Norway-5

I’ve been so content with my situation here that it wasn’t until yesterday, going over schedules with Helene, that I realized I have less than a month before I leave for Paris. It’s amazing how quickly attachments are formed and new habits are created; two months ago this was a foreign country, I was surrounded by strangers I couldn’t understand, and home was very far away. Now I have found my niche here and am feeling the heavy onset of nostalgia. In the last month I’ve made a priority of creating and taking advantage of any and all opportunities that could give me more perspective and understanding of the Norwegian culture.
I have officially mastered the public transportation system which has been a key factor in helping me to fill in a mental map of Bergen and its surrounding areas. I don’t have an awful sense of direction but I’ve had to walk the same streets I rode by on the bus and drove through with a ‘tour guide’ many times now to finally feel adept. The ultimate test came yesterday when I drove across town and back…alone. I’ve always felt entitled to call Seattle my city because of how well I know it, and I’m starting to feel the same way about Bergen. The more I learn the more I belong. The highlight of this feeling has been the few times I’ve popped out of a café or turned a corner in town and actually ran into someone I knew. This familiarity has given me a sense of ease as I discover the ins and outs of the city one street at a time.
Although my ‘families’ would like to give me a hard time about my language proficiency, to my credit learning Norwegian without a formal class has been exceedingly difficult, I have come leaps and bounds from where I was when I arrived. I get through every morning with the kids speaking only Norwegian and navigate most informal every-day situations, and, while I can’t necessarily participate, I do understand most of the broader conversations that happen around me. The kids tend to be my harshest critics. The first to correct me on pronunciation, they are constantly reminding their parents that I’m never going to learn if they continue to speak English with me. I play up the language barrier a bit just to keep the kids entertained; they think its hysterical that I still call their ski hats (lua) their swimming caps (bad hat) and they’ve found joy in correcting me EVERY time.
Food is another difference here that has finally become ‘normal’ to me. Traditionally breakfast, lunch, and the evening snack (after dinner) are all the same concept: slices of fresh bread (skive) with an array of toppings including jams, cheeses (jarlesberg, blue, brie, etc.), veggies, sliced meats, shrimp and chicken salads, and, to my dismay, kaviar from a tube and liver paste. Geitost (brown cheese) which is actually caramelized goat milk is my new favorite; on toasted bread with jam, mmm. The only meal that strays from the norm is dinner which holds a close resemblance to the dinners that I am used to although I have been treated to a few Norwegian specialties. Over the winter holiday I tried ‘the famous Grouse’ which is a gamey bird that Kristen hunts himself, it’s served with a gravy-like sauce that supposed to be the piece de resistance; lots of cream and nutmeg, and its very own, strategically hidden, bullet shards. I also tried rakfisk which is fermented trout that was served on flat bread with chopped leeks and sour cream, and fenalår, at Easter dinner, which is a slow-cured lamb’s leg. The common thread in of all these dishes was how extremely rich they were. At one meal I looked out at the huge expanse of the table (14 guests) and did not see one green dish; there was meat, gravy, caramelized mushrooms and onions, potato gratin, more meat…all fit for a Viking. Being in charge of grocery shopping, packing lunches, and preparing meals has been the best kind of cultural lesson, every day I have people depending on me to know how to shop and prepare for a proper meal and I haven’t had any complaints thus far (aside from Thale’s request that I carry her lunchbox instead of putting it in her backpack so that the toppings don’t come off her bread on the way to school…that’s pretty much where I draw the line).
I have also made travel a priority as well so I’ve managed a few day-trips and my big adventure was another ten day skiing extravaganza in Geilo. I spent most of the time trying to develop my insane cross-country skills although Janne, Helene, and I (we like to call ourselves the iron women) also decided to try snowboarding on one of the days. We had the most amazing weather; sunny during the day and snow at night, which motivated a hike to the peak of one of the mountains and many sledding/snow fort adventures in the evenings.
The trip was a good reminder to slow-down and it gave me time to think about what I had already achieved and what I felt was missing from my time in Norway. I had managed to find avenues in to most of the areas I was interested in except for volunteer work and the few people I had spoken to about it had all said the same thing. That because of the way the government is run the kind of volunteer work that puts you in touch with the community is hard to come by. I was determined to find something and as soon as I got back Helene put me in touch with a friend of a friend who is the editor of a local magazine that supports Bergen’s homeless. By Tuesday I had sent my resume to Megafon and by Wednesday they had hired me as a volunteer/intern. The paper not only gives homeless people the means to support themselves but it also gives them a voice that is unparalleled in this community. The vendors buy the magazine and sell it in town for twice the value, and at about $10 a magazine they are actually making a considerable profit. Thomas, the editor, was unsure of how much help I could be given the language barrier but the projects have just kept popping up. I’ve already interviewed the Executive Director of The International Network of Street Papers, chosen a feature article, written two articles, and spent a few hours volunteering in the store. This week I got to go out into the city with another intern to get answers to the question ‘what is the hardest part of being a youth today?’ We initiated conversations with some of the local ‘youths’ and took pictures of them holding their opinions on giant pieces of poster board. It was so fun to get out and interact with the community in that way, and to see how passionate some of these kids were about this topic. Not only has it been refreshing to be doing work that pushes me, that I’m excited about doing, but it has also been really interesting to see what poverty and homelessness look like here in contrast to the poverty I’ve seen at home.
This internship and my four other jobs are still keeping me pretty busy during the week but I also have more than enough free time. I’ve finished a few books that I’ve been trying to finish for years, taken more Norwegian lessons, done some hiking, and still spend a lot of time exploring the city. I also made a new friend, Agnete, who’s taken me to work out at a real gym and given me another perspective on the grand city-tour.
This weekend Helene is running a marathon in Paris and most of the neighbors are away so Nicholas and I have had some serious bonding time. I don’t think I’ve ever had to be so creative with entertainment, because he’s up at 6:45a and he only likes to spend about 15 minutes on each activity that means… a lot of activities. We have colored, played every board game in the house (his way, of course), shot a toy superman off of a hill a million+ times, played footbal (which I think is Norwegian for ‘kick the ball as far as you can and watch Solveig run for it…while laughing hysterically’), baked cupcakes, beat Dora the Explorer at her own exploration, and made a few apple juice non-tini’s Nicholas is quite the mixologist. He’s kind of a quiet little boy, it takes him a while to warm up to strangers and he’s usually the most outspoken when Helene is around, and getting him to sleep when she isn’t around has meant a lot of rocking and back rubs. All of this bonding paid off when I went to put him to sleep tonight and he skipped to his room, jumped in bed, smiled as he said goodnight, and fell quietly asleep. He’s hard not to fall in love with.
Its been surprisingly rewarding to be learning so much in what feels like such a short time. A few weeks ago, having newly discovered Skype, I was finally able to check in with my mom and I spent two hours telling her all about what I was doing and all the things I was learning. It wasn’t until this conversation that I fully understood the importance of what I’m doing here. Norway holds so much of who I am; my mother, my family, my name, our history, its almost been like walking through an art gallery with a blind fold on, hearing all the oohs and ahhs but never getting to see it for yourself. My mom and I talked about the house that she grew up in, the town where our family’s country house is, our favorite foods, places in town, we even spoke a little Norwegian and I hung up feeling a sense of relief like I had settled something that had been bothering me for years. Maureen O’Hara said it best when she said “my heritage has been my grounding, and it has brought me peace.”