Places | Muninn

Notes from Iceland

On my way back to Boston I’m staying two nights in Reykjavík. I’ll takes some notes while I’m here and post them when I get back in town:

Sept 6

– In only a few hours this island has really caught my interest. However, I clearly need to come back with a whole lot more money. Unless you just want to hit the “blue lagoon” heating swimming area on the way from the airport, be prepared to rent a car or spend serious money to get to any of the beautiful areas on all the postcards. Come to think of it, the same is true for Norway.

– Even in the short fifty or so kilometers from the airport to Reykjavík and the view from the edges of town I’m already fascinated by the Icelandic landscape. In some areas it looks like the tundra of Northern Norway, in others the rocky but bright green grassland of Jæren south of my hometown. In some places along the coast it is all rocks covered with lichen and mosses of many colors. Barren and pointed hills rise out of nowhere, and you can catch glimpses of massive asteroid crater like pits of dark sand, or shaded black fields dotted with bright white pillars of steam. From the town’s harbor you can see a towering mountain hanging over the waters edge off to the North. That mountain looks so familiar, as if it were a cliff along one of the fjords back in my own Rogaland county. However, it seems darker and somehow more impressive. When I returned to my room after an early evening walk I caught a glimpse of it again in the distance, but only as a completely black background to the city, disappearing into a soft blanket of white clouds above. Everything contributes to a kind of desperate but somehow empowering feeling of loneliness, which I really find moving. Like I said, I really need to return with more money so I can visit the many different areas of the island and perhaps hike some of its hills. As for a place to live though, I think I would miss the forests too much.

– Reykjavík, or at least the center of it, doesn’t feel any bigger than any medium-sized Scandinavian fishing town, but imagine if you will a medium-sized fishing town where everyone dresses way cooler than you.

– Laugavegur The “Main shopping street” (which they kindly announce in English on signs at either end) Laugavegur reminds me a lot of the main shopping street in Sandnes outside my hometown. It’s cute, but not exactly impressive. There are, however, a number of cute coffee shops, fancy clothes stores, and delicious smelling Thai restaurants.

– Internet The “Kaffi vín” towards the eastern end of Laugavegur has an unprotected open wireless network, you can download your email here from the pavement outside. There are lots of internet cafes around but why pay?

– Gothic Is it the “desperate but somehow empowering feeling of loneliness” I was talking about the reason Reykjavík seems to be a mini-gothic capital of the world? Or is there just some kind of gothic get-together going on this week?

– Food Icelandic bread isn’t the greatest, but otherwise the stores are stocked with many if not most of the same things (and in many cases even brands). Lots of yoghurt products…yummm… Prices in the grocery store ranges from (Norwegian prices +10%) to (Norwegian Prices +100%), that is to say, expensive.

– Icelandic, with its close connection to Old Norse, is easily one of the most bad-ass languages in the world. I also feel like I’m in some kind of weird drugged dream whenever I hear it spoken. Often times I catch the beginning or end of a sentence or a conversation and I could swear they are speaking regular Norwegian. Then when I tune in for the rest, their perfectly understandable speech degenerates into complete nonsensical combinations of familiar sounds, which just adds to my fascination. Add to this the fact that Icelandic gains instant sexiness from its frequent use of the letter ∂, with a slash through it. Oh ya, the funky p (which I can’t figure out how to type on this keyboard) is also kind of neat but ∂ is still my favorite and I think we should all reintroduce it into our own alphabets.

Sept 7

– Bicycle Rentals and Hitler You can rent a bicycle at Hverfisgata 50, which runs parallel to Laugavegur. They rent out mountain bikes with a lock included for 2000kr per 24 hours which I found to be great if you want to bike around the town’s back streets and visit its parks and museums. I would have used it for a day ride out of the city but today the weather was terrible in the morning. The door to the mountain bike store had strange yellow index cards wedged into various posters hanging there. If my Icelandic-guessing engine is functioning, each card posed strange open-ended questions like, “Is Israel part of Europe?” and the more bizarre, “Was Hitler evil?” (Var Hitler vondur?). This reminds me of the kind of tactic used by any cause trying to problematize some widespread idea, e.g. “Did evolution happen?”

