Christmas in Sarpsborg

A few days ago I returned from spending the holidays in Sarpsborg with Lene's parents.  I'd met Lene's parents on a couple of occasions and they are both very warm, generous people who, despite not speaking much English, do their best to make me feel welcome.  Sarpsborg is about an hour by train from Oslo and at just over 50,000 people, manages to crack the top 10 for Norway's largest cities.  We were met at the station by Lene's parents and for the next few days I would be immersed in Norwegian holiday tradition.

Playing guitar in front of the Christmas tree.

In Norway, everything happens on Christmas eve.  A traditional dinner is followed by everyone exchanging gifts around the tree.  The homes aren't decorated quite as dramatically as they are in the States; you won't see thousands of lights draped over the houses here. The decorations are simple but warm and it is the interior of homes that reflect the season.  In Lene's home, red and white candles line mantles and windowsills and a fire warms the living room.  Stuffed Santa Claus', made by Lene's mother, recline on sofas or near the Christmas tree and there are bowls of chocolates and clementines pulling double duty as both decorations and treats.

Santa likes to jam sometimes too.

Our Christmas eve dinner was as delicious and fattening as any I've had at home.  Ribs, roast pork, potatoes, sausages, saurkraut and brussel sprouts, all covered in gravy and lingonberries.  We washed it down with some beers from the local brewery and finished everything off with a dessert called rice cream.  I'm still not clear on exactly how it's made but it tastes like a thicker version of whipped cream which we then mixed with a fruit sauce.  After dinner we exchanged gifts and watched Christmas movies until we were ready to call it a night.

On Christmas day Lene's parents let us use the car which we took across the border to Sweden.  Things in Sweden are much cheaper than in Norway, particularly cigarettes and alcohol which carry a heavy tax here.  There is actually a shopping mall just over the border which is frequented solely by Norwegians since it is closer to cities in Norway than in Sweden.  Being Christmas day, everything was closed; the only reason   I was hoping to get a stamp in my passport but I shouldn't have bothered bringing it; there was no one at the border to check people going through, let alone stamp passports.  I settled for a picture on the bridge crossing the border and we headed back to Sarpsborg soon after.

One of the bridges to Sweden.  Sweden is on the left.

We returned to Oslo on the 26th but before leaving we were able to do that most quintessential of scandinavian sports, cross-country skiing.  Norwegians joke that they are born with skis on their feet and so it was fairly remarkable that I hadn't been skiing yet during my time here.  Junior year of high-school was my most recent experience with cross-country skiing where I briefly competed for our ski team.  There have been few things in life that I've shown less aptitude for than cross-country ski racing so I can't say I was thrilled about reliving those memories.  I borrowed skis and boots from one of Lene's friends and off we went to a nearby trail system.  The skiing is much more enjoyable when you aren't killing yourself to race someone else and we had a great time.  It felt good to be outside and it was fun to see all the families with even the young kids skiing.  The trails we went to were even lined with light poles so that people can ski at any time of day (especially important with a 3:15pm sunset).

Striking a pose in my new Christmas sweater.

The holidays were great but we were definitely ready to get back to Oslo by the time the weekend was over. Lene had had enough family time and I'm sure she was tired of translating everything whenever someone wanted to ask me a question.  Many people here over 40 or 50 years old don't speak much English as it was optional when they went to school.  By contrast, the generation after them is essentially fluent in English having learned from a very young age.  English is also far more common in Oslo and you will often over-hear people speaking English in the streets.  Because of this I was definitely ready to leave Sarpsborg so I could go back to communicating normally.

I hope everyone else had a wonderful holiday and has a fantastic New Year!

Roommates

The two bedroom apartment that I'm staying in is pretty great.  The location is convenient, the rent is cheap, and the apartment itself is nice.  Large windows cover the south facing side of the apartment and let it grab every bit of sun (especially nice during these short winter days).  The living space is comfortable and cozy and the bathroom is nice as well, with a fantastic shower. The bathroom floor, to spare bare feet on cold mornings, has heated tiles controlled by a thermostat.  It is evidently a common innovation in Norway, but coming from the much warmer D.C. it seems like a luxury.

