More Museums, Treats and Walks

Since my last entry, we've seen all or part of four more museums, as well as visited the largest park in Oslo, strolled through a much more clearly immigrant section of town (where someone asked us if we wanted to contribute to a mosque, and where David bought some pakoras from a street stand), participated in a "River Walk" in celebration of the autumnal equinox, and been treated to an overnight in a beautiful hotel an hour outside of Oslo, where the entire anthropology department and staff gathered to discuss changes in their program (as a result, I believe of pressure from the state to get students out faster).

We've been to the Resistance Museum in Akershus Fortress, the Museum of Contemporary Art (with very serious and up-t0-date commentary on all the stages from abstract expressionism through minimalism to contemporary conceptual art), the Historical Museum (only made it through the first floor--earliest settlements through the Vikings through the medieval period) and another museum of contemporary art, the Astrup Fearnley Museet. The latter was probably the most eye-opening and enjoyable because of an exhibit of contemporary Chinese art called "China Power Station, Part II." I had talked briefly with an anthro student whose subject was contemporary Chinese art and she had tried to explain, in response to my questions, that, yes, contemporary Chinese artists consider themselves connected to international postmodern art (installations and the like), but they are also unique. Seeing this exhibit helped us to understand just what that meant. Much of the exhibit was digital and oddly humorous. There was a video about a group of friends who buy a used car and try to travel to China's borders to "infiltrate" them with toy remote control tanks and other such "military" toys. Seemed very tongue-in-cheek indeed. The display included all the many items taken on this trip--packaged soup, underwear, toothpaste, etc. There was also a video of a spider exploring what seemed like a couple of naked human bodies (up hills, into crevasses--you get the picture), which, accompanied by jolly music, was almost laugh-out-loud funny. And among the nondigital pieces there was a wildly listing "city" consisting of famous buildings from many places (e.g. the Pentagon), all constructed out of pigskin (sewn, it appeared). For a city of half a million people, Oslo seems remarkably well endowed with cultural opportunities. And it's very walkable (throngs of people out on the weekends, lots in the museums and parks) and has a very good system of trams, buses and trains as well.

The weather is slowly getting a bit cooler, with more gray and rainy days. I sometimes feel I don't want to go out (spoiled Californian that I am) into the chill, but discover that I am stripping layers of clothing off once we've been out for a while, walking briskly. One of our recent walks was in Vigeland Sculpture Park which contains 212 striking sculptures--depicting humanity in all its aspects--which was started in 1924 by Gustav Vigeland. I've included an example above. The more markedly "immigrant" section of town we walked in is called Grønland--best Salvation Army thrift shop I've ever seen, but in spite of a half hour spent browsing in it, no sale!

On September 20, we were invited by a woman in the anthro department to join her and, as it turns out, two young daughters, as well as her friend and her young daughter, on a "River Walk." Apparently, the occasion was a celebration of the autumnal equinox. The mayor--or was it a candidate for the mayoralty?--inaugurated the ceremonies, emphasizing (apparently), the themes of light and warmth, important as the year turns toward the dark. We were told there were 30,000 people present. The entire length of the riverbank was studded with candles, various performers were situated at intervals, as were displays (including trees decorated in aluminum foil) created by schoolchildren. There were choirs, drummers, a rock band, but most spectacular were the fire-eaters who performed at the opening ceremony. These guys were stripped to their waists showing off their elaborate tattoos and were remarkably good at dancing with flaming torches, swallowing flame, running fire all over their bodies without apparently singeing themselves, and looking just a little bit demonic. See the picture, taken by David, above. The fire-eaters were among the most professional acts. The whole experience felt pleasantly medieval. And rather small-townish, though Oslo has half a million inhabitants. It was a mild night and we enjoyed our brisk hour and half walk downstream on the bank of the river Akerselva--now an environmental park (cleaned up from industrial pollution)--which has quite a few rapids and waterfalls.

