Jessica's Adventures in Bergen

A bit of procrastination...

2010-05-02T10:57:00.000-07:00

Procrastination. A stage that we all have been in. Something that causes new interests to flourish, creative skills to pop out of seemingly nothing, and hunger pains (whether real or imagined) to be explored. Here is my current exploration of the topic!

I have my Norwegian exam in one week. A week of cramming, studying, and learning new things in class. My stack of ever increasing notecards is now working towards the 400 mark. My lists of verbs reaching multiple pages (8, with some verbs repeating). I have notes galore and haven't even begun going through each chapter and talking on the subjects or doing a complete overview of the grammar. Boy do I have a lot of work today.

I knew this would come. I put myself up to this. See, when I first came to Norway, I was only signed up for the Level 1 or Beginner class. I ended up changing this to the fast progression course and up-ing my course load of equivalent credit to a whopping 23.5 (should I pass everything; average credit load is 15 for me; I have other courses contributing to this total). So here I am, learning Norwegian. Able to hold conversations in Norwegian; albeit rather poor ones. Have I mentioned that I'm not the person who likes to learn languages or are particularly good at it? No? Because I'm not. This has always been my weak point.

So my current fears base around the oral exam, dictation, and essay portions of the test. I think that I'm coming along alright in the other areas (grammar portions, multiple word choices, etc.). As far as the oral exam goes... I'm a bit concerned. (Not even going near the dictation...)

That said, a few events in the past few weeks have given me a bit of hope. I have spent an evening talking in Norwegian at a party. I spent the majority of my work shift talking only in Norwegian. This past Friday night I had a dinner with the other cooks and spoke mostly Norwegian yet again. I am able to express my thoughts and opinions and actually chat with other people. I am able to do this without memorize vocab lists based on predetermined subjects that we will address in the conversation. I articulate points of view and can understand others, for the most part. While my grammar is lacking, my vocabulary limit, and my speed slow, I am doing it. I can talk. So this is giving me hope.

All the same, I must really get back to studying. Please wish me luck!

Husker du?

2010-04-21T03:07:00.000-07:00

I've received some encouragement (read: Katie bugging me about the lack of communication I'm showing) to write another blog entry. My original intent was to have this be a bit more regular of a thing. Something that I could use to fill multiple people in on my life abroad, and thus have several fewer emails. Unfortunately I have found this difficult to keep up. Life is going well here and I have ideas to blog about, and yet, it doesn't happen. Which reminds me of elementary school. (Okay, so here you are wondering where the jump occurred.) In elementary school I read a lot. A ton. Seriously. I mean, how many kids beg their mom to take them to the library for more books when they had just checked out 12 books three days prior? Well, I for one. (This may explain some things about my personality??) In the later years of my elementary school we had this year long goal for everyone to read 30 books. I certainly accomplished that within a month, if not less. The problem was you were supposed to fill out the title and author. There may have been more information as well, but at least in 4th grade that was it. Just the title and author. I had around 4 filled out until the last month of school when we were supposed to fill it in for accurate account. I don't think my number was ever accurate but I'm pretty sure the number of books filled out on the sheet was a pretty exponential curve through out the course of my year.

And here ends the long story. Basically, I'm trying to say that I suck, and always have, at doing some of the most simple tasks. I just have far too much time on my hands.

(Cue sitting back and laughing.)

No, seriously. I have too much free time here to be a bountiful blogger (?), studious student, or ambitious athlete. (Hehehe)

Ever since around 10th grade in high school, I have had tons going on. At points it got to be too much on my plate. However, this is how I function. I need to have a certain level of activity in my life in order to have any real level of productivity.

What I have found is that having an hour and a half class 4 days a week and an additional hour and a half extra of one of those days isn't enough school to keep my mind focused. Add in a five hour work shift (volunteer), pilates 1-3 times a week, homework, and the occasional run. My life has lots of gaps for surfing the internet, exploring the city, hiking, and hanging out with my friends. The problem is I don't have enough activities that I need to do in order to accomplish everything. I begin to slack.

Which brings me to my next point. Wow, that was a long first point. I apologize if you are still reading.

I have less than 3 weeks until my big Norwegian exam arrives. Which allows fear to slowly spread through out my entire body. Until I go back to YouTube and waste another hour. But come on, less than 3 weeks! How can I possibly be this close to finishing the intermediate level of Norwegian?? And my class over? And then just one other exam? And then a trip to southern Norway with some friends? And then packing? And then flying home? Aghhhhh!

But I've decided that I can no longer study in my room. The alluring MacBook sitting on my desk is just too strong of a pull for my weak, uncommitted resistance. I must begin utilizing the library. And memorizing more words (which I truly detest despite my brief attempt at memorizing the SAT word book when a sophomore).

But none of that was the true point of this post. Although, it has gotten long. I will get to my true point quickly.

When I was growing up we played tons of games. Board games, made up games, etc. One of them was called Hüsker du? (I think I spelled it correctly). I believe this was a game with a name in German. I might be wrong here. I always thought it was such a silly name and had no idea where on earth they came up with it.

Oh, and by the way, for anyone who speaks a language that can understand this question already, the game was a pair matching game. You had a board and little pieces covering pictures below. You took off two pieces at a time and hoped they matched. Just your standard memory game.

It was several weeks ago (okay, this is late...probably closer to a month and a half by now) that my roommate, Sarah, said, "Husker du?" in Norwegian. By the way, German and Norwegian are quite similar. At least in spelling for some words.

I had not yet heard this word and began to go, "What?! What did you just say?" After repeating the question and translating to English there was a a confused Sarah and a Jessica who just realized the secret to a big question she had at the age of 7. See, sometimes the questions of life can really be answered.

Oh, and by the way, "Husker du?" means, "Do you remember?". Get it? For a memory game?

Well, at least I thought it was clever...

Påskeferie

2010-04-04T11:48:00.000-07:00

The past few weeks have been quite a mixture. I will begin 3 weeks ago. Some subjects I will skip details and go back over later. I simply don't have the energy to cover 3 weeks at length; nor do I suppose you have the time or energy to read.