I'm staying in the larger of the two bedrooms with Lene, and Sandra has the other room.  Sandra is also a hairdresser and works with Lene at the same salon.  Sandra is very into fitness and body-building, recently finishing her first competition.  I have trouble getting my head around the whole body-building thing.  I can understand the desire to be in shape and fit, but this takes it to another level.  Specialized diets, constantly watching your caloric intake, endless amounts of supplements and of course the constant weight-lifting and training is enough to drive someone crazy.  I was making black beans and rice for dinner the other day, something I think of as being fairly healthy, and I offered some to Sandra who declined because beans have too many calories for her diet.  This is during the off-season.  In the weeks and months leading up to a competition, the diets become more extreme as they competitors practically starve themselves in preparation.  To gain a last-minute edge, the competitors make sure they are dehydrated so that their muscles have an extra-degree of definition for the judges.  

Crazy amounts of supplements for protein shakes and things.

Sandra's boyfriend, Carl-Eric, also a body-builder, has recently moved into the apartment and this has doubled the amount of supplements here which now take up several shelves.  There is also a myriad of plastic water-bottles for protein shakes and Tupperware containers for planned meals so that portions can be measured exactly.  These meals are generally cooked at one time so that several days worth of prepared food will be stacked up in the fridge, ready to be eaten.  Both Carl-Erik and Sandra will admit that their passion is a little masochistic but they say the rewards are worth it, claiming body building to be the hardest, worst, most difficult and best thing they have ever done.

Even more supplements in pill form to take with their meals.

It is a radically different lifestyle and takes incredible amounts of dedication.  You won't see me heading down that path (I've hardly ever set foot in a gym), but it is hard not to respect what they do.  

Cold and Dark

The weather here in Oslo has improved over the last few days and has been hovering around the freezing point.  It feels almost warm out after the last few weeks where the temperature was usually between negative 15 and 20 degrees Celsius (about 0 - 10 degrees Fahrenheit).  It has been so cold here that it broke several weather records and this past November was the coldest since 1919.

On top of the cold, there is the dark.  With the winter solstice right around the corner, days are about as short as they get.  Sunrise is sometime around 9:15am and sunset is just after 3pm.  The sun doesn't get too far above the horizon anymore and most of the city is bathed in shadow regardless of the time.  If this all sounds sort of miserable, well, it kind of is. However, only through the act of describing the weather am I realizing how awful it must sound.  You get used to it.

 It is amazing what a body can adjust to and how the mind readjusts your baseline for what's normal.  As mentioned earlier, now that the temperature is close to freezing it actually feels nice out.  You don't even need long underwear!  During the few hours of sun in the afternoon it feels good to go for a walk and, covered in a light coating of fresh snow, the city is beautiful.  The pedestrian mall is particularly pretty since many of the buildings have been strewn with decorations for the holidays.  At night the Christmas lights from the buildings reflect off the snow and the city feels a little like a winter wonderland.    

However if all else fails and trying to look on the bright side of things doesn't work you can always look North and feel sorry for the poor saps up where it's even colder and darker.

The Bachata Weekender

I've been in Oslo about 7 weeks now and am definitely learning my way around the city. Since I don't have a job here I've had to get a little creative to find things to do during the days while Lene is working. Usually I occupy myself by reading, playing the guitar and going for walks around the city. Sometimes the parents of the 10month old boy I nanny need some help, but since the mother hasn't had to go back to work yet they don't need me that often. I've also been working at a dance studio in exchange for salsa, merengue and bachata lessons. You can check out their website here.

Lene and I were walking around Oslo one night when we saw a sign outside a dance studio saying they were having free lessons that week; we went to a salsa lesson and a cha-cha lesson and I ended up speaking with the owners about working at the studio in exchange for classes. They are very nice and flexible people and were happy to make a deal. Usually I go a couple hours before classes and open up the studio, making sure everything is clean before people arrive. During the parties I help serve drinks and generally man the reception. In exchange I've been taking around 10-12 hours of lessons a week, focusing mostly on salsa but also a taking a little merengue and bachata as well. As each of these dances has a Latin-American origin, learning one helps you build on the others. The footwork is a little different but the body movements and turns are very similar.

