Saturday, March 31, 2012

Questions and a taste of home

Nothing says home quite like home-made Cheesesteak!

Another week is in the books, dear friends.  The highlight of the past seven days definitely has to be the home-made cheesesteak (hjemmelaget ostebiffsmørbrød) that was a perfect compliment to the unseasonable, good weather (is it a bad sign when 60 degrees in March is cause for celebration?) and good times.  So thanks for that!

Now, as I've been here for a little over three months, I have accrued some questions from those of you back in the US of A... I thought I'd share some of them here.

Q: What are your plans for Summer?
- PY

Norges sommer er vakker
A: Hopefully, I will be employed and working.  Additionally, I had been thinking of doing some traveling (I hear that Trondelag is nice this time of year!).  However, after a few days of discussions, I have been invited to training camp for a Norwegian American Football team.  So, that may be my summer extracurricular (No, it's not like their NFL.  Its more recreational, but it is pads and tackles... I'll make sure to include plenty of updates on my sports blog.


Q: Where are the pics of you skiing?
- JO

A: Fine... here are two








Q: What was the craziest thing you've eaten since you've been there?
- ADJ

With brie on whole grain bread it is divine!

A: Sauna-cooked Moose heart... Though, aquavit salmon and other aquavit-infused meat is pretty out there, too.  Though, things with aquavit tend to be more extreme.


Q: I don't really understand about the clothing.  Do they dress just like us (Americans)?
- DS

A: I can't really explain this one... its hard because, well, I have NO fashion sense (which, in itself, I guess is a fashion style).  Though, I will point out an oddity here in fashion that I find hilarious... A company here produces imitation letterman jackets... and they're a SMASH HIT!
Don't mind these patches that say "Boys Soccer State Champs 1980"
If that's not noteworthy enough, the material is not like that of the American forebear.  These are cotton-blend, lightweight jackets as opposed to the wool-and-leather fall/winter overcoats.  Also, a lot of them have patches that say things like "State Champs 1980" or "All-Conference Boys Basketball".  Though, that shouldn't seem so strange since American Eagle, Aeropostale, and Old Navy have made a prosperous market out of doing the same thing with their clothing.

And that's that for this week (or whatever period of time before the next post)...

Remember, "Like" Oslost in Space on Facebook (Facebook.com/OSLOst) and post any questions on the wall and I will answer them (sooner or later).

Alt for Norge


Friday, March 23, 2012

Thank you for coming to Løews and random pictures

Slow week on this end of the Atlantic... I think the most exciting thing that happened was going to the movies to see Hugo (it was outstanding!  Thanks for asking!).

Whose ready for a movie?  THIS GUY!


Contrary to Pulp Fiction, not every European film house serves beer (Oslo being in the non-serving company).  Though, when one orders popcorn, unlike in America, where a teenager will, disinterestedly, scoop out day old popcorn from a huge tumbler and hand it to you; in Norway, they just have bucket upon bucket of popcorn, pre-scooped, sitting behind glass like they were sodas at a gas station shop.

That's another reoccurring theme here... they don't believe in the illusion.  There's no presentation, it's just "here you go" (what do I mean by this?  Another example, in the states, at Starbucks or most other drink shops, there's a high counter where the barista/server will disappear behind and "perform their magic" before returning with your drink.  Here, the counter is low and there barista/server will hack and sloppily scoop/mix the ingredients before handing you your order.  Also, whipped cream isn't part of the deal!  Wars have started over less...)

Anyway, the inside of the theater looks relatively the same (not sure what I was expecting).

So that's that...  and since I have nothing else funny to say, please enjoy some pictures I took while hanging out around town (no, these aren't all from the same day):

No... I didn't rent out the whole tram.  It just feels that way.  I spent the two stops when no one was on pretending I was Denzel Washington in that movie where the train is running away... That's how good that movie was, I can't even remember the name and don't feel like googling it to reference it.  I'll stop typing now...



No... The city of Oslo is not in complete black and white.  That would be cool, right?  Anyway, here's a slightly creepy ad to drink more chocolate milk.  Steers is pimps, too, go an' brush ya shoulder off!

