the importance of forspill and other notes

Norwegian litter
We, collectively the Americans, had been led to believe that Norway was a very clean country. Perhaps the problem here is that this very small town is heavily populated with students who don't have any particular attachment to the place or keeping it clean. That certainly seemed to be the case in Madison, which had the fun Sunday morning sidewalk sport known as vomit-hopping. Some of the students have actually become attached to the place. Enough to take some heavy road material home with them. My first Saturday here I walked up the hill to my dorm with four drunken boys that decided to take one of the road blocks that prevents drivers from turning onto the pedestrian path at the bottom of the hill. Else wise, we have also happened upon a grocery cart in the stream, chip bags, and lots of discarded pant. Pant is the deposit one pays on cans, and glass and plastic bottles. Pant is usually 1 krone (2 for large bottles), so about 15 cents. We have become the hobo street collectors, gathering up pant that is not broken or flattened beyond recognition to redeem at the grocery stores and make that flatbrød and ost that much less painful to buy. Pant collection is our only source of income, as none of us have jobs over here. Wisco-guy and St Olaf have a pant sharing socialist system, as there is a pant policy being enforced by one of Wisco's dorm mates that he is protesting. Wisco collects it, St Olaf stores it, and they use it to buy their hard cider.

Taking The Walkmen to church
I didn't bring my camera with me, but rather my iPod as I walked up to the churches on a whim before norwegian class last week. The old church was built in the 1100s. The "new" church, which shares a churchyard, was built in 1875. I didn't go into either one; I did have to go to class that afternoon and I was more interested in the graves. Quite delightfully, all of the graves had some small marigold or rose planted over them. Unexpectedly, most of the gravestones read dates of interment no earlier than the 1950s. There were perhaps one or two that predated the mid century mark.

Dyrsku'n
Today's field trip was for Telemark Culture class, rather than Friluftsliv. We went to the regional animal show and admired the cattle. They were whiffy. But the region's pride, the Telemark cow (I'm not such a cow cconnoisseur that I could tell the difference between the Telemark cow and the other cows other than the horns and the coats) was being celebrated. I'm not sure if the Telemark ice cream that I ate was so delicious because it was fresh or because the cows really are so miraculously wonderful. Perhaps it is also superior grass, and that these heritage bovines are raised eco-friendly. There was no vanilla in the ice cream. Pure, straight up, airy and frozen, this was nothing more than milk and sugar. In a waffle cone. Yum.
Pictures from this, the previous Gygrestolen field trip, and all future field trips can be found at http://www.flickr.com/photos/kjerstinator/. It is not necessary to list me as a contact to see the pictures, but it would be friendly.

Doors @ 9, show @ 11.30
Even for Norwegian students living with the nationally high pay scale, getting liquored up is expensive. This is why forspill is so supremely important. The concerts are planned to account for this pre-partying. Most American concerts would list doors at say, 10, and then get started around 11 to 11.30, but Norway wants to give the opportunity to get drunk expensively while waiting for all the people getting drunk on the cheap. My problem with forspill, is that it starts at 6. I am generally happy with two pints in a night out, but with forspill I've found myself consuming two liters. Which is why I skipped the forspill last night, and got to the show before 11, when there was nearly no one there. Fortunately, being American in smalltown Norway (and where besides Oslo and maybe a handful of other locales is not smalltown Norway) has a little cache. I got to talk to two outgoing girls about cultural differences while I waited. This was also the first time that a dj played good music. How a roomful of white guys who can't dance identify with "my niggas" I have yet to comprehend, but at least I didn't start fantasizing about nail guns to the head. And it was a Norwegian hip-hop show, so you can't really ask for anything else.

hurra!

I have just realized that it is Thursday, and I have not spent all of my 1000 kroner allowance for the week. Indeed, I haven't even spent kr 500. After the concert I've intent to go to this evening I might have (if one counts the kr 200 phone card that I bought, but that will last a while, and didn't come out of my precious cash reserves, so I don't think I should have to). I also had a few kroner left over from last week, so this might be a few kroner over a kr 500 week, but it's looking to be close, and thus I rejoice.