The feeling that I had settled into life here began to creep across my mind several weeks ago. I had adjusted to the pattern or my life here, expectations, and found solid friends. The pattern here, while much more relaxed, began to feel more like what I'm used to, and much less like a vacation. I've been working at Kvarteret (the local student run bar/restaurant/coffee shop/concert place), going to class, hanging out with friends, exercising, and basically doing many of the things that seem normal in life to me. My immersion in my setting was definitely helped by the sudden step up in my language ability.

I believe that I learn in steps. I can study a subject for a while but I need to reach a certain point of accumulated knowledge and then I step up a notch. This, as opposed to the gradual hill slope which some people learn through, brings about some frustration, but also makes success obvious.

The week before I left for London showed me that I had really reached the next level with my ability to speak (write, read, think) Norwegian. It was very firmly cemented in my mind as I lay awake for hours one night. Normally I don't hear people through the walls here, however there was a man speaking Norwegian on the phone below me until 3 in the morning. It was barely loud enough for me to identify the Norwegian and just seemed to go on and on. The most frustrating, yet rewarding, part was that I couldn't get my mind to turn off. The noise just kept me conscious enough to have a constant stream of thoughts. Now, as you are reading this, you may be saying, "What! Reward?!" The thing was, my thoughts were almost entirely in Norwegian, or me translating thoughts or earlier conversations, into Norwegian. I imagined my conversation the next morning describing my night's sleep to my roommate. (Don't laugh, if you had been laying awake for 3 and a half hours and translating all sorts of things, this would come up for you too!) So, the fact that it took over 4 hours for me to fall asleep was frustrating. However, it made it very clear that I am, in fact, able to think in Norwegian. Even when I'm laying there telling myself to stop.

Then I left for London. I had to catch the airport bus at 4:40 in the morning in order to arrive in time for my flight to Oslo. This was pretty early and I hadn't gotten much sleep. So my tired, but extremely excited self really only took in part of the events. I arrived at Heathrow and walked into the main area of customs. The timing worked out perfectly as Sam was just one row ahead of me and able to join me in line! After customs, baggage claim, and figuring our way around a tube train that was down, we made it to our hotel. As there is much to describe about London, and our day trip to Paris, I will stop here. My title is after all Påskeferie and not London and Paris, or something.

Leaving London was really difficult. I didn't want to say goodbye and I had to go back and re-immerse myself in my old life and reintroduce myself to thinking Norwegian. I was, however, given some break time to slowly re-acclimate.

Which brings me to Påskeferie, or Easter vacation! For this holiday, we were given break for a lovely 10 days. The morning of our first day off (Saturday), Sarah, Kristina, and I flew to Trondheim. We spent a few days there touring around before Sarah left us to fly home to Germany. Kristina and I continued on by bus to Molde and stayed at her cabin just a bit outside the city. It was an old house with an outhouse in the large shed. The house had a step slope down to the sea shore. As we were nestled in a harbor, we had a lovely view of the mountains across on the other side. They were amazing, however I haven't gotten around to uploading them so I will put them up later. When we got there snow was covering the hill. When we left there was on measly patch and flowers! Spring!

After a car ride to Ålesund (thanks to Kristina's family!) I took the bus for a BEAUTIFUL ride back to Bergen. It was absolutely breath taking. Long, but magnificent. I don't have any photos, however, so you will just have to be jealous because I said you ought to be. I don't think photos would have done it any justice, anyways.

You may be thinking, wow, that is a long break for Easter. I agree. Norwegians do Easter a bit different. It's this holiday time that everyone seems to go up to their cabins or the mountains, ski, and hang out. They read or watch påskekrim or Easter crime. I know, what!? They eat marzipan and kvikk lunsj (chocolate bars similar to kit kats). They don't have stores open for several days. Basically, if you aren't holed away in the mountains, you must hole yourself away somewhere. Nothing is really open. Even the day after Easter. It's a bit strange from my perspective but is just a nice time to go skiing and get together with family. Relax and read a bit. There, however, seems to be an apparent lacking of Jesus involved.

So I'm needing a break and will leave you with this. God påske (Happy Easter)!

Wish I could be at home eating a lovely Easter meal with the family. However, I am not. And spring is here. That is certainly something to smile about.

Blog.

2010-03-08T13:08:00.000-08:00

It has come to my attention that I have, yet again, been slacking on my blog. So here goes another posting. I apologize in advance if it is a bit random. Seems to be the order of the day...

The progression of time has always been something of interest to me. Whether we are impatiently waiting for something to reach us or blissfully enjoying the moment we currently find rushing by, our perception of how time is changing holds a firm grasp over our experience and memory. I read that if you trick a person into believing more time has passed than they expected, they will recount on the experience as more enjoyable. Not exactly sure what destination I was hoping to arrive to with this comment, but I will just say this: it can't already be the middle of my semester.

I have reached the study week for my courses, which really means, I am advancing from the beginning level of Norwegian to the intermediate. I know. What?! I can't possibly have reached an intermediate level of Norwegian. Or maybe I could have?! Regardless of whether my language has progressed sufficiently or not, time has flown by. As it seems to like to. I almost feel like yesterday I was sitting here thinking I had so much time to explore before classes started and here I am, already a portion of my semester gone.

Time has been going by faster and faster every year. It makes me worry about how much will rush by as I continue to age (because, as you all know, I'm practically ancient right now ;) ). I hope that I am able to sit back and continue to appreciate every day without having the years slip through my fingers. Granted, there are probably years that we all wish would just hurry up and finish up. I suppose I should stop this thought here. If I worry or think too much of the future, then my present will turn into the future I'm pondering over before I realize it. Or something. Interpret my train of thought here...

So, in honor of the halfway point in this semester of coursework, I will reflect upon my time here. While some of these are descriptions of things I've seen, others may include conversations, musings, or whatever pops up. Organization is lacking, as I've just spent the past day going through my entire beginning section of vocab and grammar today.

This past week my flatmate (Flatmate, because if I were to say roommate as I would normally say, everyone would think we shared the bedroom with each other. We, however, only share a bathroom, kitchen, short entryway with cupboards, a language course, many of the same interests, conversations about what it is like in our home countries/currently experiencing/many other random topics, many of the same friends here, and the list continues...), Sarah and her best friend, Verena, who was visiting, and I went on the Norway in a nutshell tour. (Could you handle that one?) This provided us with many beautiful pictures, many which looked altered by photoshop or something. They were not. I swear.

