gym, swimming pool, weight gym, etc etc. Apparently that 40% income tax and 25% sales tax on goods goes somewhere because students here get quite a deal. Since my classes all start around noon I’m planning on using the pool and weight gym before I start my day. The centre is almost exactly halfway between my place and the school (see map) so I don’t think it’ll be too difficult to convince myself to go. I’m also planning on playing lots of tennis before the snow comes.

That’s today’s update then, keep tuning in though, there’ll be lots to come, and as many photos as I can manage, I know I have none in this post but I do have a special treat. I was goofing off and shot a vid during a hike at Sognsvann. Have you ever heard a French-Polish-Canadian?. (vid)

She said it went until past 01:00

A few nights ago I had a fun (read expensive) experience. I’m a foreigner in a foreign land, we all know that. In Norway many things are great and wonderful, the water is clear, the sky is blue, the women are beautiful… but the trams… are a little too much for my Canadian mind.

I’d spent the evening with Anne’s family, as I often do, they feed me and let me spend time with them. The evening of 15th was like any other, I had a dinner of fishballs (yeah, they have more ways of making fish than you can imagine) with mashed potatoes and peas and carrots. After dinner we chatted as usual. The evening wore on, as evenings do, and I decided it was time to go. It was probably around 23:30. I hurried out to the streetcar, a bit of a walk from Anne’s home, just in time to see it pull out of the stop.

“No problem, I can catch the next one.” I told myself.

I looked at the timetable and there was another tram due in ten minutes at 23:59, though it would be the 19, I needed the 18. The 19 came and went without me on it, I decided to wait for the next 18 which was to arrive at nine minutes past the hour. So I waited and waited and then realized no tram was coming. The pretty electric sign that tells riders the time to the next tram blinked out. I checked the timetable again, I had made no mistakes, nine minutes past the hour the 18 was due. So I looked at my cellphone to check the time and that’s when I noticed something else. 23:49 was the last run of the 18 (the one I saw roll by), my cellphone told me it was 00:10. I hadn’t been looking at the hours, just the minutes.

Thankfully and no doubt not by coincidence there was a taxi waiting right beside the tram stop. I called Anne to see if she’d give me a drive home but I got no answer because I misdialed her number. So I decided to take the taxi. It cost me a lot of money, 392NOK, or about 74CAD. The kicker was that I could have taken the 19 downtown and got a taxi from there and probably paid about half. Anyway, it was good times. The one plus was that unlike every other Norwegian, the taxi drove nice and fast and very much like I drive, it kind of reminded me of home on the 401.

Sweden

The next day (16 August) I went to Sweden with Anne’s family. They make a supply run to the Swedish side every so often as goods are almost half price there making it a smart economic decision for Norwegians. Not surprisingly almost every car in the store lot was Norwegian.

The drive was a little over an hour long, made so by the nature of the roads. Driving here is very different from driving in Canada. The joys of straight roads are almost unknown in Scandinavia. Therefore, drivers are limited to seventy or eighty kilometres per hour. Which is why the drive to Töcksfors, while being only one-hundred kilometres, took longer.

I stocked up on stuff there too. Being as inexperienced as I am I went to use my credit card to find it didn’t work when I swiped it. I tried three different cards but no dice, I couldn’t pay for my groceries. Sufficiently embarrassed, I let Anne’s dad bail me out and pay for my food. It wasn’t until a little later when we inspected the swipe terminals we noticed the special slot for the new chip cards. I tried to swipe my chip cards the old fashioned way which was not what you’re supposed to do I guess. You insert the card into the bottom of the terminal then enter your pin. Now I know better. I haven’t yet paid fully for the groceries by the way, I still owe two hundred Swedish crowns.

The photos below are the official border signs. They say “National border” then the name of the country, each of course in it’s own language.

People who haven’t traveled, not necessarily extensively but at least a little, don’t always realize the staggering differences in geography the world has to offer. Some places are fertile and people-friendly, such as the Canadian prairie provinces and much of southern Ontario. Other places are much less so for various reasons, deserts, snowy tundra, and mountains come to mind. Norway is interesting in this respect. It seems people-friendly on the outside. With some grass here and there, plenty of large forests, and water all over the place. But don’t be fooled, it’s all rock! That’s right, rock “intrudes” everywhere, into driveways, onto roads, back gardens and so on. Of course this is what gives Norway it’s majestic beauty, it’s greatness of landscape. It does however, make it particularly interesting to watch homes being built. Builders don’t really dig to lay a foundation they… drill? Blast? I’m not quite sure what they do to clear the rock actually, but they clear rock as opposed to dirt. Note in the photo the slope of the rock hill. I guess the homeowner can feel secure in the building’s foundation. (I apologize for the poor photo quality, cellphone cameras are not known for their superb optics or photosensors for a reason.)

