Unnskyld (Or Sorry Little Girl, but I Blame Your Mom)

About two weeks before we got married and about a month before we moved to Stavanger, Husband and I came over to Stavanger for a week. 

Husband was starting his job.  I needed to get a little bit familiar with the town and most importantly we needed to find a place to live. 

As part of the moving package, there were some "perks" included to help me get acclimated, one of which was a woman named Tune ("Tooooooooooon-NAH). 

Tune was a sweet, tiny Norwegian woman who I assumed was about my mom's age.*  She dressed all in black, talked about how she was still a little winded from her three hour "training" which started at 5am. 

I smiled through most of the "training" talk because I had no idea what she was talking about and assumed that I would pick it up in context eventually.  

When I did, both of us were horrified.  

I was shocked that a person would want to"train" (AKA "work-out") for three hours and she was shocked that I though gym time was a necessary evil best done in highly concentrated spurts. 

Tune's job was to threefold:

1) Show me around town and the area, which included introducing me to shopkeepers and showing me where to buy things.  

I also suspect she was getting kickbacks from everyone because she would be totally overt about who I was, "This is ELIZABETH DUREL.  She is moving here in a few weeks and she's from AMERICA.  She's one of MY PEOPLE.  You know, I'm HELPING HER GET SETTLED."

(I also suspect that she was paid fat cash by the hour.  She wanted to hang out ALOT and this town is relatively small.  Finally, I had to feign tiredness and talk about how "I just don't learn well unless I do it myself. Thanks so much, I'll call you.")  

2) Help me look at apartments and houses with the realtor (AKA "Bergen Blondie"), so I could decide what was worth taking Husband back to see. 

This was a minor disaster.  

Our requirements were that our new home needed to fit three firm requirements:

--within walking distance to town

--must take both dogs

---have more than about 1000 sq. feet (approx. 100 sq.meters). 

So, on two mornings, Tune and I hopped into the realtor's car.  I was armed with a notepad and measuring tape and was heartened by their promises of the "perfect places" we were going to see. 

House One: A giant 6-bedroom house in the middle of nowhere. 

"Look at all the space," said Bergen Blondie.  "Look at all the cows," I replied. 

House Two: An apartment in a high-rise that only took one dog. 

"You could probably hide one of the hunds," said Tune. "Remember? Lillie is 60lbs. Milo is 100lbs. I'm not sure either will tuck into my purse," I replied.   

House Three: A small house with a kitchen from a 1950's dorm room along one wall. 

"You are newlyweds, you will want to be close all the time," they both agreed. "Yes, but not ALL the time and also, we have to eat," I replied.

Overall, the entire experience made me doubt my own skills in the art of English'ing.  

As they dropped me back off at the hotel, the pair went for the international routine of Good Cop/Bad Cop fortified with a dash of tough love, which culminated in "Housing is very tight here, you may not get all you want."  

After standing firm, I thanked them and said, "Well, I guess we'll just live in a hotel, until we find what we need." 

PS---Husband found our house for us on the last day. It's not perfect, but fit all three of the requirements.  Tough on you, Bergen Blondie, that would have been a fat commission.  And probably a cut for you, too, Tune.

3) Acclimate me to the local customs, just a bit.  

Early on, I noticed that Tune would get a giant grin every time I talked.  I thought it may have been my Southern accent or the fact that occasionally I string words together in a somewhat creative fashion or maybe just that I am American.  

In any case, I was okay with it and just ignored it for the first day.  

Finally about halfway through the second day, she put her tiny hand on mine and said, "You know, we Norwegians are just not as polite as you are."

And it's true.  

I have the habit of saying "Unnskyld" ("Excuse me", pronounced "OOOOOHN-shuuuud") when I need to pass or to get someone's attention.  And I often get shocked looks.

The closest translation for "please" is "Vær så snil" ("Vah soh SNIL" or "You are so nice"), but it's highly uncommon.  I've heard it said once, and that was uttered by my friend Erin, who is an American from Washington State. Husband thinks he's probably heard it twice in the four years total he's lived here. 

Thank you is "Takk" (Tahk), which is fairly common.

Then there's "Tusen Takk" (TOOO-sen Tahk) which mean "a thousand thanks."  That's for the really big deals...As Husband explains it, " It's if you're lost and totally frustrated and someone helps you. It's not if someone hands you a bag of sausages at the meat store.  

