Lukey Goes Abroad: 06/15/11

Vennsela

After failing to take the trip I wanted to take the other day, I got on a different train today and I ALMOST made it to a town I wanted to see! The train schedule to Kristiansand permitted me to get on in the morning, then arrive with just enough time to walk around for an hour before jumping on the return train to Oslo. So, I did my part and got on the train. Only there were no trains leaving Oslo today, so I took a bus to Drammen before getting on the train to Kristiansand. So far, so good.

The train was running half an hour late because of the situation where you had to bus to Drammen first. Okay, so 1/2 an hour to walk around Kristiansand instead of an hour. Still, I was excited to see more of this beautiful country and catch a brief glimpse of a pretty seaside resort town. Finally, a little after 4 in the afternoon, “We are now approaching Kristiansand” came across the loudspeaker. I visited the restroom briefly as the train was coming to a stop and heard another announcement, which I failed to understand because it was all gobbledygook (that is, softly-spoken Norwegian).

I got off and, about 10 seconds before the train set off, realized I was probably not in Kristiansand. The sign said Vennsela. I thought perhaps that was the name of the station in Kristiansand. I looked at the sign with the map and train schedule, but it was in a different format from any I had seen before. By the time I realized I was in a small town 20 minutes before Kristiansand, the train was fast disappearing.

Yeah. So. Tiny town on the tracks, on a holiday when all but the gas station and pizza shack are closed. And it started raining. Perfect. Thank you, state-run railway.

Sweet Vennsela

For the record, someone who had gotten off at this stop told me that the announcement I couldn’t hear while in the restroom (called a "water closet") was actually the conductor correcting the mistaken message that we were approaching our actual destination. I really should get better at the language. Oh well. At least the train is comfy and the scenery is amazing. Next time I’m in the area, maybe I’ll finally see Kristiansand!

Moments like this are best handled with an attitude I first saw years ago when someone told me his story about being scammed by someone selling watches on the St. Petersburg streets. He said, “I didn’t get the watch I paid for; instead, I got a story.”

More Randomness

DemOslographics

People look different here. In Bergen, which was a college / tourist town, people were whiter, fitter, and Norwegianer (it was someone from Oslo who told me that Bergen was more Norwegian, that’s not just my opinion . . . but I share it). The average Bergan (if that’s the right word) is active, fit, healthy, a little eclectic, and outdoorsy. Like someone from the Pacific Northwest, but fairer and European. Osloites (somebody please help me out with the correct label?), by contrast, are chubbier and look like they have lived harder lives. I find that strange, because Oslo is more urban and cosmopolitan. I thought that would be accompanied by more walking and attention to health. Back home, the trend seems to be that city folk are fitter and better put together than their counterparts in the outskirts of town / country. I guess I can’t judge a city when the only thing I have to compare it to is a unique city on the other coast of the same country and several cities on another continent. I don’t even know why I bring this up. Do you like my stream of consciousness writing?

Yeah. I thought not. Next subject.

Røyking

I learned a new trick! I now know how to type “ø” on my keyboard. Rock on, I say. But yeah, røyking means “smoking” (I bought some “røykt” salmon the other day). I’m in Europe, so people do it more here, without being shunned. It is still popular, unlike in Canada and the States. Not as popular as in other parts of Europe, I suppose (I will try to remember to keep you updated on this as I travel more on the Continent), but it’s still more prevalent than in California. And people seem unashamed of it without being simultaneously uppity about it. Others seem not to get up and move away when others smoke around them. Maybe they pity the poor people who spend almost a dollar per cigarette.

Walking

I LOVE a city where you don’t need to own a car! Oslo is one such city. The public transportation is affordable (one of the only affordable things here), reliable, on time, and convenient. It gets you close enough to where you need to go (in fact, the bus stops are sometimes startlingly close to each other). The rest of the time you walk. And even with the public transportation, there is ample opportunity to walk. I love that! It’s free exercise, free air, and it reminds you of where you are. I miss it. Southern California, as I mentioned earlier, is not a walking place. I wish it was. Walking makes one feel alive. I suppose it also helps keep one alive. Hmmmm . . . .

