Tis the season

The first of December ‘was covered with snow’(and so was the Turnpike, from Stockbridge to Boston) , but here in Oslo, it seems to be a magic day, a much anticipated first snowfall, right on cue, to relieve the dark and damp drear of late November in Norway. In addition to brightening the day with reflected light from the thin white blanket, it seems as though the entire population has broken out the furs, fuzzy hats, huge scarves and fashionable gloves, to warm and animate the streets. Every store and café has lit the candles and lamps on the street in front of their establishment, and the word ‘koselig ‘ has taken on new meaning, especially for these newcomers. The twelve foot ceilings, so charming in the warmth of summer and fall, have now become very large and expensive space to heat. Of course, all this coincides with the arrival of the chimney specialists, ready to pour a lava-like mixture down the old stacks to make our fireplace and stove safer and hopefully more efficient. The work takes two and half weeks to complete, and then the chimney liner must cure for three weeks before we can light the fires again, so we are huddled around a space heater, lighting candles, and wearing woolen underwear until two weeks before Christmas. I did manage to score a nice heavy woven bathrobe that is just a bit reminiscent of Hugh Hefner at the second hand store UFF, so for only 150 kroner I am willing to pretend there are bunnies in the closets…Susan just shakes her head in horror.

I had a great visit to a school up in Gran, about an hour North of Oslo, with a train trip out and back on the same day. Sometimes things just click, and the host teacher could not have been more welcoming, the students more interested and interesting, and the trip up and back more enjoyable- the local train wound peacefully through the forest and into the open farmland, pulling to the siding occasionally to let another train pass. It was a  fun look at a more rural school- albeit a brand new one, consolidating three older schools, and built next to an impressive track and playing field in the small farming community of Gran. This felt like a bit of a ‘Throwback Thursday’ (even though it happened on a Wednesday) and the bucolic peace was shadowed only by the specter of a new highway system under construction and visible at times from the train.

The remainder of the week was almost ‘old home week’ as I returned to my favorite Oslo area school, Blindern, where all the teachers are good looking, and all the students are above average, to paraphrase Mr. Keillor. I am being passed around through the English faculty there as a useful adjunct, and on the two separate visits this week I had a great time and even managed to get the students up on their feet to act out parts of the short story ‘My Son the Fanatic’, written in London in 1998, and as contemporary as tomorrow. This is a story that should be required reading in the circles of power, especially France, where young men are volunteering and fighting with ISIS

An earlier visit to a school in Åmot produced an article by two students which I would love to publish here, but I am not sure if the copyright is available or whether I would be violating some ethical concerns so I will attach only the url, and you can go there yourselves. The translation that Google Translate does on their Norsk is actually quite good, something I cannot say for most of the Japanese and Korean translations I have asked of the Google.

http://www.rosthaug.vgs.no/Nyheter/Skolearet-20142015/Paradoksale-Lud/

And while I am linking things, I would be remiss if I didn’t also send you to

The blog of a French expat who first brought the culture and customs of Norway to my attention in a very humorous way. Unlike my own, this blog is actually quite famous in Norway, especially among spouses of Norwegians who are from other countries

http://afroginthefjord.com/2014/02/02/how-to-make-things-koselig/

To finish off, with her permission, I am reprinting the letter Susan sent home to friends at Diamond Lake who may not have Facebook or be receiving our updates. Same story, different perspective. Next week, off to the frigid north…

Hello from 33b Oscarsgate!

Good news and great joy!  We are grandparents again.  Skyler was born in California, and Hollis, Ross, and Terran have welcomed him home to Marble Mountain Farm.  He was born on October 26, and I was there to keep Terran company during the adventure.  We all stayed in a sea side cottage close to medical services in Trinidad, CA, fortunately, as he arrived at the birth center with ten minutes to spare.

My trip to the US spanned a month, but most of it was spent awaiting baby with only a few days in Nebraska with family before returning to Oslo.  (BTW, if you fly Icelandic Air, be sure to pack a meal!  No food included with the fare.)

Winter has arrived here with temperatures hovering near freezing, short days, and snowy spatters of freezing drizzle and splashes of slush from passing cars.  We are told that there is no bad weather in Norway, only bad clothing, so fortified in merino wool (at least me, Lud has not decided it is cold yet) we try to spend at least 45 minutes daily outside.  This is not so difficult, as the city is festive and bright, and one can still sit outside on fur covered chairs under heat lamps at cafés and coffee houses for hours on a single cup of coffee.  The word now is koselig, pronounced kooshlee, and everywhere twinkling lanterns, candles, and holiday lights give a festive atmosphere and warm glow to the damp and dark.  We have entered the time of snow, so fondly awaited by Norwegians, when long, dreary November gives way to the bright clean white of snow.  Tents and stalls have popped up at Spikkersuppa, the main square near
the National Theater and Parliament, with all kinds of holiday gifts and treats, and the skating rink is free and open for skate rental.  Ski trails and slopes are getting ready to open nearby, and winter hikes and adventures are being planned.  There is snow today at the winter park.

The tram, bus, and subway and rail systems work well, and for the first time in our lives we are enjoying city life without dealing with traffic or driving.  The lack of official permission to be here still persists, which would take the form of the assignment of a person number, without which you cannot travel freely in Europe after using up the 90 days of tourist time, or open a bank account.  A bank account allows entrance into the Norwegian way of paying for everything with direct debit, as this is becoming a cashless society.  Rumor has it that banks here do not deal with coins, but send you to the Seven-Eleven.

We hope that all is well in the neighborhood, and that Dinga, Courtney, and Brittany at #53 are enjoying the changing seasons at the lake.  We are looking forward to a quiet holiday season here enriched by outdoor fun, music and friends.  The events list is miles long for concerts, festivals, and holiday markets.  The International Club of Norway fills up a day or two each week with knitting, walking, cultural, or book groups which always involve a trip to Espresso House, the local version of Starbucks.  I sing alto in the choir of the tiny Anglican Church, keeping me out and about several days a week.  When establishing yourself in a new country, find a group of expats for help and advice!  We have met lovely people from all over the world, who share English and the experience of living in a new country.  It seems unlikely that I will be able to work at all due to the red tape at immigration, so I try to fill the days with as much fun as possible (thanks for the advice Dr. Skip).

Please think about a trip to Norway.  We have plenty of room, and Oslo is a wonderful city, even in the snow and candle lit glow of winter.