My Last Day Being 50

Well, it seems, Kaleb was the big HIT at school today. Morton finally landed several punches on my sweet boy’s little cheek. I guess he cried something awful right after it happened, but by the time he got home and I asked him how his day was, and he said, “Great!” Not one word mentioned of the altercation. Apparently he was the talk of the school after it happened so he kind of liked all the attention he got. The reason we knew about it was because Morton’s mom marched him down here right after school (they just live down the street from us), and made him apologize to us (Kaleb wasn’t home at the time.) The teacher called her at home and told her what had happened and Morton got in as much trouble as you can get here in Norway for that – he was told not to do it again. They have zero tolerance for fighting or bullying, but they have no consequences in place if it does happen. Morton’s mother was devastated and embarrassed and frustrated with him and she came to personally apologize to us and to ask us to please keep her informed of anything else that might happen. Kory and I both felt terrible for her and even for Morton – it seems he’s a victim of his own internal conflicts. He’s the cutest little kid, about Kaleb’s size, blonde hair and gorgeous blue eyes, big smile and not in the least bit “bullyish” looking. All we could do was listen to his mother tell us all she has gone through to understand his “impulse control” problems and how helpless she feels about the situation. We were as sympathetic as we could be and above all else, we want to just show them the love of Jesus and not be upset that the kid turned our sweet boy’s face into a punching bag (apparently he hit him four times, with both fists.) Kaleb couldn’t get away from him because he was pinned between the bikes – which was the reason he got nailed – Morton didn’t want Kaleb to park his bike next to his. Kaleb told me yesterday that he had already received six blows from Morton (a shoe to the head, kicked in the shin, rocks thrown at him, etc.) and if there were any more incidences he was never going to speak to him again. I reminded him that the Bible says we must forgive seven times seventy times, so he needs to start counting, and when he reaches that number then he can do something about it. So when he got home from the after-school program and we asked him specifically how it was with Morton today, he said, “He’s up to ten times I’ve had to forgive him,” and then he went on to tell us about the “fight.” (He counted each blow as a separate incident that needed forgiving.) His face was a little swollen but there is no bruising and I don’t think any lingering pain, so he’s fine. We just thank God for how Morton is refining Kaleb’s behavior, as He promises that “all things work together for good,” and Kaleb has stopped picking is nose because of all this (something I’ve been trying to get him to do for years). And we’ll trust God too that Morton might stop being so “impulsive.”

Last night our neighbor (Sabina’s mom) invited us over for coffee and banana splits. It was all very formal – fine china, candles, table cloth, soft music - the whole nine yards (Norwegian are REALLY into ambiance). We had a nice visit with her and Kory talked a bit with her about how God teaches us the most during difficult times. She was very receptive to what Kory had to say. We also signed up to be in a home fellowship group through Agape Church, and tonight we went to our first meeting and Sabina’s mom came with us! It is a great group of Pentecostal people (8 women and 3 men) and we sang, prayed, ate and talked about what an “attractive life” means to us. They call them “connect groups,” and I must say, I feel well connected after that.

So today was my last day being 50 years old and any number higher than that feels a bit daunting. Maybe the blessing in forgetfulness that comes on with age, is that all the years just run together and we forget to keep count. I don’t just want to get older, I want to get better, as they say. Last year at this time I was in Greece with my girlfriend Cathy and we were enjoying ourselves more than a person should, and now, I’m living in Norway – yet another dream come true. Life is good.

(The photo today is of Saturday night’s sunset near Trondheim. I thought it was an appropriate photo considering the step I take tomorrow into the “sunset years” of my life – over the hill and rolling down it fast.)

An Almost Ordinary Day

We all got a decent night’s sleep and we’re back to normal now. Kory was up early to go to his carpenter job today then had to work a little overtime. Kaleb was off to school, then soccer practice (see photo – he’s the one in the light blue shorts and shirt under the red vest). He was beaming again today because he got his “Weekly Test” back and he scored another 100% (27 out of 27). He was also in high spirits because today FOR SCHOOL, he had free reading time in the library AND swimming lessons. He considers both of those incredibly fun leisure activities so he came in laughing about what constitutes “school” here. And as for me, the house is clean, clothes are washed, and dishes all put away. It’s so nice to live in such a small place and have a place for everything to land. There are no side projects – yet --and life is as simple and routine as it gets. I do fear however, that our eating habits will become a bit too routine, as the selection of foods available to purchase here is pretty limited. More than once we’ve had the standard fish-potato-carrot dinner because that food is plentiful and relatively cheap. I guess if I cooked lamb, we could vary the routine a bit, but then I’d have to throw it all up and waste the money spent on buying it. (I refuse to eat cute animals.) Surprisingly, chicken is hard to find here but every type of pig product is in abundance. We try to eat “heart healthy” food, which doesn’t go too well with what you can buy in Norway, aside from fish. Norwegians all eat basically the same kinds of foods and their idea of variety is, “Do I put goat cheese on my piece of bread today like every other day or should I shake things up a bit with a little salami (pølse)?” I’m sure their thinking is, “If there is no bread, it’s not a meal,” but at least the bread here is to die for. Norwegians buy fresh bread each and every day. There are even fresh bakeries inside most of the gas stations here because gas stations are the only thing open on Sundays and heaven help them if they had to eat day old bread.

In class yesterday the teacher gave us the basic Norwegian shopping list: bread, potatoes, fish, goat cheese, eggs, liver pate (the kids here eat it on bread like American kids eat peanut butter), milk, juice, coffee, jam. It would be hard to find a house in Norway that didn’t have every one of those items in it. And they eat jam by the scoop – I guess that’s how they get most of their fruit requirements. The size of the jam jars they sell here are of the “Costco” variety – which really makes them stand out because everything else is so darn small (a mayonnaise jar for instance, is about a third the size of jar of jam). When we’ve stayed with Odd and Turid in the past, I’ve seen them go through a whole jar of jam (about 2-3 cups in volume) in just two days. Norwegians aren’t big on fresh produce (especially salads) but they do eat a lot of carrots, potatoes, rutabagas and cauliflower for dinner and red bell peppers and cucumbers for breakfast or lunch (set slices of one of those veggies over some yummy white cheese on a piece of fresh bread and there you have my favorite Norsk meal.)

We continued our lesson on Norwegian foods in class today. The substitute teacher commented about certain foods and which ones last longer than others. It’s a big concern here and why so many fresh produce items aren’t available – because they won’t survive the trip this far north. She also told us about some foods that become poisonous after a while. Of course she was talking only in Norwegian, and I heard a word that she used the other day when she was talking about families (we had to learn the names of family members that day.) The word that caught my attention was “gift” (pronounced “yift.”) It’s the Norwegian word for “married,” but as we all learned today, it’s also the Norwegian word for “poison.” I brought up the irony of that word being used for both “married” and “poison” and asked her why that would be - and I got her to think a minute, but she was not able to answer my question. There are several Spanish speaking students in our class too, so I also pointed out that the Spanish word “esposa” means “wife,” but it also means “handcuffs.” I’m not liking these associations one little bit, but I must say, it makes them easier to remember – kind of like the word “but” in English is “men” in Norwegian. There are so many things to remember… I do what I can to help the process. But why “child” is called “barn” in Norwegian, I have no idea. I know as a kid, my mom used to ask me if I was “born in a barn” when I left the door open… so maybe there’s something there -- she is full blooded Norwegian, after all. We studied weather words today too, and if it’s cloudy they say here it’s “skyet” (pronounced “she-it”). Here all these years I thought my mom was swearing when she’d say a certain naughty word in a certain way, but as it turns out, it seems, she was just talking about the weather.

Back to our Routine

Both Kory and I were beat this morning, having stayed up until after midnight to see the Schaubs off to Bergen. A nap was so in order once we got home this afternoon. Kaleb was even dragging all day but I’m sure tomorrow we will all be back to normal. He was off to school by 7:30am and his day was almost without incident (he swears he never picked his nose today but Morton still kicked him anyway). Kory did heavier work than he wanted today - erecting scaffolding and hanging gutters. At least it wasn’t raining and he is thankful he has a job.

It seems I didn’t miss much in class on Friday, as everyone I asked couldn’t tell me what they learned that day. Personally I think they are all just tuned out, as our teacher Inga is still gone and everyone is complaining bitterly about all the substitutes. All these substitutes must have gotten their start teaching Kindergarten, as one of them had us singing “Row, Row, Row Your Boat” one day – complete with hand motions. Today the teacher had us stand up and do the Norwegian version of The Hokey Pokey as we were learning the words “right” and “left.” Personally, I think it’s all quite fun, but there are several in the class who wouldn’t agree. I guess some people have just lost touch with their inner child. Today we also learned some words for food and some prepositions – on, under, in, behind, stuff like that. I’m realizing the time Kaleb and I spent learning Latin last year is also coming in handy as there are many of the same principles we studied then that are quite helpful to me now.

