Fashion sense?

If I had to describe myself using three words, fashionista would not be one of them.
I knew going into this year that part of my "out-of-your-comfort-zone" experience would be living in a big city. I prepared myself for learning to use the subway system, living in a higher density area, hearing foreign languages and meeting people from around the world. What I didn't even think about, however, was fashion.

The only thing I can credit to my fashion repertoire is that I don't own Crocs or Uggs. For me, that's doing pretty good. I don't know the style rules of living in a city, and I've never been one to follow (or understand) the rules of dress anyway. 

Out of all the categories, this has been the greatest "culture shock." This is no Milan, but people here get dressed up. I'm not sure if it is typical "city dressy," but I know that I've seen more skinny belts and trendy leather boots in the past month than I've seen in my last 20 years of my life. Not to mention that there is a 4-story H&M in the Central Station. The style, from what my uneducated fashion eye can tell, is a mix between hipster, thrift store, and runway. Confusing, if you ask me.

image courtesy of Chictopia.com, if that tells you anything

Yesterday, I awoke to a downpour. Rain flowing in my ventilated window, so loud that it wakes you up kind of downpour. Yes! I thought. The great fashion equalizer = bad weather. I felt smug as I pulled on my rain pants, zipped up my multiple layers of fleece and shoved a hat on my head. "Let's see those fashionistas today!"

It turns out that they have seen this kind of thing before. After all, they live here. I was greeted at the T-bane station with patterned umbrellas, trendy trench coats, and designer rain boots. So much for that theory.

So, for now, I'm sticking to my favorite striped long sleeve T-shirt and brown skirt. Maybe if I feel fancy I'll throw on my red Keens. You see, my leather boots wouldn't fit in my ski bag.

MY version of Oslo fashion- an apron the past tenants left in the kitchen...

Lessons From a Norwegian Berry-picker

Lesson #1: Eat lunch before picking. For me this was two-fold. I needed a container to store the berries, thus my lunch container needed to be emptied. It also kept me from putting the berries into my mouth rather than into the cup.

Lesson #2: Have no shame. In August, this rule doesn't apply. There are berries everywhere, and a harvester can simply reach down at any point along the trail and grab a few. In September, the game changes. In a popular area like Sognsvann, many bushes are swept by people in August, leaving little for the late-comers. In September, the picker MUST be on hands and knees if they want to be successful. I can assure you that people will stare.

Lesson #3: Choose your bathroom area wisely. If "nature calls," make sure you go in an area you have already picked. You are bound to see berries in the squatting position, in fact, some say that provides the best angle. Trust me, it is awfully disappointing to realize that your bathroom is the richest berry area of the day.

Lesson #4: Wear long sleeves. Blueberries like damp shady places. Mosquitos like damp shady places. You do the math.

Lesson #5: Keep an eye on the clock. A Norwegian forest is like a casino. If you don't have a watch, you could be trapped there for the rest of your life. The sun sets late, and the evening glow lasts for hours. It is easy to be entranced by berry-picking!

Lesson #6: Make the most of your hard work!

Museli with fresh blueberries

Apple-Blueberry Crisp

Kon-Tiki!

We have a joke within our family about pilgrimages. I have been part of a few notable ones, including the Bowhunters Warehouse, the first Quaker Meetinghouse, and of course, Click and Clack's Car Talk Plaza above "Hahvard" Square. I can confidently report that today, I topped the charts. I made my pilgrimage, and it was AWESOME.

View from the ferry headed Bygdøy

As some of you know, I have been reading Kon-Tiki by Thor Heyerdahl. Heyerdahl was a zoologist, anthropologist and explorer from Norway. This is book is Heyerdahl's account of his experience attempting to prove his theory of island migration. He believed that the Polynesian Islands were first populated by natives of South America who traveled to the islands by raft. He couldn't get any support for his theory, and decided that the best way to prove himself was to sail a balsa wood raft across the Pacific Ocean. In 1947, along with five other crew members, Thor Heyerdahl did just that.

The crew of Kon-Tiki, 1947 (The author is third from the right)

 In the book, Heyerdahl takes the reader along with him, from the forests of Peru to the sandy beaches of Polynesia and the shark-infested waters between. The author tackles the book like an adventure novel. Despite what you may believe, it is far from a dry account of the day-to-day happenings of a bobbing balsa raft.

Today, I made my own (much shorter and less valiant) voyage to the Kon-Tiki Musuem, a short ferry ride away from central Oslo. I even wrangled a friend into joining me for the adventure. I explained my fascination with the voyage, and she still agreed, so off we went! 

