In our quest to get everything in the coffee shop just perfect, we did a lot of moving things around. In the beginning, I would move all of the tables and chairs into the art gallery in order to wash the floors. Later we switched out the tables, so that was no longer necessary. We moved around all of the cups, glasses, and bottles on our back wall, until we decided that we could take half of them out. In the interest of ergonomics and efficiency, we moved the coffee grinder to the other side of the espresso machine and moved the machine itself a few inches to the right and elevated it a few inches.
In the back of the house, we have moved our giant freezers around like puzzle pieces. Once we got our walk-in fridge working, we had to find suitable storage space for all of the random things that had been kept in there. Our motto has been, don't stop working until you get crabby. And even then, we usually only take a break.
Our menu has been the most stable with variations in daily specials and adjustments in prices. We have settled on several key winners - vegetable quiche, a pasta salad with roasted vegetables and feta, a smoked salmon plate. Initially we struggled with bread, but then we discovered that it was well worth the money to buy fresh bread from the stone oven bakery, open only during the summer, at Raulandsakademiet. Now we make sandwiches with that bread, too!
Now, I'm on vacation. My wonderful employees are taking excellent care of the coffee shop while I'm away. I don't think we're done with changing things at Kaffibaren Rauland, but at least I'm getting time to recharge!
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Showing posts with label food. Show all posts
Monday, July 26, 2010
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Kitchen activities
David is an excellent baker. Mostly he bakes bread, but sometimes we get carried away and make cakes and muffins. I have contributed (thanks to a shipment from Mom) to the baking of corn bread and corn bread muffins. Tonight I'm planning to try out chocoloate creamcheese muffins. Yum!
We have also experimented with sour dough. After a few false starts (involving a fair amount of mold) we got our culture in high gear. We made several loaves of rye sour dough bread and rye sour dough rolls before we moved on to wheat sour dough bread. That was good! It was an excellent compliment to either turkey or cream cheese with tomato slices and (home-grown) alfalfa sprouts.
I have made a large number of dinners that stretch to lunch for several days. After about a month of various combinations of canned corn, crushed tomatoes, kidney beans, onions, and ground beef, I moved on to more interesting food. We've have been eating pan-fried salmon, totally awesome orange chicken, various stir fry dishes, quiche, and last night was avgolimono soup.
Since we are both coffee connoisseurs, we made the decision at the beginning of the year (really over the summer) to grind our own beans. This takes time, but our coffee is definitely worth drinking, compared to pretty much everything else. Recently we received an order of loose-leaf tea and have been happily enjoying having options that suit all our warm beverage needs.
These culinary delights have led to a huge pile of dishes. Both of us are generally uninterested in washing them, so they stack up until we can't avoid them any longer. Our plan is to acquire a used dishwasher after the holidays to save us time and stress. I can't wait!
We have also experimented with sour dough. After a few false starts (involving a fair amount of mold) we got our culture in high gear. We made several loaves of rye sour dough bread and rye sour dough rolls before we moved on to wheat sour dough bread. That was good! It was an excellent compliment to either turkey or cream cheese with tomato slices and (home-grown) alfalfa sprouts.
I have made a large number of dinners that stretch to lunch for several days. After about a month of various combinations of canned corn, crushed tomatoes, kidney beans, onions, and ground beef, I moved on to more interesting food. We've have been eating pan-fried salmon, totally awesome orange chicken, various stir fry dishes, quiche, and last night was avgolimono soup.
Since we are both coffee connoisseurs, we made the decision at the beginning of the year (really over the summer) to grind our own beans. This takes time, but our coffee is definitely worth drinking, compared to pretty much everything else. Recently we received an order of loose-leaf tea and have been happily enjoying having options that suit all our warm beverage needs.
These culinary delights have led to a huge pile of dishes. Both of us are generally uninterested in washing them, so they stack up until we can't avoid them any longer. Our plan is to acquire a used dishwasher after the holidays to save us time and stress. I can't wait!
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Dyrsku'n
Dyrsku'n is what Americans would recognize as a country fair. There are booths selling everything imaginable from wool socks, belts, and used household items to sausages and tea. They also have large things available for sale, such as home appliances and farm equipment.
Like Farsund, Dyrsku'n also involves a set of obligatory performances. The perks are: 1) the festival pays for our travel and parking, 2) we get food vouchers and 3) we are allowed to have a fiddle case open for donations. The downside is that we have to play outside in varied weather a program that is rather patched together for an audience that for the most part could care less about our music.
We were required to play with the two students taking the half year program. They are both very talented musicians, but it was a challenge to come up with a common repertoire in such a short time. Adding to the stress was the fact that three of us had rehearsals and the performance in Rjukan the previous weekend which cut into the available time to rehearse for Dyrsku'n.
In the end things went well. It was hot and sunny in the morning with more and more clouds as the day wore on. We played our last set just before it started to rain. Some of the audiences were more generous than others and we wound up with about $15 each to take home.
Our earnings from the day did not make it home in the form of cash, however. After we put our instruments back in the car, we had an hour to wander around the fair before we needed to leave. Somehow we managed to not spend all of our money; $15 doesn't last very long in Norway. Now, I have wool socks and David has a new belt; we also have fresh loose-leaf tea and a cast iron pan for small pancakes.
Like Farsund, Dyrsku'n also involves a set of obligatory performances. The perks are: 1) the festival pays for our travel and parking, 2) we get food vouchers and 3) we are allowed to have a fiddle case open for donations. The downside is that we have to play outside in varied weather a program that is rather patched together for an audience that for the most part could care less about our music.
We were required to play with the two students taking the half year program. They are both very talented musicians, but it was a challenge to come up with a common repertoire in such a short time. Adding to the stress was the fact that three of us had rehearsals and the performance in Rjukan the previous weekend which cut into the available time to rehearse for Dyrsku'n.
In the end things went well. It was hot and sunny in the morning with more and more clouds as the day wore on. We played our last set just before it started to rain. Some of the audiences were more generous than others and we wound up with about $15 each to take home.
Our earnings from the day did not make it home in the form of cash, however. After we put our instruments back in the car, we had an hour to wander around the fair before we needed to leave. Somehow we managed to not spend all of our money; $15 doesn't last very long in Norway. Now, I have wool socks and David has a new belt; we also have fresh loose-leaf tea and a cast iron pan for small pancakes.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Farsund
The weather was not on our side this year. It rained pretty much constantly in Farsund. On Friday and Saturday nights the rain and wind reached impressive storm intensity.
As artists (and lowly student artists at that), the festival was not particularly well organized. We got conflicting messages about all of our concerts (time, location, what kind of concert). Other groups were also listed at the wrong time or wrong location in the official program. Still, it was a great time.
We drove out of Rauland on Thursday morning with a car packed full of instruments. Sveinung and I were bad passengers and slept almost the whole trip while David struggled to hold himself entertained in the driver's seat. We stopped in Evje and treated ourselves to espresso and pastries. After that we passengers did a better job of keeping the driver company; we worked on learning the rather complicated refrain to an entertaining mock ballad.
Upon arrival in Farsund, we found our hotel rooms, grabbed our instruments, and to the Reinlender Parade. Our first taste of the days to come was leading the reinlender parade, playing a tune we were supposed to be learning as we marched. This didn't really work very well since there was only one person who knew the tune and he was successfully drowned out by his drummer accompanist.
The parade ended in the public square with a festival showcase. We were asked to play a tune for the showcase a few minutes before we went on stage. Anna (who play two and one rowed accordions) hadn't been up to school yet and hadn't rehearsed with us all summer. Also, her accordion had some sticky keys. We played our safest tune. Needless to say, it didn't go as well as it could have.
That evening we rehearsed with the students from last year who had managed to get festival passes if they played parts of our concerts. It was here that the confusion began when we found out that our hour-long concert was actually a half hour, so we had to figure out what to cut of our largely unrehearsed program. In the end we divided our solo numbers between concerts and took the best of the group numbers.
Thursday night's party was short lived. We came late and had to get up early for Friday's concert. There were also not very many of us and we had a rather thin set of common tunes.
Friday we were scheduled to play in a Chinese restaurant. It was difficult to tell if the audience was interested in us, but eating their lunch, or not interested at all. We're going with the former because it makes us feel better. Later we went back to the restaurant since we got free lunch for playing; the food was pretty good, so I can understand if people we paying more attention to lunch than our music.
After Chinese food, we enjoyed a couple of concerts. The first was panel concert with a broad spectrum of the festival artists. From Kim Andre Rysstad (kveding) to Fosbrooks School (English music/step-dance - playing and dancing at the same time) the program was varied and entertaining.
We left early from that concert to get to Unni Boksasp and band. I think Unni is amazing, plus her band includes Ånon Egeland (my fiddle teacher and big name in Norwegian folk music) and Olav Mjelva. Her concert was a usual excellent. The only low point was a tune she composed about the woman who was her inspiration. I can forgive one tune in an otherwise fabulous hour long concert.
We went to bed early so we would be fresh and prepared for Saturday's concert. Saturday we got up early and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast. Then we headed over to the other hotel where we would be playing. We had a successful soundcheck in spite of our ridiculous combination of intruments (enrader, torader, gitar, seljefløyte, sang, harpeleik, 2 fiddles, and nyckelharpa for four people). Anna made it from her other performance just in time for us all to go on stage together. I think we played pretty well considering we were quite nervous and it was a little difficult to hear each other on stage.