After speaking so much English this last week, my brain hurt to try and say even one word in Norwegian today, but I have no shame, so I keep on trying. Norwegians are very encouraging when it comes to people trying to speak their language so it makes it easy. If they laughed at me or constantly corrected me or were at all snooty like the French, I’m sure I wouldn’t be so bold, but I’ve got nothing to lose here so I approach the language with reckless abandon. On the bus ride home today there was a foreigner getting on the bus and he said “tax” to the bus driver but she had no idea what he was talking about. Finally he said, “Moa” (an area here) and she said it was the right bus, so he got on. He sat by me and in very broken English asked if I knew where the tax office was. I did know, so I told him I’d point it out to him (it’s next to a store called “Jysk”). We had a little conversation and I found out he is from Paris and he is here for two months to work in a fish factory so he needed to register with the tax office. He didn’t speak a word of Norwegian. I asked how he was able to get a job without speaking Norwegian and he said his boss speaks English, but he will work in a fish factory, so “you don’t need to speak anything there,” he said. I thought that was funny. I wasn’t sure of the exact bus stop he needed so I approached the bus driver and spoke very slowly (carefully picking my words.) I said, “Jeg vet ikke bus stoppen for buttiken Jysk. Han skal gaar til skat office.” I think I said, “I don’t know the bus stop for the store Jysk. He wants to go to the tax office.” The bus driver very quickly responded in perfect English and said, “Ok, I’ll stop there.” I guess the fact that I used the word “office” was the first clue I spoke English – as that’s not a Norwegian word (but I didn’t know the right one) – but the pace in which I talked was also a dead give-away. At least I try.

(Today’s photo is from this past weekend in Trondheim - all of us standing in front of the Nidaros Cathedral.)

Heading Home

After our deluxe hotel breakfast this morning in Trondheim, we headed back home to Aalesund – via an inland passage so there were no ferries to catch or tolls to pay. It was not as scenic as the coastal route we took north, but it’s hard to drive around any parts of Norway and not have something incredible to see. Willy did nod off a bit, as parts of the trip looked so much like Northwestern Washington or Idaho that it verged on being ordinary (and we always thought those states were so beautiful). The amount of varied terrain we went through though was just incredible – from rolling green hills with farms that dotted the landscape as far as we could see, to heavily wooded mountain passes and rocky rivers paralleling the road. Some places even had the feel of what the moon might be like – just flat bare rock with little growth visible. The scenery was most interesting the closer we got to home however, because by all accounts, Aalesund is the most beautiful city in all of Norway.

The photos today are of Trondheim with the church (Nidaros) that sits atop Saint Olav’s grave, and a mountain near Andalsnes that nearly sits atop the house that is barely visible in the shadows at the bottom of the picture. On our last leg of the journey we turned off at Andalsnes and instead of heading straight home the quickest way, we took the more scenic route as we wanted to give Nancy one last thrill before leaving us. We knew she isn’t very fond of heights, but there is a road called “Trollsteigen” (The Troll Trail) which we felt she needed to experience up close and personal. The road snakes straight up this incredibly high mountain, weaving back and forth so much we were comparing to rides at Disneyland. It’s only one lane too, but cars are both going up and coming down. There are little turn-outs all along the way so it’s possible to pass each other if someone is willing to back up. I am thankful we didn’t encounter any tour busses, however, because that scares even me. Nancy came close to dying of fright, but she saved herself by not looking down when she peered out the window (there isn’t much of a guard rail either). It is quite the experience, and one that everyone should have when they come to Norway. We were so thankful Kory kept us all alive, especially after he had such a long day of driving. But there was no danger he’d fall asleep on that road, as it’s white knuckle driving all the way. When I stand at the top of that mountain and look way down into the valley so far below I think, “Only a Norwegian would think it’s possible to put a road in such a place.” We all know that if the rest of the world says something is impossible, Norwegians will find a way to do it. (And we just try to love them anyway.)

It was a great day for a drive and we were thankful it wasn’t raining as we stopped for our picnic lunch along the side of the road. Fast food restaurants are not the norm here, nor are restaurants in general. We drove for seven hours straight and saw maybe two or three cafes, but none were open on a Sunday in such remote places. (I knew that would be the case so we were prepared and didn’t go hungry.) Willy and Nancy treated us to dinner out (a luxury we won’t afford ourselves here) once we got safely home to Aalesund. Then they took the midnight Hurtigruten ferryboat out of Aalesund down to Bergen and then after spending a day there they take the train to Oslo for a few days before flying back home. Considering they are in Norway only 12 days, they have seen an incredible amount and will have seen four of the major cities here. It has been so much fun to have them with us – and we hope this year we get other company from America as well. Nancy brought me treats from home like baking soda and pure vanilla extract, books written in English and real brown sugar. And to be able to talk non-stop in English has been the biggest treat for me, as everyone knows how much I like to talk! When I talk to anyone here in Norway I have to pick the easiest words to say, and speak slowly so I know I’m understood… and even that takes a huge effort on my part. So it’s been just like “old home week” for me. My Norsk teacher told us that on the average, immigrants go through a huge depression after being here three months because they miss their friends, their food, their culture… but I think my timer just got re-set -- so I’m good to go until at least Christmas.

Mission Accomplished

We did it! We found the farm where Nancy’s grandfather who immigrated to America was born and grew up (see photo). His father was the “husman” (indentured servant) on the Nervig farm just a bit northeast of Trondheim in the Selbu Kommune – and why we made this pilgrimage here. It took longer than we expected to drive to it, as we didn’t know it’s exact location and the farm doesn’t go by the Nervig name anymore. We stopped at several places to ask for additional information and finally we hit upon a wonderful guy that “happened” to have a map of all the old farm names in the area so then we could pinpoint its location. We were a bit disappointed that the owners of the farm weren’t home at the time, but we didn’t let that stop us from having a picnic on their property. Nancy had goose bumps the whole time and was a bit teary eyed. It was a sweet moment and we took lots of photos. Whew. We were worried the sun might go down before we hit the jackpot, but God lead the way. And before the sun DID go down, we got the directions to the nearest church (built in 1150AD) and walked through the graveyard looking for any sign of her great-grandparent’s grave. We didn’t find them, but we found a lot of possible relatives with that name, (it was still fun to look.) That church is where her ancestors have been married and buried for several generations. Oh what a day.

We started the day off in church as well – getting a tour of the old Cathedral here in Trondheim – also built over 900 years ago. We had a wonderful history lesson while there on Norway’s conversion to Christianity by “Holy Ole” (Saint Olav). He is buried under the massive cathedral in Trondheim – which is considered the most religious site in all of Scandinavia. As the story goes, Olav was a vicious viking king who tortured many people, so when he converted to Christianity, he used the same vicious tactics to get the attention of his fellow countrymen -- “Convert or die” was his motto. He wasn’t too popular of a fellow in his day, but upon his death, the legend goes, people who visited his grave started getting miraculously healed. After one year and five days in the ground, they dug him up to move his body in order to build a church over it - and his body was still completely preserved, right down to his rosy cheeks. "Healing" water sprang up where his grave had been, so pilgrimages to this area soon became the norm. For hundreds of years, people from all over Scandinavia and Europe came to his burial place to receive miracles and this city became the religious center for Northern Europe. Kings have been coronated here for centuries and it's still the place for passing the royal baton, as it were. After the Reformation in the 1500s the cathedral went into ruin for several hundred years but slowly emerged from the ashes, and has become the grand spectacle that it is to this day.

We walked around the core of downtown Trondheim for a little while and ran into people we know from Aalesund! Man, Norway is a small country! Our little neighbor girl Sabina and her mom were in town for a dance recital she had today (and they are staying at the same hotel we are), and we also saw a couple that is on the worship team at Agape Church – up for the weekend to show a friend the Cathedral and to do some shopping at Ikea. Too funny. We also found ourselves as a “loppemarket” (flea market) where we hit the mother lode of cheap items. We were able to buy skis, poles, ski boots and ice skates all for five dollars each. We also got a bunad (the traditional Norwegian costume) for Kaleb and a bunch of kitchen items I really needed – all at incredibly cheap prices. Woo hoo. There was a sign by where we parked the van that said not to leave valuables in the car so I suggested we bring our haul into our hotel room. Kaleb said, “I wouldn’t exactly call these ‘valuables’.” And Kory thought it was funny that we paid more for parking than we did for the items we bought.