Dancing at one of the parties. This was the Salsa room, since it was a Bachata weekend the other room was much more crowded:

I've mentioned all of this to get to the main topic of the post, The Bachata Weekender that we just had at the studio. Guest artists from Spain were flown in to teach intensive workshops for the weekend. The workshops were held during the day and parties were held at night so people could socialize a little more and practice what they'd learned during the classes.

Before this weekend course I had only taken three one hour classes of Bachata whereas some of the other students had been dancing it for years. Needless to say I was in a little over my head but it was still had a great time. Since all the moves and routines were new to everyone I was able to keep up to some extent, but the people with more experience picked things up much faster. In all, we had over 12 hours of classes the first of which started on Friday. Each day became a more difficult to the point where we were doing advanced acrobatic Bachata on Sunday. This involved doing various kinds of lifts and dips which were surprisingly easy if you used the correct technique and nearly impossible if you didn't. I'm hoping muscle memory will help out some with the learning since I can hardly remember the dozens of steps and routines we practiced.

Reiza, the owner, talking to us before the show on Saturday:

There were always breaks between the workshops and the parties later that night so people could go home, grab some dinner and dress up a little. Even with these breaks though, we we rushing around trying to get the studio cleaned up again for the night. It's amazing how much dust and dirt a group of people can bring in with them in such a short time. We also had to make sure all the dishes were clean, candles were lit, the furniture rearranged properly and the lights and music were ready to go.

The instructors, Gabryél and Begoña were great even if they seemed a little over the top sometimes (I suppose that's pretty common in the dance profession). Their instruction was very clear, they made things fun and they gave you plenty of help if you were struggling. One of my favorite steps that we did was called the rueda. In it, all of the couples collected in a loose circle around the room. Gabryél taught us various steps and their names which he would shout for us to perform. This would have dancing in unison (as long as we could remember the names to the steps) and moving around in a big circle. Changing partners generally caused the most chaos as you scrambled to get to someone else and stay in time with the music. Since there was one more guy than there were girls it ended up being a little like musical chairs. By the end of the weekend I was exhausted but had a fantastic time. These dances take years to learn properly and I have much more respect after trying my hand (feet?) at them.

Reiza introducing Gabryél and Begoña for their

dance show on Saturday night:

I've included a couple videos, the first is of Gabryél and Begoña demonstrating one of the steps we learned and allowing us to video tape it so we might remember it better. The second is some of the students doing another step that we learned. Fortunately, I managed to avoid having any videos taken of me dancing so you won't have to witness that.

Thanksgiving in Norway

Well it's a few days late, but we had an great Thanksgiving dinner on Sunday. Our hosts, Stina and Thomas, prepared an incredible meal including one of the best apple pies I have ever eaten. They had cooked up all the essentials, the turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, gravy, and some delicious sides too such as butternut squash, caramelized carrots and twice baked potatoes. I was the first American to attend one of these Norwegian Thanksgivings and I'm afraid I made the chef's a little nervous about whether or not the food would live up to an American Thanksgiving. The concern was unwarranted though, they did a spectacular job and everything was wonderful. I was happy to bring them the tradition of going around the table and saying something that you are thankful for. I've always enjoyed that tradition and I think they did too.

After slowly eating and drinking our way through the mountains of food and bottomless wineglasses we were confronted with three different desserts: the aforementioned apple pie, pecan pie, and pumpkin cupcakes. Of course we had to try all three and by the end we were all stuffed. I probably shouldn't have gone back for seconds on the apple pie but it was too amazing to pass up.

This marks the third foreign country that I've celebrated Thanksgiving in and each place been memorable in it's own way. No matter where I've been though, I've always been fortunate enough to celebrate with friends. It's never quite the same as home, but this time around it was pretty close.

Stina and Thomas' beautiful dining table:

Just about ready to start on the potatoes and the

butternut squash:

Trying to work my way through

a second plate:

Cheers everyone! That's Stina and Thomas at the head

of the table:

Norway's healthcare in action

Recently I went to Lene's hometown of Sarpsborg to meet the rest of her family. I'd already met her parents when they came to Oslo. Sarpsborg, the 10th largest city in Norway at 60,000 people, is a short train ride south of Oslo. Lene had Wednesday off work so we hopped on the train Tuesday night and stayed through Wednesday evening. As has been true with everyone I've met so far, her family was very welcoming. We spent part of the day hanging out with her cousins and their young children. One of the little boys in particular was very funny, talking incessantly to me in Norwegian and not worrying that I didn't understand a word he said.