And it's not that Norwegians are rude or thoughtless, it's just the way things are...

Which brings me to our Saturday at IKEA.

Husband and I needed a new rug for the kitchen.  I wanted a few candles and we needed a present for one of our favorite one-year olds.  

When we drove into the parking lot, it was PACKED, mobbed with quite possibly the vast majority of people within a 30 mile radius.  

And though I lived 10 happy years in New York City and I am a fan of people, I just don't tend to like them all standing within a close proximity. 

And by close, I really just mean I don't like crowds.  I've found they always include touching people I don't know and usually a fair amount of jostling and shoving (not by me, but by other people.)**  

As Husband, drove through the parking lot, I was busy calculating...

Need for objects 

X 

Need for Soft Ice Cream

X 

Time We'll Spend in Line

X 

Lack of Things to Do on a Rainy Stavanger Saturday

/

Number of People Packed Inside

And it all equaled a shrug...

So we went inside.  

And eventually, we left with our three objects...But I also left with an ice cream cone as well as several small face sized bruises on the back of my upper thigh. 

How did I get the bruises you wonder?

When mothers shoved past me, they seemed to forget that they were holding their small children by the hand.  And as they sneaked quickly past, their little people would get banged into the back of me.  

Poor little people.  

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*As it turned out Tune was only about ten or so years older than I am and about ten or so years younger than the Big D.  And right now, I am not totally willing to confirm what it may mean about the three of us, I can say with realize certainty that I'm pretty sure it means that one of us looks OLD. 

**Walking on a crowded sidewalk in New York is like dancing. Most people, especially natives, knows the steps and you never touch actually come into full body contact unless you mean to or are a tourist. Trust me on this.

A Cookout (or "The Beginnings of a Brainteaser with Just a Little More Effort")

Even though the weather report forecasted rain (for the most part, when doesn't it?), last week, Erin and Kyrre hosted a cook-out. 

It was a really fun mixed group, both nationally (Norwegians, Americans, Dutch, Australian, Swedish/Italian, Venezuelan) as well as professionally (school administrator, various kinds of project managers, engineer, journalist, consultant, physician), so it was pretty lively overall.

And no, this is not the beginning of a brainteaser, though it could be:  

Eleven people were at a barbeque. Six were women and five were men. The majority were European--- 4.5 of these were Scandinavian---but there was also one South American, one Australian and three Americans.  Everyone has a profession, but some don't work in an office. Four were drinking beer pulled from a Norwegian's purse where it had been stuffed.  Three were drinking champagne.  One was drinking a fruit cocktail that most of the rest thought was stiff with vodka.  Eight sat on chairs, while one lounged and sneaked bits of sausage to a sweet dog who just wandered up.  The Norwegian, Dutch, French and English languages were all used, often in the same conversation. So who was a vegetarian?

(I used to love those.) 

But back to the shindig.  

Husband was charged with opening the champagne bottle.  He aimed it out the window because he didn't want to put an eye out, at least not one of anyone we knew.

Then the guys went outside to help Kyrre get the grill going. Truthfully, I'm not sure Kyrre needed the help, but the rest of the men enjoyed it. 

Kyrre and Husband are hard at work.  Note that Husband is wearing my flip-flops, over his socks.  When I noticed my shoes had gone missing (remember no one wears shoes inside houses in Norway...) I immediately (and with Erin's permission) stole a pair of Kyrre's.

Most of the rest of the crowd on K&E's back porch, waiting on the good eats.

Alex is a bit sassy and grins when she sees cameras in the vicinity, Åshlid, while also sassy, missed the grin moment.

Alex does not know that dog, but thought it looked hungry.

Husband is not a grump, he's just playing one in this photo.

Eva is trying her sausage wrapped in a potetkaker, which a sort of potato pancake. It's used instead of buns.  It's really tasty and much lighter and you can still stuff it full of the good stuff like sauerkraut and ketchup. 

Eventually, the party moved inside.

 

Longer days, shorter blogging

It's been a busy few weeks and I have been woefully neglectful about posting, but I'm going to be better about it next week.  In the meantime, here is the quick update:

Like the darkness, the rain is creeping back into the days.  We're moving slowing into about 20 hours of sunlight, down from a high of more than 23 hours.  And with that comes the wetter weather.  Apparently, it's been the best summer, with the driest weather in more than 150 years, but it's moving into fall-like weather lately.  It's not raining all day, but it is raining some of almost every day...

