Thanksgiving in Norway

In previous blog entries, I have noted that there are some Fall holidays here in Norway, but nothing remotely close to the American celebration of Thanksgiving.  The lack of the holiday may be a good thing as there was no systematic genocide of an indigenous people to commemorate... but hey, why focus on the negative?  Turkey is delicious!

Who needs a baster?  We get it in with a ladle, son! 

So... What did your American-in-Norway do to commemorate the day?  Well... I moved a mattress.  

I guess that requires some background.  You see, our mattress here has been the source of much consternation (i.e. griping in the morning when awaking with sore backs) for some time and, buoyed by the holiday spirit, it was time to purchase a new bed.  

For anyone whoever said that "vacations" and "bathroom habits" are the tests of a relationship has never had different bed preferences than their significant other (alert: First World Problems!!!).  After an hour in Norway's Bed Center (really, that's the name... Norges SengSenter.  It really might be one of a few, non-IKEA bed options in the Eastern part of the country), we were deadlocked between the Memory Foam Mattress (my pick largely based on the commercials I use to see in the States all the time... I have no shame admitting that) and the HR Foam.  After countless trials on each (don't worry, I'm almost done), my inability to differentiate gave the deciding vote to the HR Foam (in hindsight, it was the right choice... better support).  Awesome.  The bed was delivered on Thanksgiving Eve and, to my chagrin, the removal of the old one was going to be almost 100 dollars (550 nok).  Not having it.

So.  The following day, me and a good friend took the leftover mattress down to my storage unit to await an unsuspecting dugnad dumpster.  Progress!

So, uh yeah, where do we put the unwanted beds?

For the actual celebration, we had to wait until that Saturday.  Friends came over and the lady cooked her tail off (Squash Casserole, Candied Yams, Mashed Potatoes, Brussels Sprouts, Green Beans, Stuffing, Pumpkin pie, Apple Cake, and a stupendous turkey)

friends brought goodies (wine, beer, aquavit, and scallop potatoes with bacon)

So yeah... It was a great celebration.  We went around the table and said what we were thankful for over the past year, we laughed and shared stories about each other, and we played a board game.  Most importantly, we enjoyed, and were thankful, for each other's company.  Which, regardless of where you are or come from, is the true meaning of Thanksgiving.

Alt for Norge

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You can get with this... or you can get with that

Norway isn't Sweden.

Norway, also, isn't America.


I don't know if I've made that fact clear over the eight or so months of this blog (save the summer vacation break).

The two countries are different, not radically different (yeah, the whole "different language" thing jumps out at you...), but different (but, Norway and America are WAY similar than Belgium and the good ol' USA).

It's not a bad thing (something I had to remind myself early on...), but it can lead to a lot of "Wait.  What?" moments.


For Example:

Numerous items in supermarkets are sold based on weight (i.e. Carrots cost 51 kroner a kilogram), not that much different than in the states (well, carrots wouldn't run like $4 a pound unless you were in Alaska, but I digress).  However, in Norwegian supermarkets, there are no scales to ascertain how much one has procured of said product.  I didn't realize this the first time I went to a Norwegian supermarket and proceeded to walk around the store for like twenty minutes searching for a scale.  I ended up almost sending six apples through the bread slicer (if you're scoring at home, yes... there's a fancy, bread slicer, but no scale).  It wasn't like I wanted to only buy 60 kroner worth of apples, I was curious how many grams equaled six apples (approx. 720 grams).  A buddy of mine just chalked it up to the "Norwegian way", but I have definitely seen people sneaking scales into the supermarket.

Whatever.  I've adapted by guessing the weight and, when I'm right, I break out the Anne Hathaway...

Fine, something non-food related...

Alcohol cost more in Norway.

Though, its not to say that all the differences are bad or annoying.

Here is an Oslo, city bus

It is cleaner and runs on a vastly more efficient system than virtually every major city bus I've rode in the states (NYC, Baltimore, DC, San Diego, Chicago, Philadelphia).  A lot of the bus lines (particularly the one I frequently ride) run 24-hours a day.

Additionally, there is a flat rate for Bus, Subway, and Light Rail (all vastly cleaner and efficient) so there's no figuring out if you have enough on your travel card (I think NYC is also the same and I know the bus and subway in Baltimore are the same, but who takes those?).

Anyway, the longer I live here, the more I appreciate what makes Norway unique and cool (speaking of cool, it snowed twice in the past week... Fall doesn't linger here).  It's a special place with a lot of interesting food and culture.  Writing this blog has been my way to share with you all how fortunate I feel to be having this experience...

Instead of sharing more sweet and corny sentiments, I'm just going to post another funny, norway related .gif

ALT FOR NORGE

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Absentee and Norwegian Cuisine

Due to the course of human life continuing even when unnoticed, the every four year cycle has returned again.

It's election time...