It’s also been bothering my knee, which beforetimes was doing pretty well. When I get back home, I will have to look into this. Silly knee.

In Addition to Walking

The second most prevalent kind of store, after convenience stores, seems to be the athletic clothing / supply store. They are everywhere, sometimes several on the same street! Norwegians apparently spend a ton on athletic apparel, bicycles, skiing gear, and all that. I cannot stress enough how many of these stores dot the landscape. The other day, shopping for a rain jacket, I found 5 or 6 such stores (including duplicates of the same national chain) in fewer than 5 or 6 blocks of downtown Oslo. They are also in all the suburban spots. They are everywhere. These people are active, or at least enjoy dressing like they are.

Frighteningly Affirmative

“Hyeh!” Or so they say.

???

An interesting thing here: the Norwegian version of “Uh huh” or “Yep” or what have you is a strange sounding non-word. To recreate the sound, try this at home: say “Yep!” with a silent “p”. Got that? Now, try it without using your vocal cords. Good, now you’re 2/3 of the way there. Now say it while sharply inhaling instead of exhaling. That’s right, make a sound like a gasp of surprise, as if someone just jumped out and startled you, but include the semi-word “Yea” in the process. That’s what people here say all the time, whether agreeing with something you say or emphasizing something they just said. Even better, to really emphasize a point, they often say “Yeah” after the [inhaled] “Hyeh!”. As in, “Heyh! . . . Yeah.” I once heard “Hyeh! Yeah, yea.”

The first time I experienced this, I was shopping. The sales associate make this sound frequently, and each time I thought something had frightened or shocked her. I wondered what I had said that was so objectionable! Turns out it was nothing. At first unnerving, then irritating, it has now become merely amusing. Hyeh!

I really AM a City Person

In case I haven’t been gushing enough already, allow me to add another assertion that I am a city person. Gosh, but do I ever love living in a vibrant city! These Europeans really know how to make a city into a welcoming and living place. It’s not 100 miles per hour, but it is far more interesting than deep, dark Suburbia. Yet it’s not dirty, nor does it all shut down after business hours are over. Oslo (and, on a smaller scale, Bergen) is a living city. It feels neither deserted nor crowded. It seems like the perfect size. It’s what I’ve been looking for (there I go again). I could happily live here, or in a similar place. Preferably a similar place that has Hawaii weather. Uh, that might not be possible. But life goes on, and so should I . . . .

The Glorious, Indomitable Hammer of the Pagan God.

I had a delicious coffee yesterday. At a café, at the bottom of the menu, after the usual suspects like cappuccinos, lattes, and mochas, stood Torshammer. Single or Double (“Dobble”). I ordered one, because my middle name is George.*

Yes! This is what I look for in a coffee! Torshammer means “Thor’s Hammer”. That Thor, the “god” of thunder. Turns out it’s a regular brewed coffee (which they normally brew quite strong, locally) with espresso added. Dobble espresso, as I ordered it :) Now THAT was a good coffee!! These people know coffee. Italy, step aside.

I mean, seriously, “Espresso Machiatto” versus “Thor’s Hammer”? We know the winner before the contest even starts.

*Curious George, for those who don’t immediately get my algebra.

Voss

I spoke earlier of my visit to the mountainous ski resort town of Voss (one of the spots we drove through in our fjord tour). Why does that name ring a bell? Have you seen those oddly cylindrical bottles of water with the Voss brand? Ta da! They’re Norwegian! Now I know. As do you.

The question remains: do they really come from the town of Voss? I actually don’t know. But the odds are good.

Lawyers on Wheels

Attorneys here get around. So many of our lecturers have had exciting and varied pasts. They start on one job in one town, then move to a better job, then to a better town, then to a better job in a better town. And then to a better job or a better town. Or a better job in a better town.

It seems like this is normal. I guess that in a small country, employment mobility is greater than in a large nation. In America, it’s hard to move into a different area, whether geographically or in practice. Here, they move plenty. I must admit I envy them somewhat.

What is the point of all this? Simply to inform you of an interesting pattern I noticed. Norwegian lawyers have fascinating careers. I could explain more, but I’ve already been typing for too long. If you have made it this far, you’ve also been reading for too long. Get a life! Hyeh!