–Back-streets and Houses I spent the morning biking around the west and northwestern areas of Reykjavík. The older houses often have a pretty normal scandinavian color and design found in other towns, but as to be expected there is much less wood. Instead, what looks like wooden boards from a distance on closer examination turns out to be sheets of metal siding. Newer houses and larger structures in the town mostly seem to be made of stone. There is a surprising amount of graffiti in a town of this size, both downtown and in the neighborhoods. There is much the same in many places in Stavanger, Oslo and other Scandinavian areas but I somehow expected there to be less here. There quite a high density of schools and lutheran (the state religion) churches in the city given its small size. They also have quite a few parks, both in the interior of the city and along its coastline.

– The Culture House The Culture House can be found at Hverfisgata 15. It houses an exhibit of Iceland’s prize medieval manuscripts, information on the history of the Sagas, and an area dedicated to the history of book writing. There are also temporary exhibits on the 2nd and 3rd floors, a gift shop and a small cafe.

The “Medieval Manuscripts: Eddas and Sagas through the ages” on the 1st floor was wonderful. It gave an interesting overview of the history of the sagas, and had many of the rare manuscripts on display, but at least half of the exhibit was historiographical. There were sections on the role of these various texts in the romanticism and nationalism of Iceland and the North, their appropriation by the Nazis for its Aryan crusade, role in pop culture, and even a description of how the street names and layout in Reykjavík were structured to mirror the sagas and nordic myths (see separate posting). Translations of captions into English were available throughout with Danish also in the manuscript display rooms (many of these manuscripts were returned by Denmark in the early 1970s). Most of the manuscripts on display are early 13c and almost all in Old Norse. Latin works were quite rare in Iceland, which probably has to do with the particular relationship between Christianity and society on the island and perhaps the generally non-Latin educated nature of much of the writing class.

I really think the exhibit was great for several reasons: 1) It had a tight narrative which combined history and historiography in a way that the visitor never felt patronized. 2) It combined informational captions, maps, displays, lighting and artifacts skillfully. However, it also made good use of documentaries shown by TVs, the occasional iMac set up for visitors to check out online resources (For example: Stofnun Árna Magnússonar á Íslandi (If you understand Icelandic, check out their online section of Folklore recordings here and their Digital Manuscript Collection) and a flash story site called “Europe of Tales“). Perhaps the only thing I could complain about was the use of some images without providing context. For example, when describing the medieval parliament, they used a painting depicting it made during romanticist movement of the 1800s. That would have been nice to include for context, because the image and the way it portrays the parliament are useful in understanding the nationalist idealization of Iceland’s independent commonwealth period prior to its subordination to the Norwegian (late 13c) and later the Danish crown (14c).

Currently the 2nd floor has a fantastic exhibit “Reflections on Iceland” which I really enjoyed. It had put maps and travel literature about Iceland on display from throughout the centuries. It was interested in giving the visitor glimpses about what others had to say about the island and its people throughout the ages, both good and bad. The descriptive captions were in Icelandic but along the wall was a packet of laminated sheets with English translations of everything. What made the displays especially effective was that they lined up the works roughly chronologically and put works which referred to each other in juxtaposition. For example, one caption would describe how one writer, who may never have actually been to Iceland, said this, that or the other, then next to it we would find the next publication by some author determined to refute the slanderous writings of his predecessor. I only wish that much of this display’s information and captions were available online, something I will have to check when I post this and get online.

The 2nd floor also had an interesting exhibit dedicated to the Mormons of Iceland and, in particular, the migration of over 400 Icelandic Mormons to Utah. It followed their history from conversion to their long and troubled journey via England to the United States.

– Outdoor Picture Exhibit Throughout the downtown area there is currently an outdoor picture exhibit. These are a great way to give visitors and residents a feeling of connection to the past. The pictures dated from around 1905 through to the 1970s and offered scenes of importance and the every day often with interesting trivia added about the development of a particular sector of the city, and important events that had left their mark by pointing out things in the background.