Another interesting factoid about Norway: the bomb shelters. To be honest when I discovered them I didn’t know what they were, as I hadn’t asked a native Norwegian nor did I know what “tilfluktsrom” meant. But it’s hard to imagine they could be anything else. Many buildings have them and they’re always in the basement, they’re always marked with the same yellow label, they always have more than one locking mechanism, and they always close off a room. Oh and the most telling feature; these doors are about 40cm thick and made of solid steel. The first time I went through one was to go to a bathroom. I was a little unsettled by the fact that the hallway to the bathrooms had a door to it that would be so large. The male and female bathroom were down the hall, they were regular public bathrooms with attached locker rooms, so fairly large in total volume. A large number of people could certainly have found shelter there. Only later did I clue in to the fact that the door sealed the area, it was the only way in or out. Though I’m told there are other small exits in case the main one gets blocked by debris. Some of these doors I found were closed and some were open to functional areas, like bathrooms and all seemed to be older rather than newer. However, the feeling that these may have been required at one point in time, or may be required in the future. was unsettling and even a little frightening. It makes the peace that Canada enjoys that much more precious.

I’ve successfully registered for courses on the web, all on my own, which is no small feat considering half of the explanations and pages are in Norwegian.

Here’s the lowdown:

NFI4120 - Old Norse - language and texts
MAS4010 - Dissertation Seminar
MAS4540 - Current issues in medieval studies with focus on history 1
NORINT0110 - Norwegian for international students, level 1

That’s what I will be studying and learning until December. I may yet switch the current issues course for “NFI4111 - Old Norse Palaeography, Codicology and Medieval Manuscript.” The prof teaching it is going on sabbatical after this autumn and won’t be back before I leave Norway in 2010. The current issues course will probably be available every semester so I can take it any time. By the way, current issues is about issues that are currently being discussed in the modern scholarship regarding medieval Europe, it is not a course about today’s current events.

Onward then. Walking along the road a few days ago to get to the streetcar (that’s how I roll here, no car for me) I noticed something that I always knew but never focused on- a lack of overhead power cables and poles supporting them. Europe has buried power/TV/phone lines, at least in some countries, Norway being one of them. In Canada that’s not the case, along almost every road there are some sort of cables hanging overhead. When I noticed the absence of cables here, and posts, it put into sharp focus the strange feeling I’d been having of openness. The plethora of posts and cables I’m used to just isn’t to be found here in Norway. So any city viewscape one looks at is just buildings, roads, and people. It gave me a strange feeling, like something was missing, which it is. It’s difficult to describe so I won’t try to say more but I will get some photos for you.

A point to Norway for tucking away their cables out of view but parking spaces on the other hand are a mess. They are definitely not as driver-friendly as in Canada. They’re small, almost always require payment no matter where you go, and are oddly placed. By oddly placed, I mean that the usual and comfortable grid pattern North Americans are accustomed to doesn’t really exist here. There’s parking on the side of the road, yes, of course. But when you move off the road to a lot of some sort, say by a store or by an apartment building it’s a whole new can of worms. Sure the spaces may be placed right up against the building, seemingly making a nice straight row of cars but the road that passes around them is either angled, full of bikes or garbage cans, or simply a pedestrian walkway. The whole problem is that real estate is at a premium here in Oslo. So everything is squeezed in together nice and tight, bikes, garbage cans, cars and people. To add to that the parking spaces are quite small as well. I can imagine if you’re driving anything other than a scooter or motorcycle or a Buddy car (an electric car from Norway that’s smaller than the Smart) you’re going to have difficulty parking here. Unless you’re European I guess, because they seem to do it just fine. For the record, I’m entirely for public transport and decreased use of automobiles.

The title is a little misleading (purposefully so of course).