The Nutshell tour took as by train to Myrdal, where we transferred to a bus. The weather began as a cloudy, snowy, foggy sort of day. The bus then took us to our pickup location for our ferry ride. (Photo above is when we were waiting for our ride to arrive!) The ferry ride was stunning. I have accumulated so many photos of mountains during my stay here, and yet, I continue to eagerly take more. From the fjords to mountains I've hiked up around the city, they are a constant draw for me. I even have my own mountain (own in the sense that I call it my mountain as I see if from my window...perfect logic if you ask me!). It is fun to watch it disappear with snow and fog only for it to grace me with its presence later. Back to the tour: Our boat dropped us in Flåm, a town that has a pull for its building of steep train tracks and a special type of train. The details interested me less than the scenery, so here I have little to say to impress you. We transferred trains in Voss and took the Oslo-Bergen train back home. For a day trip it was well worth it. The initially snowy day changed into a brilliant blue sky with clouds slowly melting away right as we were reaching the boat portion. Perfect!

Katie's high school friend Irene (E) happened to be living in Tromsø, Norway for a few months for her fellowship. As she is nearing the end of her stay she was trying to get some traveling in and came to stay with me for a day! I haven't seen E in about 3 years but her, her friend, and I had a nice time exploring. We went to the aquarium here and I had a lovely time looking at the penguins! (There were other animals, including, oddly enough, little monkeys. I'm not going to elaborate here though..)

The day that E, Katerina, and I were touring around there was a lot of snow. Seriously. Tons. I hope this will help to show the difference:

Bryggen side view of Bryggen and the harbor. Note the mountains and buildings behind Bryggen.

View of the boats docked in the harbor.

View of Bryggen, boats, mountain, and the harbor, from the other side.

Coming from the rainiest city in the world, this has been quite a winter. However, the weather seems to be changing. Yesterday it began sprinkling some and today the patter of rain on my window was heard. Spring seems to be in the air and the smell that I so strongly associate with it washes over you the moment you step outside. Yay!

On another note, I have learned a lot from my roommate. Her perspective is this: another human being, a German, a European, and much more. But those are big jumping points for comparing differences.

When we were walking in Oslo, Sarah got really excited for a second and eagerly pointed at a tree. That had a squirrel on it. Wow, Sarah. A squirrel! My enthusiasm didn't seem to quite match hers. For me, squirrels are so common place and ever present, that it doesn't seem to catch my eye. For her, it is a rare sight. She thinks she averages about 3 sightings a year. We began talking about it more and comparing animals that are common to our regions. It is interesting to think of animals that are such a part of the scenery (and your dog's life) as exciting finds! Imagine my reaction to a moose but change it to a squirrel. Okay, moose isn't a good example. But it does bring me to my next point.

The Norwegian word for moose is Elg. Swedish and German are along the same lines. We, my Swedish/Norwegian friend Kristina, Sarah, and I, had a funny conversation about moose. Or Elg, if you wish. When they were trying to pronounce it for me I suddenly thought they were saying Elk (granted it was in the cafeteria). Elk?! Elg? What?! Confusion ensued. Elk? What's that!? Moose? They had never heard of Elk but felt quite certainly that Moose was the correct mammalian term. And it was. After a quick search of wikipedia I realized they don't have a word for Elk, as it is only in parts of North America and eastern Asia. I just think that it's funny to have an animal so closely related to Moose have such a similar name as all of these other languages names for moose. Maybe someone saw a picture and got confused with the names? Maybe not...

Another area of interest has been eating habits. Europeans have a different way of eating politely. While I find it common to cut my meat before the meal, or at least rest my knife down before taking a bit, here the way to go involves holding your knife in one hand and fork in the other. For pretty much the whole meal. When E was here we discussed the eating habits of different places. E and I decided that the action that made it polite to us was the resting of your knife down. Katerina and Sarah claimed they had been taught very strictly that you must cut bite for bite with knife and fork and hold them in certain hands. While I don't know if my way is actually the polite way, this is at least the common way in the US.

Which, logically, brings me to beds. In Germany, Sweden, and several other European countries as far as I can tell, the standard way to make your bed is to fold your duvet in half, and place it on top of your bed. I didn't understand at first why everyone's bed looked like this, until I finally asked. Apparently how I was taught to make my bed is the 'hotel style'.

Sarah and I were continuing this type of conversation, for whatever reason, at dinner tonight. I discovered that in Germany there are two standard sizes of bed with a rarer third possibility floating around. The sheets or bed linens you buy there are only the tight under portion of what I would consider to be a set of sheets. If the top portion of the sheet 'set' is something you desire, you may be able to find it somewhere, but you must purchase it specially. Your standard run of the mill bed linens will not contain the 'top' sheet. So the beds are a bit different...

There is more I could discuss but this blog is getting long and my homework is not doing itself.

Snowwwww.

2010-02-23T04:48:00.000-08:00

So the past two days the mountain I see out my window has disappeared. This is because the large amount of almost constant snow fall we have been having. Bergen is, yet again, falling to live up to its reputation as one of the rainiest cities you can find.

Oddly enough, this also happens to be the unit on weather in my Norwegian language course. However, I have been missing the past few days due to the flu (blah blec and booo) and was only able to return today for the course.

On my way home from class, the most unusual things occurred: a Norwegian chatted with me! This, obviously, lifted my spirits.

At first this friendly lady of about 65 asked, in Norwegian, if she could sit next to me. A "Ja" later and before long I was trying desperately to translate her quip about the weather. Sadly, I only understood something along the lines of, "There is a lot of snow." That indeed. There is quite a lot of snow.

After informing her I didn't speak that much Norwegian (Jeg snakker ikke så mye norsk.), she and I had a brief chat here and there. I tried (and had little success due to missing these past classes) to talk about the weather and say that the snow was beautiful. The conversation settled into a slow paced semi-Norwegian, semi-English filled chatter and beyond talking about the weather (probably the most standard 'I don't know you' topics to chat about), she found out I was American and I found out she hadn't practiced English since learning it in school over 40 years ago and had lived in Bergen all her life. It was a pleasant time, albeit frustrating to have so limited a vocabulary.

I greatly appreciated her attempt to talk with me. I know that my Norwegian accent (or lack there of) made some comments a bit harder to understand and we both worked together to talk in both languages. It's moments like these where you are able to connect with the people, the culture, and build a stronger hold over the language itself. It made my day!