During World War II Britain invaded Iceland and would have done the same to Norway if the Germans hadn’t gotten there first. They later turned control over to the US, which became the only military defense for the island until this year (the American Icelandic Defense force is shutting down completely this month, I believe). In one picture around the time of the 1944 declaration of an Icelandic republic, which finally severed the final tie that the island had to the Danish crown, I was surprised to learn that the Danish king, then in his own German-occupied Denmark, actually sent a letter of congratulations to the Icelandic people. It is not the benevolence of the king which surprises me, there isn’t much he could have done about it, but rather that he could do such a think while he was in a post-1943 (when German control strengthened in Denmark) occupied Denmark sending congratulations to the inhabitants of an island occupied by his occupier’s enemy.

– Kaffitár The rain compelled me twice to seek the comfort of coffee shops. I spent a few hours today continuing my reading the second volume of Ingar Sletten Kolloen’s biography of Knut Hamsun. In one very nice coffee shop on Laugavegur, Kaffitár (a chain I also saw at the airport and shopping mall, unless it just means generic cafe), I was surrounded by Macintosh users downloading their internet from the cafe’s free internet connection. If you buy coffee, and you are faced with several options, the one starting with “Sel…” something is “Dark Roast”

– The National Museum After more biking around in the early afternoon I paid a good 3 hour visit to Iceland’s National Museum. My notes on this got long enough for a separate posting which I’ll upload separately.

– See some pictures from my two days in iceland via the picture page, or directly here.

UPDATE: Nathanael of the Rhine River blog has a few notes on the Gothic architecture of Reykjavik.

Iceland Wins The Viking Wars

– These first two street signs are to be found in my hometown of Stavanger, Norway while going for a walk in my neighborhood last week. I wanted to start a little collection of pictures showing how Norway is crazy about its viking past. However, I just have to concede that Icelandic national identity has completely out-done all the other Scandinavian countries in their endless use of viking images, words, and symbols. There is everything from Viking beer to Viking hotels, and every other thing seems to have the words Saga, Edda, famous vikings, or one of the Norse gods in it.

If you want street signs examples, there are plenty of them. I’m sure the whole Nordic pantheon must be represented within just a few blocks of the downtown area of Reykjavík. I’m not always familiar with the spellings, but I’m pretty sure they are the same guys. It would actually be great fun to teach kids some of the old myths, and then drag them through the town to look at signs and have them identify things. For example, “Hey kids, what is the name of this health food store from?”

Then you could cruise up on the hill to that funky Lutheran church and point at the massive statue in front and say, “Hey kids, who is this big hunk of a viking? I’ll give you a clue, he wasn’t no Lutheran, and he sold a map to Columbus…Hey no cheating…nobody is allowed to look at the names on any of the streets connected to this roundabout or the name of that bed & breakfast across the street…Hey Jón, I didn’t say you could read the inscription on the back…”

The Culture House (which I mention in my posting on my “Notes from Iceland”) had a great little section talking about just this phenomenon in its great historiographical section:

“In the first half of the 20th century, street names in Reykjavík drew heavily upon the sagas, and the layout was even intended to reflect their plots. Skarphé∂insgata (“Skarphedin’s street”) lies east and south of streets named after his parents, Bergpórugata and Njálsgata and between the couple is Barónsborg kindergarten, recalling their fate when they lay down to die in their burning farmhouse with their grandchild Thord Karason between them.”

Ok, so imagine working at the kindergarten and giving some new parents the tour, “Oh ya, did I mention that our kindergarten is conveniently located in such away to remind everyone of the burning corpses of Bergpóru (sp?) and Njál?” Above the caption was a map to show some of the examples:

Iceland’s National Museum

Yesterday afternoon, I paid a visit to Iceland’s National Museum, located just next to its largest university, the University of Iceland. The museum is in nicely designed church-shaped concrete structure with three floors, a gift shop and cafe. The upper two floors are the permanent exhibit with temporary exhibits on the first floor.

Like many nationalist historical museums, the permanent exhibit tries to describe the centuries needed to accomplish “The Birth of the Nation” which, appropriately, was the title of the exhibit. The structure of the Icelandic national historical narrative is very similar to that of the Norwegian one (and dozens of other national narratives around the world). There is a glorious, if violent golden age which is celebrated as the source of national virtues, symbols, and heroes. This is followed by a decline and corruption of this noble tradition, followed by a long dark domination by a foreign power when the culture and independence of the nation are suppressed. The nation then emerges once again from the darkness as its glorious past is remembered and the national spirit awakens during its struggle for freedom from its oppressor.