A couple of days before our River Walk we were treated to an overnight at a hotel about an hour away from Oslo in Holmsbu, as guests of the anthro department. The setting of the hotel, on Oslofjord, was beautiful and peaceful. Picture above. I understand that some of the women actually went swimming in the ocean (brrr!), but I contented myself with a swim in the slightly-heated pool and a warmup in the jacuzzi. Once again, there was scrumptious and abundant food. It was a smoked salmon lover's paradise (several kinds), and there were, as well, mussels, shrimp and what looked like miniature lobsters (though David gave up on his, unable to gain entry), not to mention a variety of salads and meats, and very-bad-for-me cakes. We were told by folks that we would get tired of the food at these events because it was always the same, but, alas, that doesn't seem to have happened yet.

I got to talk with several faculty and staff members. Once again I got the impression (and was sometimes told outright) that Norwegian women don't worry about combining career and motherhood because of the benefits they receive in this welfare state. In fact, because of these benefits, it would appear, the birthrate (unlike in other European countries, such as Italy) is quite high. Take a look at http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/europe/4786160.stm We certainly have noticed that parenting is totally accepted in the academic world. It seems to be expected, for example, that everyone will leave at around 4 o'clock; that is when children get picked up from daycare.

Least you think I am waxing too idealistic about all these attractive aspects of Norwegian life, I will add a bit of ethnographic detail that moves in another direction, perhaps. We did notice that, pretty much as in France, work life is separated from home life and life with friends. New people on the faculty in anthro don't seem to be invited to dinner at other faculty members' houses; in fact it would seem that most of the faculty do not socialize with each other. Kind of lonely, it appears, for people who don't have social networks, such as those coming from other countries.

Oslo Walks and Social Events and a Sense of Norwegian Politics

We've pretty much settled into a rhythm of working during the week and exploring on the weekend, though there have been some midweek exceptions. One was an amazing dinner (to which I was very cordially invited) at a downtown hotel for 120 Anthropology M.A. students who had just received their degrees. Apparently, the program in Anthro has recently been re-organized and so the students who were taking their time were given something of an ultimatum--hence the large number. The Master's Degree seems to be much more important in Norway than in the U.S. For one thing, all Master's students do field work. Ph.D. students are chosen from the best Master's students and (get this!)are entirely supported for (I believe) four years.(And they do field work as well.) The joys of a small, rich country!

Many of the students, both MA and PH.D. (and this is based in part on what David has told me about his conversations with them) seem to do field work that has an "applied" aspect. For example, David told me about a student whose subject was Norwegian drug regulation. Apparently there is a great deal of such, with the result--in her view--that new drugs take a long time to become available, and, while there are none of those horrific and constant ads for drugs such as we see on TV in the U.S., perhaps (again, in her view), there is not enough research and innovation. This student spoke of a patient she knew who had spent a great deal of time in a hospital in Norway, but, she thought, could be cured of his illness, were a particular drug available to him. I think this student's goal is to change things, once she has well understood how they presently work. This activist orientation has some overlaps, it seems, with the present orientation of anthro in the U.S. But here, the students' knowledge at least seems to be quite pragmatic and the goal less wholesale and theoretical than--at least I get the impression--it can be in the States. Perhaps some of this activist orientation has to do with Norway's role in the world at large-- as a peacebroker (e.g. the Oslo accords, the Nobel Peace prize, and more), and as a strong supporter of various international aid and development organizations.

In any event, the dinner was scrumptious, starting with what appeared to be very very lightly cooked and marinated tuna (which David, no fish eater, declared one of the best things he'd ever tasted), moving on to roast duck, and ending with a dessert that involved what I think was a small scoop of sorbet, covered with a lattice-work of hardened chocolate, as well as a bit of a layered puddingy-cake. The organizer sat across from us and tried to translate the four or five apparently quite lively and jocular speeches that were made. In the din, I'm afraid I barely heard her translations, but it was incredibly gracious of her to make the effort. I did manage to converse some with her husband, an Australian, who sat to my right.