After our performance we wandered off to find lunch and relax, having fulfilled all of our obligations for the weekend. The only place we found to eat at was the local pub in the center of town. As we got closer we read on their announcement board "HiT Studenter", that is... us. We headed back to the car and got our instruments, put our heads together and came up with a new set list. 45 minutes after realizing we were supposed to play the concert we started. It turned out to be the best of our concerts that weekend. We were relaxed, the audience was engaged, and we had a lot of fun.
When we arrived back at the hotel, I got a message that a relative had called. I called him back and got to meet up with my 4th cousin who lives in Farsund. That was pretty exciting - I hadn't seen him in at least 15 years, so there was a fair amount of family updating to be had.
On Sunday we allowed ourselves to sleep in a little before climbing in the car for the long drive home. Sveinung entertained us by learning to play melodies on the harpeleik the whole ride home.
After Chinese food, we enjoyed a couple of concerts. The first was panel concert with a broad spectrum of the festival artists. From Kim Andre Rysstad (kveding) to Fosbrooks School (English music/step-dance - playing and dancing at the same time) the program was varied and entertaining.
We left early from that concert to get to Unni Boksasp and band. I think Unni is amazing, plus her band includes Ånon Egeland (my fiddle teacher and big name in Norwegian folk music) and Olav Mjelva. Her concert was a usual excellent. The only low point was a tune she composed about the woman who was her inspiration. I can forgive one tune in an otherwise fabulous hour long concert.
We went to bed early so we would be fresh and prepared for Saturday's concert. Saturday we got up early and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast. Then we headed over to the other hotel where we would be playing. We had a successful soundcheck in spite of our ridiculous combination of intruments (enrader, torader, gitar, seljefløyte, sang, harpeleik, 2 fiddles, and nyckelharpa for four people). Anna made it from her other performance just in time for us all to go on stage together. I think we played pretty well considering we were quite nervous and it was a little difficult to hear each other on stage.
After our performance we wandered off to find lunch and relax, having fulfilled all of our obligations for the weekend. The only place we found to eat at was the local pub in the center of town. As we got closer we read on their announcement board "HiT Studenter", that is... us. We headed back to the car and got our instruments, put our heads together and came up with a new set list. 45 minutes after realizing we were supposed to play the concert we started. It turned out to be the best of our concerts that weekend. We were relaxed, the audience was engaged, and we had a lot of fun.
When we arrived back at the hotel, I got a message that a relative had called. I called him back and got to meet up with my 4th cousin who lives in Farsund. That was pretty exciting - I hadn't seen him in at least 15 years, so there was a fair amount of family updating to be had.
On Sunday we allowed ourselves to sleep in a little before climbing in the car for the long drive home. Sveinung entertained us by learning to play melodies on the harpeleik the whole ride home.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Uppsala
Since David and I are moving into a mostly unfurnished apartment, we have been shopping here in Uppsala. That is, we have basically lived at IKEA. I'm pleased to report that the IKEA in Seattle is very much like the IKEA in Uppsala. The Seattle IKEA really needs to get the self-serve soft-serve because it is the coolest machine.
In addition to IKEA we spent an afternoon/evening with David's sister, husband, and three kids. They are currently living in San Francisco, but are in Sweden for the summer. The whole family was great, plus I got to play with the baby (totally cute at 11 months old)!
We spent a day wandering around town and met up with one of David's friends from school. She was a load of fun. We sat outside and ate ice cream while she told entertaining stories about what seems to be a rather thrilling life. Later we managed to buy new clothes for me and new shirts for David; it had been far too long since my last shopping excursion.
On our last night in Uppsala, David and I made dinner. That is, I made spanikopita and David helped. Turns out, you can get pretty decent phyllo dough in Sweden. The rest of the family enjoyed the spanikopita, which we served with rice and salad.
We also packed the car that evening, which was quite the experience. The car was actually a full size van with most of the rear seats removed. We stuffed it full of clothes and bookshelves, necessities from IKEA and instruments. Somehow we managed to find enough room for ourselves as well.
In addition to IKEA we spent an afternoon/evening with David's sister, husband, and three kids. They are currently living in San Francisco, but are in Sweden for the summer. The whole family was great, plus I got to play with the baby (totally cute at 11 months old)!
We spent a day wandering around town and met up with one of David's friends from school. She was a load of fun. We sat outside and ate ice cream while she told entertaining stories about what seems to be a rather thrilling life. Later we managed to buy new clothes for me and new shirts for David; it had been far too long since my last shopping excursion.
On our last night in Uppsala, David and I made dinner. That is, I made spanikopita and David helped. Turns out, you can get pretty decent phyllo dough in Sweden. The rest of the family enjoyed the spanikopita, which we served with rice and salad.
We also packed the car that evening, which was quite the experience. The car was actually a full size van with most of the rear seats removed. We stuffed it full of clothes and bookshelves, necessities from IKEA and instruments. Somehow we managed to find enough room for ourselves as well.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
The delights of summer
Yesterday, between rain showers, I ate my lunch outside at the tables in front of the coffee shop. I had prepared for myself a salad teeming with the bounty of summer produce. While I sat on the mostly dry chair at a table that was definitely wet, eating my salad that seemed to increase in size as I ate it, I thought of the rainy summers in Seattle.
Perhaps it is global warming or my shady memory, but I don't remember summers in Seattle being long stretches of sunshine. I remember the comfortable rain. Perhaps it is more closely related to my summer habits of retreating into the cool dark basement with a special blend of Ghiradelli dark chocolate chips and walnuts in a Tupperware cup that someday would be taken to the beach and used as a digging implement losing its pleasantly smooth edge and becoming forever relegated to the back of the cupboard. In the hours while my parents were at work, I would watch tv mindlessly - making sure to follow the complicated system of turning on fans and closing hatches and windows to preserve the valued coolness of our stone house.
It must have been hot. It must have been hot because we went swimming in the sun. We all thought that swimming in the rain was the best, but swimming in the sun was necessary. When the weather was hot on the weekends we would pile in the Falcon and drive to Tacoma. Nana and Grandpa Arne always had fabulously delicious food (the broccoli chicken bake, salmon, potato salad, sour cream and onion potato chips, real sandwiches, PIE, ice cream in a variety of flavors, waffles with homemade jam for breakfast). The rest of the family tended to show up. Who wouldn't come for good food, swimming, and laughter?
Grandpa Arne's pool was the perfect place to play and get wet. It was a little short for laps that were more than recreational and diving was not allowed, but those limitations were not particularly bothersome. We floated, played games we'd made up (like Fox and the Eggs), and did tricks (mostly headstands and sommersaults). We'd get out when our fingers and toes looked like the prunes Grandpa and Nana ate every night before going to sleep and there were streaks of teal randomly distrubuted across out bodies where we had bumped into the walls of the pool, the aging paint had come off on our skin.
Sitting at a sidewalk cafe outside an art gallery, eating a bottomless salad, I started thinking about food as art in five dimentions. The fourth and fifth are clearly taste and time, but which is which? According to convention it is time that is the fourth dimention. But isn't taste more important? But perhaps the time to grow the ingredients and select them are as important as the art of the perfect composition of flavors. Taking time to taste the variety of ingredients is critical to the success of the piece. It also creates ample time to remember the delights of summers past.
Yesterday's Salad:
Iceberg lettuce (in Norway it still has a little green color)
Cabbage
Arugula
Onion
Carrot
Tomato
Avocado
Kidney Beans
Feta (marinated in olive oil and herbs)
Red wine vinegar
Oil and herbs from the feta
Chop the things that are choppable and mix together. Enjoy with friends or memories.
Perhaps it is global warming or my shady memory, but I don't remember summers in Seattle being long stretches of sunshine. I remember the comfortable rain. Perhaps it is more closely related to my summer habits of retreating into the cool dark basement with a special blend of Ghiradelli dark chocolate chips and walnuts in a Tupperware cup that someday would be taken to the beach and used as a digging implement losing its pleasantly smooth edge and becoming forever relegated to the back of the cupboard. In the hours while my parents were at work, I would watch tv mindlessly - making sure to follow the complicated system of turning on fans and closing hatches and windows to preserve the valued coolness of our stone house.
It must have been hot. It must have been hot because we went swimming in the sun. We all thought that swimming in the rain was the best, but swimming in the sun was necessary. When the weather was hot on the weekends we would pile in the Falcon and drive to Tacoma. Nana and Grandpa Arne always had fabulously delicious food (the broccoli chicken bake, salmon, potato salad, sour cream and onion potato chips, real sandwiches, PIE, ice cream in a variety of flavors, waffles with homemade jam for breakfast). The rest of the family tended to show up. Who wouldn't come for good food, swimming, and laughter?
Grandpa Arne's pool was the perfect place to play and get wet. It was a little short for laps that were more than recreational and diving was not allowed, but those limitations were not particularly bothersome. We floated, played games we'd made up (like Fox and the Eggs), and did tricks (mostly headstands and sommersaults). We'd get out when our fingers and toes looked like the prunes Grandpa and Nana ate every night before going to sleep and there were streaks of teal randomly distrubuted across out bodies where we had bumped into the walls of the pool, the aging paint had come off on our skin.