Traveling to Trondheim

I’m trying not to feel too guilty about the fact I skipped school today. I just had an incredible amount of work to do to get ready for our big road trip north, that I couldn’t see the logic in leaving the house this morning. I’m sure everyone in class “got on” fine without me and I’m so thankful I had extra time to pack up the van (our sweet liberation vehicle.) Kaleb was the only one out the door early this morning. The rest of us had a leisurely cup of coffee, cleaned up messes, packed our things and ate real American pancakes for breakfast. I also made the Norwegian Svela pancakes to take with us, as that is standard “road food” around here, so it will be lunch tomorrow. We were so efficient working together that we had an hour to spare before Kaleb was off from school so we took Willy and Nancy down to our closest sandy beach park and they walked around and took a few more dozen photos. Everywhere is so picturesque that Nancy said, “It’s like a smorgasbord for the eyes.” And Willy is trying to understand why the whole world doesn’t live here because it’s just so darn gorgeous. They haven’t yet grasped just how much God is smiling on them this week with the sunshine we’ve had everyday – which is certainly NOT the norm for Norway. (My Norsk teacher told me the umbrella is the national costume for Aalesund.)

We picked Kaleb up from school right at 1pm and headed out of town on E39 (a major highway by Norwegian standards) all the way to Trondheim, which only included two ferries, two toll roads, a few bridges and at least a dozen tunnels (some more than a mile long.) It took almost seven hours to get here but we stopped a few times along the way to have snacks and/or take photos. (The above photo is Willy and Kory talking during one of our snack stops.) One spot we stopped had a ceremonial rock monument that was set in place prior to the year 800AD – a meeting spot where one of the early Vikings met with the local farmers to have them unite under one kingdom. As the bird flies, Trondheim isn’t that far from Aalesund, but when you factor in the road is one lane in spots and we needed to back up a ways when a large truck was heading right at us, and that there were few passing lanes, but farm machinery and big trucks ahead of us, we made good time traveling an average of 40-45 miles an hour. Willy was in awe of the journey as he just loved all the remote farms with barns and houses up on the hillside overlooking the fjords. He started dreaming of owning a farm in Norway someday… but I’m thinking if Nancy can just talk him into painting his own barn at home the same shade of red as the barns here, they might feel close to having that Norsk farm feeling without the expense.

Kory, brave soldier that he is, drove the entire way -- although Willy might disagree – he swore I was doing the driving. Kory got a lot of “input” regarding his style (too fast, too close to the edge, too dangerous of a spot for passing…) but overall his heart held up fine during all the sudden shouts of terror coming from the back seat. (Nancy and I were the ones in danger of having a heart attack at times, however.) Kaleb just sat and read a book the entire trip. I had restricted him from re-reading Harry Potter this weekend because he wouldn’t put the book down and get ready for bed last night, so this morning he said he wanted to bring an “equivalent” amount of reading in other books. I suggested he just look at the number of pages in the Harry Potter book and find books that equaled the same pages. He said to me, “No, I don’t go by pages, I go by weight – where is a scale?” And he then proceeded to weigh his Harry Potter book and then find enough books to equal it – which he brought along for the trip. (That kid cracks me up sometimes.)

After we landed at our hotel, we went out for a late dinner in the core of the city at a (coincidentally) American restaurant. Willy and Nancy were so happy to eat pizza but Kory was a bit sad there was nothing Norsk on the menu. Everyone got their fill and they are all now sound asleep, but I’m so excited our hotel has internet access that I’m sure I’ll be up all night.

Norsk Mat (Norwegian Food)

Our dear teacher, Inga, was absent today. She had to go to Oslo to help write an English competency test for some board she is a member of. (I’m sure it would include the grammatical rule that you never end a sentence with a preposition, like I just did.) She was sorely missed. The entire class was in agony over our substitute that didn’t speak much English and was unable to answer most of our questions because she didn’t seem to understand our “dialect” of Norwegian either. I ended up being the “go-to” person so everyone was asking me all morning, “What is she talking about?” and I had to explain the concepts to them. But I have to say, they were not pleasant concepts. We were continuing our work on the use of articles with the different genders of nouns and she was getting in to all the exceptions to the rules. Ugh. And after tremendous effort identifying masculine/feminine/neutral nouns, she then told us that the entire city of Bergen has decided to give up the feminine gender of nouns and they just use neutral or masculine. But, she said, since we live in Ålesund, we must follow the proper rules of grammar and know all three versions. Not fair! (I fear we might lose half the class to Bergen after that bit of news, as the toughest part of this section of grammar are the exceptions that go along with the feminine gender of words.) And the teacher spent a great deal of time explaining the many different ways you can say “it,” (which has to do with the gender of the word.) I’m sure Bill Clinton must be part Norwegian, as after today’s lesson, it would be easy to understand his confusion over the meaning of the word “it.” “It” can be written “den” or “det,” but you also use those words for “this” or “that.” I’m afraid I’m in too deep.

Willy helped Kory load up all the junk that was left behind in the garages here and they hauled it off to the dump. Hallelujah! Kory then drove the Schaubs out to Solevåg, to show them where his mom was born and then out to Langevåg to show them where he grew up. They visited the sweater factory there and Willy got a nice Norwegian sweater as a souvenir of his trip. After lunch Kory took them out to the islands that dot the edge of the coastline here and they got to take in more incredible scenery on yet another gorgeous day. Nancy found some driftwood and rocks that suited her for a souvenir as they were FREE (they are still in shock over the prices of things here --I spent $30 the other day on two loaves of bread and a head of lettuce.)

The biggest thrill of the day was having dinner at Tante Karis (see photo). She makes a mean “poteteball” (potato dumplings). Kory asked her if she wouldn’t mind treating our guests to his favorite Norwegian food. In Kory’s opinion, you can’t come to Norway without eating Poteteballer. Kari’s son, Odd, got wind of the fact that she was making it, and he and Turid showed up for dinner, too. Good thing they did too, so someone ate up the inventory, as there was a lot of pressure on Nancy, Willy and I to fill our plates. (One was plenty for us though.) We had Marzipan cake for dessert so we didn’t go home hungry. (I asked Willy how he liked the poteteball and he said, “I’ve eaten worse.”)

Kaleb sat for over an hour doing his homework this afternoon. I was so proud of him looking up words in the Norwegian dictionary that he didn’t understand and writing the answers to questions in Norwegian. It’s OK for now (according to his teacher) that he writes his answers in English, but he is taking up the challenge and doing it all “på Norsk.” He’s working out of a 4th grade reader book. His teacher has ordered him a 2nd grade reader to help him learn things from the ground up, but I’m afraid by the time the book arrives, he’ll already be at the 4th grade level, as it doesn’t seem to be too difficult for him at all. He so impresses me with how quickly he’s catching on.

I talked to Victoria’s mom in my class today and she said her daughter (who is the American girl in Kaleb’s class) just “adores” Kaleb. Good to hear. Kaleb also told me he’s now made friends with the kid with the red cast on his arm that was trying to do him in earlier this month (we have been praying for that boy!). His biggest challenge yet is to get Morton on his side (another kid getting lots of prayer from us). Apparently Morton has problem with impulse control, but Kaleb hasn’t gone to school with him since day one like the others, so it’s taking a while for them to get used to each other. (He’s the kid that threw a shoe at Kaleb’s head last week.) Well, Morton is having his birthday party tomorrow and when he handed out the invitations he was NOT going to give Kaleb one, but the teacher made him do it (as is required). Today Kaleb said that Morton kept telling him NOT to come to his party tomorrow. (Kaleb said he just laughed at him because he can’t come anyway as we will be in Trondheim this weekend.) Kaleb likewise doesn’t want to invite Morton to HIS party in December, but by then, I’m sure they will be best of friends. I finally talked with Morton’s mom tonight and asked her what Morton’s side of the story is, as I only hear Kaleb’s side. We’ve been racking our brains trying to figure out why Morton doesn’t like Kaleb as Kaleb claims total innocence in doing anything to him. She finally told me (after much prompting) that the problem stems from the fact that Kaleb picks his nose in school, and for some reason, that just gets to Morton like nothing else. So there ya go, I have a nose picker for a kid and he’s getting picked on in school because of it. (Kaleb happened to be picking his nose at the time I broke this news to him as well.) Uff da.

And Yet Another Beautiful Day

We are juggling regular life with having company so things are a bit out of whack for me this week. We would like to indulge the Schaubs as much as possible but Kaleb and I still have to go to school and Kory still has to work, so Willy and Nancy were up early this morning in order to take the bus with me into town to see all that Aalesund has to offer. It’s a small town, so it was good I was only in school four hours. They walked around downtown, went to the Aalesund Museum and later to the Sunnmøre Museum, and after we got home, we went for a walk down to “our” beach, which is where today’s photo is taken.