Oslo

2010-02-09T04:59:00.001-08:00

This past Thursday afternoon my roommate and I embarked on our journey to Oslo. As the capital of Norway, it isn't the largest of cities. Well, it is for Norway, but not compared to those at home. With just around 500,000 inhabitants, we were unsure what sort of metropolis was awaiting us.

The train ride between Bergen and Oslo is said to be a particularly beautiful one. People love it so much that you can purchase a video of the entire trip. All 7 hours of it. Since we left the station (my first train ride!) in the afternoon, we were able to catch some of the ride with the daylight. There are a fair number of tunnels in the first hour of the ride but I was still able to see some of it. Let me tell you, that ride is gooorgeous! And then it was dark.

We arrived in Oslo around 10:30 PM and tried to orient ourselves in the city. After a little bit of wandering we found our way to our hostel. Walking up and into our room we found a room with 6 other, almost all asleep, people of various nationalities. One guy was reading with a flashlight and while I was waiting for the bathroom, asked if I was a native English speaker. Upon a yes I was asked to pronounce and define "corroborate".

Soon we were all asleep. Or, more accurately, we were all trying to sleep. The people below me didn't seem to be having any issue with this at all. I, on the other hand, found their loud snoring a bit of a nuisance. The guy in the alley below our window talking loudly on his cell phone didn't help much either. Soon enough, however, it was the next morning.

We had read in our handy, dandy Lonely Planets that this coffee shop/bakery, Åpent bakeri, was delicious. Wandering through the city we came across the parliament and Oslo residence of the royal family. Just past the palace was the bakery.

The bakery was likely the highlight of my journey. It was the cutest thing nestled on the triangular corner of some quaint residential streets. Inside you immediately encounter very delectable loaves, buns, and various other treats. With such a selection I opted to ask the girl behind the counter for a recommendation. She told us the darker buns on the right were her favorite and have bits of fruit on the inside.

Jam, butter, roll, coffee, and table later I was in heaven. There was a little fireplace behind me that kept it cozy warm and my mouth couldn't have been happier. The roll just tasted of fresh, quality, healthy home cooking. Ahhh.

Then it was time to head of to Vigeland Park. This is the park that has tons of naked people statues, in case you didn't know. They are along the bridge, up the steps to the pillar, on this totem pole of people statue, everywhere. But they were quite sweet. Definitely would check this out if you are ever in Oslo.

After getting a bit chilly, we heading towards the National Gallery. On the way there, we were surprised to find this:

If you have any clue why they would build such a strange contraption, please, do fill me in. It was very out of sorts amongst the surrounding architecture and took us rather by surprise. Next to it was the Gallery. This was free and an enjoyable art museum. They had a room devoted solely to Edvard Munch and here you could find some of his most famous paintings of The Scream and Madonna.

Once we were all museum-ed out (it was a lot of walking and a little museum) we did a bit of shopping before returning to our room. Our rest was soon interrupted by an Australian girl staying in the room whose bottle of vodka had broken in her bag. Shortly after her entrance came a social awkward American fellow. He was a recent high school graduate attending a not so well known international college in Germany. And he talked and talked.

Sarah and I made our escape to this Vietnamese/Chinese/Asian food restaurant we had read about. While the name had changed, the food and decor was as previously described. Asian food with a Greek interior. The cave like atmosphere and greek paintings made for a memorable experience.

The next day we walked our way back to the bakery. Ahhh. So yummy.

We decided we both wanted to see the peninsula which held several museums, including the folk museum and the viking ship museum. While getting there required walking off the map of the city, it seemed daunting until after walking around the prior day. It doesn't take that long to walk from point A to point B, seeing as the city is not all that large.

The day was gorgeous and we found the peninsula contained very beautiful park like surroundings. The viking ship museum held three boats all from around 870-890 AD. I enjoyed this museum and thought it was worth my student ticket of 35 NOK. Walking along the sea front we found the walking path was directly next to the freeway. This seemed strange to both of us, but we still enjoyed the view (of the sea, not the cars).

The train ride back had a few more hours of sunlight but, since I was facing backwards, I was too dizzy for most of it to get a good look.

Overall, I wouldn't have wanted to spend any longer in Oslo. 2 days was enough for me based on money, enjoyment, sleeping ability, and things to do. I think more time could be spent in the summer time and with a nice room, although it would be expensive. Apparently, this is the most expensive city in Europe.

I definitely am glad I choose Bergen over Oslo. The mountains are constantly surrounding me and keeping me company here and the overall look and feel is much prettier. I had a very pleasant stay but certainly wouldn't go to Oslo if I hadn't been living so close by.

The Lift.

2010-01-25T11:42:00.000-08:00

The elevators in my building are so interesting, they deserve a post of their own.

Since I'm too lazy to walk down the hall to take a photo and share with you, you will have to go purely off of my written description. Feel free to use your imagination a bit here as well. :D

When you first walk up to the enterance, you are greeted with all sorts of homemade advertisements and posters. If you call number X you can get 200000 sunglasses, good to export. If you call number Y you can get Malboros 45 NOK only! If you call number Z you can get an oven for 300 NOK with 2 hot plates!

Pulling open the peach colored door, you get on. There are two layers of doors here, the outer being one you open like a normal door and the inner sliding per normal lift design. Since they recently began refirbishing elevator A, I will describe elevator B.

B lift has graffiti everywhere. There is a list of names from the españoles erasmus students that extends the length of the door. The ceiling, walls, everywhere are covered. The interesting thing about this elevator is when going past the 4th floor, there is always a *DINK* sound. I'm not sure what exactly causes this but something seems slightly out of place.

A lift looked the same as B lift until one day my roommate and I tried to ride it up. We opened the door and found walls completely striped and no light. Fortunately the elevator didn't move either, so the sketchiness was decreased. A few days later we tried again. Only to find an even further demolished interior.

After giving it time I finially went back to check, to find dark marble walls! On half of it. Since I got in and was too lazy to go all the way over to the other block for elevator B, I rode it right on up. I was rather concerned and judging my decision, as the ride was in complete darkness. A semi-finished interior with no replaced light is not the most comforting of rides. Just take it from my experience.