Sitting at a sidewalk cafe outside an art gallery, eating a bottomless salad, I started thinking about food as art in five dimentions. The fourth and fifth are clearly taste and time, but which is which? According to convention it is time that is the fourth dimention. But isn't taste more important? But perhaps the time to grow the ingredients and select them are as important as the art of the perfect composition of flavors. Taking time to taste the variety of ingredients is critical to the success of the piece. It also creates ample time to remember the delights of summers past.
Yesterday's Salad:
Iceberg lettuce (in Norway it still has a little green color)
Cabbage
Arugula
Onion
Carrot
Tomato
Avocado
Kidney Beans
Feta (marinated in olive oil and herbs)
Red wine vinegar
Oil and herbs from the feta
Chop the things that are choppable and mix together. Enjoy with friends or memories.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
New beginnings
The night before our final concert, when most people were busy packing and saying goodbye, I took a deep breath and leapt down a new path. Having had my own heart broken more often than I'd like, I have a tendency to be overly cautious both with my own emotional well being and that of others. The feelings I'd been having for David (a classmate) kept getting stronger the more time I spent with him; the more I thought about it, the more sure I was that I wanted to spend even more time with him. We are both very aware of the potential for negative ramifications if things go poorly next year, however things are going very well and I haven't been happier in a very long time.
Our first adventure as a couple was a cross-country tour. We took off from Rauland on a Saturday afternoon by bus. The plan was to catch the night bus to Uppsala (yippee!), but that plan fell through when the bus was full. I called everyone we knew in Oslo. A classmate of ours came through with his mother's apartment in a very nice neighborhood in Oslo. His mother was moving so, we got the place to ourselves for the few hours we were there.
Early the next morning we found our way back out of the courtyard (we were very nearly locked in) and back to the bus station. After nine long hours on the bus, we arrived at the central station in Stockholm where we met David's mother, Nina. We were very happy that she was in the city and driving up to Uppsala, because we were very hungry and had run into some money trouble (my bank card had stopped working and David was broke). She made good time and we arrived at his home outside the city and met his brother, Thomas, and father, Anders. Everyone was very welcoming - it was fantastic to be home.
After dinner we went for a walk in the forest, then took a shower, and played some music. We were generally exhausted from our journey, but it was good to move, good to play, and phenomenal to be clean. I could have slept through the whole following day, but it was Thomas' birthday so we got up early and woke him up with cake, song, and presents. It was very festive.
In the afternoon, David took me on an Uppsala sightseeing tour. We met a couple friends of his for coffee and sat outside at a cafe in the almost too warm sunshine. We did some shopping (cough drops and a new tooth brush), visited David's high school, the cathedral, and the salvation army. Before leaving town we stopped at the concert hall, both to admire the building and the view from the top floor.
Hot and tired, we headed back to the cozy valley David grew up in, stopping only for Swedish summer essentials (soft serve and dill chips). Back at the Rönnlund ranch (which is not a ranch in the slightest), Anders was preparing Thomas' birthday dinner (steak!). The brothers worked together to produce homemade pasta. As if all that weren't enough, the meal was rounded out with a caprice salad and a second round of birthday cake. David took me sightseeing in the neighboring valley afterward; the pleasant drive and long walk gave us ample time to talk about all kinds of things - and test the temperature of the water. I ended the evening having a somewhat involved conversation with Nina about my thoughts on Judaism; her mother was jewish, so it was an interesting discussion for both of us.
The next day we packed Thomas' car with our things and headed back toward Norway. We spent the evening with Peter, David's uncle, in Karlstad. Well rested we took off toward Geilo and the first NM in folkemusikk (formerly Landskappleiken). Our journey was slowed by a very punctured tire that we limped along on from Kongsberg to Geilo; we filled it once with air and once with foam. Upon arriving in Geilo ten hours later, we changed to the mini tire to be certain that we could drive to the gas station in the morning. In the morning we found out that the tire had four holes in it and we didn't manage to leave before replacing two tires (they wouldn't let us fix just the one).
Our first adventure as a couple was a cross-country tour. We took off from Rauland on a Saturday afternoon by bus. The plan was to catch the night bus to Uppsala (yippee!), but that plan fell through when the bus was full. I called everyone we knew in Oslo. A classmate of ours came through with his mother's apartment in a very nice neighborhood in Oslo. His mother was moving so, we got the place to ourselves for the few hours we were there.
Early the next morning we found our way back out of the courtyard (we were very nearly locked in) and back to the bus station. After nine long hours on the bus, we arrived at the central station in Stockholm where we met David's mother, Nina. We were very happy that she was in the city and driving up to Uppsala, because we were very hungry and had run into some money trouble (my bank card had stopped working and David was broke). She made good time and we arrived at his home outside the city and met his brother, Thomas, and father, Anders. Everyone was very welcoming - it was fantastic to be home.
After dinner we went for a walk in the forest, then took a shower, and played some music. We were generally exhausted from our journey, but it was good to move, good to play, and phenomenal to be clean. I could have slept through the whole following day, but it was Thomas' birthday so we got up early and woke him up with cake, song, and presents. It was very festive.
In the afternoon, David took me on an Uppsala sightseeing tour. We met a couple friends of his for coffee and sat outside at a cafe in the almost too warm sunshine. We did some shopping (cough drops and a new tooth brush), visited David's high school, the cathedral, and the salvation army. Before leaving town we stopped at the concert hall, both to admire the building and the view from the top floor.
Hot and tired, we headed back to the cozy valley David grew up in, stopping only for Swedish summer essentials (soft serve and dill chips). Back at the Rönnlund ranch (which is not a ranch in the slightest), Anders was preparing Thomas' birthday dinner (steak!). The brothers worked together to produce homemade pasta. As if all that weren't enough, the meal was rounded out with a caprice salad and a second round of birthday cake. David took me sightseeing in the neighboring valley afterward; the pleasant drive and long walk gave us ample time to talk about all kinds of things - and test the temperature of the water. I ended the evening having a somewhat involved conversation with Nina about my thoughts on Judaism; her mother was jewish, so it was an interesting discussion for both of us.
The next day we packed Thomas' car with our things and headed back toward Norway. We spent the evening with Peter, David's uncle, in Karlstad. Well rested we took off toward Geilo and the first NM in folkemusikk (formerly Landskappleiken). Our journey was slowed by a very punctured tire that we limped along on from Kongsberg to Geilo; we filled it once with air and once with foam. Upon arriving in Geilo ten hours later, we changed to the mini tire to be certain that we could drive to the gas station in the morning. In the morning we found out that the tire had four holes in it and we didn't manage to leave before replacing two tires (they wouldn't let us fix just the one).
Friday, May 15, 2009
A day in Aberdeen
I arrived in Aberdeen after flying from Seattle via Copenhagen. It was a long, long trip that was not made shorter by the fact that I had managed to dump most of a glass of wine on my lap in the early hours of the first flight. Having arrived in Scotland, I exchanged what was left of my US currency and hopped a bus to the Youth Hostel.
That sounds pretty good, except I didn't really know where I was or where I was going. At least not at the level that I like to know these things. The result was not catastrophic, but I did wind up getting off the bus about ten blocks early and hauling all of my luggage along the bus route to the Youth Hostel.
I got checked in, stashed my stuff (up three flights of stairs), and decided to go for a walk. Seeing as how I'd botched being prepared arriving in Aberdeen, I figured I might as well be prepared leaving the city. I walked through a long street of shops (stopping for coffee and a sandwich) and made a sharp right to the harbor. I had acquired a map, so I knew where I was headed.
I was headed to the ferry terminal. I wanted to know if there were luggage lockers that I could leave my bags in during the day, since check out was at 10am and the boat wasn't leaving until 5pm. What I could see through the tinted windows didn't indicate the presence of lockers, and I didn't really want to appear too suspicious on the deserted dock, so I started formulating a plan B. That consisted of 'there must be lockers at the train or bus station' which I had walked past on the way down.
I went grocery shopping and tried to refrain from purchasing the whole store. I only needed food for one day and I already had coffee. (I bought coffee and a travel mug/french press in Seattle) I found myself with cheese, crackers, smoothie, and a couple bottles of water. I'd been walking for a couple hours by the time I made it back to the hostel, ate, showered, and crashed.
In the morning, I got up, had breakfast, repacked, and checked out. I took a bus to the bus station and asked about luggage lockers; they directed me to the train station a bus away. At the train station I paid £4 to have my bags searched and stored while I wandered around. I figured both the search and the price were reasonable.
Freed from my burdens, I headed off to the art gallery. There I made a painstaking survey of everything (just about) on the first floor. Then it was lunch time (spicy carrot soup!) before almost the same consideration was given to the upper floor. There was a lot more to look at on the upper floor and I was getting tired so I didn't quite study everything. Also, there were a few rooms closed. I suppose I'll just have to go back if I want to really see everything!
Having exhausted the gallery, I headed into the toasty early afternoon sun. I read in the park for a while. I drank coffee in a shop where the Canadian barista asked if I was reading Swedish. I bought a pen to write postcards and then wrote them. Then, I reclaimed my bags and headed back to the ferry terminal. It was time for adventure.
That sounds pretty good, except I didn't really know where I was or where I was going. At least not at the level that I like to know these things. The result was not catastrophic, but I did wind up getting off the bus about ten blocks early and hauling all of my luggage along the bus route to the Youth Hostel.
