Holidays, Later Days, Always

A turkey carrying a turkey...

When you're an expat, there are three, different ways you can spend a holiday:

1) You go back to your home native country.  This is, in most cases, the preferable route.  You go back to the place where you grew up, eat familiar foods, see familiar people, and pretend like everything isn't awkward.

2) You make the best of it in your current new home country.  You can scour the internets for recipes and/or beg your mom to mail you possibly customs violating goodies.  If your new land also celebrates the holiday (Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa… no) you can try to incorporate their traditions into your own (If your partner is from said country, "can try to" is replaced with "will"… Compromise is the spice of life!)

3) You can pretend like it's just another day even though it's not and nothing is open.  You can't even order Chinese food here on certain days.

Anyway, I tried doing #3 during the time I was in Belgium, it's not much fun (I remember subsisting on  cheese, bread, and jam on Good Friday… Ok.  There wasn't much cheese.  Or bread).  Since that experience, I've decided to only do #1 or #2.

As funds are tight and both Thanksgiving and the Christmas were over these past, two months, I did both.

THANKSGIVING

I'm not sure what's the best part of the trans-atlantic flight.  The moment the plane lifts off and the journey itself actually hits you or the moment you take your sip from the first, complimentary alcoholic beverage.  Thanks to SAS' draconian law of banning free booze on international flights (Btw, here's a list of airlines that keep their passengers lubed up… If there's not too big of a difference, definitely worth it to fly Lufthuansa), I only had the first option to choose.

Regardless, I landed home for the first time since the Ravens' won the Super Bowl (important to point out as this will be the first, post-season without play-offs in Baltimore since SRB took City Hall).

It was fun.  The food was awesome (Top, three meals I miss:  1) Wings; 2) Maryland Crabs; 3) Korean BBQ; 4) Fish Tacos… I know I said three, but I couldn't limit myself).

Though, the thing that's hardest about traveling home as an expat isn't the time away, it's what changes when you're away.

My parents had gotten older.  My siblings were becoming more like my parents.  I got to see my nephews and nieces.  They're growing up too fast.  I got to see my friends.  They're becoming the adults we thought we'd never be.  I got confused driving around the hometown I'd spent every summer in since 1986 (This was the first summer since then where I didn't spend a single day there).

The worst of all is that I felt behind in all the conversations.  Even if I'd been sitting in the room/car/bar stool for the beginning, I constantly felt myself saying "What?" and "Who?" during stories and talks with the people who'd once been so intricate in my daily life.  I couldn't pretend like it wasn't weird, because, often, the speaker was looking at me in just such a manner.

People asked me how come I hadn't been updating my blog.  I was surprised they were reading (Thanks, nation of 8,000!).  I didn't really have an answer I could tell them.  It feels weird and overdramatic to say what I really felt.  I didn't write because I didn't know what to say anymore.  I was a stranger to a life I had always lived.

CHRISTMAS

I landed back in Norway in early December.  I had to turn in my paper at the dreaded UDI to renew my residence permit.  I passed the weeks in labor disputes about some work I had performed (tl;dr) and unsuccessfully hiding the Christmas gift I'd purchased for my wife.

It also gave me time to savor/miss all the things I'd experienced when I was home.  Riding the metro.  Neighborhood bars.  Brunch.  Watching sports at normal hours.  The list goes on.

Though, soon it was time for the season.  We got a Christmas tree and were soon on our way across the mountains to her hometown.

And so we spent Christmas.

I got to celebrate many of the Norwegian traditions, like dancing around the Christmas Tree and drinking a lot of champagne (the picture on the website is from my first, Norwegian Christmas) and aquavit.

I enjoyed it.  The food was good (Pinnkjøtt and Ribbe!), I already said the drinks were good, but, the most important thing was that it was a home.  My wife's family and friends made me feel like I was apart of the group and not an outsider.

Which is an important thing.  As an expat, you're constantly straddling with one foot in both your native and present worlds.  It's not so much a balancing act (I realize the term "straddle" can intimate a need for balance), but one of a willingness to adapt and amend.

I've come to learn over this journey of being an expatriate that it's not about stripping anything away, but what one can add.

The life I live may not be one I set out to lead or one I'm fully comfortable in yet, but it's one that I'm happy to own.  It's not about what I don't have or am not anymore, but the things I'm building.  Stay with me.

I'm still building.

Thanks for reading and now a word from our sponsors…

ALT FOR NORGE

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A Holiday Market and A Whale

December brings with it winter and the holidays.  Which, in Norway, means a variety of things.  Two of my favorite are: 1) Juleøl

Dark.  Smooth.  Perfect

and the other is the Christmas Market (or Julemarked).  

The sky is not really that dark... well, not all the time

The Christmas Market is cool because there's interesting decor there (Elk Antlers piled upon each other gives new meaning to the phrase:  Racks on Racks on Racks), random animal sightings (I saw a Reindeer walking down the streets of Oslo... contrary to popular belief, that's not a regular occurrence), and, of course, goofy sweaters (jeg elsker norske genser!).

However, I found something new that I had been thinking about since I first came to the land of moose in sunset, whale.  Not like whale, but whale... All jokes aside, Norway only hunts the Minke Whale.  Which is neither intelligent (like, say, pigs) nor cute (like, say, baby carrots... you veggies can get it, too!).  Moving along...

You 'bout to be dinner, homie... 

I wanted to try whale and the market happened to have a stand that sold it.

The following conversation happened:

Me: Do you sell whale?

Stand Owner: Yes

Me: Can I purchase some?

Stand Owner: Yes [awkward pause] would you like to buy it now?

Me: That was my intention

Stand Owner: You must taste if first

Me: Ok [Lady hands me pinkish-dark red meat on a tooth pick] 

Stand Owner: This whale is so fresh. It was just caught.

Me: Seriously?  Like you just got this right now?

Stand Owner: From the ocean to you to... where are you from?

Me: United States

Stand Owner: And you want to eat whale?

Needless to say, it was a memorable exchange (though, no where near the most bizarre I've had in Norway), but not as memorable as the whale tasted.  It was sweet and savory, but a cool touch.  Like Salmon Sashimi but much better.  

So yes, I ate whale and I liked it.  I also ate an Elk burger and that was not quite as enjoyable, but very tasty.  I would've eaten dodo bird eggs and Manatee steaks, but those stands weren't open.

I jokingly said that my latest dietary adventure made me a "monster", but it doesn't because it is the diet of the land where I live.  This holiday season, I got the gift of assimilation (well, sorta... I'm not doing lutefisk.  Sorry).

Alt for Norge

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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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