Black Gold Revisited

Norway is a rich, socialist state. Norway is in the black. Norway has a budget surplus. Therefore, SOCIALISM WORKS!!!!

Or else they have a ton of oil.

Oh, they were the poorest country in Europe only half a century ago, before they discovered oil? Don’t tell your comrades.

Just another thing I learned this week.

Straight from the horse’s mouth.

With slight, tacit emphasis.

Direction (squared) <-- is this math class or a blog?

I did more thinking tonight. Thinking about how much I love learning. Thinking about certain things that fascinate me. Things that I have studied as a hobby and I have wondered why others have not looked deeper into the subject and seen some of the things I think I see.

Just more thoughts. Incredibly inspirational thoughts nonetheless. How fascinating to me that this trip is allowing me to step away from my life a little and see things from a different perspective. Or two. Or three.

Worry not, I’m not about to sell everything and move to a kibbutz. But I am quite excited. Returning to school to study law was just the impetus of direction that my life needed. And now law school might be exposing me to things that are helping to steer me even further in my quest to figure out what I am supposed to be doing here on Earth. It is pretty amazing. It keeps me up sometimes. I am either on the cusp of a personal renaissance or I am experiencing a minor but still fulfilling flash of inspiration. Either is welcome.

. . . within the context of a 30-something married student with responsibilities, naturally. But still. I just want to put it out there: I feel alive.

The Weekend that Nearly Was

I set out today (Friday June 10th) for a spontaneous weekend of awesomeness. I have a Eurail pass that permits a ton of “free” (more accurately, prepaid, so I had better use it) travel, and I thought I would get away from this rainy town and see the rest of the country. I checked the train schedule and saw that a train was leaving for Trondheim (about 4 hours to the north) and, half an hour after it arrived in Trondheim, a night train (where I could rent a cheap cot and sleep on the train instead of having to find a hostel) was leaving for Bodø, which is the northernmost town reachable by train, well, well into the Arctic. Score! I packed a tiny day bag and set out for a super memorable adventure! Surely this would be the farthest north I have been. I planned to take some sunny pictures in the middle of the night.

Problem 1: heavy rains and flooding have stopped the trains to Trondheim, and you have to take a bus for most of the route there. This is FAR less comfortable than traveling first class on the train, which is what I would have been able to do with my pass.

Problem 2: the bus also arrives quite a bit later than the train, which would cause me to miss the train to Bodø. Bye bye, Bodø.

Plan B: take the train to Stavanger, on the west coast, which is supposed to be quite cool. The trip should be quite scenic, too, as it follows the coast and goes through Kristiansand, a sweet tourist town.

Problem 3: the only train to Stavanger today is a night train. This is good! I enquire into the cost of a cot, expecting it to be about $35-50. It costs $150. So no Stavanger, then.

Plan C: just go to Kristiansand; a train is leaving soon and Kristiansand’s really supposed to be a cool town, a hidden gem that mostly locals go to instead of international tourists.

Problem 4: I check online to find a hostel or cheap hotel in Kristiansand. It’s a long weekend and all the locals have apparently booked every bed in town.

Plan D: grab a train for Copenhagen, Denmark. Anything to get away from the rain and have some adventure! The last train to Copenhagen left hours ago.

Plan E: Same for Stockholm, Sweden.

Plan F: take the train to Armpit (that is, a handful of towns that I haven’t heard of but technically have semi-important train stations there). Problem: I would be arriving late at night with no place to stay.

I decided on Plan G: limp home to lick my wounds. I am going to consult the train schedule again to see if there’s something I can do tomorrow morning that won’t require an outrageously expensive night train. Problem # 314: It’s still a long weekend, and now I’m starting late, and won’t be able to make it as far as I wanted. Don’t forget Problem # 315: Tomorrow is Saturday, and fewer trains run on Saturdays.

If all else fails, I’ll do Plan H: get on the local train and explore each metro line from one end to the other, seeing more of Oslo in the process. Who knows, that might be the best trip after all.

I’ll get back to you later. I’m pulling out the train schedule.

