Aug 31 2008
Of monks and fortresses
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.