Cruisin' on the Oslo Fjord

The museum is located on the Bygdøy Peninsula, home to numerous other museums, including the Viking Ship Museum.  

We headed straight for the Kon-Tiki building, which wasn't hard to find...

Could this be the museum about Polynesian islands?

My expectations were high, and the anticipation had been building since I finished the book on Wednesday. Needless to say, I was excited.

After a surprisingly reasonable entrance fee, we entered. The first display was about the Ra, Thor Heyerdahl's papyrus boat that he took across the Atlantic in the 1970's. Interesting, yes, but not the reason I had come. 

Then, I saw it: The vessel of legends. 

This was the real deal! I took too many pictures. I bored my companion with tales of misadventures on board. I lectured to whoever would listen about navigation techniques used on the voyage. I searched for signs of the important center planks needed for stability. I analyzed the bamboo hut and leaned far enough over the barrier to peak inside but still stay on my feet. Needless to say, I took it all in. 

The bow

Thor Heyerdahl and his team harvested nine balsa trees from the forests of Ecuador. They floated the logs down the Palenque and the Guayas to the Pacific, where they assembled the raft, according to historic building plans. No nails or metal of any form were used.

Bearded Kon-Tiki

The raft was named after the sun god who, according to legend, led his people from Peru to the islands of the Pacific. Native Peruvians and Polynesians had almost identical stories about Kon-Tiki, which strengthened Heyerdahl's argument.

The crew's "house" for 101 days at sea

This bamboo hut contained the radio corner and some room for sleeping. All of the meals were eaten right outside the cabin door.

View from the stern

The crew took 4 hour shifts at the steering oar in the stern of the raft. Once they were in the Humboldt Current, the sea did most of the work for them.

Hey! How did those seagulls get in here?

Camera, suntan cream, and food. What more do you need?

The crew had enough food supplies (military rations, provided by the US Government) on board for the whole voyage, but the fishing was great, so much of it went unused. The US Military supplied the crew with most of their gear, all of it in the testing phase. 

The whale shark, looming beneath Kon-Tiki

As you can tell, the Kon-Tiki was as great as I expected it to be. The journey that those six men took was a game-changer in the anthropologic debate. They took a huge risk trusting their lives to a couple of balsa logs, hemp rope, bamboo and canvas. The risk paid off, and it is an adventure that has gone down in history as a true "epic." As I reflected, I felt the sharp bite of the adventure bug. Watch out, World! Who knows what's next!

A Bus About Oslo

Today, I took a (free!) bus tour around Oslo with a gaggle of other international students. Although the morning was a rainy one, the enthusiasm was bright! 

I took a seat next to my Polish friend and we began the tour. Some of the destinations on the list I had already seen, but this time, I had a tour guide leading the way. We passed the first and only (known) sculpture that commemorated a prostitute. Who knew?! It even inspired the novel Albertine written by Christian Krohg, one of Edvard Munch's teachers.

The real highlight of the tour for me was the Viking Museum on the Bygdøy peninsula. These boats were incredible! 

Maybe it was the coxswain in me, but I could almost see the extended wooden oars from the ships. Imagine rowing this beast! In some cases, there would be 40 to 50 rowers! That is a lot of pair partners...

These ships were excavated from burial sites near Oslo. Wealthy citizens of the viking age were buried in them, along with horses, dogs, weapons, money, and relics. Some ships were well preserved, others not preserved at all, depending on the soil that they were buried in.

This ship was buried in an area of Oslo with clay soil. Although the weight of the clay broke the structure, the wood was preserved well, and the ship was able to be reconstructed with the original components.

The viking ships always had the steering oar on the right side of the boat. According to my guide, this is where the term "Starboard" came from!

It was a blast to get a glimpse into the Viking Age. It was impossible for me to wrap my brain around how OLD these vessels were. In the words of Eddie Izzard, this is "where the history comes from!" I was reminded of that many times today.

The Bygdøy peninsula is home to five museums, and the Viking Ship Museum was a great introduction. I'm sure I'll be back to explore the other four (especially the Kon-Tiki Museum! Keep your eyes open for the much anticipated "pilgrimage!"). 

For now, I'm sending a challenge to Humboldt Crew team- I think the most intimidating way to show up to Dad Vail 2011 is one of these beasts. You in?   

A walk along the Akerselva

 Sometimes just wandering leads you to the nicest places.