This is like my Ken Burns' shot... I can almost hear soft, piano music accompanying this shot

No matter how many times I see it, I always trip when I come across the "random street going through a building" building 

This graffiti artist does not care for children playing!  Though, the one kid on the right looks like he's doing the running man.  



That's it... oh, if I get enough questions, I will do a "Q&A" post next time.  You can message/post the questions on my wall on Facebook (www.facebook.com/OSLOst)


And, as always... Alt for Norge



Friday, March 16, 2012

That ol' fightin' spirit

In the spirit of March Madness (Way. To. Go. Wichita State...), I thought I'd take this post to share my recent brush with sports here in Norway.

So yes... I went to a Women's volleyball match.


Background:  In my Norwegian language/culture courses, I have people from various places and, one of them, is a professional, female volleyball player from Poland.

Now, if you're like me (probably not), you're thinking "Wait, they have professional volleyball?".

Yes.

They just don't have it.  There's a six-tier, professional league system here (similar to the international, promotion-relegation system of soccer... sorry, "football") in Norway.  My fellow student starred for the club Oslo Volley, the reigning Scandinavian and Norwegian Open Tournament Champions.

However, they were tied in first place for the Norwegian Elite Series (Look, I know its confusing... Here.  To be "Scandinavian Champions" they won a tournament, March Madness-style, against EVERY team in Scandinavia (Sweden, Norway, Denmark, and Iceland... why they'd fly Iceland in is anyone's guess).  Norwegian Open Tournament consisted of every team in the six-tier, professional system in Norway and now, they were going for the championship of just their individual league, the elite series.  The top league in Norway... sorry, confusing, I know)against the titans of Stod Valley.

I mean, STOD VALLEY!



Now... I won't get into the various reasons, but due to the very nature (both teams had walked through their competition in the Elite Series to the tune of 13-1, having split their two previous meetings, and had met in the championship or final stages of the Scandinavian and Norwegian Open tournaments), there was a little "bad blood".  Wouldn't you know it, but the game that I was treated to was the epic, end-of-the-season, winner-take-all, rubber match between the two in Oslo.

How was it?


For starters, I got there late.  To get to the "venue" (Fyrstikkalléen skole... While it is a school, the campus and facility was better than a lot of colleges in the States) I had to take two different buses and walk four blocks through neighborhoods (reminded me of going to RFK!). So... I got there at the onset of the first set, which was all Stod.

Before arriving, I didn't know much about Stod. Like, I couldn't even find it on a map. However, I soon came to realize that they go hammer for their volleyball. The crowd was very pro-Stod. I would say that of the 200 or so people in attendance, 140 were for Stod (yes, I had never seen that many people at a Volleyball event, either). They were very vocal... they had chants and claps and scarfs and noise makers that drowned out the blaring hip-hop music (a very, underrated, unintentional comedy element of the event... they had like eight songs that they rotated throughout the game. Why only eight and why such poignant ballads as "Stereo Heart" by Gym Class Heroes, "Remember the Name" by Fort Minor, and the immortal "Butterfly" by Crazy Town? Man may never know).

As for the teams, it was almost like Space Jam. Stod was every part the Monstars... They were bigger (save for my classmate), faster, stronger (like, when they hit the ball... it made a different sound!), and more athletic. They seemed to be one step ahead of Oslo at every turn... plus, they had a different, type of swagger.

Now, some of the people in the crowd, both demurely and very vocally, attributed this to the "foreign" aspect of the team. As I had a program from the game, it was kinda obvious that certain players on Stod weren't from Stod or anywhere else in Norway (Let's just say there weren't too many "Line"'s or "Thea"'s... I'm not complaining. The object is to win so you should have the best players to do so and I'm all about foreigner solidarity). In fact, they had two players from America.

Which two were from America? Ha... let's just say it wasn't hard to tell.

In addition to being the two tallest, most athletic, and best players.

They were also the loudest.