It is certainly not that I wouldn't be obsessed with money anyway, having a set limit on my finances rather than a small but steady income. I am rather more taken up with it than I might elsewise have been. As cash reserves in the form of a bank card, I have accessible to me only about one third, or possibly one fourth of what I should have. My mum very, very, very generously supplied me with some money to live on while abroad, which is fabulous. Really grand, as I didn't do so well at setting cash aside during the summer as I had hoped. I tried. I did. But I had less than $1000 for Norway by the end of several 45 to 50 hour weeks. That portion is, or rather as that is the portion I've been using, was all in my bank in Wisconsin. The funding from my mum is in a new account in North Carolina. But the NC bank has failed to send me (or rather my mum, who will then forward it to me) the ever so important bank card, so that I can access this money. Thus kr 500 week deserves a celebration. A very inexpensive celebration.

For reference, kr 500 is about $77 right now, and Norway is an expensive country. I should also say, that my rent and stuff for the semester is prepaid (as it would be were this lovely ski chalet an american dorm), rather than pay-as-you-go as it is for Norwegian students. Instead of paying everything at the beginning of the semester, Norwegian students are expected to keep track of their finances well enough to know what is beer money and what is rent money from month to month. Most of it appears to be beer money.

nosh and ennui

I would not have thought that my favorite snack here would be lever postei på wasa brød. Though I suppose it is not so suprising, as I did develop a sincere affection for pate de fois gras in pate feuillete triangles, so my early dislike for liverwurst was already highly compromised. Other than this, I am embarrassingly obsessed with things non-Norwegian. What do I lust for? Spanakopita, a plate of red pepper hummus and tapanade with hot pita wedges, salsa, fresh pesto pizza. The delightful bottle of red wine that I shared with Wisco-guy and St Olaf last night inspired the pita and hummus craving. What could be better than kr 100 wine and pitas? So now I know there is a bar/restaurant here that I like. Den Gode Nabo played Cake. I was well pleased.

The problem is, general ennui. I'm here to write a thesis paper on Scandinavian folk music, yet I'm spending most of my time listening to midwestern and canadian indie rock on my ipod. I'd say it is less homesickness than temporary academic burnout. I want to spend my time going to concerts and cooking for friends rather than reading non-translated norwegian emigrant literature. I want a team and a small construction project, or an espresso machine and a long line of customers. Other than the very early hours, I think Starbucks was really one of the best jobs I've ever had, and I've been missing it recently. Possibly, I want to do skilled manual labor for a while. I want to feel concrete and practical.

shame and amendment

A club mix of John Denver's "Take Me Home, Country Roads"? Can and should must never be confused.

However, I must apologize to the Norwegian boys, they can dance. Most of them can't club dance (so why are they listening to club music?), but they actually possess greater skill in dancing than grinding. Norwegian guys spin their partners and move almost like a '50s sock-hop. It's really pretty cool to watch, and one doesn't feel anything like one has just been exposed to soft-porn.

norway botanical

Yesterday was the first field trip for friluftsliv, aka, hiking for credit. Today is wimpering about the pain in my legs. I've gone all sissified, which is embarrassing to me, because I walked a lot in Madison. It's just that I didn't walk up many mountains there, seeing as it is so very flat. So today is a little wimpy, but the hiking yesterday was pretty awesome. Blueberries were picked and consumed in short order, and several people gathered mushrooms. Not the redcaps featured in this picture obviously, but ones such as the more humble brown fellow in the back. Note the spungy underside, gills are apparently bad in this instance, though why I'm not quite certain. I don't think it was death mushrooms, but maybe they don't taste as good. In the way of edibles, there was also an herb that makes terrible tasting tea, but helps one sleep. I've forgotten it's name, which I only heard in Norwegian, as our fabulous trip leader did not know the English name. Other than that, there was lots of pine, and and a tree with red berries said to predict the snow. I don't know whether it predicted lots of snow, as I didn't have any previous years to compare the current berry count to.

Common roadside plants include yellow yarrow, red and white clover, and simple magenta roses. There are rosehips everywhere right now.