The title of this posts draws itself from the last family visit we made that day. An hour or so before our train left we stopped to see Lene's grandmother. She doesn't speak English but Lene did a good job as translator. While we were there someone rang the doorbell and it turned out to be a nurse who had come to give Lene's grandmother her medication. Evidently there are nurses everywhere who have specific areas that they are considered responsible for. These nurses go door to door helping anyone in need with their medication. This service is free. The only thing that is not covered by the state is dental.

I'd been hearing stories about Norway's fabled healthcare and other social programs but it was very cool to see it in action.

Skåbu

This past weekend we went to a cabin about five hours north of Oslo in a small town called Skåbu. At 600 people, it is the largest mountain town in Norway. The cabin, owned by the Borg Brewery where Lene's father works, was very luxurious. Four bedrooms (each with an electric heater), a newly remodeled interior, two fireplaces and even a sauna attached to the building left me thinking that "cabin" might be too modest a word.

We drove up on a Thursday since Lene was off work early and the plan was to meet up with another three people who were driving up on friday. We loaded up the car with groceries, warm clothes and cross-country skis in preparation for the trip. I ended up driving the rental car on our way there since Lene doesn't have a drivers licence. Living in Oslo, a small city with good public transportation, she's never needed one. There is also the expense; it costs several thousand dollars to get a driver's licence in Norway because of all the various fees, including drivers education and a driving test that lasts hours. Fortunately, a U.S. driver's licence is valid in just about every country in the world so I was able to drive the car for us.

I could just leave it there, pretend the drive was no problem and move on with the story, hoping to forget about it, but it was terrible. We took the subway to get to the car rental place and from there needed to go back to Lene's apartment to pick up all of our bags. Taking the subway to the rental place was fine; the problem came when we realized neither of us had brought the gps that Lene borrowed from her dad. Worse, there was heavy construction going on in the area, an area already filled with confusing roundabouts and clogged with rush hour traffic. Lene, not having a licence and not really knowing her way around the outskirts of Oslo, had to call a friend for directions. She would read signs, relay where we were to her friend and then tell me where to go. It was a mess. We almost postponed leaving until the next morning, but in the end we decided to load up the car and go for it.

Arriving sometime around 11pm under a nearly full moon we were well rewarded for leaving that night. It was cold in Skåbu, somewhere between 10-20 degrees Fahrenheit, and it had snowed fairly recently covering everything in a layer of crystallized snow. The cold night sky outlined ghostly trees sparkling in the moonlight and we could see a wide valley stretching out below us which then flowed up into distant mountains. Despite the beauty, the cold quickly chased us inside where we quickly started a fire and curled up next to it on the sofa. Fortunately, the electric heaters helped speed things up, and before long the cabin was nice and cozy.

The next morning we were woken by the sun streaming in through our north facing windows. What we'd glimpsed under moonlight was now revealed in full by the shining sun. The sky, nearly cloudless and unbelievably blue, yawned over the snow covered landscape while a low lying range of mountains stretched across the horizon. After a quick breakfast we piled on layers to face the cold. There wasn't enough snow on the ground to make use of our skis but we ran around in the field behind the cabin like we were kids again. The sun stayed low on the horizon the whole day. This far North and this close in the year to the winter solstice, the sun never gets too far above the horizon, nor does it set and rise directly in the West or East. The sun comes up in the North-East, hangs low in the sky for a few hours, and then dips back down in the North-West. I think the low lying sun and the altitude both contributed to the intense blue of the sky.

