Disclaimer: This blogpost is purely a reflection on my own experiences and I by no means mean to draw conclusions about what truly makes Norwegian people tick...in fact, this blogpost is probably more about my own social awkwardness than it is about Norwegian people.
There is a general idea among people not from Norway that Norwegian people are stand-offish, hard to read, gruff, proud of their own country and fond of everything to do with nature, winter and physical hardship. Their society is hard to become a part of as an outsider. You are never truly Norwegian, unless you AND your parents were born there. This makes it hard for an outsider to feel at home.
This is what I read before moving our family to Norway. And this proved to be true and absolute rubbish in such equal proportions, that I think I would have been better off not knowing what I was getting into. So let me share my story with you about how I got to know Norwegian people as one of the kindest and most welcoming people I have met. While also experiencing social awkwardness at a level that I had been spared since my high school days. And no, that is not because Norwegian men are all insanely good-looking Viking offspring. If that were the case, life would have been even more awkward!
In approaching Norwegian social life, I had two big handicaps. First, I did not (well still don't actually) speak Norwegian. Yes, I know, a lot of people here speak excellent English, but still... There is a certain freedom in talking that is lost if you have to think about everything you are going to say. Second, I came fresh from Canada, Small-Talk Country of the world! In Canada, your day is not worth calling a day if you have not at least engaged one stranger in a conversation about a completely random topic. That's just what life is like over there! After living there for a couple of years it became harder and harder to meet that one stranger, but I feel I still made pretty much every day worth living there.
So since I did not/do not speak the language, I used google translate to find the Norwegian version of Canada's conversation starter: "Hey, how are you?". GT came back with: "Hvordan går det?". So, for the first couple of days in Norway, I would ask that question to everyone I met. In the streets, at the supermarket, when meeting the principal of the girls' school, etc. Little did I know that "Hvordan går det?" inquires how people are actually doing. It is the kind of question you ask when you know someone has experienced a life-changing event, like a big surgery, loss of someone dear or moving to another part of the country. It is a pretty deep question. Kind of lacking in the non-committal, conversation starting aspect of the Canadian: "How are you?". So, instead of starting up nice conversations with my neighbours, I got quizzical looks about how on earth I could know that they were going through a rough patch in life... Of course, it took me a while to find out why my friendly enquiries were not met with a barrage of friendly responses, but I soon stopped asking it anyway.
Soon after, I realized that there was some truth to the stand-offish prejudice about Norwegian people. Out of the house, there is really little contact to be made. When shopping, everybody goes about their business, their OWN business. There is no eye-contact, no chance to make the odd comment about how nice somebody's rainboots look, how cute their baby is or where they bought that jacket that looks utterly Norwegian-weather-resistant. Nothing. Again, the contrast with Canada could not have been bigger.
Fortunately, we met some of the parents of the friends Jura and Nori made at school. And, they were awesome people! Very outgoing and welcoming, sharing stories about living in our small town and helping us navigate our way through all things new in Norway. I still feel incredibly grateful to these people for inviting us over, because they provided a much needed contrast with the rest of our contact with Norwegian society.
As mentioned in another blog post, dealing with bureaucracy in Norway wasn't exactly easy. Furthermore, I was trying to find a job as well. As suggested by the NAV (Norwegian social security agency), I wrote open applications to all possible employers around me (read: barnehagen and dental practices). But no one, and I mean no one, wrote anything back to my enquiries. Of course I had not expected to be showered with job opportunities, but coming, again, from Canada, I at least expected some form or reply. Something along the lines of: "Thank you for your interest in blahblah. Unfortunately we have no position available for non-Norwegian speaking middle-aged career-misfits who really should have thought about their job prospects before coming to Norway... We will contact you should such a position become available". That's only decent, right?!
So, after those dreadful summer months, I decided things needed to change. And quickly, too! Me, Ms. Chatterbox-pur-sang, I was starting to feel lonely! And not just lonely, I realized that I started to dislike Norway and at the same time was developing stalker-like tendencies to the people that I had had a good time with, aka the parents of Nori and Jura's friends. I could not rely on my Canadian experience anymore, nor did I want to rely solely on the goodwill of the Norwegian families who we had gotten in contact with so far. It was time for a change in tactics!