I got checked in, stashed my stuff (up three flights of stairs), and decided to go for a walk. Seeing as how I'd botched being prepared arriving in Aberdeen, I figured I might as well be prepared leaving the city. I walked through a long street of shops (stopping for coffee and a sandwich) and made a sharp right to the harbor. I had acquired a map, so I knew where I was headed.
I was headed to the ferry terminal. I wanted to know if there were luggage lockers that I could leave my bags in during the day, since check out was at 10am and the boat wasn't leaving until 5pm. What I could see through the tinted windows didn't indicate the presence of lockers, and I didn't really want to appear too suspicious on the deserted dock, so I started formulating a plan B. That consisted of 'there must be lockers at the train or bus station' which I had walked past on the way down.
I went grocery shopping and tried to refrain from purchasing the whole store. I only needed food for one day and I already had coffee. (I bought coffee and a travel mug/french press in Seattle) I found myself with cheese, crackers, smoothie, and a couple bottles of water. I'd been walking for a couple hours by the time I made it back to the hostel, ate, showered, and crashed.
In the morning, I got up, had breakfast, repacked, and checked out. I took a bus to the bus station and asked about luggage lockers; they directed me to the train station a bus away. At the train station I paid £4 to have my bags searched and stored while I wandered around. I figured both the search and the price were reasonable.
Freed from my burdens, I headed off to the art gallery. There I made a painstaking survey of everything (just about) on the first floor. Then it was lunch time (spicy carrot soup!) before almost the same consideration was given to the upper floor. There was a lot more to look at on the upper floor and I was getting tired so I didn't quite study everything. Also, there were a few rooms closed. I suppose I'll just have to go back if I want to really see everything!
Having exhausted the gallery, I headed into the toasty early afternoon sun. I read in the park for a while. I drank coffee in a shop where the Canadian barista asked if I was reading Swedish. I bought a pen to write postcards and then wrote them. Then, I reclaimed my bags and headed back to the ferry terminal. It was time for adventure.
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Leave them wanting more
After three weeks in Seattle, I felt like I could really use another week there. I'd managed to see many of my friends and almost all of my family, but I would have liked to have spent more time with all of them. I managed to dance and fiddle, do my school work and relax. In three weeks, I slept in seven different locations, drank an ocean of coffee, and ate out an average of once a day.
Writing papers is a little like torture for me. It's not something I enjoy doing, even when the subject of the paper is something I absolutely love. Take for example the two papers I wrote while in Seattle - one on dance rhythms and one about singing for dancing Clearly these are topics that I enjoy talking about and have a strong interest in these activities themselves. I couldn't right the paper about singing until it was practically due.
(I was writing this on the boat to Shetland and at this point got coerced to the party in the middle of the boat. A story you will read later.)
I love Seattle. The people, the trees, the smell of the sea, the coffee shops, walks with the ladies, the weather (yes, really), everything except the traffic is great. December is a long ways away, but it will come and then I will be back home for another refill of life in the city. Until then, I have some good memories.
Staying with Warshaw family is always great. It is both relaxing and chaotic at the same time. I was fortunate enough to time my visit with passover, so I got to join them for their seder. Of course, my dad came too, and even on his best behavior (which he was on) he still manages to annoy me. Something about fathers and daughters, I suppose.
Springdans was fantastic! Lots of dancing, Norwegian and Swedish. It was fabulous to see folks I'd met in Sweden last summer. With a little bit of nudging we came to the conclusion that I can dance up again this summer, so I'm looking forward to that. Silver in Orsa, here I come! One of the highlights of the weekend was (after the traditional strip tease), of course, staying up really late playing music with Irene. She's just so much fun and so good! Not wanting the fun to end, I started scheming up a jam session for later in the week.
After camp, I spent a few productive days at Mom's. It was great to hang out with her, talking until late in the night drinking lambic and laughing. The second afternoon, Aunt Susie and Solvei came to visit. The weather was perfect and we crashed on the beach, watching the waves and talking about life. Those girls know how to have a good time. The sun went down, the beer was gone, and it was time for Susie and Solvei to head back to Poulsbo (Solvei had school the next day). Mom and I stayed up late again and I passed out after proclaiming that I wasn't tired.
I was woken up in the middle of the night by the feeling of a tail that was definitely not the cat's dragging across my foot. What followed was an hour long real-live cat and mouse game, essentially on the bed. I can't wait until Mom gets her cabin built. Of course, the cat (Finn the Hunter) won the game, with a satisfying, if revolting, crunch.
Back to Seattle for dinner in town with Mark A (way to represent!) and off to Anna's for a few days. If there's anyone who shares my love for chillin' like a villain, it's my best friend Anna. As an extra bonus it was her birthday, so we went out to as many meals as possible (not as easy as it sounds with a vegan). Then, to continue the Springdans fun, which Anna couldn't make it to due to work, we invited a star studded cast of the retired, self-employed, and unemployed to her house on Friday afternoon. It was a jam session for the record book and we could have kept going all night if we hadn't had to get over the the SCC to play the late night set at their happy hour.
Playing the happy hour is a very informal affair. You check with the Center to make sure you won't be conflicting with anyone and then you show up and play. The idea is to play for as long as people seem interested. After playing for 5 hours at Anna's, we played another two at the SCC. Almost all new tunes! What a day!
The rest of the weekend was paper writing crunch time and hanging out with the family. Both families really. I spent time with Sonya at the dental lab (holla!), had dinner with Mom in Ballard, one last night at the Warshaw's complete with Dad coming for dinner and the girls putting on a play. Perhaps a poor choice of pre-travel television, Mark and I watched 'Crashes that Changed Flight' until it was time to go to sleep. As much as I hate saying goodbye, setting off on the adventure to Shetland was exciting and I was really looking forward to getting back to Rauland.
Writing papers is a little like torture for me. It's not something I enjoy doing, even when the subject of the paper is something I absolutely love. Take for example the two papers I wrote while in Seattle - one on dance rhythms and one about singing for dancing Clearly these are topics that I enjoy talking about and have a strong interest in these activities themselves. I couldn't right the paper about singing until it was practically due.
(I was writing this on the boat to Shetland and at this point got coerced to the party in the middle of the boat. A story you will read later.)
I love Seattle. The people, the trees, the smell of the sea, the coffee shops, walks with the ladies, the weather (yes, really), everything except the traffic is great. December is a long ways away, but it will come and then I will be back home for another refill of life in the city. Until then, I have some good memories.
Staying with Warshaw family is always great. It is both relaxing and chaotic at the same time. I was fortunate enough to time my visit with passover, so I got to join them for their seder. Of course, my dad came too, and even on his best behavior (which he was on) he still manages to annoy me. Something about fathers and daughters, I suppose.
Springdans was fantastic! Lots of dancing, Norwegian and Swedish. It was fabulous to see folks I'd met in Sweden last summer. With a little bit of nudging we came to the conclusion that I can dance up again this summer, so I'm looking forward to that. Silver in Orsa, here I come! One of the highlights of the weekend was (after the traditional strip tease), of course, staying up really late playing music with Irene. She's just so much fun and so good! Not wanting the fun to end, I started scheming up a jam session for later in the week.
After camp, I spent a few productive days at Mom's. It was great to hang out with her, talking until late in the night drinking lambic and laughing. The second afternoon, Aunt Susie and Solvei came to visit. The weather was perfect and we crashed on the beach, watching the waves and talking about life. Those girls know how to have a good time. The sun went down, the beer was gone, and it was time for Susie and Solvei to head back to Poulsbo (Solvei had school the next day). Mom and I stayed up late again and I passed out after proclaiming that I wasn't tired.
I was woken up in the middle of the night by the feeling of a tail that was definitely not the cat's dragging across my foot. What followed was an hour long real-live cat and mouse game, essentially on the bed. I can't wait until Mom gets her cabin built. Of course, the cat (Finn the Hunter) won the game, with a satisfying, if revolting, crunch.
Back to Seattle for dinner in town with Mark A (way to represent!) and off to Anna's for a few days. If there's anyone who shares my love for chillin' like a villain, it's my best friend Anna. As an extra bonus it was her birthday, so we went out to as many meals as possible (not as easy as it sounds with a vegan). Then, to continue the Springdans fun, which Anna couldn't make it to due to work, we invited a star studded cast of the retired, self-employed, and unemployed to her house on Friday afternoon. It was a jam session for the record book and we could have kept going all night if we hadn't had to get over the the SCC to play the late night set at their happy hour.
Playing the happy hour is a very informal affair. You check with the Center to make sure you won't be conflicting with anyone and then you show up and play. The idea is to play for as long as people seem interested. After playing for 5 hours at Anna's, we played another two at the SCC. Almost all new tunes! What a day!
The rest of the weekend was paper writing crunch time and hanging out with the family. Both families really. I spent time with Sonya at the dental lab (holla!), had dinner with Mom in Ballard, one last night at the Warshaw's complete with Dad coming for dinner and the girls putting on a play. Perhaps a poor choice of pre-travel television, Mark and I watched 'Crashes that Changed Flight' until it was time to go to sleep. As much as I hate saying goodbye, setting off on the adventure to Shetland was exciting and I was really looking forward to getting back to Rauland.
