Trip to Bergen

We finally got our acts together and took the plunge: a four-day weekend road trip to Bergen. We left on Thursday, October 4th, and came home Sunday evening, the7th, after negotiating--or I should say failing to negotiate--a humongous, frustrating traffic jam that started on the single lane headed toward Oslo about 40 km. outside town. We found out--much later, from Halvard--that the jam was caused by people returning from an autumn holiday.

Now, if I had my pictures on flickr better organized (see Our Trip To and From Bergen after you click the link with jzkfeld at the bottom of this post), or had kept a proper log when I took them, you would know exactly where each was taken and whether on the way or on the way back. Alas, no such luck (except that the pictures from Bergen proper are clearly from Bergen proper). I was too busy taking in the spectacular scenery to carefully note each time I went "click."

On our first day of traveling, my tummy rebelled at the curvy roads; a rarely indulged-in Coke helped a bit (though not, I regret to say, enough). However, said tum seemed to acclimate so that our return trip on Saturday and Sunday, with a stopover in Loen, was infinitely better.

It was an unusually sunny day in Bergen on Friday, and quite warm, perfect for walking. We also had the pleasure of youthful company: Halvard's son Magnus and his wife Elizabeth, who are both studying for their Masters degrees in Bergen, met us at 11 at our hotel and were our guides for the entire day, ending with dinner at a Chinese restaurant. We started out at the harbor where we strolled among the old wooden Hanseatic buildings on the wharf. I learned something about what I'd wondered about... the widespread use of wood in buildings in Norway (from stave churches onward) and how some of them have lasted for such a very long time; isn't wood subject to rotting? It seems wood does indeed sometimes rot; apparently salt accidentally preserved some wooden buildings and repairs or reconstruction may involve timbers floated in sea water--at least in the case of these structures on the wharf. From the harbor, we set out for nearby Hakons Hall, originally erected in the 13th century by King Hakon Hakonsson for ceremonial and daily use, falling into disuse during the centuries without a monarchy, used as storage, eventually for Bergenhus Castle, restored and refurbished at the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th century, destroyed except for the walls when a German ammunition ship exploded in the harbor in 1944, and restored again. While we were looking at a curious gargoyle, Magnus was reminded of an interesting story about a statue of the archangel Gabriel on the cathedral at Trondheim; apparently the sculpture who was commissioned for the job used Bob Dylan's face as the model for the archangel. Talk about popularity!

On our stroll, we passed a statue of a famous Norwegian violinist--Ole Bull. Below the statue there is a mythic figure--as Elizabeth explained--with a kind of harp. It seems this somewhat demonic figure is associated with the idea that Ole Bull "sold his soul" in exchange for receiving his very great musical talent. I wondered if this juxtaposition undermines the very tribute to the violinist implied in the creation of the statue. After talking with Elizabeth, and later with a very interesting anthropology graduate student with whom I went to the National Gallery, as well as with Heidi, I came to the conclusion that there is a certain ambiguity in the statue. I learned that Ole Bull's talents were so great that people went into a kind of frenzy or even fainted when he played; thus, the mythic figure may be saying something like "his gifts were so great, he could only have gotten them from a demon" in a somewhat humorous way. On the other hand, there was such a negative attitude toward music and dancing on the part of extreme pietistic sects in Western Norway, that they may have believed more literally that such music was from the dark powers! Not quite knowing how to take this statue is, I guess, just an example of being just a bit outside Norwegian culture.

After lunch we decided we would like to see the Bergen Aquarium, all of us being fond of watching seals, penguins, and fish. I was amazed to discover a pacifier depository in the carp pond (Karpedammen). Note the picture!

Children are apparently encouraged to give up their pacifiers by depositing them in this pond (and you can see them, too, though I did not see a carp with a pacifier in its mouth). Was this another example of the culture of the welfare state? The state (or is it the city or the equivalent of a county?) steps in to help parents help their children grow up? Quite extraordinary! (By the way, I'd recently discovered that the state DOES help people not to get inebriated after work or on the weekends. Supermarkets cannot sell alcohol later in the evening--after 8 o'clock on weekdays and after 6 o'clock on Saturdays, I believe.)

Altogether a very lovely day. Interesting conversations with Magnus and Elizabeth throughout. I was particularly interested in Elizabeth's anecdote about her brother's school's accommodation with the wishes of a Muslim girl's parents. (Her brother is the vice principal.)
Apparently, the girl's father did not want her to play co-ed sports or take showers with all the other girls. But Elizabeth's brother was eventually able to convince him to allow her to play sports with the boys, while at the same time granting his other wish by providing separate shower facilities for two Muslim girls. I've heard other stories, as well, with examples about problem-solving and the development of trust on an ad hoc basis, like this one. But the issue of the integration of Muslim immigrants into Norwegian society is much too complex to go into here.

Water is never far away in Norway--fiords, lakes, rivers (calm or full of rapids). At the lower elevations, delicate birches blazed bright yellow among the evergreens in lush valleys; the higher elevations without trees had their own stark beauty. Even there, we saw the occasional small dwelling. For a while I thought that some Norwegians might have had their "hytte" or cabin in these cold high spots (population density seems so low, and farmhouses are widely dispersed rather than clumped; Norwegians don't seem to mind isolation at all), but I soon learned that these dwellings were used by those pasturing their sheep in the summer at the higher elevations. New word for me: transhumance. See the links for pictures of the magnificence.

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.