We finally have a light in the A elevator but the walls seem to be lacking a bit. I've noticed a shiny new ceiling so progress seems to be evident. Time will tell though. Maybe soon we will have a completely spiffy and nice, albeit still slow, elevator?!

I feel a bit discombobulated...

2010-01-24T05:28:00.000-08:00

It has been a strange weekend, to say the least. A good one, but definitely not what I'm used to.

Friday evening began with a trip to the local Student Samfunnet, or Student Society, first meeting. We went to listen to the speaker, Muhammad Omen, talk about journalism and life on the Gaza strip. After entering with a fee that pays for membership to the group, we received a bag and found a seat. In the bag were several pamphlets about the organization and the events they have planned this semester. In addition to that, we received a large box of matches with their organizations name all over the outside, a condom with a pink rapper, figure of a man and a women leaping together, and the phrase that translated means "Take care of yourself" all over. That was wrapped in a box like thing that also advertised the student organization and had an old painting of a naked man and women on it. In addition to this was a poster, also outlining upcoming events, and had a picture of kids and people all laying and sitting on the edge of a swimming pool. I have to say two things about the welcoming gifts. One, I have never seen a student group put some much time, energy, and money into things advertising them. Two, they have really strange things they give away. A semi-creepy poster? A box of matches? A condom they chose the packaging for?

Then the evening began. A group of about 30 men, almost all with grey or white hair, dressed in extremely fancy evening suits, began to sing. The combination of these men that looked like penguins with their long tailed suit coats would be enough to make any event a strange one. Especially when the audience are all students in their young 20's. Then they began to sing. They sang a Swedish song, a German song, and one that had a bit of English in it. It was a very humorous performance as the conductor was kicked off by another one who marched around and did more actions and less conducting. During the first song, a few man brought in a ceremonial plate with a bronze hedgehog on it. Candles were lit around it. And there it sat until the group left.

After rambling and jokes in Norwegian, the student president began to talk, in English, about the presentation. The contrast between the annual commencement ceremony and the photos and discussion of the Gaza strip and Palestinian life were drastic. What made the contrast even more odd was the music following the lecture. It began with a local musician of a pop, guitar style. Her act was followed by a string quartet of a classical sound. And that was were we left.

Saturday evening provided a different sort of entertainment. We, my roommate and I, went to Club Hulen. Hulen is translated to "the cave" and is a converted bomb shelter left over from the war. Entering this long hallway you meet the bouncer. The lighting is a florescent bulb or two which becomes much more distinct when you pass by and have red and soft yellow lights and a glow of candles. The walls on the inside are a rough, bumpy, white washed stone and the low ceilings and wide floors give an intimate feeling. There is a sitting/bar area when you first walk in which leads to a dance floor and stage and beyond that yet another bar.

When we went, it was RetroRock night. This means that I was dancing to the oldies at home surrounded by groups of international and Norwegians dancing the night away. I certainly enjoyed myself and it appears as though most everyone did as well. While I encountered drunk people, not many really seemed to fit what I have heard about Norwegian partying.

Obviously, I had this thought too soon.

The late night bus runs at 2:30, 3:00, and possibly some other time. We were waiting to get on the 2:30 bus and chatting amongst ourselves. One of the other people in the group had heard of a young female (we don't know what age...late teens/early 20's??) who had broken into a museum in Bergen recently and was found, naked and confused the next morning. This was confirmed by an older local man. Apparently, the previous evening (Friday), she had broken into the Natural History museum. She was awoken by workers the next morning, naked and with no clue of how she had gotten there.

The bus was too full so we had to get on the 3:00 bus. This was where we got a little taste of the partying style. Since we were on the bus sooner, we had seats. As the bus got fuller and fuller I had a nice taste of drunken kids my age screaming and eating snacks as well as women my mother's age tottering towards the back and giggling like fools.

Not too long later I was approached by a very inebriated fellow my age or a bit older. After informing him that I could not speak Norwegian, he began to ask if he could sit on my lap. A firm no lead him to ask if he could have my seat and I sit on his lap. This was still unacceptable but he was still hopeful. A back and forth questioning of could he sit on my lap or visa versa went on for about a minute. I even offered him my seat, which he refused. After that he began pestering the lady sitting next to me. She also declined the offer but said he could sit on the floor area in front of us. He crammed himself in there and before long took off his coat, which he went on to stuff in between us. After a bit more chatter, he fell asleep, head planted on the lap of the girl next to me. Later when he tried curling his arms around her, she had a bit of difficulty fully moving him back. I aided her only to have a hand reaching to hold mine. This of course, didn't go very far as I was perfectly capable of pining his hand down and away until he gave up. I was quite amazed that the fellow in question never puked.

A bit later on in the bus ride, a different, much less drunk but still inebriated, fellow started talking to me. After repeating "Jeg snakker ikke norsk," he found out that I was American. A brief conversation went on before my stop arrived. One thing I have found interesting is that the Norwegians I've talked to all respond to the fact that I am American with, "Most Americans don't even know Norway exists!".

The ride as a whole was a bit bizarre, seeing as it is completely different from the bus during daytime. When people have their personal bubble and will try and not sit next to anyone during the day, the night bus makes up for their issues with space. During the day no one talks to strangers, smiles at those the don't know, or screams "OLAVFF" towards the back of the bus. Alcohol can do amazing things.

Which brings me to Sunday. Today we had a fire alarm. The system is very sensitive here and has a stop in place, in case it's not a real fire but a smokey meal. However, dutifully following safety procedures, my roommate and I went downstairs. And were the only ones.

I live on the top floor - floor 8. The alarm is very loud in the bedrooms but only a faint noise in the hallways. As we went down to the bottom floor, the blaring noise became less and less until it wasn't even heard. Checking the hallways of each floor we quickly realized that the alarm was only on our floor.

Standing at the bottom of the building, we watched the elevator come and go. Riding it back up we found the alarm still ringing. Deciding to wait it out a bit longer, we entered our loud apartment once again.

Deciding to check the situation out we walked into the hall and saw a fireman walking down it, in a T-shirt and fireman pants, and get on the elevator. Moments later the alarm stopped.

I still don't understand why it was only on our floor or why the elevator operates when the alarm is sounding, and certainly don't know how much faith to put into the system.

We shall see what happens in the rest of the day....