Three of Lene's friends arrived that afternoon and over the next few days we had a great time hiking around, playing cards and enjoying some great food and wine. Lene's friends are exceptionally friendly and welcoming and of course their English is excellent. Though it was cold, with the right clothes it was easy to spend the day outside walking around. We even did a little shopping in one of the local stores which had hand-made wool gloves, socks and hats as well as some other touristy items. Though the town only has 600 full time residents, there are cabins scattered all throughout the mountains just waiting for people to come up on the weekends and get a taste of the outdoors without leaving their creature comforts too far behind. Our only regret was the lack of snow since we had all brought skis out to use (I had borrowed a pair from Lene's friend). My last experience with cross-country skiing wasn't the most positive (during my brief stint racing in Colorado) but it still would have been fun to experience the Norwegian countryside in such a traditional way. Maybe I'll have a chance to do it some other time.

I hope all the Americans reading this had a wonderful Thanksgiving,

Take care everyone!

Vigeland Sculpture park

Yesterday the sun was shining and it wasn't too cold out so I decided to go to the Vigeland Sculpture park. Situated on the western side of Oslo, it's certainly one of the odder parks I've been to. It covers some 80 acres and is filled with nude sculptures by Gustav Vigeland. The centerpiece of the park is a large monolith appearing as a mass of writhing bodies reaching skyward. To get to the monolith you first must cross the beautiful grounds of the park. Since I entered on the Eastern side of the park I had to cross a bridge lined with bronze sculptures on the way.

The individual statues are very striking, and the light and shadows from the afternoon sun played wonderfully across their features. Because of the relative cold, it was not overly crowded. The only noise came from a man who sat playing the accordion which contributed to the peaceful atmosphere.

The Monolith itself is an incredible site and must have taken many years to construct. It rises some 50 feet above it's pedestal which is surrounded by even more statues radiating outward like spokes on a wheel. While the statues on the bridge had been made of bronze, those around the monolith were granite. The statues depicted all manner of the human condition. Age, love, sorrow, happiness, it seemed as if nothing had been left out.

It is a remarkable place. I wanted to make it home before dark though, which comes especially early with a 4pm sunset, so I cut my trip a little short and will have to make a return visit some other time.

Pinnekjøtt

The past weekend some of Lene's friends invited us to a traditional Norwegian dinner featuring Pinnekjøtt. Pronounced "pinochette", it is the Norwegian version of a Christmas or Thanksgiving feast. Wikipedia can tell you all about it, but basically it is cured lamb or mutton which is then soaked or steamed for several hours in order to soften the meat. It dates back to when the meat needed to be preserved for winter which I suppose is how it became a traditional wintertime dish. Potatoes, sausage and swede puree filled out our plates for an incredible meal. Mustard and Lingonberry jam were also spread on just about everything.

The Pinnekjøtt itself was difficult to eat but delicious. I was tempted to just pick it up and treat it like bbq ribs but I wasn't about to be "that American". I was also told, halfway through my second helping of sausage, that I wasn't supposed to eat the skin and Lene was then jokingly chided for not teaching me how to eat Norwegian food properly. Everyone at the table was a lot of fun and, as you might expect from Scandinavians, their English was flawless so I didn't feel too bad that my presence was the only reason they were speaking it.

The best (and worst) part of the evening came with the drinking. We were given three glasses, one for water, one for beer, and a small glass for aquavit or akvavit. Aquavit is a very, very shoot-able drink which would prove to be just about everyone's downfall. At every opportunity someone at the table would shout out Skål, at which point everyone would be obligated to drink their small glass. Maybe I shouldn't have participated quite as enthusiastically as I did but it seemed like a good idea at the time. I could hardly get a bite of food into my mouth before someone else would laughingly yell Skål to both groans and cheers from our table of ten. Then of course came the dessert wine followed by a glass of cognac to round out the evening. As you can imagine, everyone was feeling very festive by the end and we didn't end up leaving until well after three in the morning. I'm looking forward to my next Norwegian feast, though I'm not sure if the headache I suffered the next day was worth it.

Aquavit, possibly the drink of the devil:

I finally started a blog. I've been putting this off for ages, but it does seem like a better alternative to the mass e-mails I send out to let people know where I've been and what I've been doing. It will also be nice to have pictures and videos up to give people a better sense of where I am since words don't always do a place justice. Hopefully I keep up with the posting, if only to create an online travel log that can be easily referenced as opposed to the barely legible scribblings that fill my journals. Alright, enough rambling for the welcome post, I hope you all enjoy reading this thing, let me know if you have any suggestions.