I decided to forego the job seeking mishap and focus on "learning Norwegian through social contacts" instead. I realized quickly that beggars can't be choosers and that perhaps I had to venture a little out of my comfort zone. In a way, I kind of thrive outside my comfort zone, once I have made the step to embrace the new and awkward so to speak. I decided to grab every opportunity I got to wiggle my way into Norwegian life. Over the course of a month, our family joined a family choir, I joined a local choir and I volunteered to become a member of the FAU at Eluin's barnehage (kind of like a PAC).
And almost immediately, things clicked! Because what people don't tell you about Norwegians, is that they are incredibly social, funny, welcoming, openhearted and supportive If They Have A Reason To Be Around You. That is the key. Don't expect people to chat with you at the playground. With every family being a double income family, there is no one at the playground during the week anyway. But, if you are part of a social gathering, you are part of social Norway, too. I learned how deeply ingrained going out, building a fire and being active in nature is in Norwegian culture. And come to think of it, why shouldn't it? Our natural surroundings are absolutely stunning and you sure do appreciate that fiery glow a lot more after a day in the woods! I've come to understand that even though people don't carry their heart on their sleeve, they are by no means shallow or cold. Indeed, moving to the Trondheim area from another part of Norway can leave one quite as in need of new friends as I was and I truly appreciate the people who have reached out to me and shared their stories of moving here with me. Then again, I have met quite a few Norwegians, both male and female, who are even more talkative than I am!
Also, I am really grateful to our friends who invited us to join the family choir (and the local choir).
It has given me insight, in how big a role music and singing plays in Norwegian life. Almost all the kids I know play an instrument and are a member of the school band. Nori and Jura both really enjoy singing at school. I truly enjoy singing at the choir, although I still find it pretty scary, too. I mean, I've never heard half the song before, so I don't know the melody, I don't know how to pronounce the words and I have no idea 90% of the time what the choir conductor is saying when she explains how she wants us to sing certain parts. What could possibly go wrong, right? Right.
But something that happened at the choir struck a chord in me and stirred a memory from long, long ago. During my studies, I went on an internship to South Africa. I worked with local volunteer groups in a rural, traditional Zulu community. Every meeting we had, we started with singing. They were mostly hymns, and they were sung with a heartfelt joy and spirit that gives me goosebumps just remembering it. Every single person I met there could sing. And every voice had the practice and power to go to a different place from where we were at that moment. To truly lift the spirit. I learned many a lesson over there, but the power of music, of singing, of forging a common goal at the beginning of each meeting is something I have not encountered ever again. And I am still in awe of that.
So, now I am here in Norway, quite far away from South Africa. And one night I joined the choir to sing at an evening where a number of local choirs gathered. It was my first social outing in Norway. The choir meeting was held in a "samfunnshus", kind of like a community centre. Everybody looked their best. There was good food and drinks to be had and the performances of the choirs were incredible. After the performances, the lights dimmed a little and people engaged in conversation. Until, at one point, one of the bass singers in our choir started a song at the other end of the table. His deep voice was joined almost instantly by another bass singer and an alto. Before I knew it, the table I sat at had burst into what I can only imagine to be an old seaman's song (though it could just as easily have been a song about how good oranges taste or the difficulties of finding a suitable partner in life, I have no idea actually ;-) ). Again, I felt the power of a song lifting the spirits. Of singing just for the sake of singing, because it is something that brings people together. I felt the same kind of goosebumps and connection that I had felt so many years ago in South Africa...
...wouldn't it be beautiful if I could end this blog post on finding my way around Norway on this magical, inspiring note? I bet it would, but alas, that is not me. Because the truth is, something else made me feel even more at home, and confident that I would have a good time in Norway after all. And that was something that has less to do with the power of music...and more with my potty mouth and dirty mind. It is no secret that I have a dirty mind to rival any 15-year-old. And although I met some cosmic twin sisters in Canada that met my level of tongue-in-cheek-jokes, the truth is that Canada was not entirely supportive, shall we say, of my particular tendency for "underpants-humour" as the Dutch proudly refer to it.
But lo and behold! At this local choir in rural Norway, people truly appreciate the power of a good joke! And the fact that I missed the clue on both the choir conductor's comparison between a choir conductor and a condom and a hilarious story involving a bass singer who's fly was open at the start of a concert has made me even more determined to learn Norwegian! Those jokes were too good to get lost in translation :-)
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