Human Interaction

2010-01-17T11:58:00.001-08:00

So as I stated in my previous post, Norwegians are hard to meet. I have had a few encounters with folks in the last few days, however, and this gives me hope.

One of the such moments of chatter occurred on the big pass between the two mountains we hiked up. I went to the edge to take a photograph and this couple's dog wandered directly in front of me. After some shooing away and smiles exchanged, I finished with my photo snapping. As I stood up, the man began talking. I'm wasn't exactly sure if he was talking to me or to his wife as his eye contact left me with little insight. After a bit more conversation, and when I say conversation I really mean a stream of Norwegian that passed straight over my head, I figured the pause and glance in my direction meant he had asked me a question.

Since they were an older (read late 60's/early 70's...?) couple, I had less assurance that they would, in fact, know English. It is common here but much less so in the older generations. After sputtering out "Jeg snakker ikke norsk" this look of surprise crossed their face.

"Are you from England?" came from the man. A brief discussion slowly brought out the understanding that I had not, in fact, arrived that day. I had been here for two weeks and was not staying at the local, short term hostel. After a bit of confusion they understood that I was studying here and would be here for 6 months.

"Ahh, six months! Well then you will be a real Norwegian!" exclaimed the man before wandering off. Apparently staying for six months in Norway makes you a real Norwegian. We shall see. I guess it makes me more Norwegian than most!

The woman was standing their gazing over the view. Not to be greedy, but I wanted to try and get as much interaction as possible. So, naturally, I asked about the dog. As a loving pet owner, asking a dog's name, breed, and if you can pet it are not the most intrusive of questions. Plus, I miss my puppy, so this big furry creature was a nice substitute. (But can't possibly compare to Leo!)

My friends even thought to have photographic evidence that such interaction even happened!

I still wonder why they immediately thought I was from England...maybe because it is reasonably close?

Later on when waiting for a bus at the base of the mountain, there was a grandmother and grandchild of about 4. He was getting antsy and starting screaming and hiding and doing your average 4 year old bus stop boredom activities. I peeked behind the bus stop shelter and gave him a playful face. After some exchange of hiding and peeking out again, he started chattering away. His grandmother was smiling and laughing and I overheard her say something along the lines of, "snakker ikke norsk"...

This has led me to the conclusion that yes, Norwegians do talk to strangers! However, the contact still seems hard to continue for any length of time. Talking to the couple on the mountain, I could still feel this tinge of discomfort that the conversation would last so long. Hopefully I will be able to charm myself into the hearts of the Norwegian people. If not, at least I will have the joys their lands offer.

The Beauty of Fitting In

2010-01-14T07:53:00.000-08:00

Norwegian culture, as I've been told and observed, is one of a more reserved nature. At least, while sober, that is. I heard several things about this Scandinavian group of people. First off, when on the bus, they like to be left alone. If you walk on a bus, you will find a plethora of half filled seats. Common action is to take a seat in the empty row, as opposed to sitting next to some one. If the bus is crowded enough, everyone seems to sit quietly and stare out the windows. It seems to off put the natives if someone were to try and strike up a conversation.

Not only is there little interaction on the bus, almost everywhere you go, people keep to themselves. When walking down the street, you practically never would be in a situation where eye contact is made. At the grocery store, there are no quips about the weather in line or observations over banana selection. Frankly, it seems quite difficult to meet people here. It makes sense why the student service center offers small talk courses for students to take.

If you want to meet new people, talk to different folk, or just get some general human contact, Norway probably isn't the best place to be. If, however, your introverted nature is out in particularly strong force, it pays off to be here. Especially if you look like a Norwegian.

Yesterday I had needed time away from conversations, interactions, and the energy required for being polite. I was able to slip on my faux Norwegian mask and pretend I was a local for the day. It was almost shocking when the checkout boy at the grocery store smiled and said "Hei" when I went to ring up my food. To be able to go around this city in complete anonymity is pleasant now and again. I can walk around the street, ignoring everyone else, just as they ignore me. Take a breath of fresh air and head where ever I so choose. It's a nice change of pace. But it isn't the sort of thing I look for every day.

I'm used to holding doors open for someone five steps behind, smiling politely to let someone get on the bus in front of you, and laughing over a late bus or long line. I know this doesn't happen all the time back home, but I hope they aren't offended when I do such a thing. I realize that I'm intruded on their lives, disrupting their day, and breaking their silence. Sure, it isn't the way this society functions, but is it so wrong? After all, if they only wanted to meet people through close friends and be silent and anonymous for the rest of their lives, why would they have a class for small talk? It must get tiring having such a limited availability of human contact, right?

Which brings me to their drinking habits. The kids here drink, and drink a lot. While I haven't yet observed this, I've been told of their antics. So, I can only provide speculation. At home, people will drink to open up. If they aren't comfortable dancing, for example, the liquid courage is allowed to take over. Is it that the youth must get so plastered here they lay on the floor in a drunken stupor in order for them to break out of the sense of isolation sometimes felt here? Is it just the systems in place for hundreds of years, often to combat the darker days of wintertime, still remain today? I don't know. One thing I do know, is that they must spend an absolutely ridiculous amount of money on booze though. While at the bar last night, we all ordered one beer each. The cheapest beer sold, at that. It came to a lovely 54 NOK which converts to just under $10. If students consume as much alcohol as I've been told they do, they are taking the money the government pays them for school, and giving it right back. I suppose I will have to see this in action to see if it is the standard or the occasional exception. Until then, I will appreciate the fact that I can spend time alone with Norwegians around, or converse with the international students.

I do really hope I will have the chance to actually talk to a Norwegian in an actual conversation. Time. Hopefully that will do the trick.

Public Transit

2010-01-12T08:41:00.000-08:00

I am a particular fan of public transit. A regular on the city bus to and from work, I have become rather acclimated to the system.

Norway also has a public transit system. The bus center is located in a central location and all buses (from what I can tell) stop there in their route. The set up is an interesting one. A public mall like/food court/sort of building is connected to the bus station. You walk down a slope and on your right hand side are various lane numbers with stairs leading up and out. My bus station number to get home is lane 18 - buses 20 through 24 stop here and it is a very short wait until one comes and carts you off.