They berated the officials when they blew a call (there were many opportunities for this). They berated their teammates when they made a poor play (also, many opportunities). They berated their coach when he went berserk (this may be a surprise, but there were many opportunities for this, too!). They taunted the Oslo players when they hammered spikes upon them or stuffed their shots. They taunted the crowd, the few Oslo fans who dared to be vocal, when they also took the second set with relative ease (What made it even better is that they did all of it in English... they didn't even bother to at least meet their target halfway by yelling in Norwegian!).

As a impartial observer, I was horrified... As an American, I was "Hell yeah! That's how we do!" (I can't help myself... I won't get into all of this now. That's for another blog).

Anyway, Oslo was able to rally back, partially to spirited play and fatigue (Oslo did have the numbers advantage as they were able to rotate in about four, solid players to Stod having one, viable sub). The match was tied at 2-2 and it seemed it was anyone's match.

In the end, Oslo couldn't get out of their own way (two, crucial serve faults down the stretch) and lost the deciding set and the match and, for all intents and purposes, the season. Stod paraded around, both demonstratively and emphatically, and Oslo players sulked off the court.

It was a pretty memorable experience and a good lesson in something... I'm not sure what, but it was.

Good times. Remember to "Like" on Facebook (www.facebook.com/OSLOst) and email any questions and I will try to address them in future blog entries or with a personal response!

Alt for Norge.



Friday, March 9, 2012

New in Norway?

ATTENTION EVERYONE!!  HEY!!  ATTENTION!!!  PI IS THREE!



Now that I have your attentions... What do I do with my days?  Good question.  In addition to trying to find a job (this consists of hours of job search engine scanning, crafting cover letters, and clicking "refresh" on my inbox repeatedly hoping for good news that never comes), I read newspapers and do a random assortment of errands.  Additionally, I have been taking language and culture courses.

I would attempt to explain this in detail, but its not really that interesting and, as most things, is far more interesting to me and people who are involved with it than to an outsider.  An inside joke is only funny if you're on the inside and, even then, its pretty subjective.

Anyway, I have had nine weeks of course and I would definitely rate my Norwegian skills as "needs improvement".  Money well spent.

Though, the best thing I have gotten from the sessions is a better understanding of Norwegian life and some great friends from all over the globe.

So... Norwegian Life.  It can be pretty dangerous (ice is EVERYWHERE... even under the ice!), but, generally, its about making the best out of every situation.  You need assistance/help/directions/human contact?  Mostly everyone will respond in English (of course you wouldn't take the time to learn our language...).  It snows nine months out of the year?  Let's incorporate skiing into the national identity and let's go hammer during the three months its actually nice outside with a crapton of outdoor festivals.  Norwegians perpetually see the glass half full... even when the water is frozen because of a freak, March snowstorm.
Norwegian life... it consists of trying not to slip on the ever-present patches of ice
Pop culture here, like everywhere, is a mash up of global trends and traditional looks (especially mandated by weather) to give you something that makes the average Oslonian (I just made that up) look like they could've just stepped out of Park Slope.  


Music isn't all death metal and trip hop DJs (as I thought before I came here) as "indie folk rock" is probably the dominant sound (judging by restaurants, conversations, radio, passing cars, and the newspapers that I can figure out how to read).  Though, hip-hop is popular here and manifests itself almost as equally awkwardly as it does in affluent, American suburbs (funny anecdote:  I was on the tram the other day, and this couple, african guy-norwegian girl, were sitting a few rows in front of me having an animated conversation in Norwegian in between making out.  Norwegians tend to intersperse English phrases into their conversations... "no problem", "can you believe that?", "and I was all like".  Yes, it sounds as odd as you'd imagine.  Anyway, this couple was sorta doing the same thing and, at one point, the girl, a very blonde and blue eyed, diminutive Norwegian in similar clothing pictured above, goes "hun er alltid i min skitt! Men hun vet ikke and I be like, Nigga please.  High comedy)

Ok... Anyway, that's all for me for now.  

Alt for Norge!