(Minutes later)

Okay, 7:25 AM to Stockholm. Let’s do this. What have I got to lose? Either a too expensive hotel or a night on the streets. But at this latitude, night is almost day. Happy with my plan! Still spontaneous (I thrive on spontaneity), yet not reckless. Stay tuned to this channel.

(The next day)

Woke early to do my epic Stockholm trip and . . . just didn't feel up to it. I slept in instead. I tried my explore-town-by-bus-and-tram routine, which was fairly rewarding. The forecast was sunny and warm, with 0mm of precipitation. It rained the whole time. Yay.

No Need for Plan B

Plan A, described in a former post, was to come out of my shell when I hit Oslo (I’m calling it Plan A instead of Plan B because Bergen lacked any plan at all and was a real failure). It has worked! Instead of being embarrassed at my visitor status and bad Norwegian, I have more boldly approached people with a smile (not on the train, of course) and started conversations in English. I still try, after my English greeting, to practice a little Norsk (which is Norwegian for “Norwegian”), with just as much applause from the locals as before. I have fun; they have fun; it’s good. I am feeling more connected, or at least as much as a fish out of water can be. Lesson learned.

And in Other News: it’s time again to break out the point form comments on things I have noticed. There are many such things. Grab a chair.

Rain

It has been better than Bergen, but still uncharacteristically wet, in Oslo. This has been fun to watch. The Norwegians are experts, absolute experts, in dressing for rain. Especially in Raintown, I mean Bergen, people just bundle up in head-to-toe raingear and act as if it’s all but sunny outside. I saw people gardening, hiking, running, cycling (not just in town either, but serious distance road-biking), commuting, shopping, sitting at sidewalk cafés*, you name it. They just put on their waterproofs (often including pants and boots) and go for it. In Bergen, the people are so waterproof they rarely even use umbrellas. Coming as I do from Victoria, a Pacific Northwest rainy spot, I still have yet to see anything quite like it. Even ducks seek shelter from the rain more than these people do. I am duly impressed.

The raingear they wear is also impressive. Gorgeous, even. The locals are unafraid to spend $300 to $600 for a high-tech rain jacket. They even look pretty stylish, with bright colors and modern fits. I saw a ton of expensive brands that you can’t even get back home. Another little piece of cultural education that I didn’t know to expect. My favorite thing is the rubber boots. They found a way even to make rubber boots (AKA gumboots or Wellingtons – I think) fashionable. The girls are all sporting rubber boots with a slight embellishment (hard to describe, but it involves a strap) that actually remind me of the stylish leather boots that all the ladies back home are wearing these days. I don’t know why, but it just makes me smile.

* -- for the record, I am typing this while I sit at a sidewalk café and it’s raining. I’m under an awning, of course. And in my Norwegian waterproof jacket.

And When There’s No Downpour

When the gore-tex comes off, the fashion here is still pretty cool. Norwegians, even in the city, dress in a manner fairly laid back but stylish. I won’t go into it in detail (yawn) but the professional men are wearing slim-fit suits without ties, and it’s really quite a cool look. I wish American lawyers could pull it off without raising eyebrows. I haven’t figured out how the women dress other than to notice that boot-cut jeans and pants either never made it here or went extinct some time ago. Skinny fit is the order of the day (with the exception of an odd prevalence of high-waisted, pleated shorts and pants -- this seems to stem from a genetic disposition the Norwegian women have to carry all their weight around their hips and stomachs. Or it may just be the favored style. I am not about to ask.). And the women seem to wear less makeup. Although I may be wrong about that, since I often fail to notice makeup in the first place. But the look here is more natural. Except for the orange skinned fake tans on many of the women (and men. But fewer men. At least that ratio seems the same as at home).

Finally, the shoes here are more casual in general. Canvas shoes predominate, especially in Bergen, which I found strange because most skate-style shoes have white bottoms. White bottoms in a perpetually rainy town. That takes dedication. Or a scrupulously clean town. I think they have some of both.

Last Fashion(ish) Note

Norwegians wear their wedding rings on the right hand, not the left. I read somewhere that this is common in Germanic and Eastern European cultures. This is also highly convenient for me these days, as my ring has been fitting better on my right hand than on my left, where it is too loose and will even fall off in certain conditions. Score.