My first time on the city bus here brought out some differences very quickly. I have never expected change from the transaction and at home it had been a bit of a challenge to always have the exact fare. Instead, hop on a bus here and you get your money back! But, as far as I can tell, no transfer.

I happen to have a student bus card that allows me to travel as much as needed for a mere 360 NOK a month! Since each bus ride costs 25NOK and I must ride the bus to and from school, this is a good investment. Especially if I'm doing more than getting to school and back, which I am.

The buses are set up in a style that seems somewhere in between a coach bus and a city bus that I'm used to - I can't speak for all cities in the US, only St. Paul/Minneapolis, Seattle, and Chicago. The seats here have seat belts ( I know, what?!) and are shaped more like a coach seat. There is the time above on a 24 hour system and the stop light reads "På ....." The light seems to be burnt out on all of the buses so I have never been able to tell what the second word reads. None-the-less, it means, "let me off!".

Some of the buses here have racks above to put things, although I have never seen anyone place an item there. Several of the buses I have ridden on have TV screens in several locations, however, the are never on. I don't really know what the purpose is of this, but they have them! A few random buses even have it situated so there is a table-like place to place belongings next to your seat. They remind me of some spots on the buses for the U of M.

The most notable difference is how you have no clue where you are going and what your stop might be. If you aren't from the area, that is. Since the street signs seem rather random and hard to read, it is hard to guess when your stop is coming up. There is no load speaker announcement of street names as some drivers do in Minneapolis and no light up board as found in Chicago. Worst of all, there is essentially no map of the area to try and figure the bus schedule out with.

This leaves me with two locations to pick my buses up from and a very limited understanding of where all the other buses go to. Maybe one day I will get around to simply riding and finding out. Until that day, I will continue to appreciate the cheap prices, relative simplicity, and effectiveness of public transportation. I really wish I had a map of the routes though.

One other note: You can get on at both the front and side/middle door of these buses. There is a card reader in the back so if you need to pay cash you must go to the front. I am a bit shocked by this because I know people would steal rides all the time back home. Here it doesn't seem to be an issue. Everyone reads their card and I haven't seen anyone slip by. It is helpful to speed up bus loading time but seemingly impossible to implement outside of trusting Norway.

Musings

2010-01-09T09:05:00.000-08:00

Traveling through Norway, one often encounters round-abouts. There seem to be 3 of these for every stoplight, but it could be that they are so infrequently seen in the Twin Cities (though certainly do exist) that I am overestimating the frequency. Another difference observed here come from the stop lights and the order of which lights are observed. The general pattern exists, however, the red and yellow light both are on for a second before the light turns green. Now, to me this would me GO! I am guessing this would cause an accident or two. Who knows. I still haven't figured out the thought behind this additional yellow light - to help traffic flow?

Another thing found in Norway is brunost or brown cheese. Now, I have tried brunost in my Norwegian course back home and liked it well enough then. I just bought some at the grocery store yesterday and have been basking in the delightful taste coming from a few slices on the crunchy bread-cracker things I bought (very precise name, I know). Mmmmm. In fact, when I finish this post, I think I will go have some more. So yummy. I really don't think you realize exactly what you are missing out on.

Fortunately, you still have peanut butter back in the States. Granted, there is peanut butter in my cupboard right now. The problem is, it is lacking that same creamy, rich, smooth, gobble me up quality. I can't describe it exactly, just know that it seems wrong in my mouth.

When it comes to purchasing food in Bergen, you will quickly come to several revelations. One: it is freaking expensive. Seriously. But, it's Norway so what do you expect?! Two: Safari is not the cheapest option out there. Instead, shop REMA 1000 or Kiwi. Much better. Three: First Price, Neutral, and Landlord are the brands to look for. The generally will be the cheapest.

Speaking of cheap food, I got my first warm meal in Norway at the lovely Ikea. For 65 NOK you can have your very own medium sized plate of meatballs and potatoes. Mmmmm. However, you can find better prices than that. The frugal shopper will know that just off of the square there is a fish shop that has soup for 29 NOK and various other products. Most fall within the 29-69 NOK range and are rather tasty.

Fun note about said Ikea store: The outside colors are not your expected blue and yellow, but red!

It threw us all off a bit when we were searching for it.

The Room With a View

2010-01-08T14:18:00.001-08:00

I reached my room and was greeted by a wooden door handle. The knob, while your average round door knob shape, is of no purpose but to pull the door open/close. After entering the room I was confronted with a very cramped, overly unfinished wood, short hallway. I will say, the first sights of my flat were unimpressive...but you get what you pay for. I figured out that my room was to the right and next the the kitchen (approx. 4 ft away). The kitchen light was out so it took me a bit to open my door. Eventually I got it and sat down. It was all a bit overwhelming at this point and I didn't do much for a few minutes. Not even 5 minutes later my roommate, Sarah from Germany, arrived and after greetings we both went to our respective rooms to unpack. Since the nearby grocery store was closed by the time we got here, and there were essentially no dishes, we feasted on the left over trail mix I had from my flight. What a grand dinner, if I do say so myself.

Sarah had met some Belgian guys down at the student center who had given her a ride to our hostel. They invited both of us over for some wine after we had settled in. While we were all hanging out a discussion of food came about. Since they had no cooking utensils either, there was little options for food. We ended up eating these sausage/hot dog like products that came from a can. There was a bit of confusion for a moment while I tried to figure what they were, as I have never seen such a thing in a can. I can now say, I have eaten hot dogs from a can. Not that I will necessarily jump at the chance at again (may help if they aren't cold). This lovely main course was followed by a desert of Snickers. Mmm.

The next morning I woke up at 9am. While I am mentioning the time to you now, I have to tell you that it was after some very confused moments on my part that I figured this out. Waking up was a bit like waking up after a long nap and not knowing if it was that evening or the next morning. The sunlight gave it a darkish, dusk quality to the sky. The real confusing component was my clocks. I had a watch that read 2:00am, a travel alarm clock that read 21:00, and no idea what was going on. After turning on my computer, I looked at the set up I had for widgits. Prior to leaving I had placed three clocks on the page - one for Seattle, one for Minneapolis, and one for Oslo. My watch read the time it currently was in Minneapolis, so I deduced that I had not changed the time. My travel clock said 9:00pm, and I had forgotten about the 12 hour, 24 hour sequence on the clock when I changed it. Thus, the night before I had switched my time to the appropriate time - but for the morning on a 24 hour schedule. I spend time explaining this because it was a very disorienting experience. It's also funny how much we (or I) use the sun to deduce the time.