Right after school we walked over to the only second-hand store in town and Nancy bought a few small things and I got a great old painting for 200 kroner ($40) to hang on the wall in the big empty space in the living room. I was thrilled not only with the bargain price but that it’s a painting of the fjords, mountains and grass covered cabins by the water. I couldn’t wait to show Kory, and when I did, he thought right away there is a chance that his dad might have painted it! His dad did a lot of paintings in the 1940s (this painting was dated 1949 but not signed). His dad was a carpenter by trade but the Germans were requiring all the carpenters to do work for them during the war and Halvor (Kory’s dad), didn’t want to help them in any way so he registered himself as an artist. He sold some paintings but gave most of them away. Kory thinks the painting looks a lot like his dad’s style, so we’ll investigate it a bit more and see if we can solve the mystery. It would sure be a “God Thing” if Halvor did paint it, as Kory didn’t end up with any of his dad’s work. (But a few years ago a friend of Kory’s heard we didn’t have any of his paintings and they had one Halvor had painted of their dad standing by a cabin, so they gave it to us.)

Today in class we started learning about the gender of words and how to make nouns plural. The gender matters greatly because that determines which “a” or “the” you use with it. For a masculine word you use “en” so to say “a” or “the,” so “a car” would be “en bil” or if you want to say “the car” you attach the same article to the end of the word instead of putting it before the noun and you would say “bilen.” If you use a neutral word you would use “et” for the article instead and you would say “a table” as “et bord” or “the table” would be “bordet.” And if the word is feminine, well, that’s a whole other story. (Is it a coincidence that the feminine version of a word has all the exceptions to this otherwise easy rule?) I think I might develop an aneurism over this one as there seems to be too many exceptions to keep it all straight. The worst part is there is no way on earth to know what gender words are – they basically suggest we just memorize the entire dictionary so we will know for sure. I want to cry. It would be so nice if all I had to know how to say is “Hello” and “Good-bye” because all this other information about how to carry on a decent conversation is going to be the death of me. Maybe that’s why Norwegians as a whole are so tight lipped? It might just be easier for them to keep quiet about things than to try and remember all the rules of grammar and risk sounding like an idiot when they carry on a conversation.

Kaleb had a field trip today to the beach. All the fourth graders walked an hour to get there and an hour back and they were gone the entire day – no other school work. He failed to tell me about this ahead of time however, so when all the other kids brought their hot dogs to roast, their beach towels, swimsuits and beach toys, he was fully clothed in jeans, long sleeved shirt and tennis shoes with nothing to change in to or put on the grill. Only after he got home and started complaining to me about how hot he was all day (it was in the high 70s), did he realize he only had himself to blame for not giving me the information. I guess this is how children learn to be more responsible. He’s still a bit clueless on some things that go on at school but he is improving rapidly in his ability to speak the language. It’s so impressive to listen to him. I wish my brain worked like that. It seems we are both a bit forgetful, however….

Kory spent the day working at his caretaker job so he took two more loads of grass to the dump. It was a very hot day so he was incredibly tired by the time we came rolling in. He mustered up enough energy to make us all a dinner of fiskeboller (fish balls), however. Nancy and Willy had never tasted such a thing before, but they loved it, nonetheless. We are so wanting our company to experience as much of Norway as possible and eating all that “special” food is part of the experience. It wouldn’t be much fun to come all the way to Norway to eat American food, so it’s with great pleasure that we serve them food that I wouldn’t eat in a million years. (It’s not how I usually treat company, but we’re in Norway now, so we must do as the Norwegians do.)

Road Trip to Geiranger

Well, today Willy and Nancy got to see the best that Norway has to offer – Kory took the day off work and drove them out to Geiranger, which is the most visited spot in the entire country. The photo today is not of Geiranger because Nancy didn’t like the looks of her windblown hair in the photo Kory took of them there, but it’s of one of the four ferry ports they waited at. Willy and Nancy slept through this wait – which goes to show how tired they were from our hike up the mountain yesterday. Kory said they were completely overwhelmed with the beauty of the drive and the ferry ride through the fjords that they almost had to close their eyes and not take in anymore because it was just so incredible. God gave them another beautiful day in which to see our corner of the world so their pictures are spectacular. Nancy says, “It was like being home for the first time - like a feeling that this is ‘my’ country. And I thought we had a corner on beauty in Washington, but this is way beyond beautiful.”

I went to school today and overwhelmed my brain again with additional nuances in the language. We got our first test back yesterday and out of 97 points I got 88, so it was as low of an A- as a person could get if they are academically minded. There were seven other people with scores better than myself, including my partner Vestina, who got a 91. (We were trying to guess who got the high score of 95.5, but no one has fessed up yet. We think it was the doctor from Germany who sits behind us.) Vestina was devastated she didn’t get 97 and I told her it’s like the competition between the Norwegians and the Swedes – the Norskies don’t care if they win, they just care that they beat the Swedes, so she shouldn’t worry about not getting them all right – she should just be glad she beat me. I don’t think it was any consolation though because I’m sure she thinks it wouldn’t take much to beat me in this game (she IS 22 years old and her brain is still working.) Then we had a little spelling test and out of 30 words, the highest score anyone got was 18, and I got a 17 right (a few more than Vestina!), so I felt fairly good about that, but I still have oh so far to go. The letters are so hard for me to remember since the letter J sounds like a Y and the letter I sounds like an E and the letter G sounds like a J, and the letter Y sounds like an E -- but you have to be able to hold a pencil on your upper lip when you say it - stuff like that. It’s hard to shed old habits.

Kaleb got his first test back too – he took the same one other kids in his class took – the “weekly test,” which covers all their subjects. It had a little English, a little math, a little Norsk (identifying verbs, nouns, adjectives, etc.) and a little spelling. Out of 29 possible points, he got 29, (no one can beat that kid) so he was incredibly proud. I was impressed as well and asked him how he did it. He said he had to get one paragraph translated in order for him to figure out which were verbs, nouns, etc., but once he knew the meaning of the word, he knew what it was. He also had memorized the spelling list, so even though he didn’t know the meaning of those words, he knew how to spell them. I like his style.

I was so excited about getting fresh coffee from America yesterday, that I absentmindedly drank a cup of it at 8pm last night so I didn’t fall asleep until after 1am and had to get up before 6am. I have been more than tired all day. The night before last I only slept about two hours because Kaleb and I shared the air mattress and he’s yet to learn about keeping to himself when he sleeps. He’s a heat seeking missile and I am the target.

They Made It!

Not only did Willy and Nancy make it to Norway after a life of dreaming of such a trip, but they also made it to the top of the nearest mountain! (See photo.) He is 71 and she is 67 and they made ME fell like an old lady as they had no trouble at all hiking for five solid hours (but maybe tomorrow they will feel it a bit.) They got to sleep in this morning while we were all off to our tasks for the day so when I came home from school I took them for a “little walk” up the mountain – Norwegian style. I don’t think they expected to go up nearly 5,000 feet in one afternoon, but I just kept telling them we were “almost there.” They didn’t complain a bit, but Willy decided I might be a good used car salesperson as he now doesn’t believe anything I say. Really, if a person is in fairly good shape they can make it up in about 45 minutes, but I always see people checking their watches at the start of the trail as they like to better their time and a lot of locals run up. And if you ever tell anyone around here that you went up to Høgkubben, the first thing they ask is, “How much time did you take?” We only took 90 minutes, which is pretty good, considering I was along. I think Willy could have done it in 30.

Up top we met the local “Incurable Mountain Man” as he is called. He’s been written up in all the newspapers around here many times as he is 78 years old and he hikes up that mountain everyday – no matter what the weather. He said the snow will be three feet deep and he’ll be the first one to the top – making the trail for others to follow. Last year he climbed it 340 times, sometimes four times a day and he’s made his own private trails to go up and down to vary the scenery. He even hauls the rocks to set on the path and carries a small pocket saw to cut down incredibly large trees that have fallen over his trails. He’s also hiked up to the top of every peak we could see from up there as well. He has taught himself English and hadn’t spoken a word of it in five years so he was thrilled to have some Americans to talk with. I spoke to him in Norwegian (impressing Nancy and Willy too, I might say), and he said my Norsk was as good as his English, but I think he was much better. Turns out we know many of the same people and he said his second cousin (with the last name of Hustad) is a well-known organist in America who has gone on tour for years with the Billy Graham. He offered to show us one of his trails on the way down so we followed him, not knowing just how long it was going to be. Had we gone on the main trail we took up, we would have been back home in an hour, but going on his path took three hours! It was very beautiful though but we were completely spent by the time we made it home. Kory had a whale of a dinner waiting for us too, which was good, since once I sat down, I wasn’t getting back up again. He had to drive the three of us the half mile over to Odd and Turids for a visit, good American coffee (that they brought with them!) and dessert, but I declined his offer to carry me to and from the car. Uff da.

A Fun Day

Oh, what fun we had today! We went to Agape Kirka again today because Sabina, the neighbor girl wanted to go with us – but we were also pleased that her mother came along, too! So we all walked together down the street on this absolutely gorgeous “fall” day. Apparently it was “kick-off” Sunday throughout Norway as the churches all had a special pot-luck afterwards and at Agape, there were lots of activities for kids – with a clown making balloon animals and someone else painting faces. The congregation also presented the pastor with a new podium and side table (for his water glass) made by a welder (very sleek looking scan design). The pastor was very shocked and quite pleased with it all.