Friday, April 3, 2009
A Weekend in Wonderland
After school on Friday we went on an adventure to Åmot. That is, we visited the liqour store. We knew we had a big weekend ahead of us, but managed to not buy the entire store. We headed home, made dinner and took naps. Around nine we called for a taxi up to the hotel.
I wanted to show my friends where I work. The hotel is decidedly more interesting than the dentist's office on a Friday night, but it still wasn't that busy. We hung out with the rest of the staff that had gotten off work, complained about the music, and looked at the paintings in the lobby. The crowd never reached critical mass to hit the dance floor, but that could have something to do with the music never being dance music. We took a taxi home and crawled into bed, happy and tired.
Saturday was loaded with potential. We started the day with mimosas (and mimosa floats) which may or may not have influenced the brilliant idea to build an igloo. Six hours later we had rolled some monster snow balls and formed them into the first two layers of a kids' igloo, right outside Åslaug's window. We were freezing, but I can't remember the last time I've had that much fun.
We went inside for some hot chocolate and wound up taking naps. We hadn't quite decided what we were doing with the evening, but we were certain that we weren't paying cab fare up to the hotel again and figured the local pub would be a good change of pace. We were right.
The bar was about half full. People looked at us like we were aliens. We acquired beverages and sat down. After about five minutes, a couple local guys (one in particular) decided that Rania and Christa were about the most interesting thing next to snow mobiles and started chatting them up. Rania, who is married, made a tactical bathroom break, putting Christa in the hot seat. Christa happens to be a pro at dealing with drunk small town boys.
They were about five minutes into conversation when he proposed marriage, which Christa declined. When the bar was closing, his friend wanted to head up to the hotel. We went with them, because that's where the rest of my friends were. We piled into the cab, the oil engineer, the factory manager, the fishmonger, the musician, and the law student, and headed off to breathe life into the the party at the hotel.
Christa's new best friend wasn't very exciting once we got up to the hotel. He mostly slept on the couch next to her. It gave me a chance to relax and talk to all of my friends, and there was definitely more dancing that evening! We waited for the bartender to give us a ride home, since he lives around the corner from me.
Sunday we had another long breakfast, this time without the champagne. We packed a lunch for Rania and took her down to the bus. She had to be back in London on Monday morning. Christa finished rolling snow balls for the igloo, while I cooked for the party I was hosting that evening. Åslaug came out to help us put the last layer on the igloo.
Christa and I managed to take a nap before my friends showed up for dinner. Usually, we don't get to enjoy dinner together at the hotel, so it was really nice that they could come down and spend time talking. The season ends while I'm in Seattle, so I won't see many of them again. It's a little sad, but a good excuse for a party.
Christa left on Monday for a business trip to Germany. I'll meet her again in Oslo on Saturday and then we'll fly back to Seattle together. It's crazy to think how soon I'll be home!
I wanted to show my friends where I work. The hotel is decidedly more interesting than the dentist's office on a Friday night, but it still wasn't that busy. We hung out with the rest of the staff that had gotten off work, complained about the music, and looked at the paintings in the lobby. The crowd never reached critical mass to hit the dance floor, but that could have something to do with the music never being dance music. We took a taxi home and crawled into bed, happy and tired.
Saturday was loaded with potential. We started the day with mimosas (and mimosa floats) which may or may not have influenced the brilliant idea to build an igloo. Six hours later we had rolled some monster snow balls and formed them into the first two layers of a kids' igloo, right outside Åslaug's window. We were freezing, but I can't remember the last time I've had that much fun.
We went inside for some hot chocolate and wound up taking naps. We hadn't quite decided what we were doing with the evening, but we were certain that we weren't paying cab fare up to the hotel again and figured the local pub would be a good change of pace. We were right.
The bar was about half full. People looked at us like we were aliens. We acquired beverages and sat down. After about five minutes, a couple local guys (one in particular) decided that Rania and Christa were about the most interesting thing next to snow mobiles and started chatting them up. Rania, who is married, made a tactical bathroom break, putting Christa in the hot seat. Christa happens to be a pro at dealing with drunk small town boys.
They were about five minutes into conversation when he proposed marriage, which Christa declined. When the bar was closing, his friend wanted to head up to the hotel. We went with them, because that's where the rest of my friends were. We piled into the cab, the oil engineer, the factory manager, the fishmonger, the musician, and the law student, and headed off to breathe life into the the party at the hotel.
Christa's new best friend wasn't very exciting once we got up to the hotel. He mostly slept on the couch next to her. It gave me a chance to relax and talk to all of my friends, and there was definitely more dancing that evening! We waited for the bartender to give us a ride home, since he lives around the corner from me.
Sunday we had another long breakfast, this time without the champagne. We packed a lunch for Rania and took her down to the bus. She had to be back in London on Monday morning. Christa finished rolling snow balls for the igloo, while I cooked for the party I was hosting that evening. Åslaug came out to help us put the last layer on the igloo.
Christa and I managed to take a nap before my friends showed up for dinner. Usually, we don't get to enjoy dinner together at the hotel, so it was really nice that they could come down and spend time talking. The season ends while I'm in Seattle, so I won't see many of them again. It's a little sad, but a good excuse for a party.
Christa left on Monday for a business trip to Germany. I'll meet her again in Oslo on Saturday and then we'll fly back to Seattle together. It's crazy to think how soon I'll be home!
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Rørosmartnan
To start with, Rørosmartnan is not just a folk dance and music festival. It is a full out market that takes over the town. There are craft booths and food booths and craft-food booths, guys selling fancy drills, lots of reindeer skins, and endless sausages, waffles, cocoa, and gløgg. Then there are concerts and dances on top of all that.
I arrived on Tuesday on the same train as Tom Sears who kindly pointed me up the hill to the cafe where my host was working that evening. I dragged my suitcase up past the church and met Sylvia. She gave me some cocoa and the directions to her house and off I went. I left my fiddle at the cafe because it was a long walk and I planned on heading out again.
I made it Sylvia's house, figured out which mattress on the floor was designated for me (she had eight people staying there) and headed back into the snowy evening. I walked past the cafe on my way to the hotel, so I picked up my fiddle, just in case. I was on my way to hear SVER play for dancing! I got to the hotel before they started and happened across them sitting in the lobby bar discussing their set list. I sat with the guys for a few minutes while I thawed and they got organized.
Playing for dancing at a hotel is not really very easy. First, they were playing in the bar, so most of the audience was sloshed. Then there was the large pillar in the middle of the dance floor which cuts down on maneuverability. Third is the floor itself was a typical concrete/tile job, so there weren't very many serious folk dancers taking part in the evening's festivities. I stayed content with listening to them play and taking a few photos. I was also exhausted and left when they took their break.
The next day, and every day, the middagsdans (mid-day dance) began at noon in Sangarhuset. Anyone who's been dancing in Norway knows that it's difficult to get a dance partner if you don't know anyone. Dance etiquette in Norway also indicates that once you're one the floor with someone it's polite to keep dancing with that person four or five dances (more if you're really enjoying it) and then suggest that you take a break after the next dance (or if a waltz or polka is being played). Fortunately, I knew two or three people that first day and that was enough to keep me moving most of the time.
Even if you're not dancing, in Røros it's fascinating just to watch the dancers on the floor. People come from all over Norway and Sweden (and we're a few Americans) to dance pols to the best Røros bands; you probably own their CD's - Glåmos spelmannslag, Småviltlaget, Brekken spelmannslag, Dalakopa. Sitting on the sidelines, you can see variations in all parts of the dance - and in four days of dancing there's plenty of variation to watch.
It's hard to choose what the most exciting part of dancing in Røros is. Is it the extremely high level of dance skill that almost everyone has? Dancing primarily pols for four days? Swirling around the dance floor like a school of sardines? The fabulous music? Dancing with friends? Dancing with friends you didn't expect to see? Dancing seven to ten hours a day without getting tired?
For me, the best experiences are those shared with people. That's one of the reasons I think dancing is so fantastic. One evening I was dancing with my friend Bjørn Sverre, who is a fabulous dancer with a lot of bounce in his style. I so admire his dancing that it was thrilling just do dance with him. But why was it so wonderful? One of my greatest joys is trusting the person I'm dancing with enough to give in completely and follow him (and the music) all over the dance floor. Bjørn Sverre commands this kind of respect and has earned my trust. He also leads so well that I find myself learning from him while we dance. There are so many ingredients that go in to making dance-magic!
The museum holds mid-day concerts. I went to 'Olav Mjelva and friends' which was of course excellent. And Bjørn Sverre gave a tour of Norway's bunads (he is fantastic to listen to, as well). I also saw SVER play packed into a tiny cafe with tons of fans; naturally jamming broke out afterward.
One evening I found myself in Kaffistuggu, thanks to Bjørn Sverre and an abundance of time. Kaffistuggu is an institution in Røros. It is a two story cafe with food and beer and lots of small spaces for musicians to play. And that is what happens during Martnan. The line can stretch for hours while people wait for enough space to get in. People packed close together, jam sessions pressing against one another like a car full of balloons. Walking through (if possible) one hears music on all kinds of instruments from accordion to hardingfele, played by everyone from local heroes to Swedens biggest stars.