In the Norwegian case, the Viking age, when we raped, burned, and pillaged Western Europe are the “good old days.” Mongolian nationalists know exactly what I’m talking about when they think of their own “good old days.” I mean, this was the period when we showed the world what it really meant to be Norwegian. This is the age from which the national symbols, stories, and heroes are taken. This is followed by the “500 years of night” when we were under the control of the Danes and our language and culture were suppressed by those evil Danish overlords. Apparently nothing of any real consequence happened at night, except that Reformation thingy. We then have a century of a kind of pre-dawn frost under Swedish domination, during which Norwegian nationalists rediscover their pure language and culture and rant about those horrible centuries of damaging Danish dominion and followed by full independence in 1905.

The Icelandic case shares much of this story but with less raping and pillaging, more democracy, and Norway gets to play a brief role as the bad guy. The roots of the Icelandic nation, if I have absorbed the narrative correctly, is to be found in the democratic and individualistic glory of the Commonwealth period, dating from the settlement of Iceland in the late 800s until it finally came to an end with Norwegian domination in the mid 1200s. The democratic legislative/judicial role of a kind of parliament (the althingi-mabob, can’t remember how to spell it) is a central source of pride. The next great source of pride is the incredibly rich production of literature – which all of Scandinavia and Germany have shown their great respect for. This glorious age was followed by the dark ages of domination first by Norwegians and then the Danes. Lots of nastiness ensued, granted, not all of it Danish. The Black death came late in the early 1400s and carried off half the population. The Reformation thingy went really bad. A Danish monopoly on trade for two centuries begins in early 1600s. Volcanoes erupt in late 1780s, including one under a glacier which all caused a terrible mess. Then, by a series of steps towards independence beginning in the late 1800s and later in 1905, 1918, the nation finally completed its lengthy birthing with the founding of the republic in 1944 while, perhaps a bit ironically, under US wartime occupation.

The museum was wonderful, especially since the population of the entire country is smaller than the last Tokyo suburb I lived in. Like the Cultural House, they did a fantastic job of presenting the materials with lots of little subject-specific areas. They also had about two dozen short documentaries available for viewing at screens place throughout the museum. Each screen had 1 to 3 mini-documentaries, which in turn were divided into 2-5 chapters. Each chapter in turn had supplementary pictures and texts covering aspects that were mentioned during the documentary chapter. It was interesting, effective, and in case someone is hogging a screen with documentaries you want to see, at the end of the 2nd floor there is a “Reading Room” with half a dozen computers that have all the documentaries viewable (unfortunately, all the books in the Reading room were in Icelandic, and thus, unreadable). They also had “touch and feel it” rooms with various clothing and other items. They had little telephones you could pick up which would tell about the daily life and stories of one particular individual (such as a fisherman). They had examples of their four kinds of national dress.

I was also impressed that the visitor was not treated like an idiot (although the little cartoon-like figures in the documentaries were slightly cheesy they helped the viewer recognize and identify players in the sometimes complicated power struggles described). I’ll give one cute example. One of the mini-documentaries surrounded the theme of Christianization of Iceland around 1000. The documentary faithfully described the process as it is recorded in the sagas (I can’t remember which, but every documentary had a “references” button with a full Icelandic language bibliography). It basically says that the entire country converted together (allowing pagan worship in private) because that was the reasonable thing to do. “An unlikely story,” I thought to myself. Then I noticed the title of the last chapter was, “Is the story true?” When it started playing, the English language voice started, “An unlikely story?” It then confesses that we cannot always trust the stories handed down but that overall, the process of Christianization did proceed quickly and with relatively little violence. How many Korean, Chinese, and Japanese museums have I visited where I wish I could push the “Is the story true?” button…

The only disappointing thing about the museum is perhaps partly due to the fact that the theme of the exhibit was “the birth of the nation.” You see, once the nation is born, there isn’t much else to say, is there? This means that the 20th century, as in the case of many other historical museums got very little space. I get the feeling that the museum’s designers just took all their 20th century material, put it in a pile and said, “What should we do with all this stuff?” Then, after a few desperate moments of silence, perhaps someone piped up with the idea, “Hey let’s put all this stuff on a kind of revolving conveyor belt, kind of like in the airport baggage claim or like one of those sushi restaurants!” Apparently everyone thought that was a good idea because that is what happened to Iceland’s history in the 20th century. I was a bit depressed to see a little pile of items labeled “World War II” as its place on the conveyor belt creaked slowly by me. There was a little more than just the conveyor belt, but considering the huge changes on the island in the last hundred years, a lot more space could have been given over to it.