This is a big deal for me because I have never filled out an absentee ballot.  I figured it would be pretty easy.  I could log-in to a secure, government server, punch my ballot online, and be done with it.  Seriously, this was the 21st century, I sort of expected there would be an app for it.

Unfortunately, this isn't the case...

Though, with good reason, it seems the internet is still the wild west...

So, while I was able to register online (oddly, they make you go through the whole registration process like you're signing up to vote all over again...), I had to print out my actual ballot and mail it in.

The process was very convoluted and almost self-defeating in a way (in addition to having to fill out an awkwardly constructed, questionaire-like sheet with my ballot choices, there was very specific instructions.  You cannot erase.  You cannot use anything but a #2 pencil... which is weird because a human would look at it, not a machine...), I pressed on.  Though, I felt somewhat guilty voting on some of the choices.

The obvious options (President, Senator, District Representative... shout out to Elijah Cummings!, Same sex marriage, expanded gambling) were easy, as I'd read up on those all summer during my sabbatical/diaspora, as well as followed the developments via internet channels.  However, choosing who I wanted for School Board Representation wasn't easy.  I had no clue who any of the people were and I wouldn't be affected by the choices, as I was some years removed and don't have any children or extended family in the school system.  Thankfully, the internet provided a snappy detailing of the candidates (including one who is a senior at my alma mater... Yes, a 17-year-old is running for the School Board.  Only in America)

In other news, awesome girlfriend provided me with two, new Norwegian dishes.

Fårikål

My Take: The dish was very tasty.  It's an interesting thing with culture.  There are people who live thousands of miles away from each other and have no interaction, yet, there are a lot of dietary similarities.  I make that observation because, growing up, my mother (who learned it from her maternal  side consisting of Caribbean and Native American roots) would often stew cabbage with meat (albeit, that was usually turkey or pork... there were occasions when the meat of choice would be sheep).  Anyway, I had never quite had a meal prepared in this matter and I'm glad to have added it to my dietary experience.

Klubb

My Take:  Another, awesome dish and experience.  Klubb are potato dumplings, but done in a way that is slightly different than how I've ever had them (personally, pierogies are still king).  They're a mixture of mashed, boiled potato and grated, raw potato, drizzled (or drenched... I don't have a good hand for pouring) with butter and ate alongside salted meats and beer.  

These two dishes are traditional, fall dishes that helps me to feel even more Norwegian.

oh, and shame on me for not talking about the awesomeness that is Lefse earlier... it is like a churro, but not nearly as messy and with your mouth feeling like it may cry with enjoyment.  Or something like that...

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Alt for Norge

Øl festen

One of the things I enjoy about Norway (there are oh so many amusing things in the land of the midnight sun...) is that Norwegians are a fairly celebratory bunch.  There are so many random festivals and events happening that there is always something to do (or, rather, there's always random tourist stumbling around town).  Which brings us to last Friday... I got a SMS (which is such a rare occurrence that, at first, I thought my phone battery died) from a friend asking if I wanted to go to a Beer Festival.  Of course Oslo has a beer festival (actually they have two)... 

How could I not go?  Purely for you, dear readers, I had to indulge in this cultural experience (times like this reminds me why I don't invite my older, pious relatives to read my blog...)

The event was held in Oslo's new Mathallen (Meal Hall... It's like an open air market) which was having it's Grand Opening the following weekend.  Despite it being prior to the "opening" every booth and cranny was open for business.  In the middle was a roped off, rectangular area that served as the "beer festival area" and, to enforce this point, there was a wooden, square area inside that had an assortment of bartenders and refrigerators.  

Here is the listing of available beverages:

The Best Beer: Ægir Harvest (though, my girlfriend will tell you its Nøgne Ø's Pumpkin Ale

The Worst Beer: Aas Bock (it wasn't bad... I just don't like sweet beer.  Not fruity, just the hops made it sweet)

The "Why do they have that beer here?!?!?" Beer: Duff (yes, as in that Duff)

The weirdest quirk to this festival was the way in which the beer was purchase.  You were given a choice of a sample size (like two shots), a glass for those offerings on draft (about 12 ounces/ 0,3 liters), or the whole bottle, which is pretty cool.  However, as you can see above, those aren't prices next to them.  In order to purchase beer, you had to first purchase tokens from a cashier.  There were only two cashiers working at a time.  You can imagine the back-ups.  

It was all good otherwise.  The staff was friendly.

And this guy played the Tuba!

Why was he playing a Tuba?!?!?  I don't know.  This is Norway.

Oh, and I had the greatest Duck Sandwich (confit de canard with dijon mustard) ever... oh man.  The best ever... That has nothing to do with anything, just thought that I should share.

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Alt for Norge

So, yeah... Fall

Not sure if my last post conveyed it or not, but fall is upon us.  Which, in Norway, is harder to notice.  True, the air has that crisp smell to it and the trees are turning colors (I swear, it feels like the leaves change earlier here... but it's probably just a misrememberance born out of the disassociation of being in a new place at a new time of year for the first time) and the berries in the markets are being replaced with apples...

