Ha det bra, Norge!

This morning at nine o'clock, I went up for my exam, and having completed that, my time at the International Summer School has officially come to an end. It's hard to believe I've been living here six weeks, and as I prepare to depart tomorrow morning, I thought it'd be nice to take a look back and think about the things I'll miss about Norway (I suppose I could also take a look back at the things I won't miss, like the constant rain, but that perhaps is not as constructive). Because I was good and packed quickly, I've got a little more time to work on this, so I've even arranged it in a power ranking of sorts.

6. Pickled Herring: I've already talked about how much I like this fish that they serve for breakfast here in Norway, so I won't repeat myself too much. The fact that I can get it around Christmas in Minnesota and at home means I won't miss it for very long.

5. Kvikk Lunsj: I have made an effort to try as many different types of Norwegian chocolate as possible (we'll see what my dentist has to say about this), and my favorite of them all has been Kvikk Lunsj. Kvikk Lunsj is like premium Kit-Kat bar, with better quality chocolate and tastier wafers. It also possesses the added bonus of including directions to different hiking spots on the inside of the wrapper.

4. Sokrates, Et Spill om Filosfi (Socrates, A Game about Philosophy): My friends Aaron and Aaron, who are both philosophy majors, and I discovered this game during our first week here and have played it constantly since. It's a Trivial Pursuit type board game, except with questions only about philosophy. Add to that the difficulties that there are no directions in the box and that it's written entirely in Norwegian, and you have a game that has endeared itself to the three of us, for some reason or another.

3. Chicken Shwarma: The most popular fast food here in Norway is not McDonalds, but what they refer to as kebabs. This food was brought to Norway by Irani immigrants and has taken off in popularity since then. My favorite is the chicken shwarma, which combines grilled chicken, corn, lettuce, cucumbers, onions, and spicy sauce in a tortilla like wrapping. It's a wonderful midnight snack.

2. The Altar Book for the Norwegian Church, 1920: I discovered this altar book during my first week of research and quickly became enamored of it, mostly because it is downright beautiful. It's a prime example of the melding of functionality and art, and I have searched high and low over Norway for a copy to purchase, but have come up empty. As such, I guess I will simply pine after it for the time being.

1. My 19 kroner Foam Rubber Clogs: What can I say about these shoes? They're super light, super comfortable, super cheap, and perfect for the rainy climate of the Norwegian summer. I will always remember my time spent roaming Oslo clad in these navy blue clogs. Unfortunately, while they're the height of fashion in Europe, they are avoided like the plague in the United States. Because I would like my friends and family to be glad to see me when I get back home (and because I have no room in my suitcase), sadly I must leave them here. But they served me well, and perhaps some day I will own another pair.

Well, as the Norwegians say, "Det er det det er", which translates to "That's that, it is." And so tomorrow, I will leave the land of my ancestors and head back stateside. It's been a good time here in the Land of the (Almost) Midnight Sun, but I think I'm ready to head home. Thank you, dear readers, for sticking with me during this time, and who knows, perhaps if I travel again, I'll dust off this blog and give it another go.

Kon-Tiki

If you had asked me, when I was around ten years old, what I most associated with Norway, I may have very well answered Kon-Tiki. If your first reaction to that is something along the lines of "that doesn't sound very Norwegian at all", then you are totally correct. Kon-Tiki is the name of the mythical figure in Polynesian folklore who came from over the ocean to colonize the islands of the south Pacific. What then has this Kon-Tiki to do with Norway? Well, shortly after World War II, a Norwegian biologist by the name of Thor Heyerdahl, who had lived in the South Sea Islands, hypothesized that the Kon-Tiki legend referred to a South American people from Peru, who had fled the Incas on balsa wood rafts and sailed to Polynesia. The major hole in his theory, everyone thought, was that such a voyage on such a raft was impossible. In response to such nay-saying, Thor Heyerdahl did what any good Norwegian would. He built a balsa wood raft himself in the ancient fashion, named it Kon-Tiki and together with four other Norwegians and a Swede, (who I guess they brought for comic relief), he set sail from Peru for the south Pacific.