Ølberg

I was well on my way to spending a lazy Saturday reading on the couch but the wonderful weather outside convinced me I should hop on my uncle’s bicycle and go for an afternoon ride. I have blogged a little bit about some of these delightful afternoon rides that I took to Mosterøy and Rennesøy last summer. Today I rode along the western coast, passed the airport and Sola beach to the area known as Ølberg, now perhaps best known as the location of a small beach, harbor, cafe, and a few recreational cabins.

My hometown, Stavanger, is on a peninsula, north of which are to be found countless islands and the thousand meter tall cliffs that hang over the deep fjords such as Lysefjorden. To its south until one reaches the town of Egersund there is a stretch of land known as Jæren. The land south of Ølberg already resembles the larger region of Jæren and the terrain, which is mostly farmland up this point, is dominated by rolling hills and very rocky grassland, dotted with the occasional grazing grounds for sheep. The coastline is also very rocky, and one can occasionally find fascinating layered rock formations there.

After basking in the sun on the rocks near Ølberg, I rode a few kilometers south to the village of Tjelta before turning back towards Stavanger. Tjelta is a strange place and along the coast there I found a number of huge houses that I could only describe as decadent. Apparently some rich construction magnate lives here. He may have been the old man I saw driving an antique automobile back and forth along the road I passed. He may have been related to the child I passed who was driving a full-sized golf cart down the hill towards another house (the kid could not have been more than eight or nine years old, his head barely reached over the golf cart’s steering wheel. I almost fell off my bike staring at him in wonder).

One thing I thought about as I rode was how the landscape of Norway’s coastline still bears the scars of World War II. I must have passed at least half a dozen German bunkers on ride today. The thing which stands out the most at the small harbar at Ølberg is the bunker on top of the hill. Throughout Stavanger and the entire region (probably most of the more strategically important coastline of Norway) the empty shells of these bunkers can be found along the beaches, coastal cliffs, and embedded in the hills near the coast. Some of them have been filled in by local farmers, others serve as hangouts for local youths and gangs and are filled with graffiti and trash. The remains of the bunker at Ølberg was somewhat more elaborate than most, as a number of passageways and the concrete base of what may have once mounted a coastal cannon or other structure also remains (some more pictures here, here, and here) They are a constant reminder of the fact that German forces once occupied the country and peered across the water on the lookout for any potential British invasion force.

I’m sure these bunker remains and other similar sites are to be found in many places around Europe and these visual reminders of the war must invoke complex memories for many. For children, however, these sites are often just exciting or mysterious locations to play games or engage in mischief. In my own case, the German bunker in my grandmother’s neighborhood where I played every summer as a child (on the hillside less than 60 meters from where I now type this blog entry) was filled in by a local farmer. That didn’t stop me and another childhood friend from trying to pry loose a large rusted piece of something (it was a long tube of some kind) from the rocks in the bunker. We imagined it was part of some wartime weapon. As I lifted the piece and my friend tried to remove some of the rocks under it. However, I lost my grip and the rough edge of the rusted metal badly tore the skin from the back of my friend’s hand as he tried to remove it. I took it at the time as a sign that such things are best left undisturbed.

A Few Anecdotes

I’m writing this on my way back from a short trip to Japan where I presented at a conference held at Waseda. It was a great trip, and I got good feedback both at the conference and later directly from my old advisor from my two years spent as a research student at Waseda. I’ve collected a few anecdotes and thoughts from the trip which I thought I might post here.
Continue reading A Few Anecdotes

Lysefjorden and Dalsnuten

Two Korean friends, Seyeon and Youngsoo, visited me for a few days in Stavanger before continuing their month of travel around Europe. I treated them to some outdoor fun, a stroll around old Stavanger, and splashed about in a forest lake nearby my apartment. We rode the Clipper tour boat into the beautiful Lysefjorden and were lucky enough to get warmth and sun with only moderate cloud cover. I took them walking about the city and Sandnes and up nearby Dalsnuten, probably the shortest climb nearby and fitting for a couple of city slickers.