(Love to Learn) Squared

I love to have learned that I love to learn. I am enjoying myself so much, and conversing with so many advanced students and professors (here, ALL university professors have doctorate degrees, unlike in the US where master’s degrees and law degrees plus some experience often suffice to land one a professorship) that I have come to realize that the thing I am best at is . . . school. Were it that the world needed more professional students! But that’s a topic for another day. For now, I simply note that I am scheming how to keep studying after my law degree is complete. Anyone who knows how to secure those choice doctoral fellowships, please be in touch :) But in the meantime, I am considering altering my academic course at Chapman. Because this epic summer of study will put me almost a semester ahead in my studies, I may be able to finish my JD degree in 2.5 years, and if things align just right, I could conceivably earn my LLM (an advanced law degree), or at least most of it, in only another semester. A very attractive idea.

I also love to write.
About things I love.

Right.

Sci-Fi Cities

The Jetsons have nothing on the Norwegians. Everything here is automated. More doors open automatically here than anywhere I have seen, other than the USS Enterprise. Even interior doors in buildings. At supermarkets, you walk through little gates that sense your presence and allow you through (an anti-shoplifting measure I imagine). The checkout clerks don’t count your change, either. They feed the paper money into a little machine that counts and stores it. Coins you must feed into another machine. Your change is dispersed to you by the same machine. Moreover, you purchase train tickets in a machine and pass them in front of a scanner when you get on the train or bus. You buy coffee by pressing a button on a machine (even at offices, there is no “coffee pot”, just a coffee machine), you buy tobacco (if you're into that) from a vending machine that verifies your ID, and even laundry facilities (at least at the universities) require a card with prepaid credits on it, which you swipe in a master control panel and select the number of the machine you are using. I’m sure there is more, but this is what I have seen and what I can think of.

* Note from the following day* : funny that today one of our guest speakers spoke on the Norwegian problem of its expensive labor market (the average wage in Norway is 58% higher than in the rest of Europe) that requires businesses to be ultra efficient. I put 2 and 2 together and deduced that a big factor behind all these automated things must be to increase efficiency. When you can only afford 2/3 the staff, expensive machines are still better than expensive staff. Got it.

After a week in Oslo

I have SO much to report! First, Oslo is, surprisingly, even more attractive to me than Bergen was. I thought Bergen was what I sought in a town. Admittedly, it was a little small for my tastes, but I feared that Oslo, which doesn’t as often enjoy reports of “gem” status as Bergen does, would be ruined by being a bigger city. In actuality, it has pretty much everything Bergen has, only much more of it--and plenty of fresh Oslo awesomeness of its own. It doesn’t feel like a big, dirty city. The buildings are still quaint and not too tall (and almost never made of concrete). The people are similarly gracious and even more welcoming of outsiders (quite possibly because a much greater portion of the Oslo population consists of foreigners). Of course, there are more amenities and things to see. Best of all, the coolness spreads in every direction.

Growing up Canadian / American, I came to expect cities to have lively cores decreasing in awesomeness in direct proportion to the distance from their centers. New York is of course not like that, and probably neither are a handful of others. But every other city I’ve visited has been something of a one-trick show. Seattle, Portland, Denver, San Diego, everything in Southern California, Phoenix, Salt Lake City, Denver, Albuquerque, every major city in Texas, Kansas City, St. Louis, Minneapolis, Las Vegas, Omaha, Miami, Montreal, Quebec City, Edmonton, Calgary, Vancouver, Victoria . . . have I missed any? I can’t speak for Chicago, I haven’t been there since I was a kid. The point is, in Oslo, after I got to know the city center, I ventured outside it, walking all over the place. The coolness never stopped. I could walk for an hour and there was still cool shopping, beautiful architecture, and sweet-looking apartments. It’s very easy to love.

Speaking of love, Alissa made me promise before coming here that I wouldn’t come home and tell her that we needed to move to Norway.

Smart girl.

Curses!
MASSIVE PICTURE SPAM HAPPENS RIGHT NOW!!

First: General Neighborhood shots of urban Oslo