Norwegians do seem extremely international. Of course, our contacts are anthropologists. But, aside from doing field work, so many people we've met have been to many continents and countries. I must say, too, that the Norwegians we've encountered (and this includes random folks on trams or on the street or in stores) seem remarkably without "edge." They are open and friendly and without suspicion. To take a small example: we were heading towards what we thought was the train station on Saturday last, and stopped to ask a woman--who was standing in her front yard--for directions. She was carrying a plate of cinammon buns and promptly offered one to each of us! (We took her up on her offer.) Our friend Halvard says this attitude is at least in part the result of having nothing to fear. Education is available, jobs are available, and one doesn't have to worry about the distant future. The elderly are all guaranteed care! Though apparently--speaking of pragmatic and activist goals--Halvard and his wife Heidi, who was trained as a nurse--are writing a paper about how the right to care in one's old age, at home or in an institution (which is recognized as such!! compare the situation in the U.S.!!!) is, nevertheless, not fully carried out at the present time. Apparently, the issue is that the women (so this is a feminist concern too), often unskilled, who perform much of this care, are assigned too many cases, are stretched too thin, and are not paid enough. The "welfare" state's claims and the reality of eldercare are apparently different, says Halvard.

An aside on the medical front: I was a bit surprised to hear the same complaints from Heidi, about the medical system in Norway, as I often make in the U.S. about our (blankety blank blank) HMO, Kaiser. Apparently doctors have caseloads of 2,500 patients (doesn't this number sound familiar, Kaiser members?) and the tendency is one complaint per visit, just as it is for us. Take a look at my poem, "HMOgenized," http://www.poemeleon.org/judy-kronenfeld3/ Well, I'm still in the process of getting a sense of the relation between the ideals (fantastic!) of the welfare state and the practice.

Which reminds me: on Saturday last we strolled around downtown. There was a lot of festivity because the elections were on Monday. One of the "right" parties sponsored a huge stage with a rock singer and a couple of back-up musicians. David and I wound up talking at some length with a woman dressed in an eye-catching lime-green outfit who wore a sign that said something like "Feminist Patrol." (Among other things she said that old-fashioned rock music went with the "right"; the "left" would have rap!) We asked what her feminist concerns were. Again, for an American, it does seem that Norwegian women have some wonderful rights and privileges. For example, women may take a year off to care for their babies, at full salary. (Our daughter-in-law told us, by the way, that Russia allows THREE years off--but the salary is very very low.) Norwegian single mothers are supported in their pursuit of education for a number of years. What more is needed? Apparently, the number of years that these single women are supported used to be five and it has slipped back to three, which is not enough to make them marketable. And, also, while childcare is not hard to find for children up to the age of 1 and after 3, there are few provisions for the in-between years. Finally, the lady in lime said that the sectors of the economy in which men and women worked were entirely different and that many women worked part-time, and thus were entitled to less of a pension when they retired.

The weather has been mostly sunny and cool. A couple of windy, rainy, cold days, but that's all. We've enjoyed strolling around Oslo. Here's a picture of one of the main shopping streets, Karl Johan's Gate, part of which is for pedestrians only, with the Royal Palace at the far end.

On this past Sunday, we took the train to Sognsvann, a lake in the Northern part of Oslo, and joined hosts of walkers, joggers, cyclers and strollers as they made their way around it (a pleasant 3.5. kilometers). We noticed that there were signs prohibiting cycling, but, nevertheless, a fair number of cyclers. David said he's heard it remarked that Norwegians are not blind obeyers of "the law." If it's fair, that's one thing, but if it's not.... Maybe it's not fair to deprive cyclers of this beautiful ride!

I only observed one soda can and two pieces of plastic wrap--the only litter on the whole path. I think that's wonderful!

The presence of this serene and lovely and quite large body of water not far from the city center reminded me how much I miss water--just to look at, even!--in SoCal. Especially during the summer. I also really enjoyed ( I miss Izzy!) watching the several blond labrador retrievers we saw swimming to retrieve the various things their owners thew out in the water (sticks, tennis balls, etc.) Here's a picture of the lake.