I think they enjoyed their time here, and it will provide a bit of contrast to their more urban and cultural sightseeing elsewhere south on the mainland. Interestingly, I think they were most impressed with my young cousin Frida. They seemed to appreciate her vibrant energy and fearless adventurer’s spirit.

They seemed especially surprised when, as we approached our neighborhood forest, she jumped off her bike and ran full speed into an unharvested wheat field, rolled about in the tall stalks there, and yelled for my friends to join them.

I have uploaded a selection of pictures from Lysefjorden and the short Dalsnuten climb closer to the city:

Lysefjorden and Dalsnuten Pictures

Trollkjeften, the Mouth of the Troll

Sunday was hiking day. I have been biking around islands recently, but it was time to head to the mountains for a nice day trip. Joining my uncle, cousins, and a number of friends, we took the ferry to Tau, and drove to one of my favorite places to hike in this area: Trollkjeften.

I don’t know if this is the official name of this mountain ridge, riddled with caves, but the locals apparently call it that. Thomas heard rumors that there were a lot of caves in some mountain in the area when he was in the Norwegian military but old locals he spoke to had never heard of them. I can’t remember how he finally found them but he has been visiting them ever since. Each time Thomas brings his climbing equipment and we enter the almost hollow mouth of the troll by rappelling into one of the deep chasms on the top.

The Ghost in the Mountain

The last time I joined him here was in high school, on a camping trip with children from Stavanger’s karate club. He sent a friend and fellow climber up the mountain and into the caves the day before to hide the skeleton of a sheep. After we arrived and had all rappelled into the mountain’s interior, we set up candles around the edges of a large cavern. There Thomas proceeded to tell us the (fictional) story of a group of German soldiers who went into the mouth of the troll during the war while looking for Norwegian resistance forces who had earlier abandoned the caves. Thomas claimed that the Germans fled in fear of something inside the mountain but that one of their troops never emerged from the cave alive…

At just this point, and the timing just couldn’t have been better – one little boy suddenly jumped up and screamed at the top of his lungs. All of us turned our flashlights to him and saw that throughout the telling of the story he had been sitting on pile of bones… Only later that night did Thomas tell me that the bones were not human and I don’t think the other children were ever told. As best as I can remember, we all fled the cavern in fear.

Today Thomas told me that the boy was apparently not permanently traumatized by the shock and is now a university student in Oslo. However, he apparently told Thomas that he has never forgotten that moment of complete terror.

The entrance we chose to rappel into today involved dropping down about 23 meters and connected to a medium network of cave passageways. There are hundreds of such entrances and cave passageways, slimy dark granite slits found in a mountain which essentially amounts to a large pile of huge boulders left by the glaciers.

The kids loved this trip, as of course did we. Rappelling is lots of fun, and not something non-climbers get to do much for fun, not to mention cave exploration. We explored the mountain’s interior for a few hours, and then made our way back on a trail taking us through a mossy forest and a refreshing swim in the river below. All of the forests are covered in a bed of heather and blueberry bushes. At any point we could reach down for a bit of sweet blue goodness and like most hiking trips which include a pass through a forest in this region, the adventurer can scarcely avoid returning without fingers stained dark blue. The mountain waters are delicious and as always, we refilled our water bottles anywhere we came across running water.

I posted various pictures from our trip today here:

Trollkjeften Pictures

Mosterøy

After my adventures at the city archive, I checked the sky to confirm decent weather and embarked on this afternoon’s biking adventure. I packed a book on Norwegian treason trials and took the bus out to Mosterøy, which is just north of Stavanger’s peninsula and reachable by tunnel and bus. For anyone making the same trip in the future, remember that when you get off on the island, you can’t continue on the same road by bike, since you will soon find yourself in a 4.4km tunnel where bikes are not welcome. You have to bike back to an intersection and turn left to get access to the island proper. Or, like me, you haul your bike east off of the road, up a steep hill, and crawl screaming through some thick thorn bushes until you find the island’s main road (helpfully named Mosterøyveien or Mosterøy road).