Which means, that as the days get shorter, the blogging will get more frequent.  I wonder if there's a trend there?

Husband and I have been having loads of fun doing not much of anything.  

My work permit came through, which launches the next big dilemma...What will I do?  This town is full of unemployed educated women who have moved here to be with their husbands or partners, but for a variety of reasons (licensing, language, networks) cannot get a job.  While it's obvious that I will not be working for the local news, I have started thinking about different project work.  And best of all, have been lucky enough to have met some people who are offering to help a bit.  So we'll see how to works out...

In any case, Husband and I are off to London tomorrow for a long weekend, so after  the requisite monthaversay post, I'll see you kids next week.

Now You Are As Smart As a Fifth Grader

While I like to tell where we've been, I also like to tell you where we are.

And recently, Husband and I worked on a Flat Matt project for our nephew Matt, who is in elementary school in California.

Flat Matt is an adaptation of a project called Flat Stanley, which begins with a somewhat sad and gruesome story.

Stanley was a little boy in elementary school whose parents were poor and couldn't send him to visit a friend. Stanley was disappointed but luckily for him (depending on how you look at it, I suppose) there was an accident in his classroom.

A chalkboard fell down on him and squashed him flat. But, as gruesome as the incident was, it also allowed his parents to laminate him, stuff him into an envelope and mail him off to Stanley's friend.

So though he was now flat, Stanley could visit his friend.

So now, elementary students from all over, smash themselves flat and mail them off to their friends and relatives in distant lands. The recipients take the flat versions of their young friend around their own town, take photos and assemble a project and mail it back.

Then the living, breathing, un-smashed versions have geography lessons from around the country and the world.

So this is what we sent back to California last week.

The version Matt and his classmates got was a booklet, so you'll just have to do with it in blog-form (and with a few details removed.)

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Flat Matt Goes to Scandinavia
Hanging with Uncle and Aunt Elizabeth
Stavanger, Norway

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Norway is the northernmost country in Europe, part of a group of four countries called Scandinavia*

Norway is not a very big country, but it is a long one. (If you took the tip and swung it around, you’d end up in Rome. Italy.)

Only about four million people live in the entire country.

About 118,000 people live in Stavanger. That is pretty close to the population of Flat_Matt's_town, but Stavanger is much farther north resting on about the same latitude as Anchorage, Alaska.

(*The other three are Denmark, Sweden and Finland.)

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Almost 10 days after the giant yellow envelope was posted from Flat_Matt's_town, it arrived in the Durel’s mailbox.

Because it had traveled more than 5,000 miles, it must be important. So Aunt Elizabeth took it around the corner and across the harbor, so it could be opened immediately by Uncle.


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Uncle works for a big company. They have offices all over the world.

This is his desk in his office building. His business believes that everyone should work in the same room so they can collaborate and get things done.

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The heart of Stavanger is the harbor. Years ago, Stavanger’s main industry was the ocean, but over the past few decades is know for the oil in the region. Its newest nickname is The Petroleum Capital.

The Harbor is often packed with ships of every size. Small rowboats and giant oil tankers are moored alongside each other almost every day.

Behind Uncle and Flat Matt is the view from Uncle’s office front door.

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Often when people think of Norway, they think of snow and cold, which is true of some parts of the country.

But because Stavanger is located on the southwest coast, the average temperature is about 40 degrees Fahrenheit and it rains about 220 days during the year.

Stavanger is so far north on the globe that during the winter, there are long dark days. In the summer, though, it is exactly opposite. There are long light days.

Because sunny days are so rare, when the sun is out, the people go out as well. So after work, Uncle took Flat Matt for a burger and a soda.

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The coastline of Norway looks jagged and torn. That’s because years and years ago, giant glaciers dug into the land, forming fjords (pronounced “feee-yords” in Norwegian).

So now, sometimes people use ferries to travel from town, so they do not have to drive all around the jagged countryside.
Behind Aunt Elizabeth* and Cousin Milo, you’ll see an oil truck driving into the front of a ferry on its way to Tau.

*Uncle had to go to work, so Aunt Elizabeth, who is a writer with schedule which is more loose, is helping out.

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A few days ago, Norway took the #2 spot on Save the Children’s list of best places to be a mom. (Sweden, one of the other Scandinavian countries, was #1.) Maybe one of the reasons is because moms can choose between so many statues when their kids want to climb and play.