Yet still... It doesn't feel all that different than spring (Not like the trappings of the States).

The sun (when it I see it... it still does that "rain 4 days a week" thing) is doing this weird thing where it's not quite up and it never quite sets.  Sunrise just feels like a prolonged glare from around six a.m. for the next few hours.  The sunset isn't much different.  It's a little after six now and I've been staring at dusk for an hour and I know it won't really be dark for another couple of hours.  Norway, everyone, where the sun never can say goodbye.

Though, one noticeable element of Fall is the cuisine.  Fall means it is officially lamb season.  Which means Faarikaal (Lamb with cabbage), Smalahove (Sheep's head... and Americans think chitlins are gross!), and, my favorite, Pinnekjøtt (simply saying its "smoked salted lamb or mutton" doesn't do it justice).  I haven't had the first two, but I'm making plans for the first and the second... well, I'm making plans for the first.  Also, I have a date with reindeer pizza... That's right, Rudolph comes with cheese and sauce now (in fact, it's a fairly common thing that I feel cheated on having not tried here... same as whale, but that's another post for another day).

Anyway, it is really fall here in Norway now (50 degree temperatures for everyone!).  If the shortening days and colorful trees didn't alert me, the ever-present smell of burning lamb fat has conveyed such.

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Alt for Norge (before we eat them... før spiser vi dem)

An Autumn Walkabout

I'm back to full health which means I'm back to doing "Norwegian-ly" things.  Or at least trying to...

And so it goes...

Last thursday, in celebration of the beginning of Fall (Summer hath all too short a lease...), I went out to a traditional, Norwegian celebration for the Autumn Equinox (you know, when it starts getting dark earlier).  While, Mabon is more of a Celtic celebration, there are many similar traditions held throughout Scandinavia.  And that is how I found myself on the Akerselva Walk (elva means river so it literally means Aker's river in English... thanks for playing along).  What exactly happens on the Akerselva walk (ok... it's actually called "Fakkelvandring langs Akerselva", Flame walk along Akers River)?  

Fire.  A lot of Fire.

And children kicking hats off of sticks

I realize, out of context, these poorly taken pictures may seem bizarre.  Please, keep up.  We all know that the harnessing of electricity is a fairly, short lived phenomenon and, as such, before its advent, fire was of great importance.  Even so in the frigid north here(I've been making "Game of Thrones" jokes about being "North of the wall" for some time now).  I imagine all the fire (there was also a fire eater I failed to capture) is just a way to pay homage to the giver (and taker) of life.

As for the kids kicking hats off of sticks, I imagine it must've been pretty boring before the advent of TV and Draw Something.  I'm kidding, here's the real reason.  So yeah, it was a lot of fun, there were also a lot of different musical groups and some really awesome torch, lights, and candle set-ups in and along the river.  

So yeah... it was fun, but I prefer my American, Autumn traditions, instead... Go O's! Go Ravens!

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Alt for Norge

tilbakken

So yeah... you're probably like "wait... didn't there use to be awesome blog entries on this page like twice a month?" (well, a boy can dream...).  You're right.  I took a break.  Like from Norway.  I was in exile in America (details aren't really all that interesting or uncommon), but now I'm back.

Were they happy to see me?

You could say so...

In any case, I thought I'd shape my first return entry with what I did in America.  However, I figured that would be antithetical of what this blog should be about (really, it wasn't that much fun), I started writing this to detail about how I found the moods of Norway.  So, I returned earlier this week and, like the two times before, I immediately became sick.

Not like, sick sick, but sick enough that my stomach felt like Prince Harry was throwing a party inside it.  Before, I had chalked it up to excitement (my first time!!) or stopping over in Iceland, but this time there was no direct cause (of course I was excited, stay with me here).  I decided to start looking in to a red thread... a similarity between each of the trips.  Finally, after ruling out the insane (global conspiracy to force me to stay in America where I will become a manchurian candidate and bring about world war 3) and the plausible (air pollution withdrawal), I figured it either came down to my girlfriend making me sick (I'm allergic to adorableness!) or the one thing I'd had each time. Water.  That's right, in an ironic twist, the most essential thing I needed was making me sick.

A short search confirmed my fears.  Over 22 percent of the water pipes were made between 1941 and 1970s?!?  Imagine how far technology has come sense then!  Would you trust your life to a car made between 1941 and 1970s everyday on your commute to and from work?  This is awful!!  I'm going to need a Brita and to boil the water I bathe myself in.  Or maybe a britta filter to tape to the shower head.

What's this?  A detailed study and it says that the "22% water pipe" thing refers to an estimate done in 2010, and, of those pipes, the majority are secondary piping in rural regions and, subsequently, there have been over 10,000 projects a year to fix the problem.

Oh.

Maybe I am allergic to adorableness after all.

Alt for Norge