Only a few kilometers west of the bus stop, in the low hills of this cute farming community is Utstein Kloster, an old monastery well-known in this region. The coast is dotted with farms, boat houses, and signs advertising the sale of potatoes, tomatoes, cucumbers, and other vegetables. You’ll pass by lots of sheep, cows, and horses on your way, as well as the runes of stone houses and fences dating back one, some almost two thousand years. The bike ride altogether takes less than 45 minutes at a leisurely pace.

The location of Utstein Abbey is apparently already mentioned in historical records going back as far as 800, according to the museum pamphlet but the main structure was built in the 13th century. It was inhabited by Augustinian monks until the Reformation hit. It was neglected until the 20th century when it was restored and turned into a museum and event center. Just last week some American theater company performed King Lear at Utstein Kloster, a really charming location for a play like that.

After going through the rather small grounds of the main building, I went out back and basked in the sun, listened to the wind blow through the huge trees surrounding the monastery, and actually got a few good hours of reading in before biking back! The confused museum staff waved hello to me on the grass, probably wondering why I spent much more time outside than inside the main building. I’m starting to realize that my location here makes it possible to truly study in style…

Hålandsvatn

After a night and morning of heavy rain, the sun emerged from the thinning clouds this afternoon, long enough for me to put my reading aside for a few hours and go out to enjoy it. I hunted down my young cousin, borrowed his bicycle and went on a short bike ride to one of the two lakes nearby, Hålandsvatn. Both lakes have nice trails around them and are absolutely wonderful when the weather is good, whether is it for a walk, a picnic, or some swimming in the summer.

The area surrounding the lakes are mainly residential areas and a few farms. On my hour and a half or so bike ride around the lake and back to the apartment, I passed all sorts of creatures, some pictures below.
Continue reading Hålandsvatn

Another Reason to Improve My Korean

I finished my summer of language study in Seoul and I’m on my way to Norway. I’m writing this in Dubai airport while waiting for my flight to London. I’m enjoying a McDonald’s “McArabia Meal” which the advertisements assure me will offer me an “authentic taste” of this region. I knew I could trust the golden arches to provide me with a taste of the real Arabia.

My journey here was interesting one, and gave me a last reminder of how nice it would be if I could really speak Korean well.

While waiting to board the plane, suddenly a crew of police sniffer dogs came to the gate and sniffed everything. While Seoul’s airport has lots of security guards marching around in pairs with very impressive looking semi-automatic weapons, I was surprised to see that the KP team was soon replaced by about a dozen armed security guards who took up positions around the seating area of our lounge, surrounding us and watching over our “perimeter” while we waiting for the boarding announcement.

I couldn’t figure out what the fuss was all about so I looked around for politicians or other famous personages. The only person who looked out of place was some military officer who had two or three rows of those badly matching but very colorful collections of little badges on his uniform that, you know, all those generals and stuff wear. I thought perhaps he was our illustrious passenger but he seemed to be showing deference to a group of men who from a distance looked like perfectly casually dressed business men. It was hard to see because they were surrounded by a bunch darkly tanned identically dressed guys who looked something like a team of teenage high school basketball players going on a school trip.

When we boarded, I was surprised to see the security guards surround the team of youngsters and escort them through the first line and onto the plane, outside of which they then took up positions. The young men all wore light blue Umbro brand shirts, Umbro shorts, and identical Puma sneakers.

The fancily decorated military guy wished the men accompanying the team farewell and the rest of us were allowed to board the plane, passing by the security guards stationed at the plane entrances. By this time, I kind figured out what was going on…and had guessed that they were most likely some kind of athletes from the old Democratic People’s Republic of Korea up north.

I didn’t think much more about it until a few hours into our flight when I got into a conversation with a Dutchman at the back of the plane. He was telling me about his adventures working at the UNDP in Korea in the 1970s and the challenges of getting married to his Korean wife at that time. He then mentioned in passing that the snoring pile of athletes sprawled all over the back few rows of the plane were none other than the North Korean national soccer team…
Continue reading Another Reason to Improve My Korean