Kory and Kaleb stayed on for the social hour afterwards but I just grabbed a quick bite and headed home. (There was more food there than at a Royal Fork Buffet -- it must be where the Lutheran’s got their start on pot-luck socials as I’ve never seen such a spread of food.) I had to get home and set out the food for our own party and right at 2:00 we got company. I made sure everyone knew it was “An American Party” so they wouldn’t come formally dressed or expect a formal seating arrangement. When I told Ketil, one cousin, that it was “American,” he said, “Should I just show up in my underwear then?” as he was poking fun at how incredibly casual we are in America about things. I even planned ahead and brought paper plates (something you would only use here if you were at the beach), and I dared to set out plastic forks and cups (but I set out regular ones too just in case someone was offended). I was so worried that I spent all this time making some special things to eat, and no one would like my combination of flavors, as most Norwegians like food fairly bland (except for those nasty sausages). But as it turned out, the food was a HUGE hit and everyone ate seconds and thirds and wanted recipes and kept asking “You made this?” like it wasn’t comprehensible to them, for some reason. So we enjoyed an absolutely beautiful sunny afternoon out on our “deck” at the sinking houses (you can see just how much they have sank in the photo – just below the beige siding they have added extra skirting to keep children and pets from going under there.) We ate, we laughed, we soaking up some sunshine. Turid commented that it was good to bring laughter back to this area as there had been so much complaining and negativity since the ground started moving. Everyone that walked or drove or rode their bikes by, turned their heads a little bit extra hard today to see who in the world would be having a party HERE. And the only thing I’ll do different next time is to be sure to have enough coffee! I completely underestimated the amount of coffee that 20 people could drink in one afternoon and I ran out! About then, people started going home. (I still had pop and beer and wine though, but without a cup of coffee in their hands, the conversation nearly died.)

We had just enough time to clean up and head to the airport and pick up Willy and Nancy Schaub. Their flight was an hour late so we got to drive around the island of Vigra a bit and watch the sun set. Beautiful place. And finally, the Schaubs arrived – looking VERY tired and surprised it was such a long journey to come here (Willy hadn’t slept a wink in about 30 hours). I had saved out a sampling of the food I made for the party today (good thing I did as everyone devoured it all), so they got a plate of left-overs before crashing for the night. What a day!

A Lovely Day

We finally got rid of the rows of “hay” in front of our house! It looks so normal now around here you might not even realize we are on sinking sand. We’re trying to get ready for the party tomorrow and company tomorrow night, so the rush is on. Kory used the crates our boxes came in to make a bin in which to stack the grass. We borrowed a little trailer from the farmer cousin at Solevaag to haul the whole thing to the dump. (I’ve only seen one pickup truck in Norway. Everyone just has a trailer hitch on the back of their vehicle and they all use these tiny little towing trailers with sides about eight inches deep to move stuff around.) So that was our morning. Kaleb enjoyed jumping on the piles to compact the grass and Kory said it reminded him of his childhood during hay season – riding in the wagon as the hay was piled on at his mom’s family farm at Solevaag.

This afternoon we attended a wedding (see photos) – the son of Rune, Kory’s cousin. It was held in the beautiful state church for this area called Borgund Kirke with all it’s ornate woodwork inside and little doors going into each pew. It’s the same church where Kory’s ancestors have been christened, confirmed, married and buried for many generations. It was quite lovely and I enjoyed seeing the similarities and differences from American weddings. They had the groom’s side and the bride’s side in the church like we do, but no ushers to seat you. One big difference is that there is always just one for each the bride and groom. The groom and best man were up front before the service began, sitting on two chairs that are perpendicular to the audience but face over to the bride’s side.

At exactly 2:00 the church bells rang for about five minutes to announce to the world there was a wedding taking place. While the bells were ringing, the bridesmaid rushed down the aisle (with no flowers in her hand), and quickly sat on a chair on the brides’ side of the church, facing the groom and his best man. When the bells stopped, you could hear a pin drop, and then as the doors opened up in the back of the church, a trumpet sounded --which I wasn’t expecting and it startled me a bit as it did a great job of breaking the silence. After the trumpet sounded, the organ music began (the huge pipe organ was up in the loft above the entrance door.) I’m pretty sure the music they played was the same song we play when the wedding is OVER – as it sounded very celebratory and not at all like a bridal march. The bride walked at a reasonable pace with her father down the aisle, then he left her at the altar as she went and sat down next to the bridesmaid. (The bridesmaid got up and helped her with her dress so it looked nice as she sat there.) The wedding party stayed seated up in the front nearly the entire wedding (which lasted almost an hour.) The entire congregation sang “How Great Thou Art” (Norwegian version), then the pastor said many things about the couple, some of which was funny (I could tell by the laughter), and some was a bit serious. Then a song was sung by a friend of the couple in English and then finally the couple stood together in front of the pastor to say their vows. I could hear the familiar words, “Vil du Bjørn-Endre …” (Will you, Bjørn-Endre…) and then a loud “JA” (yes) came out of his mouth a couple of times, and the same with her vows, and then the “kyss” (kiss). (There are no rings exchanged during the ceremony as they both put on rings when they got engaged.) Then the bridesmaid stood up and sat over on the groom’s side with the best man and the groom sat next to the bride on her side as we all sang “Amazing Grace” in English, and then the sister of the bride sang a beautiful song in Norwegian. Then the couple stood up again and the pastor announced the couple to the congregation and everyone clapped and they walked back down the aisle incredibly slowly, nearly stopping at each row to look at everyone (and to let everyone take their picture). The family was not too far behind them and then the rows dismissed themselves in order, front to back, and everyone greeted the couple just inside the doors of the church as people filed out. When everyone was outside, the bride and groom came outside the doors, and the groom very ceremoniously closed the church doors behind him and they stood there, hand in hand, up on the church steps, while everyone got a good look at them and took photos. Then the wedding party joined them for a minute and more photos, then the parents of the bride and groom joined them for the last set of photos. Everyone lingered around the base of the steps for a few minutes, greeting one another and then the couple left in the car. (I asked someone what happens if it’s raining outside, if everyone stands there with umbrellas and she said she’d never been to a wedding where it rained when they came out of the church – must be God’s blessing on the happy couple.) Then everyone went home.

An interesting thing about the formalities of Norwegian weddings is that there are really four different types of invitations that go out. When the couple puts their wedding announcement in the paper -- that invites the entire community to come to the church to watch the wedding. Special invitations also go out that announce the wedding and invite the closest of all family and friends to the reception afterwards (usually a few hours after the ceremony to allow time for all the formal photos to be taken.) Often there aren’t more than 20-30 people at this event (we weren’t invited to this part). The reception is an incredibly formal affair with a sit down dinner where servers bring out the food to the guests and everyone has their assigned seats. (A very expensive endeavor, I’m sure.) Each person at the reception is expected to give some kind of speech about the couple, which most have brought with them and they read them (sometimes they are pages and pages long). Many in attendance have written poems about the couple that everyone sings to some familiar tune. Usually the songs are very funny about some of their quirks, or how they met. All the songs are printed in the song book which is sitting at each place setting (as is the order of the service for the entire reception.) In the case of today’s wedding, the dinner was served at 5:00pm and the speeches follow. Then at 9:00pm the next phase of the reception kicks in – the “not as close” friends and family show up – as they got a different invitation to the reception, and that was just for “cake and coffee” at 9pm (sometimes that event doesn’t always start on time if all the speeches took a bit too long). Then there are more formalities, more speeches and perhaps some champagne. The entire event is structured and there is no side chit-chat or standing around -- everyone is sitting down paying attention to whoever has the floor giving the speech. The entire reception will last until probably two in the morning, maybe longer. It’s not unheard of for the reception to last until the next day and no one leaves early. (In Kory’s dad’s day, he said the receptions lasted for days, as everyone who knew the couple had to give a long speech and it was rude to have anyone leave before everyone had their say.) Then the next day there could be an additional party that is more casual and all the left-overs get eaten and the gifts get open. I’m not sure they are having that party – as it’s an optional deal. So, if you ever get invited to a Norwegian wedding, don’t make any other plans for that day (or the next).

A Different Language

OK, so I think my brain has reached maximum capacity when it comes to learning this language. I make little inroads then I get so overwhelmed with the details I just want to shut out the sounds and take a nap. Today we had the whole run-down on “ny-norsk”(pronounced “nee-norske”) and “bokmål” (boo-k-mol). You see, it’s not enough for these people to just have dialects to keep them from clearly communicating with the outside world, they also have to have the “old language” (which ironically they call “new norweigian”) “ny-norsk” – which makes me wonder what was in place before that one), and the newest version of the language they call “bokmål.” – (book language) which is the one used on TV and in newspapers and mostly taught to children in school. But for some reason, they still offer classes in the children’s schools in ny-norsk and those classes tend to be smaller in size so a lot of the parents put their kids there - for what purpose, I’ve yet to figure out. The two big differences I’ve noticed in the languages (with my limited scope of things so far), is how you count and how you spell. Kory learned things in ny-norske so he taught Kaleb to say the number “seven” as “syve” (pronounced “seeve”) but in the newest version of the language for instance you would call “seven”, “sju” (pronounced “shoe”). You also spell the word “one” differently – in one language version you spell it “en,” in the other, “ein.” I’ve yet to comprehend the reason why this country teaches both versions when they are obviously trying to migrate to the newest one… but such is the logic of the Norwegian people.