These are two of the statues that seem to be about fairy tales.

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This is one of the statues which are all over town.

But look even more closely at the photo and you’ll notice the old cobblestone streets.

The cobblestones were laid down in the 18th and 19th centuries and now are only for pedestrians to walk on, not cars (unless the cars have taken a wrong turn.)

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Oddly enough, along with the fishing and the oil industry, the hair industry is very big here as well. (Frisør means “hairdresser”)

On almost every single block, there is a place to get your hair dyed or cut or blown out.

Frankly, Aunt Elizabeth is mystified as to how so many stay in business in a town this size, especially when it is so expensive to have the services done.

(Where is Flat Matt? Look closely and you may be able to spot him.)

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This is the Norwegian flag.

Because Norway is a fairly new country, the flag’s design is reminiscent of the other Scandinavian countries.

Norwegians are very patriotic and fly their flag at any time.

May 17th is their independence day, similar to the US 4th of July. It’s a very very big deal. People dress up in the national costume and march in parades.

There are also firm and serious rules about how to handle the flag. It must be folded a certain way and cannot be worn below the waist.

It can, though, be worn on the head.

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Norway is also known for its sweaters.

It can get cold and damp and sheep live here.

So Norwegians made very warm wool sweaters.

Originally sweaters were only black and white because those are sheep colors.

Sometimes fancy ones come in red.

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Trolls play a big role in Norwegian literature and folktales.

Occasionally they are kind, but mostly they are rotten and sometimes they live under bridges.

Often they have big noses and ears.

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Norway also has antelopes.

Not only do they make tasty steaks, but also warm headbands.

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Norwegians believe everyone living in the country should be equal.

This is at the harbor in the middle of town.

Look closely at the steps. Do you see the smaller ones?

When it was time to redo the steps several years ago, the designers thought about all the creatures that may need the steps. The smallest ones are for the ducks.

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Look at the giant statue next to Flat Matt. What do you think it is?

Many years ago, before they found out, Stavanger was a shipping and fishing town.

That giant statue is a silver shrimp.

Then look next to it, at the corner of the harbor. You’ll see just a bit of a house that looks like it has a metal triangle on top.

That is a fishmarket where townspeople buy loads of fresh shrimp that has just come off the ships.

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We spent most of the day lounging around the harbor on the sunny day.

The house behind Flat Matt are hundred of years old.

Now those buildings are restaurants and shops.

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Norway is very ecologically aware. There are separate waste containers for paper, plastic and general trash.

In many grocery stores, there are recycling machines.

Flat Matt is helping to recycle by feeding the bottles into the round opening. Once he’s finished feeding in all the bottles, he pushes the green button.

A slip of paper will come out of the slot, which is kind of like a coupon.

When he’s completed his grocery shopping, he can present the slip of paper to the check-out person who will subtract the amount of money on the slip from the total bill.

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When Uncle was done with work, Aunt Elizabeth and Flat Matt went to meet him.

They walked home, past the Stavanger Cathedral (this is the back door) which is the oldest cathedral in Norway.

It’s been around for more than 900 years.

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And then Flat Matt ended up, right where he began…

At Uncle and Aunt Elizabeth’s house.

Come back again, soon!

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(thanks Erin for taking some of the photos!)

How to Dress in Scandinavia

In Stavanger, the average temperature is about 40 degrees the entire year. Of course it fluctuates depending on the season, but it's pretty mild and, of course, rainy.

So how does one seasonably dress and still be fashionable? The answer to that is "You don't, really."

But most of us, well at least in the cities and the people we know, try.

The key components to any woman's wardrobe are:

1) striped socks and skinny jeans (natch)



2) rain boots



3) tights, footless and footed



4) long sleeved tee shirts



Most women have these components in a variety of colors. Then, depending on the occasion, you add a jumper or a dress or a sweater in the appropriate layers. The leg attire is always tucked into the boots and there you have it.

And while Scandinavia tends to be casual on most occasions, on special days, you get fancy.

May 17 is a big deal in Norway. In some ways, it's the equivalent of the United States' 4th of July. It's called Constitution Day because on that day in 1814, Norway adopted its own.

The children have parades and many people, especially the children, wear the bunad, which is the Norwegian national dress.



Even if you don't wear a bunad, it is absolutely verboten that you dress up in fancy clothes. The men wear suits and the women wear dresses.