Magnificent cabin weekend--our intro to Norway

But first, a little about getting there. Our trip from Vladivostok began auspiciously when the Korean Air agent Dan had mentioned (he of the excellent English) did not bat an eyelish in response to our saying we had four bags. We had expended a certain amount of anxiety, Stateside, on the issue of baggage allowances. The flight from Vlad to Seoul and from Seoul to Amsterdam was supposed to allow only one 20 kilo bag for each of us, and a rather small piece of hand luggage. So much for the difference between theory and practice. We had not looked forward to repacking our worldly goods in the Vlad airport and giving them to our son and daughter-in-law--until we saw the latter two again (maybe in Norway, if they decide to visit, maybe later... much, much, later). Incidentally, water bottles also accompanied passengers from Vlad--right onto the plane. Got the impression no one cared! A total contrast to our experience later on in Munich (where every compartment and item in the many compartments of my stuffed flight bag was thoroughly examined). Anyway, we breathed a sigh of relief.

The Russian turista that hit me during the latter part of the Seoul to Amsterdam flight was less auspicious. Suffice it to say that I ignored several stewards' barked orders to stay in your seat!

Our trip from Amsterdam (after a night in a hotel there) to Oslo was, thankfully, easy and pleasant in our leased Europe-by-Car Peugeot. Spent a night in Kolding, Denmark en route, then decided to chill for a day in Goteborg, Sweden, just aimlessing around, and so spent a couple of nights there. Enjoyed a conversation at our breakfast table, with a Swedish psychologist who was attending a convention of neuropsychologists in Goteborg. She told us an anecdote about the Swedish Prime Minister, who, after meeting George Bush, said: "George Bush is not stupid. He's just very unlucky when he is thinking." Anyone know if that made it into the news anywhere?

After just a couple of days getting adjusted to our rented house in Oslo, we set off on Friday afternoon for a weekend with our friend, Halvard (and his son Nikolai), at his "cabin," or, as I learned it is called in Norwegian, his hytte. Heidi was able to join us on Saturday. When Halvard first mentioned inviting us to the "cabin," I braced myself for an outhouse, no indoor plumbing, water from a well, and lanterns, not to mention sleeping bags. I think my model was the cabin of her childhood summers my friend Betsy often described to me--in the Michigan woods--about which she had very fond memories. (I plead my totally urban New York childhood for a certain lack of enthusiasm for such a place.) When I gingerly asked Halvard if we'd need, say, sleeping bags, he told me the cabin had "all amenties." But I wasn't prepared for how comfortable and charming the place is. Interestingly enough, one of the participants at an Oslo conference on "Performing Nature at the World's Ends" that I later went to one day of, with David, was on "Holiday Practices and Norwegian 'Hytte.'" The dictionary gives a definition of "shack, hut, cottage." When I saw Halvard's, however, I told him it seemed more like a "chalet." Catch that picture of the dining area!

Halvard and Heidi's cabin is very close to the very huge Lake Nisser in Norway's Telemark region. This is one of the most pristine and stunning natural environments we have ever experienced. I mean "stunning" in quite a literal way. Looking out at the lake from my chair in front of the cabin, I really did feel awestruck, unable to take my eyes away.

The weather was fresh and invigorating, windy at times. We took a short walk around part of a higher smaller lake, Lytingsvatnet, as well as a brief jaunt down to a place on Nisser where Halvard and his family swim (too cold this time). There were blueberries and red currants on our path as well as some very exotic looking mushrooms (including some definitely poisonous ones identified by Heidi). The rocks were covered in lichen collages. We also accompanied Halvard on the neighborly task of bailing water out of a wooden boat seemingly uncared for by its owner. The boat is moored near Halvard's fiberglass one; intriguing-- it's made out of overlapping planks in the Viking manner, and apparently also has a square sail, as did the much much larger Viking ships (which we saw in the Viking Ship Museum in Oslo a week or so later).

I am now trying to get into a writing rhythm. It does take a while to adjust to a new country, landscape, house, desk, view. It is a little lonely, too. Since we've been away from home, I have had several enheartening poem acceptances (nothing like acceptances!!!!), though it's been a little crazy trying to keep up with my submissions. I've loaded most of the relevant files on my laptop, but there's always that one that got away, not to mention the hard copies I don't have at all, my attempt to save money by not using too much paper here (where prices for everything are shocking), etc. etc.