The biggest challenge for me, with my limited “ear” to hear what people are saying, is that if you talk in “bokmål” you will say your numbers like the American’s do – “twenty-seven.” But if you are an old timer (like Kory) and you speak ny-norsk, you say it “seven and twenty.” And that little “and” (“og”) is so hard to hear sometimes! If I’m in a store and I ask someone how much something costs, I could hear that it’s “72” kroner, when it really is 27 – big difference. So I’m getting good at looking at the age of the person talking and if they are older than me, then chances are good they are speaking ny-norsk (they didn’t switch over to bokmål until the 1960s.) It’s just one more thing that makes this language just so darn special, and why perhaps they only have four and a half million people living here (and most of them speak English.)

Our teacher today said the average size family in Norway now has just 1.4 children in it, so they are in a declining mode (except for the immigrants). She said there are 50,000 abortions every year here as adoption is not part of their culture. They can adopt children from outside this country and raise them up here, but I heard someone else say there are no adoptions allowed of Norwegian children to anyone. If you give birth – it’s yours for life. (But they do have a foster program for children whose parents have serious problems.) I know Norwegians are very worried about the loss of their race, as so many immigrants are coming here and so many Norwegian men are marrying non-Norwegian women. One of the hot-spots for Norwegians to go on vacation is Thailand and as a result, there are many men that go there and bring back Thai wives. There are more Thai women in my class than any other nationality.

On another note, I’ve been shopping the last few days to get food for the “Thank-you party” we are having Sunday afternoon for all the cousins who loaned us furniture. It’s a challenge to stock up on things since there is so little space in the frig, but cousin Odd (pronounced Ode) loaned us a freezer to put out in the garage (which Kory “organized” today). It’s a HUGE blessing to have the freezer, so now I can take advantage of things on sale and have food on hand if someone drops by. Kaleb made cookies yesterday and I made banana bread and we froze them in our “new” freezer. We feel so spoiled with all the luxuries we now have!

The one luxury we don’t have (intentionally) is a TV. People think we are nuts that we don’t watch TV (we have one, but it’s just for watching DVDs.) You not only pay monthly for the cable connection here, but you also pay hundreds of dollars annually to the government for their public stations, plus a personal tax for owning the TV. We borrowed the TV and if we don’t hook it up to anything, it costs us nothing. (The photo today is of Kaleb sewing – something you do when there are no other entertainment options.) Odd thinks kids will make fun of Kaleb in school if they find out he doesn’t watch TV. (There are a lot of things people do here simply to accommodate peer pressure.) Odd also told us how important it was that Kaleb have the “right” backpack for carrying his books to school or he will be humiliated and he won’t “fit in.” I wasn’t going to spend $100 on the “right one,” so he is just using the new one we brought from home that cost $15, and so far, I’m not aware of any permanent damage to his psyche. However, Kaleb did say he got hit in the head yesterday by a shoe… or was that a seven?

Immigrant Life

We took our first test (prøve) today in Norsk class. It’s only been two weeks and we are good! I think I did pretty well, but won’t know til Monday. I’m sure I did better on it than my “leksa” (homework) this week. Over the weekend we had to write another essay about someone besides ourselves. I wrote mine on Kaleb, as every good parent would. It came back with an incredible amount of red pen marks on it, but at least I got a “BRA!” (Good!) The problem was, according to the teacher, I was writing things that were far beyond the beginner level and she suggested I try to keep things simple to start with. You can’t keep things simple if you are writing about Kaleb, I know that for sure, but I also was trying to stretch myself. I thought it would be boring to just write sentences based on what I’ve already learned, I wanted to write sentences that were a bit of a challenge for me – and they were – and it showed (in red, no less). But she did say the paper was “spennende” (exciting) to read, so there ya go.

My biggest problem so far with the language is understanding people when they talk. Maybe I’ve always had that problem, even back home, but here, I feel like an idiot. Marit, an elderly neighbor, rides the same bus as I do each morning. Sometimes we sit together and mostly I do the talking to practice my Norsk, but when she talks, I can’t understand a word she says. She even talks slowly but I just can’t hear the words. This morning I had her write down what she was saying and I understood it perfectly when it was written – but the dialect is so strong here that if I hear one word I’m unfamiliar with my brain just blanks out. Example – if you want to say “I don’t know” you say, “Jeg vet ikke” and that sounds like “Y-eye vet ik-ka.” But people from Aalesund, say “vetcha.” How is a person ever supposed to know what VETCHA is? You certainly won’t find it in a dictionary. And all the question words like “what,” “where,” and “who” (spelled “hva,” “hvor,” and “hvem” – but all properly pronounced with a silent “h” “va, vor, vem”), they say here in Aalesund “ka,” “kor,” and “kem.” So in most cases with the students in our class (see photo), Norwegian is at least their third or more like fourth language, but when you factor in all the dialect we have to learn, it ups it one more notch.

I went to the library during lunch so I could read about the random shootings in Skagit County this week. Hard to comprehend. There are certainly no guarantees in life and only God knows the number of our days. I pray each one of mine count so that if I have an unexpected trip to heaven one day, I will hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

The big news here in Aalesund is the weather forecast for next week – summer shall return (it’s sunny today, too) and it is supposed to be in the seventies all of next week. I can only attribute that to one thing – the prayers of Nancy Schaub. Nancy and her husband, Willy, are arriving in Norway Sunday night from just down the street from where we live in Mount Vernon. She e-mailed me that she’s been praying for good weather, and I know God loves her very much so this is the result. HALLELUJAH! They have never been to Norway before and we are thrilled to be getting company and sharing our corner of the world with them. I asked Kaleb if he’d like to skip school one day next week to go sightseeing with all of us, and he just started crying. I guess it would be considered child abuse at this point to keep him out of school. But then he went on to tell us about all the antics of the kids in his class and it upsets him greatly that they do mischievous things (like locking the door to keep kids outside), or not following the rules to certain games. It’s interesting to watch him integrate into “the real world.” He’s had a fairly protected environment up til now.

Kory enjoyed the day home alone and he made us a hallway bench to sit on while taking on and off shoes. He went dumpster diving at work one day and came home with a very nice coffee table someone had thrown out which he re-made into a bench. It’s fun to be immigrants. There is no shame, no peer pressure, little money in the bank, so we just make do with what we can get for free. Kory is reliving his childhood as he said it was a regular occurrence when he was a boy after they moved to America that his dad would take him down to the dump to go “shopping.” Life is good.

Communication Problems

I had a chance to pray with one of my classmates today. Sandra is 44 and from England. Ten years ago she met a Norwegian working in England, fell in love with him, sold everything and moved here to be with him and she couldn’t be happier. She now wants to become a Norwegian citizen, but in all those ten years, never learned to speak Norwegian and she thought it was silly to try and get citizenship without knowing the language, so she’s paying to go to school to learn Norsk. Her and her husband have wanted a child for many years, but they have not been able to conceive. The Norwegian government believes she is too old now to be a mother so they won’t allow her to do any kind of artificial insemination here (it’s socialized medicine so the government picks up the tab for everything). So tomorrow Sandra is flying to Latvia for the procedure on her dime. I asked her if I could pray for her, that things would go well, and she’d get pregnant, and she said, “Of course.” So today during lunch we had a little prayer meeting and we are trusting God for the miracle of a baby for her. She’ll know in two weeks.

We woke up yesterday to the blackest skies I have ever seen. Just after I got on the bus, all the clouds broke loose and a torrential downpour ensued. All I could think about was that Kaleb only had on his rain jacket, and not his rain pants, and how wet he must be getting while riding his bike to school. Turns out he got completely drenched and he had to change into his gym clothes once he got there and wear them the entire day (his solution). So this morning, he made sure he had on all his rain gear before venturing out (see photo). He IS a quick learner (and we packed an extra set of clothes so he can leave them at school, just in case.) Aalesund is famous for “skifte vær” (shifting weather). By yesterday afternoon, I had to put on shorts and a short sleeved shirt as it was downright hot, but today it’s been solid rain. Kory’s boss stopped and bought him a complete set of Helly Hansen raingear after work yesterday, as they worked on the roof today. Poor Kory – he only wanted indoor finish carpentry work and he came home cold to the bone, dog tired, and not at all in a good mood.