The evening dances in Sangarhuset were essentially a continuation of the midday dances. On Friday night the evening was allowed to stretch until 4am with the much anticipated nattdans (night dance). Saturday's final dance was held at the high school gym, which has much less atmosphere and twice as much (or more) dance floor. It was strange to dance with so much space between the couples after dancing so close together all week. I guess it was a way to start saying good-bye.
When I got home from the dance that night, I fired up the wood stove. The girls I lived with were planning to have a little party to celebrate surviving Martnan - they had worked the whole week. When they got back we grilled hot dogs on the fire and ate candy and chatted. I got the distinct impression of a pack of cats lounging in the sun as we all sat there, exhausted and happy. One by one we started falling asleep and went to bed.
The real end of my Rørosmartnan story is the race to find a place on the train Sunday morning. Several hundred people line up on the platform waiting for the train to arrive and when it does, it is total chaos trying to get luggage and instruments and people onto the waiting train cars as fast as possible. The girls I was travelling home with and I all managed to get seats on the same car, which was a small miracle. Eleven hours later and very tired, we were home in Rauland.
I arrived on Tuesday on the same train as Tom Sears who kindly pointed me up the hill to the cafe where my host was working that evening. I dragged my suitcase up past the church and met Sylvia. She gave me some cocoa and the directions to her house and off I went. I left my fiddle at the cafe because it was a long walk and I planned on heading out again.
I made it Sylvia's house, figured out which mattress on the floor was designated for me (she had eight people staying there) and headed back into the snowy evening. I walked past the cafe on my way to the hotel, so I picked up my fiddle, just in case. I was on my way to hear SVER play for dancing! I got to the hotel before they started and happened across them sitting in the lobby bar discussing their set list. I sat with the guys for a few minutes while I thawed and they got organized.
Playing for dancing at a hotel is not really very easy. First, they were playing in the bar, so most of the audience was sloshed. Then there was the large pillar in the middle of the dance floor which cuts down on maneuverability. Third is the floor itself was a typical concrete/tile job, so there weren't very many serious folk dancers taking part in the evening's festivities. I stayed content with listening to them play and taking a few photos. I was also exhausted and left when they took their break.
The next day, and every day, the middagsdans (mid-day dance) began at noon in Sangarhuset. Anyone who's been dancing in Norway knows that it's difficult to get a dance partner if you don't know anyone. Dance etiquette in Norway also indicates that once you're one the floor with someone it's polite to keep dancing with that person four or five dances (more if you're really enjoying it) and then suggest that you take a break after the next dance (or if a waltz or polka is being played). Fortunately, I knew two or three people that first day and that was enough to keep me moving most of the time.
Even if you're not dancing, in Røros it's fascinating just to watch the dancers on the floor. People come from all over Norway and Sweden (and we're a few Americans) to dance pols to the best Røros bands; you probably own their CD's - Glåmos spelmannslag, Småviltlaget, Brekken spelmannslag, Dalakopa. Sitting on the sidelines, you can see variations in all parts of the dance - and in four days of dancing there's plenty of variation to watch.
It's hard to choose what the most exciting part of dancing in Røros is. Is it the extremely high level of dance skill that almost everyone has? Dancing primarily pols for four days? Swirling around the dance floor like a school of sardines? The fabulous music? Dancing with friends? Dancing with friends you didn't expect to see? Dancing seven to ten hours a day without getting tired?
For me, the best experiences are those shared with people. That's one of the reasons I think dancing is so fantastic. One evening I was dancing with my friend Bjørn Sverre, who is a fabulous dancer with a lot of bounce in his style. I so admire his dancing that it was thrilling just do dance with him. But why was it so wonderful? One of my greatest joys is trusting the person I'm dancing with enough to give in completely and follow him (and the music) all over the dance floor. Bjørn Sverre commands this kind of respect and has earned my trust. He also leads so well that I find myself learning from him while we dance. There are so many ingredients that go in to making dance-magic!
The museum holds mid-day concerts. I went to 'Olav Mjelva and friends' which was of course excellent. And Bjørn Sverre gave a tour of Norway's bunads (he is fantastic to listen to, as well). I also saw SVER play packed into a tiny cafe with tons of fans; naturally jamming broke out afterward.
One evening I found myself in Kaffistuggu, thanks to Bjørn Sverre and an abundance of time. Kaffistuggu is an institution in Røros. It is a two story cafe with food and beer and lots of small spaces for musicians to play. And that is what happens during Martnan. The line can stretch for hours while people wait for enough space to get in. People packed close together, jam sessions pressing against one another like a car full of balloons. Walking through (if possible) one hears music on all kinds of instruments from accordion to hardingfele, played by everyone from local heroes to Swedens biggest stars.
The evening dances in Sangarhuset were essentially a continuation of the midday dances. On Friday night the evening was allowed to stretch until 4am with the much anticipated nattdans (night dance). Saturday's final dance was held at the high school gym, which has much less atmosphere and twice as much (or more) dance floor. It was strange to dance with so much space between the couples after dancing so close together all week. I guess it was a way to start saying good-bye.
When I got home from the dance that night, I fired up the wood stove. The girls I lived with were planning to have a little party to celebrate surviving Martnan - they had worked the whole week. When they got back we grilled hot dogs on the fire and ate candy and chatted. I got the distinct impression of a pack of cats lounging in the sun as we all sat there, exhausted and happy. One by one we started falling asleep and went to bed.
The real end of my Rørosmartnan story is the race to find a place on the train Sunday morning. Several hundred people line up on the platform waiting for the train to arrive and when it does, it is total chaos trying to get luggage and instruments and people onto the waiting train cars as fast as possible. The girls I was travelling home with and I all managed to get seats on the same car, which was a small miracle. Eleven hours later and very tired, we were home in Rauland.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Birthday
Last Saturday was my birthday. In an effort to get prepared, I baked two cakes (well one cake and brownies) on Friday. Ok, the cake didn't really bake so much as rise up out of the pan and get burned while remaining completely liquid in the center. I made the decision to rescue the party by making a new cake, learning from the lessons of the first one.
On Saturday, I made cake. And Birgit made cake. And Mona brought cake. Eventually we had six cakes and ice cream to complement the dinner I made.
Dinner was deviled eggs, a couple of quiches, rice, and salad. I'd invited roughly eight of my friends for dinner and everyone else for dessert and party afterward. For me the highlight of the evening was sitting at the head of the table while everyone stood and sang the Norwegian birthday song!
The party continued until long into the night. We played games. We played fiddles. I got to talk to lots of people. It was a lovely way to spend my birthday, even though I missed my family and Seattle friends.
On Saturday, I made cake. And Birgit made cake. And Mona brought cake. Eventually we had six cakes and ice cream to complement the dinner I made.
Dinner was deviled eggs, a couple of quiches, rice, and salad. I'd invited roughly eight of my friends for dinner and everyone else for dessert and party afterward. For me the highlight of the evening was sitting at the head of the table while everyone stood and sang the Norwegian birthday song!
The party continued until long into the night. We played games. We played fiddles. I got to talk to lots of people. It was a lovely way to spend my birthday, even though I missed my family and Seattle friends.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Winter Break Part V
It takes two buses to get to Trysil from Hamar. Fortunately, they're relatively short and inexpensive. I arrived on a bus full of ski tourists eager to get to their hotels, trying to jump off at every stop starting in the town before Trysil.
Else and her father met me at the bus station and we piled my luggage into the car. As usual, the Myhr home was full of friendly faces. In addition to the Else, her three siblings, her parents, and me, they were entertaining a visit from an aunt and uncle. While I was there the family received a constant stream of guests.
The Myhr family is extremely good at entertaining guests. Coffee and cookies are always around. Usually there is some kind of game played; we played lots of cards, Fantasi (think charades), a relative of Monopoly, and did I mention, lots of cards.
One evening we went on a road trip to Sømådalen to see a play. Sømådalen is about an hour and a half away from Trysil and is a very small place. From what I could tell, in the middle of the night, it consisted of an intersection with a community building and not much else. The play was put on by the theater club of local kids. They were presenting Trekkspillkrigen (the Accordion War), a rather bizarre story about bad meat and conflict between fiddlers and dance band music.
While in Trysil I made my first outing on skis in Norway. It's almost not worth mentioning, it was so short. We managed three laps around the small field by Else's house. In our defense, it was a delightfully beautiful day, but also a chilly -10C (14F).
We spent New Year's Eve enjoying each other's company in their cozy living room. At midnight we went outside to watch the fireworks the tourists were shooting off the mountain across the river. (It was really cold then -24C/-11F.) Once we were thoroughly frozen we came inside and started the new year with cheese and crackers and a movie.
I spent my New Year's Day on the bus back to Rauland. The moon was an amazing harvest moon that we chased all evening across Southern Norway. I arrived to an empty Studentheim, happy to be home and filled with good memories of my winter break.
Else and her father met me at the bus station and we piled my luggage into the car. As usual, the Myhr home was full of friendly faces. In addition to the Else, her three siblings, her parents, and me, they were entertaining a visit from an aunt and uncle. While I was there the family received a constant stream of guests.
The Myhr family is extremely good at entertaining guests. Coffee and cookies are always around. Usually there is some kind of game played; we played lots of cards, Fantasi (think charades), a relative of Monopoly, and did I mention, lots of cards.
