Norwegian Saga

Let me post some more of my observations about Oslo. For those that don’t know, I use public transport to get around. I’ve never had any experience with public transport but that in Kitchener, so some of this may not surprise you. Here in Oslo you buy your ticket for the bus/tram/sub somewhere other than with the operator of the vehicle. Though on buses and trams you can purchase a ticket from the driver. Anyway, this of course leads to people freeloading off the system. People simply jump on the sub without buying a ticket, there are no gates blocking people and no ticket checkers on the trains. What they do have is “billet kontrol.” The mafia that terrorizes public transport travelers.

I exaggerate of course. They’re friendly enough. They step onto a sub wagon and once the doors close they pull out their IDs and demand to see everyone’s ticket. That’s not a problem really. It’s the streetcar ticket control procedure that’s really interesting. Without anyone’s knowledge (obviously) the streetcar will just stop somewhere, conveniently enough, next to a bus. The thing is they park the bus in such a way that it’s really close to the streetcar and they line up the doors of the two vehicles so that anyone who tries to jump off the streetcar can only go into the bus. Not only that, there’s a security guy squeezed between the two to make sure no one runs (see photo). At this point the control folks jump on the streetcar and start asking for tickets. If you don’t have one, you get shuffled off onto the bus and I don’t know what they do to you there. I’ve been here almost two months now and it’s only in the last five days that I’ve seen these control people. Though I guess it common enough. A guy sitting next to me, knowing his fate, upon feeling the tram stop and catching sight of the red bus, got up without a batting an eyelash and hopped from the streetcar to the bus with practiced swiftness.

So I also have a cell phone now. I’ve had one for about a month though I forgot to mention it. The number is: 40 23 00 25. They don’t have long distance charges or area codes in Norway. It’s weird. Norwegian cell phone plans don’t charge for incoming calls, no matter what plan you have. And their pay-as-you-go cards don’t expire. So if you happen to have a pay as you go plan, (as I do) and don’t talk very often, you could potentially buy one refill card that would last for years. On the flip side, to be a on plan (plans here don’t require contracts they just give you a better deal than pay as you go) you have to have a personal number, which is the Norwegian equivalent of the Canadian SIN. Imagine giving a cell phone company your social insurance number…

Alas, I’ve also found a few new cheeses, which I plan to bring to Canada. One of them is an incredibly fattening (38% fat) cheese called Ridder. It’s unbelievably delicious and anyone who comes to visit me will have the pleasure of getting fed plenty of Ridder. http://www.igourmet.com/images/products/ridder.jpg

I plan on having some more photos up for you folks soon. Look for them in the next few days.

I’d like to take the opportunity, here on my soapbox, to explain exactly what I’m doing in Oslo, Norway. I’m sure most of you have a vague notion that I’m here for school but you may not know any more than that. Hopefully this post will elucidate everything nicely.

I’m at the very earliest stages of pursuing a master of philosophy (M.Phil) in Nordic Viking and Medieval Culture at the University of Oslo (they don’t have M.A.s here). I have to complete 60 credits to earn the degree. The majority of the work will be a thesis of 70-100 pages. (How I’m going to write so much I have no idea). The work is to be completed in 2 years (4 semesters). I get to take five courses over that time in addition to the thesis seminar. Two courses are taken in the first semester, which I’m currently doing, they are: Old Norse language and medieval manuscript studies.

My thesis topic concerns the Viking understanding of property and ownership. I will attempt to study these concepts through the law tracts and the sagas. Of course the thesis itself will be significantly smaller in scope, ownership is rather broad. I have to limit the work in a few ways such as selecting which sagas I’m going to use, which location I will focus on (probably Iceland), and which subjects specifically to deal with (inheritance, oath-giving, the corporal body, conventional owned goods, land, marital relations, etc.) and so on.

As for sustaining myself, I’ve managed to find work teaching/tutoring students who want to learn English, cool huh?

All that I need now is a residence permit (as I mentioned in an earlier post). Having filed it almost a month ago I’m expecting to hear back shortly. My passport only grants me the possibility of staying here without a residence permit for 90 days (until 8 November 2008). If, for some reason, they decline my application for a student residence permit I’m going to have to fly out to Poland for a weekend and come back in.

I’m returning to Canada on the 18th of December for Christmas. I’m not sure for how long, but as long as I can. I still don’t know when the term starts in January.

As for why I’m here not anywhere else. That’s easy, it’s all about a girl. Don’t mistake, I love history, but to change my life as radically as I did for school… just wouldn’t happen. Anyone who knows me knows I don’t like change, that I’m a creature of routine (and comfort). School just doesn’t meet the requirements for Tommy to change his ways, this girl on the other hand does.

So I will keep you posted regarding the residence permit and everything else. I’m sorry for the lack of photos folks, but my batteries ran out and I’m looking for a charger. As soon as I get one I get out again and get shooting.

I can hardly believe a week has gone by since my last post. I apologize. Time just seems to fly here.