Today was my first day of school, not lectures but meetings and preparations. I guess they call it “orientation.” I had a chance to meet my “buddy” group. Buddy groups are a program that’s supposed to make new students more comfortable with their new surroundings. It was fun and worthwhile. My group has people from: Ireland, Scotland, Germany, USA, Ghana, Japan, China, Sri Lanka, Russia, and Kyrgyzstan. My hope is that I get to meet them again and actually talk to them more as the entire thing, from gathering to my leaving a little early (I skipped the university bureaucrat speeches) was about an hour. There’s a Buddy group BBQ tomorrow though, which I may attend depending on what else I’m doing. More orientation stuff going on you see.

After the buddy group meeting I went to the university, Blindern campus (the “d” is silent as it is in many words and almost always when it’s on the end of a word) where I met with the others in the program. Present were faculty, staff, and the three other new students in the program. That’s right the Nordic Viking and Medieval Culture master’s program has an intake of just four students this year, two of which are Norwegian. The program in total has thirty students. It’s a small little thing but that just means there’ll be a good student/professor ratio, which is a plus, those that have been to university recently know that.

The structure of the program is like so: four terms, two per year, each term requires the completion of thirty credits. Each year has only one elective course. To start I have to take a dissertation seminar and “Old Norse - language and texts”, and one elective. Yeah, I have to learn Old Norse, or enough of it to get by reading a manuscript if I have a dictionary and grammar guide nearby. Here’s to hoping they have great teachers. You can read about it all here if you’re interested.

On to exciting travel news. With Anne Marit’s help I’ve discovered a semi-shortcut to school (Googlemap here). I’m going to be walking, or if I can get my folks to send me a bike, biking to school. Bikes are much too expensive here for me to even hope of buying one. However, I’m told there’s a police auction twice a year which I’m planning to look into. Hurray for criminals! So if I can get a bike great, if not then it’s a 1.6km walk to school.

A little bit describing my roomies. I live with three roommates. We share the bathroom and kitchen/common room. They’re all Norwegians which is good, too many cultures mixing could be a bad thing. There are two guys and one female. One of the guys studies medicine and the other studies computer science (I think) and the girl studies social sciences. I won’t put names to these people in case they don’t want to be named (that’s why it’s all guy this and guy that, not because of a poor vocab).

Two other notes: they have orange juice that always makes me do a double take when I buy it (pic); and they have slugs (which they call snails) that are 10cm long and about 1cm wide, get a ruler see for yourself how huge that is (pic). The slugs are a non-native species that are apparently destroying the local ecosystem. They’re all over the place, and did I mention they’re big?

I arrived in Norway on the 7th of August 2008 with more jumbled thoughts than I can think to write, of course that won’t stop me from trying.

It wasn’t easy leaving my family and friends. In fact, I still tear up when I think about them. I left a life in Canada that had people in it I love. Evening bonfires with my family and friends, I even went golfing for the first time in my life with my boss which was incredibly fun, I tried Indian roti (a type of bread) and there are many things which I miss already. However, I will be back for Christmas and then probably the summer after that.

I got to Norway and was picked up by my lady friend, Anne Marit, at the airport. The flights had been quite pleasant and not overly long either. I suppose after working 12 hour shifts one learns well how to sit and bear a slow passage of time, a seven and a half hour flight was easy by comparison.

From the airport it was straight to the student housing administration to get the keys for my student room. We found the place easily. I live in the “Sogn studentby” (Sogn student residence). I was expecting a dirty closet with a bed in it for a room but what I got was a nice clean, large room with a high ceiling and a big window. There’s a desk and bed that are both small for my liking but beggars can’t be choosers I suppose (pic). The common area (pic), that contains the kitchen, is clean and cozily furnished. The living arrangements seem nice enough. My only complaint, which I mention to everyone who asks, is the toilet. You see someone stumbled upon a great idea to separate the toilet from the shower room, essentially splitting the bathroom in two. This way the morning line up (which doesn’t actually exist because everyone wakes up at different times) is divided and everyone can do their bathroom business sooner. Well, the toilet was walled off and a small sink was put in. The problem is that the sink is almost on top of the toilet and it’s very difficult to do anything in there (pic). Just look at the photo and you’ll see what I mean.

The food in most places is fantastic but the weather kind of sucks. Seems I just missed a heatwave in this nation and caught on in time for a coolwave. It’s about 12-15°C with occasional rain. It’s also more expensive than I’d imagined. I thought I had a handle on some of the prices when I believed everything was roughly twice the price of what it is in Canada. I was wrong with some things, like bus fare, which for a single ride, if paid in cash, is about $7CAD.

I will write more, at the moment I’m going to focus on my breakfast.

I hope everyone is well. I miss you all.