Today was the day we went to the mall at Moa to sign up for a home phone and internet access! Hallelujah! It might take ten days, they said, but at least I know it’s coming. And they had a back-to-school special so they threw in a new laptop for free. Unbelievable. I’m not sure what all it can do, but we’re saving it for Kaleb’s birthday. It has a Norwegian keyboard so he’ll need it for school work as that was one thing they stressed at the parent’s meeting last night – kids need internet access – in 4th grade, no less. We left Kaleb at home and Kory and I went grocery shopping afterwards.

In grocery stores here you have to insert a ten kroner coin ($2) in the handle of the shopping cart to get it unlocked from the bin, but you get it back when you re-lock it (this keeps carts from wandering off). So we took our cart down to the underground parking garage and unloaded everything into the van. I walked up the ramp to return the cart, and just as I turned around to look for Kory, I saw the van driving away - out another exit. Kory left the garage without me! I waited awhile and when he didn’t come back I figured he was just super tired from work and forgot he was with me (it’s not beyond the realm of possibilities with him), so I walked over to his aunt’s condo (about 700 feet away) to use her phone and call him (I left my cell phone at home with Kaleb). Turns out he thought I said, “I’ll meet you upstairs,” but what I had said was, “Can you get me up there?” – where the carts were at the top of the ramp. So it was just a big comedy of errors (aka “communication problem”) but not so terribly funny when we were both so tired. It’s not like we were speaking Norwegian or anything and I just picked the wrong words like when the aunts were here on Sunday. I thought I said to them (in Norwegian) “You’re welcome to come back ANY time,” but what I said was, “You’re welcome to come back NEVER AGAIN.” I wondered what the puzzled look on their face was – but Kory quickly corrected my choice of words. Uff da.

"I'm likin' this life," says Kaleb.

Kaleb was thrilled this morning that his fever broke and he was feeling well enough to go to school. He felt it was bad enough being sick, but it made it all the worse that he had to stay home from school because of it. Kory was off to work for the day and I was off to school. During break today in my class, Mai, from Thailand, again offered me a taste of her snack. “I make. You try,” she said. I asked what it was. “Ga-lic bacon. I make. Little salty. Bacon salty. You like.” I tried a piece and it was packed with flavor but I can attest to the fact it had the opposite effect of a breath mint.

Tuesdays are a long day for Kaleb. He goes to the afterschool program til 4:00 then has to hurry home and change into soccer gear for practice by 4:30. Tonight he had to come home to an empty house as he doesn’t finish until 6:00 and Kory and I had to attend a parent’s meeting at his school from 6:00 til 8:00. I was a bit distressed about leaving him alone to get his own dinner and take a bath, but we had limited options. Our dear Turid, who we count on to save us time and time again from such quandaries, is in Rome this week on an art tour (she’s an artist and is going to art school). Kaleb asked me to write down “the rules” for him being home alone. I left a piece of paper on the table that said, “Make your own rules,” and we came home to the scene in the picture today – him floating in an overfull tub, munching on an apple and reading George Orwell’s Animal Farm. Too funny.

The parent’s meeting was quite interesting, although they talked so fast neither Kory nor I understood much of what was said. It was a meeting held for all the parents of kids in the 4th grade. There are 90 kids that age at his school so they have broken them into four classes. They listed all the teachers and assistants for 4th grade and I counted 16 employees on the list. Each group has a main teacher but then they have specialized teachers in gym and swimming, Norsk, English, handwork (sewing and knitting), art, and religion. They mentioned that they were under some special mandate from some entity in Europe that they could NOT just teach Christianity in the schools anymore – that they had to teach other religions and cultures and world views, but they were still allowed to follow Christian traditions and celebrate Christmas and Easter and other Christian holidays. They went over the kids schedules and how the days are structured. They said when the bell rings, the children come in from outside and take off their outside clothes (jackets and boots, etc.) and they line up and wait for the teacher to come get them and escort them to their area. Instrumental music is playing as she greets each one every morning and they shake hands with her and give her a greeting as well. They break off into different groups throughout the day for different subjects and they are each assigned a partner to work with for some weeks so that by the end of the school year all the kids have worked one-on-one with all the kids in their class. They also have groups of five that work together on different projects. (I noticed half of Kaleb’s math book pages were not written in and he said, “Because we did the work in the other kid’s book.” You are not an island in this country – it’s all about working together to solve problems.) Kaleb’s teacher said he is an absolute delight to have in class and is a very quick learner. The other parents were thrilled he was there too so their kids can practice their English – so all in all so far – he’s a hit. Yahoo.

The funniest thing about the meeting was that all the parents had to put on these little “footies” like surgeons wear over their shoes in an operating room. Norwegians care deeply about the condition of their floors. (All the kids have to bring indoor shoes to school that have never been worn outside and they change into them when they come in from outdoors. And all their gym shoes have to have white soles so they don’t leave black marks on the floor.) They have baskets of these footie things at every door at the school and even if you stop by to pick up your kid, you put the footies on when you come into the building (unless you want to leave your shoes at the door like they do in all the houses.) So it was hard not to just giggle the whole time at the sight of everyone wearing these blue colored bags over their feet, walking from room to room and listening to this very important information about the future of our children.

A Fine Fall Day

It was 79 degrees today in Aalesund! I wasn’t sure if I was having hot flashes or if my classroom really was hot, but I was overdressed for this day, nonetheless. Kory stayed home from work with Kaleb as he had a fever again this morning. Kory didn’t want me to miss any of my class since they are moving so quickly through the material. He can work any two days he wants so it didn’t cramp his style to stay home and I think he was glad to just hang out on such a sunny day.

W e have 28 students in my Norsk class, from 18 different countries but English is a language we all can understand and speak (some better than others). It makes for some interesting coffee breaks. I have had the chance to talk to a few of the people in my class and they each have a story I find quite interesting. The woman that sits behind me is from Germany. She’s 31 and is a pediatric doctor, her husband is a dentist. The Norwegian government solicited them to come work here because there aren’t enough medical professionals here. (German dentists are the norm, I guess.) The woman that is my partner and sits next to me (we get to practice our pronunciation together) is from Lithuania. She is 22 and came here with her boyfriend to work also, but on the opposite end of the scale from the doctors and dentists. Many service jobs and fish factories hire people from Eastern Europe to do the grunt work that no Norwegian citizen wants to do. My partner, Vestina, works in a fish factory. Then there is the woman from the Ukraine who met a Norwegian on the internet and moved here to marry him. (They only speak English at home and she can barely speak English.) They’ve been married a year now and they still act like love birds (I saw them together during lunch one day). He’s a balding forty-ish almost okay looking guy and she is an early twenties hottie. These Norwegians aren’t dumb, that’s for sure.

Today, during break, Mai, a classmate from Thailand, offered to share her snack with anyone brave enough to try it. She had some apple slices she was dipping into something, and then eating it. The “something” was a mixture of sugar, salt and a dry Thai spice mix. I tried it. It was better than a cup of coffee to wake me up. She said people in Thailand always like to have a little “hot” with something sweet. Boy, she’s not kidding. No one else that tried it asked for a second slice, but I did. I only had five hours sleep last night (I was up after midnight helping Kory get out his report on The Sinking Houses), so I needed the extra “wake-up” call. I think I’ve moved to a new level of respect in the class now as everyone looked at me in awe as I took the second bite.

The photo today is of the harbor I walk up and down on my way to school every day. Every day there are fishermen that tie their boats up to the dock and sell fresh seafood right on the spot, caught that morning. Twice a week a guy is there with cooked shrimp; today it was a guy selling whole torsk (a type of cod). I could smell the boat from blocks away. I watched him fillet those fish in no time flat while the lineup of old men waiting to get the goods continued to grow. He had sold out and was gone by lunchtime. It’s all part of the charm of being in a sea town. I love it.

Kory was raking up grass tonight and found a huge hunk of mica in the yard. It’s a very cool type of mineral or rock or something that peels off in layers. It used to be used for the “glass” on old lanterns, as it won’t burn, and when the layers get peeled apart, you can see through them. Certain parts of Norway have mica everywhere. I guess this is one of them. I only remember one mica mine in New Hampshire in all our travels around the US and I was fascinated by it. I never get tired of all the things God has put in nature for us to enjoy.

The Three Tantes

Kaleb woke up sneezing this morning, which was soon followed by a runny nose and fever. He was down for the count and laid on the couch all day (missing out on yet another birthday party). Kory went to Filadelfia Kirke without us. Sabina came over, wanting to go to the Agape church right after Kory left. I told her Kory was gone and that Kaleb was sick, but she could ride her bike down there and go without us. She asked if it cost anything to go and I told her that it was free. She then asked if the cake afterwards cost anything and I told her it cost ten kroner (and worth every kroner I might add – best deal in Norway). She looked a little disheartened so I asked her if she would like me to give her ten kroner ($2) to buy cake and she perked right up. I gave her the money and off she went to church -- all by herself. That was easy. I wonder how many other folks would head off to church if they knew they got cake afterwards (believe me when I say even if you aren’t a church going type person, it’s worth sitting through the service just to have a piece of a Norwegian cake afterwards.) I saw Sabina later in the day and she was happy she had gone, so it seems she’ll go again, and I do hope she does.