The winters here in Oslo, though they may be slightly less intense than in Canada, are longer. You see Oslo is 16 degrees of latitude north of Toronto, that’s about 1770 kilometres. It’s far. If you need a map, my obsessive personality has created one for you (see map). Anyway the point is that winters here are rather long due to the northern position of Oslo, this also means long nights in the winter. From experience when I was here during Christmas last year (and this handy chart) I can tell you on the shortest days here the sun rises at about 9:00 and sets at 15:00, that’s not even six hours of sun. Compare that to Canada’s 7:48 and 16:44 times, giving you nearly nine hours of sun. Anyway so the winters here are long but perhaps not as cold due to the warm ocean currents that come from the south. To deal with this rather unappealing darkness the Norwegian populace has taken on an extreme love of candles. You see them everywhere you go, inside and outside. The outdoor cafes also have space heaters everywhere. I will have photos once people start using them. Also, and this I really love, every private bathroom has heating cables in the floors. The bathroom floors here are nice and warm which is great on those cold winter mornings. It’s also nice when you step out of the shower. Instead of stepping out onto a cold floor there are nice warm tiles to enjoy. It’s great.

How about a few photos then (photo gallery)? Today I only have a few. On the 30th of August I went, with the Solheim family again, to a town called Horten where lies one of Scandinavia’s greatest collection of burial mounds at the Borre Burial Mound Park. The place has been turned into a park and so these burial mounds are protected. The cemetery did not contain ordinary folk though, it was the resting place of kings. I say was because the remains have been since removed and much scientific work has been on them but I won’t bore you with the details. The mounds themselves are about five or six metres high and thirty or forty metres in diametre. The park has seven large mounds and number of smaller ones.

Vikings buried their dead in the ground or sometimes cremated them. Regardless of which method was used, and they changed over time and with the coming of Christianity, the dead were always placed in a ship or a boat of some sort. The poorer families of course couldn’t afford to use a real boat so they used “imaginary” boats made of rocks (see the photo - not taken by me). Of course the boat was to ferry the deceased to the “other side.”

I was lucky enough to get invited (by the Solheims) to the town of Hamar (map). The town boasts the Olympic speed skating rink from the ‘94 winter Olympics held in Lillehammer.

More interestingly, the town also has the ruins of the cathedral of the one of the first bishops of Norway. It was encased in a glass protective structure to great effect. The whole thing is part of a museum now which includes the bishops manor. Photos are available of course so have a look.

In the Viking age Hamar was a powerful centre and according to Wikipedia even Harald Hardrade had property here. Though I haven’t read about Hamar specifically I would guess the reasons for it’s placement/importance lie in the fact that the surrounding land is very fertile by Norwegian standards. Also the relatively southern positioning and the size and shape of the lake made it ideal for communication purposes. Hamar was also protected from the ocean, so those looking to raid couldn’t easily make their way into the town, as they did with Paris or London.

There’s a short video clip of a woman singing inside this revamped cathedral. On occasion there are concerts and I think even masses that take place at the ruins, so that’s the reason for the stage and chairs.

Let me now write a post that I think only I, and perhaps my father, will be interested in :).

Norway is a socialist country. The guiding principles here are about “the whole.” Because of this there is, what I consider, heavy taxation. 45% of your paycheque goes to the government, 25% of your purchased goods price goes to the government. Automobile owners also suffer, there’s a tax on fuel (not surprising), tires, the volume/size of your car, and every road in Oslo is a toll road. Though they’ve done away with the problem of stopping and paying at a booth by using a radio frequency transponder. Alcohol is taxed like sin… which it was until very recently (the Norwegian state church hates alcohol by the way). 35CAD for 350ml of Jack Daniel, compared to the Canadian price $15.85 for 375ml? It might be import costs, but that doesn’t explain the four dollars for a bottle of Heineken? Netherlands are closer to Norway than to Canada.

The picture is of a receipt for some goods I bought. Note the Moms % (moms = merverdiavgift, formerly meromsætningsafgift). Also, for those Polish among you, “takk” means “thanks” which always causes me problems when someone says “no thanks” as it’s “nei, takk.” Kvittering means receipt and kjop means buy. Cool huh?

What does it all amount to? I’m not entirely sure, I haven’t been here long enough. What I do know is that students have it better here than any country I’ve heard of, foreign students included. My tuition is free. On an absolute scale public transport for students is cheaper than in Canada , I paid less for a six month gym membership here than I would for a two month membership in Canada, shows/museums/galleries/tickets of any sort are cheaper for students often by large amounts. But students aren’t the only one’s who have it well.

For example, Norway agreed to send 25 billion kroner (crowns) to Africa this year. Don’t forget 25 billion crowns is equivalent to 5 billion Canadian dollars AND Norway’s population is four million. I leave the math to you.

There’s no doctor shortage here, in fact people have their choice doctors, as do students. I can change my GP on the internet if I want. The social net here is very strong and functioning well. Though the recent influx of immigrants, mostly from poor African nations, is now straining that net but any complaining is a risk due to political correctness.

The Norwegian populace is highly politicized in many ways. They don’t necessarily know what’s going on in their government, but everyone is very aware of everyone else’s political leanings. In fact political allegiance is one of the top ten descriptors you’ll hear when you inquire about a person. Also, the level of political correctness here makes me raise a glass to George Orwell. It’s illegal to criticize the monarchy or parliamentarians, which means news sources are very careful in how they present material. It’s very difficult to establish groups, political or otherwise, that go against the main grain of the national sentiment. They get hassled by the cops and so on.

I haven’t found what the minimum wage is, but I was told by a tax official that it’s uncommon to find any kind of work for less than 100NOK (20CAD) per hour. Remember though that things are on average twice the price of what they are in Canada. Which means that the huge tax rate really makes a dent in a household budget.

So how much is 50% of a paycheque worth?

Sorry about the content of this post folks, I realize not everyone is as interested as I in these kinds of things but this stuff has been on my mind and I have to get it out.

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.