The little bamboo hut they lived in during the 101 day voyage.

One hundred and one days later, they arrived and landed on one of the islands near Tahiti, proving that indeed, the trip was possible. Heyerdahl later wrote a book about the voyage (called appropriately enough Kon-Tiki), and while I was growing up, I read it over and over. It's definitely still on my list of 10 favorite books, perhaps even top 3. Thus, I was really quite excited when I learned that the raft is still in good condition in a museum in Oslo. This afternoon, I and two of my friends, both named Aaron, navigated the bus routes down to Bygedøy, where they keep all sorts of things associated with Norwegians and the sea. The viking ship museum is there, along with the ship, Fram, from Fridtjof Nansen's expedition to the North Pole, and the Norwegian maritime museum. But our destination was the Kon-Tiki Museum, and it did not disappoint. The raft is not actually all that large; it must have been real cozy, living in such close quarters. They also have a clever set-up, where the raft is suspended between two levels, so you can go downstairs and look at the underside. It was a lot of fun to see this part of my childhood, and while it looks like I will never be a sailor of any sort, if you happen to be walking near a body of water, large or small, and see me staring wistfully off into the distance, feel free to snap me out of it. I'm only day-dreaming about setting sail for seas unknown.

Fisk og Poteter

The bounty of the sea

I suppose it's part of living in Norway, but one thing that the summer school cafeteria has really tried to impress upon us is how often Norwegians eat fish and potatoes. About four times a week we have baked fish with boiled potatoes; it's a bland, if filling meal, and I kind of enjoy it. I think I will miss the amount of fish served here, seeing as we get very little of it in Minnesota. So far, by my count, we have eaten salmon, trout, coal fish (also known as pollack), wolf fish, haddock, cod and plaice. It's been quite an assortment, and it keeps things interesting.

Admit it, that is a beautiful picture of pickled herring on Wasa

However, what I have enjoyed most out of all the fish has been the abundance of pickled herring, or as they say in Norwegian sur sild.  (Funny note, the Dano-Norwegian word for herring, sild, is also slang in both Denmark and Norway for a pretty girl). Aside from the weekend when I was in Copenhagen, I have eaten pickled herring on Wasa crackers every day, and it has been delightful. It makes me excited for Christmas already. If you ever make it to Norway, the pickled herring is something you cannot pass up.

Fram! Fram! Kristmenn, Krossmenn, Kongsmenn!

It was on this day, nine hundred eighty two years ago, that King Olaf II Haraldsson led his army into battle at Stiklestad, and there he met his death, after receiving an axe to the leg, a sword to the neck, and a spear through his middle. When the blood from the dying Norwegian king fell on the hand of Thorir Hund, who held the spear that took Olaf's life, his (Thorir Hund's) wound was healed. Thereupon Thorir Hund gave up being a pagan and took a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Olaf's body was buried in a sandy bank near Trondheim, then dug up a year later, at which point he was found to have not decayed in the slightest, and so he was declared a saint. For five hundred years after his canonization, all the way until the Reformation, St. Olaf's body lay in a reliquary in the cathedral at Nidaros, but the king of Dano-Norway ordered the papist reliquary (made of silver) melted into coinage and Olaf buried under the church. And there St. Olaf lies today, except for one of his arm bones, which is in a reliquary in St. Olav's Cathedral, the seat of the Roman see of Norway, in Oslo (I have seen it! But since Mass was about to start, I did not take a picture. Perhaps I will go back and get one).