One evening we went on a road trip to Sømådalen to see a play. Sømådalen is about an hour and a half away from Trysil and is a very small place. From what I could tell, in the middle of the night, it consisted of an intersection with a community building and not much else. The play was put on by the theater club of local kids. They were presenting Trekkspillkrigen (the Accordion War), a rather bizarre story about bad meat and conflict between fiddlers and dance band music.
While in Trysil I made my first outing on skis in Norway. It's almost not worth mentioning, it was so short. We managed three laps around the small field by Else's house. In our defense, it was a delightfully beautiful day, but also a chilly -10C (14F).
We spent New Year's Eve enjoying each other's company in their cozy living room. At midnight we went outside to watch the fireworks the tourists were shooting off the mountain across the river. (It was really cold then -24C/-11F.) Once we were thoroughly frozen we came inside and started the new year with cheese and crackers and a movie.
I spent my New Year's Day on the bus back to Rauland. The moon was an amazing harvest moon that we chased all evening across Southern Norway. I arrived to an empty Studentheim, happy to be home and filled with good memories of my winter break.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Winter Break Part II
I arrived in Oslo both hungry from not eating enough and queasy from being on the bus all day. Not a fun combination. The bus was a few minutes early, so Åsmund hadn't quite made it to the bus station yet. That gave me time to try to help a little old lady call her granddaughter (also named Ingrid) who was meeting her at the station. Åsmund and the granddaughter arrived at the same time and we all headed off to enjoy the holidays.
Well, Åsmund and I headed off in search of food. The restaurant he thought we could go to was closed; in the sense that a completely gutted storefront is a closed restaurant. We wound up eating cheeseburgers across the street from Bondeheimen. Marianne, Åsmund's girlfriend joined us just as her food arrived. Note, in Norway cheeseburgers come with corn and special sauce in addition to the cheese, burger, pickles, and lettuce; you really do need the knife and fork.
To make our Sunday evening in the city complete, we headed to the cinema to see Max Manus (see it when you get a chance). Then we headed back to their apartment and relaxed for a while. Åsmund hung up his laundry. Marianne wrapped his Christmas present. I lit Chanukah candles and played ukulele. In the morning, that is before noon, Åsmund and I got up and hit the road for Ottestad (just outside of Hamar).
We arrived to an empty house (only the dog, Tutta was home). We put our bags where they belonged and decided we needed to take a trip to town. Åsmund was after an almost last minute gift and we both figured it would be a good idea to stop at the liquor store before it closed for the week (this was a Monday!).
Well, Åsmund and I headed off in search of food. The restaurant he thought we could go to was closed; in the sense that a completely gutted storefront is a closed restaurant. We wound up eating cheeseburgers across the street from Bondeheimen. Marianne, Åsmund's girlfriend joined us just as her food arrived. Note, in Norway cheeseburgers come with corn and special sauce in addition to the cheese, burger, pickles, and lettuce; you really do need the knife and fork.
To make our Sunday evening in the city complete, we headed to the cinema to see Max Manus (see it when you get a chance). Then we headed back to their apartment and relaxed for a while. Åsmund hung up his laundry. Marianne wrapped his Christmas present. I lit Chanukah candles and played ukulele. In the morning, that is before noon, Åsmund and I got up and hit the road for Ottestad (just outside of Hamar).
We arrived to an empty house (only the dog, Tutta was home). We put our bags where they belonged and decided we needed to take a trip to town. Åsmund was after an almost last minute gift and we both figured it would be a good idea to stop at the liquor store before it closed for the week (this was a Monday!).
Monday, November 24, 2008
Mørketur
Well, to follow up on the last post (I think), I did not get the extra lessons after the audition. According to Ånon, this is primarily because he is too busy and pretty sure that I have enough to work on with what I'm getting now. This is probably true. It also means that I still have time to work on playing the banjo, torader, and spoons in addition to my more serious instruments. (The ukulele's haven't arrived yet!)
This weekend I celebrated another weekend without hours at the hotel by visiting the crew at Nesland. Nesland is about 2km from here and 4 folk music students live in a charming house there. Not having a car, I walked with my fiddles in my hand and a backpack full of warming beverages and homemade applesauce. Fortunately, Egil, who also lives in the student apartments, had a flashlight function on his phone or it would have been very dark on the way there!
We passed the time watching most of The Pirates of the Caribbean and playing fiddles. The time really flew once we broke out the fiddles! By the time we started leaving it was closing in on 2:30.
It was really cold on the way home. Too cold to talk. And I was really glad that mom had sent me long underwear and that the Nesland crew had lent me a hat and a flashlight. The stars are amazing here; the nights are clear and there isn't much light to interfere, especially when there's no moon. It feels like the Big Dipper is going to swing down and scoop up the school.
Of course, we didn't leave before we had some applesauce. Don't ask me why, I'm sure it's cultural, but Norwegians really want to put applesauce on bread. I guess it sort of makes sense; applesauce resembles jam and Norwegians put just about everything on bread. Still, I would much rather have it fresh and warm on ice cream or just by itself!
Sunday I cleaned my room. I suppose that's not really that exciting, but it is worth mentioning. It was starting to get a little deep in here.
The high-light of today was definitely the dinner I made! Chicken curry salad, as close to Mom's recipe as I could manage. I cooked the chicken with perhaps too much curry and a little bit of coriander, salt and pepper. While the chicken cooled, I chopped up a quarter of an onion, a ton of celery, red grapes, and almonds which I toasted with a little olive oil and salt. I mixed it all together with less mayonnaise than I would have used at home and ate it with rice. Yum!
This weekend I celebrated another weekend without hours at the hotel by visiting the crew at Nesland. Nesland is about 2km from here and 4 folk music students live in a charming house there. Not having a car, I walked with my fiddles in my hand and a backpack full of warming beverages and homemade applesauce. Fortunately, Egil, who also lives in the student apartments, had a flashlight function on his phone or it would have been very dark on the way there!
We passed the time watching most of The Pirates of the Caribbean and playing fiddles. The time really flew once we broke out the fiddles! By the time we started leaving it was closing in on 2:30.
It was really cold on the way home. Too cold to talk. And I was really glad that mom had sent me long underwear and that the Nesland crew had lent me a hat and a flashlight. The stars are amazing here; the nights are clear and there isn't much light to interfere, especially when there's no moon. It feels like the Big Dipper is going to swing down and scoop up the school.
Of course, we didn't leave before we had some applesauce. Don't ask me why, I'm sure it's cultural, but Norwegians really want to put applesauce on bread. I guess it sort of makes sense; applesauce resembles jam and Norwegians put just about everything on bread. Still, I would much rather have it fresh and warm on ice cream or just by itself!
Sunday I cleaned my room. I suppose that's not really that exciting, but it is worth mentioning. It was starting to get a little deep in here.
The high-light of today was definitely the dinner I made! Chicken curry salad, as close to Mom's recipe as I could manage. I cooked the chicken with perhaps too much curry and a little bit of coriander, salt and pepper. While the chicken cooled, I chopped up a quarter of an onion, a ton of celery, red grapes, and almonds which I toasted with a little olive oil and salt. I mixed it all together with less mayonnaise than I would have used at home and ate it with rice. Yum!
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Rauland weather report
Friday night I enjoyed dinner and conversation with my friend Anja and her roommates. It was snowing when I headed out to her house. It snowed while we ate dinner and talked about our teachers and classes. It snowed while we enjoyed ice cream over a lively discussion of religion and politics and future careers.
It was still snowing when I walked home that night. It was dark and beautiful, the snow making the whole world seem brighter in contrast. Best of all, it was quiet. Absolutely still. I took down the hood on my jacket and stopped walking just to enjoy the silence. It was cold, though, so I didn't stand around listening to nothing for long.
Saturday was a slushy miserable combination of snow and rain. It had its good moments though. I played with Iselin, then she helped me make applesauce. David came over and we played some more before making pizza. Then we watched a soccer match with Stine and Benjamin. It was nice to relax with my classmates.
On Sunday it rained and rained and rained. If I hadn't known any better, I would have thought I was at home. Of course at home, it wouldn't have turned into snow. Right about the time Marco and Mona picked me up for some singing and dinner (which turned into a few bottles of wine, good conversation, and me crashing in their extra bedroom) it started to snow again.
It seems to have snowed all night. We have roughly four inches of new snow and a real winter wonderland feeling. Of course, as the dentist said when I met him on my way out of work this morning, November is unstable, weather-wise. All we can do is hope that this snow stays. It's really no fun starting over with the ice every time it snows!
It was still snowing when I walked home that night. It was dark and beautiful, the snow making the whole world seem brighter in contrast. Best of all, it was quiet. Absolutely still. I took down the hood on my jacket and stopped walking just to enjoy the silence. It was cold, though, so I didn't stand around listening to nothing for long.
Saturday was a slushy miserable combination of snow and rain. It had its good moments though. I played with Iselin, then she helped me make applesauce. David came over and we played some more before making pizza. Then we watched a soccer match with Stine and Benjamin. It was nice to relax with my classmates.
On Sunday it rained and rained and rained. If I hadn't known any better, I would have thought I was at home. Of course at home, it wouldn't have turned into snow. Right about the time Marco and Mona picked me up for some singing and dinner (which turned into a few bottles of wine, good conversation, and me crashing in their extra bedroom) it started to snow again.