The Norwegian flag



which is flown all over the place, becomes even more prevalent around this time as well.

A few of our friends in Stavanger were somewhat horrified that we would be out of the country on May 17th because it's such a big deal.

And one couple was having a party because one of the parades was marching past their house.

We were disappointed to miss it, but Husband had a meeting in Stockholm on Friday, so we decided that it was a great opportunity for me to come along for a long weekend.

Even in Stockholm many of the government building were flying the Norwegian flag alongside their own.



There was a giant celebration in one of the parks and afterward we saw several people wearing the bunad as well.

Look closely at the woman whose back is to me in the photo.

She had on the full dress and her husband had on a sharp dark suit with a Norwegian flag pin.


(Yes, I was sneaky taking the photo, but we were having an post-shopping beer in a somewhat swanky place. I just couldn't ask permission. Nice lady, if you are reading this. Thanks, you looked super in your bunad.)

But on this day, because we are not Norwegian and we were in Stockholm, we did not dress up.

I wore a blue spring dress with the requisite tights and boots.



Husband: I like it. You look like a naughty candy striper. The kind who leans over the patient and hangs their boobs in the face.

Me: Thank you

Then, because it was a slightly dreary day, I added a red scarf. It was cold and this was the only one I had with me.



So unwittingly, I did, in fact, dress with Norway in mind. Perhaps it was merely unconscious. Perhaps it was just that I liked that dress. But in any case, I had on the red and blue and it just made sense to me. And, for just a second, I felt slightly assimilated.

So I wondered it it would make sense to Husband.

Me: What do you think now? What do I look like?

Husband: Ummmmm, an elf?

No Matter Where You Go, There They Are

This was on the front page of one of Norway's biggest papers yesterday.



As an American journalist, my first inclination is to say "Must have been a slow news day."

As a American expat, my first inclination is to say "Husband was totally right. Weather here, especially sunny weather, is a big deal."

Weather is such a big deal that pretty much the second thing Norwegians ask any newcomer is "How are you finding the weather." *

(Here's a tip: Always say something positive. Even if it has rained for 40 days and 40 nights. Even if you are wishing you lived in an ark and not a renovated sardine factory, say "It's great to get such use out of my galoshes." Or perhaps, "It's going to be so green and lovely come spring.")

Right after you answer whatever it is you'd like to say, (Keep it positive. See tip above), a Norwegian will usually laugh and say, "Have you heard our famous saying?"

(Here's a tip: Say no and let them tell you. It's fun for them. Seriously. If you just want to say it anyway, make a joke about it. Perhaps, say "Of course I have. It's practically part of the entry process. If you don't know it, you can't come.")

Then, if you wait and let them tell you, they will say "There is no bad weather, only bad clothes."

Next you laugh.

But it's true, the weather here lately is gorgeous.

And, according to Husband and other people who know, it's summer now.

Spring happened on about ten days last month. And for the curious, I do not mean ten consecutive days. Just ten days and they happened in April.

But now it's summer.

These are a few things that Lillie and I have seen over the past few days.

From the top of our hill on Sunday afternoon, the actual day the newspaper said Summer arrived:





But this morning, we walked Husband to work. And after we dropped him off pretty close to his office, we walked onto a pier that extends out into the middle of the harbor.

This is what we see to our left.



During the summer, loads of ships park in the harbor. Sometimes they are giant tour boats. Sometimes commercial fishing boats or oil boats. And other times just private boats filled with people hanging out.


This is what is happening behind us.



The morning activity is in full swing. Cafe workers are putting out the tables. People are heading to their offices and the flower vendors are setting up.


This is what we see to our right.




And a little closer up, there is Husband's office.


Look at the lowest row of windows. He is sitting on the other side of the wall next to the third window from the left. He is working. Lillie and I are still sitting on the pier in the middle of the harbor. We're just hanging out.


This is what we saw on the way back home. Next to the oil museum is the Geo Parken. It's a playground with all the necessary things, swings and bouncy places. School must be on holiday this week because it was packed.



But along with sure signs of summer---the boats and the blue skies and the temperatures--- guess what else I saw last night? Really, I saw about six, right on our back porch...


(Ignore the insanity you see on our neighbor's back porch. Concentrate on the flying object in the top center.)


Yep, it's a mosquito.

Dammit.






*
The first thing they say is "How are you finding Norway?"