I tended to Kaleb all day, ironed, vacuumed and made dinner. We invited the three “Tantes” (aunts – Kory’s mom’s sisters) over for mid-dag (dinner). It seems fitting they were our first dinner guests since they are such fine old ladies. (L to R in photo: Tante Aslaug, Tante Kari and Tante Ruth – she’s the one that lives in our condo.) They couldn’t have been more impressed with our place, and how “koselig” (cozy) it was. Tante Kari wondered how I knew what to bring since I didn’t know what furniture I was going to get and everything matched so perfectly. (God did that – not me.) They think our living situation is more than a miracle and they were just shy of genuine shock over the whole situation. They squealed for a very long time over every detail, (including my ability to converse with them in Norwegian) and again at dinner over all the things they tasted. Tante Kari had never eaten yams in her entire life (she’s at least 80) and she wondered if I added food coloring to them to get them that color. I’m glad they were so pleased as it was a genuine challenge to make that meal. I brought along my Cuisanart food processor so I could make some of my favorite foods like Potato-Cheese soup. It needs to be pureed and I discovered too late that it was a waste to bring that machine. The electrical converters I brought to deal with the voltage differences between America and Europe only go up to 85 watts and that food processor sucks at least 110 watts so it blew out a few fuses before I gave up trying. I served the worst looking soup in my entire life as I tried to puree it with a hand mixer but the carrots just wouldn’t mush up like the potatoes. I apologized all over the place, but it still tasted good so I was off the hook for presentation. Then I made this Lemon-Blueberry bread that is to die for but I haven’t gotten used to the difference in Celsius and Fahrenheit ovens and I cooked it too hot so that the top burned and the innards were raw. I was quite frustrated with the whole thing but thought I’d serve it anyway because I had no other options and all the stores were closed. I just served it with a little Vanilla Sauce on the side (it’s a good backup plan for any dessert you’re not sure of), and the Tantes all raved about how good it was (and yes, they all covered theirs with Vanilla Sauce.) Like I said, they are fine old ladies.

Another Saturday Doing Chores

I went grocery shopping yesterday on my way home from school to spare me the Saturday rush around here. They haven’t gotten the old time/motion thing down when it comes to traffic patterns either in parking lots or in grocery aisles, so I couldn’t bear to go to the supermarket today -- although we did have to run errands to buy a kitchen light for over the table and a portable heater. The weather is a bit dreary today so we decided both light and heat would be a good thing. We’ve yet to go into town for anything where we haven’t run into someone related to Kory. It’s fun to see family everywhere we go.

Kaleb spent the day reading. He said, “I’ve never read an entire series in one day before,” so he’s been glued to the couch (and sitting in the car) devouring one book after the other in an effort to read all seven books in his McGrowl series by sunset (it’s been raining all day). It’s not much of a challenge for him as he reads faster than anyone I know, but I guess it’s the novelty of it all. He also learned how to sew this week in school so he was anxious to make himself a rice bag for tonight, which he just completed. (We have a bunch of them back home but we didn’t bring them.) They are just a sock filled with raw rice and sewn shut. You put them in the microwave for less than two minutes and they heat up nicely. He then uses the heated rice bag as a foot warmer when he goes to bed. They are also great thrown over your shoulders if you have a little tension or if you want to warm up quickly. We brought lots of new socks with us as we plan to make them for Christmas presents this year (I hope none of the cousins are reading this!)

There is a måtfestival (food festival) going on in downtown Ålesund this week. I’m glad I went through the booths after class on Thursday as yesterday the streets were jammed packed with people and today, I’m sure, they will be worse. There were some entertaining chef competitions going on (who could make the coolest looking uncooked food?) and all kinds of food displays and samplings to be had. If you are into nasty tasting (and looking) sausages, cold smoked (jellish) salmon, or whale meat, you would have felt like you hit the jackpot. There was a whaling ship pulled up to the dock selling the fresh meat right off the boat and there was a guy selling stir-fried whale meat to-go (see photo). While walking through the festival I managed to get a free cup of coffee and a few chocolates and then I was happy to escape the aroma. I swear, you could put anything in a brown colored tube and put the word “pølse” at the end and Norwegians would eat it. They have big ‘ol coils of sausages in the grocery stores you just grab and yank off however much you want and pay for it by the kilo. They are as crazy about their pølses as they are about their cakes and vanilla sauce. I was offered more than one sample of some type of scary looking sausage at the festival and not wanting to offend the guy I just said (in Norwegian) “I don’t eat meat.” This one kind man who heard me, offered me a taste of Rømmebrød (cream bread) and said, “There’s no meat in this,” and I thought heaven came down and landed on my tongue. I bought two boxes of those little cookie type delicacies and am using all the restraint I have not to eat them before next week. We have some American company coming and I want them to taste the BEST Norway has to offer. (If it were up to me, I’d just serve breads, cakes, Vanilla Sauce and cheeses, but Kory and Kaleb would heartily disagree – they like all those dead animals sliced and diced and stuffed into little packages.)

YAHOO!

We got our person numbers today so we are now super official Norwegian residents and we can order internet and phone connections in our house! Woo hoo! (I just hope it doesn’t take another month for them to be installed….) Kory had to show his work/residence permit to his boss this week and his boss said that the permission we got was very rare and super hard to get – the hardest of them all. I’m not sure what all that means, but he was impressed. I know we never have to leave the country and I know we can keep that permit if we return before one year is up when we do leave, but other than that, I’m not sure of all the details. I guess we’ll find out. One time when I was in the Alien office there were some people in there asking for permission to leave town. They were just going to another part of Norway, but they had to get permission to do it. I’m pretty sure they were refugees so they must keep a tight leash on those folks. We are “free to move about the cabin” as it were, now that the seatbelt light has been turned off.

I will be most thankful for an internet connection as I didn’t realized how addicted I was to it until I didn’t have it every day. Just something simple like trying to save a file in a PDF format was a nightmare. Kaleb’s publication – “The Weekly Puppy” was due to be published today and for the life of me I couldn’t get it to save in the right format. (We’ve never attempted to publish it from my new laptop before with all the latest versions of software.) Without access to the internet to research why it wouldn’t work, I was lost. So, we prayed. And last night, for some reason, a message just popped up on my computer (I’m sure it was from God, but it was written by Microsoft), that said there was a “fix” that could be downloaded from Microsoft’s website that would allow the PDF format to work. How that message popped up, I’ll never know, as I had done the same thing dozens of times and it never appeared, but the minute Kaleb and I prayed about it, the message showed up. (God is so good, as he knew I was about to pop a cork over all the time I spent trying to solve that problem.) So today I went to the library to get on the internet and I downloaded the fix and saved the day and we got “The Pup” out on time. Whew.

Kaleb had a fine day at school today and was so proud he got nice comments written on the homework he got back. He was invited to another birthday party tonight by a kid in his class and he came home with a tummy ache from all the pølse (hot dogs) he ate. (It’s expected that when you have a party you invite all the kids in your class of the same sex.) Kory spent the day being the helper guy– he helped me with a few honey-dos and he helped his cousin Odd by putting up some trim work around his new basement ceiling. And I had another good day at school as we learned some very practical things like how to say “first, second, third,” etc. In America, we can write out “first” or do the “1st“ thing, but here, they always write 1. or 2. or 3. The period after a number indicates it’s 1st 2nd 3rd and you pronounce those numbers quite differently, so I need to practice them. And we learned the secret in pronouncing vowels: if there is a single consonant after the vowel, you stretch out the sound of the vowel, but if there is a double consonant of the same letter, then the vowel sound is short. This is very important, when say for instance, you are asked what you want for your 18th birthday and you say “bil” (pronounced “beeel”) which means “car”, but if you didn’t stretch out that “e” sound, and you said “bil” you would end up with a beetle (bille) – and not the Volkswagen kind either. Our instructor is not only teaching us proper “bokmål” Norwegian, but she also points out how the local folks pronounce the words with their special dialect so when we are out on the street, we can understand what in the world they are saying (fat chance). There are over 400 dialects in Norway and it’s not uncommon for Norwegians to not even understand each other. I found it interesting that our teacher works so hard at getting us to say the words properly, then she said, with so many dialects, it would be OK to just make up our own. Seems to me like that defeats the purpose of learning the proper pronunciation in the first place, but hey, I’ve got no problem having Dialect #401 being known as “The Mickey From America” one.

(Today’s photo is a different view of our Sinking Houses and all the grass I cut. Our house and garage are behind the ones visible.)