After resting for a bit longer, I woke up to a sunnier view out my window (which is quite large). It was adorable looking out because I saw a house nearby with little toddlers in their snowsuits waddling around a snowman. Up a hill in the distance I could observe a school group sledding down a hill and then racing back up to the top. The overall view is spectacular and I greatly appreciate waking up to such a quaint and beautiful landscape.

Here is what I observed when I arrived: (it doesn't do justice to the distant houses lit up on the mountain)

In the morning, it looks much more like this: (These photos were taking at around 9:30am)

There is quite a bit of snow here currently. Apparently, this is extremely uncommon weather for Bergen. They are not used to having snow stay around for several weeks. They expect it will last through this weekend but no clue as to how much longer. It's funny though, every Bergenite (? Bergenian....?) talks about how fabulous the weather is.

It is cold here. Not as cold as it was at home - but I have less warm clothing. I couldn't bring my big winter coat and miss it now. It certainly doesn't help that my room is COLD. The heat is on, but absolutely terrible. I have spent every night here curled up under a duvet, 2 blankets, my unzipped sleeping bag, and 3 layers of clothes, plus thick socks. Fortunately, that seems to be enough. For my toes sake, I hope it will warm up just a bit soon. That, of course, will bring the rain. In case you were unaware, Bergen averages around 271 rainy days a year.

Plane Travels

2010-01-06T09:57:00.001-08:00

My trip began at MSP around 3:45. I was anxious to get the journey underway and had a fair number of concerns mainly revolving around lost baggage, missing flight connections, and going over my weight limit for my one checked bag. When I went to the counter to collect my tickets for the various legs of my journey, the ticket agent told me there was a warning saying we weren't allowed to travel from one nordic country to another and that she wouldn't be able to give me my plane tickets beyond chicago in case I was deported. She also said that it shouldn't be a problem and if I continued on, the SAS agents would likely have a better idea of how to deal with this. Then she went on for the dreaded weight check.

Now, I must say, my bag weighed in at 49 lbs. when measured at home. I had a limit of 50 lbs. and was afraid an error on the airports scale would cause me to lose some of my precious cargo. But then....the scale was broken! After picking up my bag, the agent lady claimed, "Not too heavy. You're fine. Here you go. Have a nice journey!" One hurdle successfully passed.

Airport security was a breeze and I soon found myself facing the issue of passing 3 hours until boarding (I suppose we went to the airport with a bit extra time...better to be on the safe side, right?!). After wandering for a bit I settled down at my gate for a nice moment of reading. My nerves soon took over and I resorted to people watching and taping my foot with impatience. This was a beneficial action because I saw a familiar, very blonde head, walking past my gate. It was Molly, a girl I had gone to school with for junior high and high school. Since our gates were next to each other we were able to chat and pass the time until I was almost ready to board.

My flight to Chicago went without difficulty and I ended up sitting next to a girl from St. Olaf. Oddly enough, she was making her way to Norway as well! She and several other girls on the flight were going there for their J-term and we all had the same flight to Copenhagen. She was from Duluth originally and on her way to Tromsø. We both were in biology, played hockey, and shared a few other interests. Another nice thing was that one of the other girls had the same issue with tickets as I did, so it relieved some stress in trying to figure everything out because we were able to work through it together.

We walked quickly through the Chicago airport (let me just say, the long underground tunnel with the abstract art and rainbow squiggly lights - very sweet!) and arrived at the ticket agent with 15 minutes to go through security and get to our gate before boarding. There was essentially no line and I, again, went through with no problem. We did have to deal with customs sometime between flight changes and I, unlike everyone else around me in line, didn't even get pulled to the side to be patted down.

Upon reaching my gate I quickly filled my water bottle, went to the bathroom, and began walking to take a seat before boarding. Before reaching one, however, I heard my name over the PA system. Preparing for an issue but unsure of what could have happened, I found out that my ticket had been upgraded to business class! This meant I received a glass of orange juice upon sitting in my HUGE seat located in row 8, a section with only 2 rows. We had a delicious dinner, ability to recline, our own pillow and blanket, lots of leg room, and a yummy breakfast!

Copenhagen's security allowed me to pass through even though my liquids were in two different bags (my initial quart baggie and the complimentary bag from the plane ride) and a water bottle half full! The lady mentioned it would have to be thrown away (the water) but no one pulled over security, raised a flag, or made me pour it out. I thought this was a bit odd but pleased to get through so quickly. When I reached my gate, I found a hallway with locked doors blocking further entry. I figured I was in the correct spot because the airport is not large and more people began standing around me as time went on. Sure enough, this was our boarding location. The girls that I had met in an earlier part of the journey were supposed to split off and go to Oslo, but missed the flight and took one to Bergen with me.

On my plane ride to Bergen, I sat at the very front of the plane next to a Canadian man. He currently lives in Switzerland and was heading through the city center of Bergen (where I needed to go) to eventually make his way up north a ways for work. We both ended up on the bus to the city and since he had been there before, he helped me get off at the correct stop.

Here ends my luck, unfortunately.

I wandered around lost with my luggage looking for the bus station to lock my bags in. Finally I asked a nice gentleman who directed me down a very obvious slope. Then, after finding the lockers that took 50 NOK coins only, I had to go to change my bills to coins. Successfully locking my stuff up I went on to find the student center for my keys to my room at Fantoft.

As you can imagine, Bergen is quite hilly. After a long day of travel, cold, snow filled mountain roads that left me unsure of whether I was going the right direction or not were a bit unwelcome. After a bit of a walk I located the center, got my keys and took off. However, it seems that my direction was slightly off. I ended up wandering the city unable to locate the bus center for some time. It gave me a chance to explore the city but all I really wanted was a bit of warmth and to be able to go to bed.

I made it to the bus, had help finding my stop to get off, and then went to lug my 49 lb. bag up very snowy hills. One comment on the snow in Bergen. The snow is of a different consistency. Compared to our powder, the snow here has a more granular, almost sandy quality. This made carrying up my bags for the ~5 minute walk very unpleasant. I suppose that this is what I asked for when I signed up to study abroad though!