The Oslo Cathedral

Much has happened since that day in 1030 when St. Olaf (or as he's known in Norway now Olav den Hellige) died, including, among other things, the founding of a college in far off Northfield, Minnesota named after him. But his feast day is still celebrated in Norway on the 29th of July. Knowing this, and finally having a free Sunday, I attended the High Mass at the Lutheran Cathedral in Oslo. It was really quite a nice service, and while it was quite similar to Lutheran services in the United States, there were some very interesting differences (aside from the obvious difference that the service was in Norwegian), that I'd like to highlight. First of all, the Prelude and the Postlude are (instead of a time to talk overly loudly with your neighbor) a part of the service. Everyone stands during both of them, and the processional and recessional take place while the organist plays. Next noticeable is that almost the entirety of the Liturgy, aside from the readings was sung. I really liked this aspect; it's an experience with a different kind of weight to it, to sing the Lord's Prayer and the Nicene Creed, instead of reciting, and I think I may prefer it. 

The High Altar

Some things are in different places than our liturgy, for instance the Lord's Prayer comes before the Words of Institution, and there are less hymns. No hymn of the day, and no closing hymn. Perhaps what some people may find most shocking is that the pastor recites many of the prayers, including the Words of Institution, with his/her back to the congregation. Whereas every Lutheran altar (or at least all of the ones I've seen) in the United States is built so that the pastor can stand behind it and face the congregation, in Norway there is no space between the altar and the highly decorated back piece. And so, the pastor, when preparing communion stands facing the altar and away from the rest of the church. Talking about communion, there are no ushers here. When it's time for communion, everyone stands up at once and heads towards the front. It's kind of a mess.

Now, that is an organ.

The cathedral commemorated Olaf's feast day at several points in the service. The sermon was about him and the choir sang the Gregorian chant "Rex Olavus gloriousus", which in English is "Glorified King Olaf". Last but not least, the organist played a postlude based off an old folk tune, the title of which may win a prize for Norwegianness, "Hellig Olav sto ved fjorden med sin hær" (Holy Olaf stood at the fjord with his army).

In English We "Search Again", in Norwegian They "Search Under"

While it may be hard to believe, my time in Norway hasn't been all fun and games and travelling. The largest portion of my time is taken up by my Norwegian class, and with exams this coming week, it will probably take up even more. In addition to my summer school class, I am working on collecting material for a research project to be completed this upcoming year at St. Olaf. My project is a study of the development of the liturgy of the Church of Norway, and so I've been sifting through hymnals and all of the books on the subject I can get my hands on.

I've spent a lot of time in this brick building

Before I left for Norway, I was advised by Professor Todd Nichol to contact Professor Harald Hegstad of Det Teologiske Menighetsfakultet regarding my project. Professor Hegstad agreed to meet me the first week of school and show me around the library at Menighetsfakultet, and from that time I've made the fifteen minute walk three times a week to do my research (A short discourse on Det Teologiske Menighetsfakultet, which translates to The Theological Congregational Faculty. The Congregational Faculty started in protest against the liberalism and rationalism of the theology department at the University of Oslo in 1907, and received the right to confer degrees in 1913).

Almost everything you'd ever need to know about
Norwegian liturgies in one convenient place.

In addition to meeting with me and showing me the library, Professor Hegstad also gave me some suggestions on other people I could contact to talk about my research with. This past week I finally got around to emailing all of them, and as a consequence, I was invited down to Kirkenshus (the main office of the Church of Norway) by Hans Arne Akerø, a member of the National Church Council and the leader of the ongoing liturgical reform in Norway. Herr Akerø was a very pleasant fellow and was kind enough to spend two hours explaining the process behind the new Norwegian altar book (2011) to me (not to brag, but I am proud to say that our entire two hour meeting took place in Norwegian. However, an hour in I must have been looking a little haggard, because he made a comment about how overwhelming other countries can be and served me a cup of coffee, in Royal Copenhagen China no less). Herr Akerø had seemingly an endless store of knowledge concerning the new liturgy (including at one point rapping the Apostles' Creed for me. If you've never heard the Apostles' Creed rapped in Norwegian, you're missing out), but at 3 o'clock he had to go to his grandson's 6th birthday, so I thanked him profusely and headed out. On my way back, I had a hot dog and the gospel explained to me in Norwegian by the native equivalent of a Jehovah's witness, and then finally took a nap. I tell you, liturgical studies is tiring work.