Friday, March 2, 2012

Innvandring og deg!


So it's been a week since I've last checked in.  What has changed?  Well... I have health insurance.

How did this happen?

Well, I had the great fortune of dealing with the Immigration services in Norway.  Due to being from America, I am allowed in to Schengen countries for three months without explicit documentation (i.e. visa, citizenship, etc.).  However, after those three months, I have to go back to my proud, healthy nation, unless I obtained a special waiver.

How hard could that be?

:(

After several hours of phone conversations (at one point, I was on hold for an hour... this is after being on hold, in previous conversations, for 20 and 30 minute periods) and misleading internet rhetoric (please pay the Government $500 for the right to be considered for a permit), an email response directed me to appear in person, which lead to the following three days.




Day 1:
After an hour of re-routing through a zigzag of lines and different deterrents, an agent informed us that I had to report to a different facility altogether.  Good thing the original trip didn't mean that we had to take a long, bus ride to the other side of town and miss work and school... oh wait, all of that did happen.



Day 2: After more hours of waiting in an "organized" line system.  There were 30 kiosks with various representatives all assigned to assist with various tasks from an immigrant changing their address to issuing work permits and tax IDs (in order to get a job, each immigrant is assigned a tax ID number which, immediately, deducts taxes from their pay.  Thus, even if an immigrant can finagle a way to stay illegally, their contribution to the state is still accounted... seems a lot easier than building a fence).  However, extension-seekers, information seekers, and jerks who didn't want to schedule an appointment online or on the phone, were siphoned off and were able to go to one kiosks only.

Oh, it gets better.

While the other kiosks could either call up people (based on their appointment) or DMV-style with a ticket machine, the separate kiosk resorted to a mid-twentieth century clusterfuck.  When I got there, it was an assortment of immigrants standing and sitting (yes, you could be in-line and not actually "in line") around and not everyone spoke English or Norwegian (I don't really speak Norwegian, but I can ask simple questions like: "er du i faen linje!?!?").  Finally, I found the end of the line which, slowly, became the front of the line.  When my turn came up, I was informed that I had all the requisite paperwork (Resume/CV, passport, and, in order to gain the extension, I had to prove I was a "skilled" worker which required a copy of my college diploma because, you know, every American carries that around with them on job interviews or other important tasks to prove their scholarly merits), except for my documentation of health insurance.

Norway requires everyone to have health insurance.  If you're a citizen or employed, they provide it to you.  If you're not, you have to provide it for yourself.

My inner Mitch McConnell almost came out!


(Let's stop right here and let me assure you that I, wholeheartedly, agree and support Norway's healthcare statute... I'd just prefer that it didn't directly, negatively, impact me)

moving on...

This news caused me to race out of the facility and print out my proper documentation (thanks, nearby internet cafe... don't try the coffee!).  However, when I returned to the center to complete the process, the kiosk closed before I could make it back to the front.  You see, while the center was open from 8:45 to 4, the lone kiosk that could help me had operating hours of 9 - 12.

Day 3:
As I shivered infront of the facility with the other immigrants, I realized that I was losing patience with everything.  I had already missed a day and a half of class and I was not interested in expanding that tally by much more.  A quick visual survey allowed me to confirm that many of the people waiting to get in had the same destination that I had.  I began scheming out how I would weave in and around the elderly and women pushing strollers (yes, the monstrous, barnevogn from my previous post) to get to the forefront of the line.  A large gate held us out and, at 8:50 (Norwegians have a very tenuous grasp on time in many commercial and civic ventures.  The previous day, the kiosk had shut down at 11:50), two diminutive security guards (another odd quirk, everyone working at this center was female... security, cleaners, servicemen... everyone) slid the gate up and a mad rush was on.

It wasn't a mad rush, per se.  Though, it was very intense.  Small children were brushed by, pamphlets and forms were slightly rustled in the wake.

I got through and am now free to be here through Mid-June.  By free, I mean I am able to stay here and pay a lot of money for goods and services in the hopes of finding a job and longer sponsorship.

Alt for Norge!