Crate of Thunder: Norway: The Beginning

I think I'll break up the trip into three parts. No particular reason, really, except that it is easier to think of things in blocks. So it begins...

One major difference between my trip to Norway and all of my previous trips overseas was the lack of traveling I did once I got there. After I made it to Bergen, Rebecca and I stayed in the city except for one brief sojourn to a nearby fjord. I have to say, it was actually quite a relief not to have to think about packing, unpacking, repacking, hauling luggage, and doing it all over again every few days. Sure, I didn't "see" as much of the country, but I really got to know Bergen and had a wonderful experience spending time with Becca, getting to know her friends, and avoiding the stress of constantly being on the move. This unquestionable lack of traveling had to be made up for somehow, though, and it certainly was on either end of the journey: bus from apartment to subway station, subway to Penn Station, train to Newark, airtrain to international terminal, plane to Copenhagen, final plane to Bergen. Luggage lost between Copenhagen and Bergen. It didn't matter: I was in Bergen, and there was Becca to meet me!

My first view of Norway: Endless mountains covered in snow, broken up only by the shining blue of fjords reaching their spindly fingers into the mainland

The luggage was expected to come to the airport that afternoon, and then it would be delivered to the apartment. I was not concerned. I was staying in an apartment with Becca and her roommates; I knew that they would be able to lend me anything that I needed in the meantime. So what did we do on my very first day in Norway? We did what the Norwegians do: we climbed a mountain! Bergen is surrounded by seven mountains (a surprising feature, given that it is also a port city). Løvstakken, the second-highest, was our goal for the afternoon, despite rain and a persistent fog. I borrowed some waterproof clothes and shoes (seeing as mine were somewhere between Denmark and Norway), and up we hiked, along with Becca's roommates and some of their other friends. The rain and fog meant that we didn't have any view of the city at the top, but we still rewarded ourselves with hot chocolate and candy.

The trek up Løvstakken

Just as I expected, the luggage arrived perfectly fine at the apartment just as we were coming back from our hike, so I was able to join everyone else in changing into some warm, clean, dry clothes. Inga cooked Norwegian pancakes for us, and then we all watched Pirates of the Caribbean. Partway through the movie, I began feeling really drowsy, but I was glad that Becca and her friends had kept me so active throughout the day. It's so much easier to get over jet lag when everyone else is pulling you into their "normal" schedule.

The next day, Becca and I explored Bergen. We went to the morning service at DELK, the church which she and many of her friends attend (and which is conveniently located downstairs and on the other side of her apartment building). Of course I didn't understand the readings and sermon in Norwegian, but we followed the readings in Becca's Bible, and I tried my best to attempt correct pronunciations for the songs. (In fact, I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, and I still don't. Which vowels sound like what? Do you pronounce the J's and K's? What about the vowels with little lines and circles through them? A fun guessing game...) I had never thought about this before, but the hymns that we sing at church -- even the old ones with melodies from the 1800s or earlier -- are not necessarily common throughout the world. All of the hymns that we sang had melodies that came from Norwegian folk songs. They had a haunting, lonely quality that was at the same time mesmerizing and incredibly beautiful, evoking images of mountains and hard work and simple living.

During the afternoon, we walked around the Sentrum of Bergen. Becca is lucky enough to live within this area, which is among the oldest sections of the city. All of the houses are extremely well kept, cozy, and, for lack of better word, cute. They are. They're all cute. It's what every little cutesy tourist area in America aspires to be, but it's authentic, and it's old, and it's how these Norwegians actually live.

Cozy.

Later that evening, we went to Mass at St. Paul Church. It was the weekly English Mass, and it was packed. Apparently every Mass there is packed, since it's the only Catholic church in the city, but it was even more so because it was Palm Sunday. It was so good to have our palms and hear the readings in English, but it was certainly different than at home. The music was contemporary, but thankfully, as Becca put it, it was done in a "non-distracting" way. We even sang one song that I recognized from our old SPO songbooks, so that was a pleasant surprise. Bergen has a surprisingly diverse immigrant population, especially at the Catholic church, so it was also a powerful testament to see so many people of different cultures worshiping together.