The beginning of my translation of the Altarbook 1889

København

It's hard to believe, but I've already been here in Norway a month, and with my time winding down, the time came for my last weekend trip. While, to be sure, there is quite a bit of Norway that I haven't seen, especially in the far north, I decided that it would be a shame to not visit Continental Europe during my stay. Thus (with staying in Scandinavia in mind), four of my friends and I booked passage by boat to Denmark. Our destination was the capital, København, or as we write in English, Copenhagen. It's a 16 hour trip to Copenhagen, and so we were sleeping on the boat there and back. I had had the boat described to me as a ferry, so I wasn't expecting much, however when we showed up, I could tell right away that ferry was a little of a misnomer.

As you can well see, it was a full size cruise ship.

It turns out that we were on a "mini-cruise" from Oslo to Denmark and back. It was nice, because they had all sorts of services, like money exchange and restaurants, but a little loud and crazy for my taste. They also had a duty free shop, where all the Scandinavians ran to buy lots and lots of alcohol and cigarettes, but which I utilized to buy delicious Danish butter cookies. After exploring the ship, eating our sandwich dinners, and staring at the ocean, we headed to bed in our little cabin. The next day, we awoke at eight in the morning to the sound of the ship's captain addressing us in Danish (A short aside on Danish: the relationship between Danish and Norwegian is an interesting one; I can read almost all of the signs, and the Danes can for the most part understand me when I speak Norwegian, but the language when spoken is for the most part unintelligible for me. Despite the close similarity of the written scripts, the phonetics of the two languages are very, very different). 

After arriving in Copenhagen, we tracked down bus passes and then headed into the center of the city. Our first stop was Assistens Kirkegaard, a walled cemetery, where the Danish theologian Søren Kierkegaard is buried. During my studies at St. Olaf, I have come to appreciate Herr Kierkegaard's thoughts very much and so I endeavored to visit and pay my respects.

The Kierkegaard family plot

After visiting brother Kierkegaard, we were quite hungry, and luckily for us, we stumbled upon a bakery by the name of Lagekakehuset. There, we fortified ourselves with coffee and delicious pastries, and emerged quite satisfied. I could have sat there and eaten pastries all day, but luckily for my waist-line, my wallet, and my teeth, we had other things to do.

We wandered around the city for a little while and then headed towards Nyhavn for lunch. Nyhavn is a pretty section of Copenhagen with a canal and sailboats and lots of outdoor cafes. We got lucky in that the weather during our visit was wonderful, and so we sat in the sun and enjoyed the scenery.

Unfortunately, because it took so long to sail back to Oslo, we had only a short time in Copenhagen, and so it seemed that almost as soon as we got off the boat we had to get back on. However, short or not, it was a pleasant trip and Copenhagen is definitely on my list of places to visit and explore some more.

The Hardangervidda

Now, while I wouldn't consider myself an expert on lonely places, I feel I know a little more than your average Joe. I've stood at 10,000 feet among the 4,000 year old bristle cone pines, wandered between the Joshua trees of the Mojave Desert, and listened to loons call on the lakes of the Canadian shield, if I must present a few of my credentials. However, that being said, I have never encountered a place that carried with it a profound loneliness like the barren heights of Hardangervidda. It lies between Bergen and Oslo, a large plateau (Vidda is Norwegian for "wide expanse"), at an average height of 3,500 feet. Its height combined with its northern latitude prevents the growth of any trees, and so nothing but barren moorland, pocketed with crystal clear lakes and streams, stretches as far as the eye can see. I may sound like a broken record, but words truly don't capture the feeling the heights evoke, and so, dear reader, I leave you with some pictures.