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.