It seems to have snowed all night. We have roughly four inches of new snow and a real winter wonderland feeling. Of course, as the dentist said when I met him on my way out of work this morning, November is unstable, weather-wise. All we can do is hope that this snow stays. It's really no fun starting over with the ice every time it snows!
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
First Night
August 18, 2008
Birgit and I will be sharing a kitchen. We are the only ones who will be sharing our luxurious kitchen with an awesome view and a dishwasher. That's right, a dishwasher. Of course, I think we've already had half the school (at least most of the building) here as her guests, so I don't think we'll be wanting for a social life.
Birgit made dinner (thank goodness), sweet and sour chicken, and shared her wine. She went for a walk and I did the dishes and took a nap. When I woke up, there was a small crowd in her room. I think the total headcount was at one point eleven people. Possibly twelve. It was a nice way to start meeting people.
Birgit and I will be sharing a kitchen. We are the only ones who will be sharing our luxurious kitchen with an awesome view and a dishwasher. That's right, a dishwasher. Of course, I think we've already had half the school (at least most of the building) here as her guests, so I don't think we'll be wanting for a social life.
Birgit made dinner (thank goodness), sweet and sour chicken, and shared her wine. She went for a walk and I did the dishes and took a nap. When I woke up, there was a small crowd in her room. I think the total headcount was at one point eleven people. Possibly twelve. It was a nice way to start meeting people.
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Trysil IV
August 17, 2008
Today is my last day of vacation. I could have gotten up and gone to church to hear Else and her mother play, but I just didn't have the drive. I didn't get out of bed until close to eleven and was just finishing breakfast when Liv Marit and Oddmund came back. They weren't home for more than ten minutes before we took off to Solbekken, the local open air museum which is one of the oldest in Norway.
All of the buildings were open and there were demonstrations in almost all corners of the museum. Else was scheduled to play the whole day. Peder and I danced a couple of dances. Oddmund drove back to the house to get my fiddle so I could play some with Else, and returned with my fiddle and Geir. Else and I managed to find some tunes we both knew well enough to play for an audience of a couple hundred people who were not really listening, so we had a good time.
During the closing program, it was again the Myhr family who stole the show. Else played while Peder and Geir (the other brother) danced the ox dance and a halling. They did a great job. Especially if you consider that they were dancing on grass, barefoot, and the lady holding the hat had never done it before. Add to that, the hat they were offered was a ten pound cowboy hat and the stick curved upwards. It was basically impossible for them to have successfully kicked that hat off the stick.
While the closing gifts continued to be exchanged, I got to try some traditional Trysil food. Let me highlight rømmesoll - Norwegian style sour cream (rømme) with fresh curds and sugar. Delicious. Also, a local type of lefse that was pretty darn tasty with just butter (but, really, what isn't?).
Today is my last day of vacation. I could have gotten up and gone to church to hear Else and her mother play, but I just didn't have the drive. I didn't get out of bed until close to eleven and was just finishing breakfast when Liv Marit and Oddmund came back. They weren't home for more than ten minutes before we took off to Solbekken, the local open air museum which is one of the oldest in Norway.
All of the buildings were open and there were demonstrations in almost all corners of the museum. Else was scheduled to play the whole day. Peder and I danced a couple of dances. Oddmund drove back to the house to get my fiddle so I could play some with Else, and returned with my fiddle and Geir. Else and I managed to find some tunes we both knew well enough to play for an audience of a couple hundred people who were not really listening, so we had a good time.
During the closing program, it was again the Myhr family who stole the show. Else played while Peder and Geir (the other brother) danced the ox dance and a halling. They did a great job. Especially if you consider that they were dancing on grass, barefoot, and the lady holding the hat had never done it before. Add to that, the hat they were offered was a ten pound cowboy hat and the stick curved upwards. It was basically impossible for them to have successfully kicked that hat off the stick.
While the closing gifts continued to be exchanged, I got to try some traditional Trysil food. Let me highlight rømmesoll - Norwegian style sour cream (rømme) with fresh curds and sugar. Delicious. Also, a local type of lefse that was pretty darn tasty with just butter (but, really, what isn't?).
Trysil III
August 16, 2008
Today was a relaxing day (for me) in Trysil. After I finally was up and had breakfast, we didn't have to watch the Olympics for long before Liv Marit began cooking lapper (thick pancakes, like American ones). We ate them with combinations fresh strawberry jam, brown cheese, sour cream, and butter.
Then, Else and I took the row boat out on the river. After watching the Norwegian rower, Olaf Tufte, get the gold medal in men's single sculls we were inspired. We are not, however, Olympic rowers, so we just paddled around in the calm bay where the boat was kept. We took pictures, enjoyed the weather, and did some boat tricks.
After dinner out at the local Chinese restaurant, we found ourselves at the closing concert of the Trysilutvandererstemne (Trysil Emigrant Gathering). It wasn't really surprising that we were there, Else, Peder, Inga, and Martin (her brother, sister, and uncle) were part of the program. Else played for dancing. Inga and Martin (yes, that Martin Myhr) danced. Peder got the high honor of dressing as the bear that got chased, shot, and then danced around; he was excellent. Martin also recited two poems that were really quite moving. There were also performances from the men's choir, the children at the music school, and other musicians. It was a great show.
In addition to the great show, there were speeches by the mayor and the head of the visiting American delegation. The mayor spoke in English and Norwegian, with some interesting omissions or additions depending on how you look at it. Then it was the American's turn. He had several gifts and kept turning away from the microphone to present them to the Norwegian members of the committee. This prompted calls from the audience. I'm not sure how many times we heard "MICROPHONE!" from the audience in a nice clear Minnesota accent. I do know that if I'd heard it one more time, I would have started laughing out loud and that can be difficult to stop.
Today was a relaxing day (for me) in Trysil. After I finally was up and had breakfast, we didn't have to watch the Olympics for long before Liv Marit began cooking lapper (thick pancakes, like American ones). We ate them with combinations fresh strawberry jam, brown cheese, sour cream, and butter.
Then, Else and I took the row boat out on the river. After watching the Norwegian rower, Olaf Tufte, get the gold medal in men's single sculls we were inspired. We are not, however, Olympic rowers, so we just paddled around in the calm bay where the boat was kept. We took pictures, enjoyed the weather, and did some boat tricks.
After dinner out at the local Chinese restaurant, we found ourselves at the closing concert of the Trysilutvandererstemne (Trysil Emigrant Gathering). It wasn't really surprising that we were there, Else, Peder, Inga, and Martin (her brother, sister, and uncle) were part of the program. Else played for dancing. Inga and Martin (yes, that Martin Myhr) danced. Peder got the high honor of dressing as the bear that got chased, shot, and then danced around; he was excellent. Martin also recited two poems that were really quite moving. There were also performances from the men's choir, the children at the music school, and other musicians. It was a great show.
In addition to the great show, there were speeches by the mayor and the head of the visiting American delegation. The mayor spoke in English and Norwegian, with some interesting omissions or additions depending on how you look at it. Then it was the American's turn. He had several gifts and kept turning away from the microphone to present them to the Norwegian members of the committee. This prompted calls from the audience. I'm not sure how many times we heard "MICROPHONE!" from the audience in a nice clear Minnesota accent. I do know that if I'd heard it one more time, I would have started laughing out loud and that can be difficult to stop.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
Trysil II
August 15, 2008
When I arrived in Trysil Else's mother (Liv Marit) was waiting for me. Back at the house, Else asked if I wanted to come with her to Anne's house to watch a movie. Sure, why not? Off we went! We had a regular old girls' night. We watched Jane Austen's Emma, ate apple cake, and talked about boys and parents.
When we headed to Anne's house we walked up a steep path called kjærlighetsvei. At that time it was still light out. On the way back we used Else's muscle memory and my white shoes to guide us through the woods. Sadly, we didn't meet anyone going up or down the path.
When we got home we, and everyone else, were hungry. Else's brothers had prepared some bread and cheese that just needed to go in the oven; think crostini with a Norwegian twist. Everyone sat down at the kitchen table (seven of us total) and as soon as the cookie sheets were within reach, they were overcome by hungry hands. I had been warned to take what I wanted and eat if I was hungry. Any one who has eaten with a large family is familiar with the eat or go hungry atmosphere that can surround a table. I think everyone wound up with the same amount of food, but all I can say for sure is that I got enough to eat!
When I arrived in Trysil Else's mother (Liv Marit) was waiting for me. Back at the house, Else asked if I wanted to come with her to Anne's house to watch a movie. Sure, why not? Off we went! We had a regular old girls' night. We watched Jane Austen's Emma, ate apple cake, and talked about boys and parents.
When we headed to Anne's house we walked up a steep path called kjærlighetsvei. At that time it was still light out. On the way back we used Else's muscle memory and my white shoes to guide us through the woods. Sadly, we didn't meet anyone going up or down the path.
When we got home we, and everyone else, were hungry. Else's brothers had prepared some bread and cheese that just needed to go in the oven; think crostini with a Norwegian twist. Everyone sat down at the kitchen table (seven of us total) and as soon as the cookie sheets were within reach, they were overcome by hungry hands. I had been warned to take what I wanted and eat if I was hungry. Any one who has eaten with a large family is familiar with the eat or go hungry atmosphere that can surround a table. I think everyone wound up with the same amount of food, but all I can say for sure is that I got enough to eat!
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