How to Make Music by Breaking Ice.

I know I said that my next blog would be about my wife’s and my grim visa situation, but I rather write about something much more pleasant.

This day was a classic summer day – clear, sunny, crisp and cold, short but sweet.  When I woke this morning, everything was painted white.  Not snow, not the fluffy whiteness sitting on tree limbs and engulfing entire cars.  But ice, umfgillions of tiny crystals that had grown on every surface of everything over the coarse of the night.  I don’t know exactly why, probably a mix of the below freezing temperature and ocean marine layer, but it was beautiful outside.  It still is, even as I write this.  I have never seen everything cover in such whiteness like that before.  You know those fake white Christmas trees?  The ones that look nice but only because their so artificial they could never be real...?  Well, all day I enjoyed that same arctic frost, but it was everywhere and it was authentic.

I had to take advantage of it and go out on Arvid’s rowboat – the same one that I used all summer.  The water was super dark turquoise clear...more than it has been in years according to Arvid.  When out on the boat, I could see down probably 60 feet to the little white patches of sand.  From the dock I could see all the picky details; colored seaweed and dozens of starfish.  Starfish small enough to fit on a dime and starfish large enough to creep me out a little.  I know he’s a harmless starfish, but do you think he actually eat my head if it had the chance?  I mean, come one, he could easily completely wrap himself all the way around it?  Maybe that’s just my sci-fi mind.     

I didn’t know it was so hard to row through ice...and this ice wasn’t even that thick.  It’s not that your boat stops completely, but the ice is surprisingly strong enough to hold your oar underneath it.  And then, if you don’t have good gloves, it will slip right through your fingers and through the ice.  That was problem solving situations, but don’t worry Arvid, I got your oar back.  I reluctantly turned away from my adventure of shattering my way through the stubborn ice.  

Maybe you saw the video I posted on Facebook of rocking my boat to create ice breaking waves.  I was helplessly fascinated by it.  As each wave traversed the sea in formation further and further from the boat, they created an almost symphonized performance of cracking ice and slushing water.  A new sound for my ears.  Likening to the whaaa whaaa ringing sound of large pieces of sheet metal fluttering, along with all the crickets in the northern hemisphere performing their unique instruments.  The sound started at my boat and traveled out, spanning the frozen section of the sea until I could hear it no more.  But honestly, I probably looked like a doofus out in the middle of the sea by myself jumping up and down on the boat.   

I have so enjoyed the sea here at my in-laws place, but I realize that I haven’t posted many pictures of it while out on the boat.  So here are a few of the ones form today that I enjoyed.  

Winter 2012

         I had a great 300 word start to a previous blog entry.  I was going to talk all about what I think of Norway’s weather in November.  About how it’s supposedly the worst month for weather.  About “surt vær”, the type of sour weather that just gnaws at you.  About how it isn’t cold enough for the constant rain to turn to snow and how the dark gloominess grows longer by 6 minutes everyday.  About how the rain doesn’t come down on your head, but about how the accompanying sideways wind helps it up under your jacket and directly into your eyeballs.  I was going to talk about the rhyming Norwegian saying “De finnes ikke dårlig vær, bare dårlig klær!” and about how even my Norwegian teacher said that they use it to comfort themselves about how it’s not bad weather, just bad clothes.  I was going to talk about how I actually agree with the saying and don’t mind the weather.  The most common question I get is “what do you think about the weather?” which leads me to believe that many people expect me to dread the sour weather.  It really hasn’t bothered me.  I agree with the little Norwegian comfort saying, as long as you have clothes to keep you dry and warm, it’s like being in California...ok maybe not quite.

        Those were all things I was going to talk about for a late Autumn post, but I haven’t yet gotten a firm grasp on this blogging thing.  I enjoy to write and paint pictures in the mind’s  of my readers.  I also find it most important to archive my experience for my future self – he always appreciates being reminded of where he has walked.  

Anyways, that sour weather is gone and now the flippin’ cold is here.  I mean cold.  I mean so cold that I had to stop riding my bike one night and hold my sleeves to my burnt face.  That night I thought I was going to lose my a finger.  I thought I was going to get home and see my new blue stick finger ready to break at the slightest bump.  Well, I will never ride my bike in a Norwegian December again with out gloves or anything keep my head from direct contact of the icy air.  But once again, the cold isn’t cold if you have the proper clothing.  Wool is my feet’s best friend.  Thank you Papsen, Mamsen and Tante Torill for the wool socks!

I remember two stories of cold that I can relate to now.  The first is from Nebraska, I think, when my Aunt Val walked just to the mailbox and her bare ears nearly shattered.  The other is from Alaska when I complained to my Uncle Tony about how my single paned window was giving me a sore throat in the California winter nights.  He replied “I understand, you can do this and that to help, but the truth is, that it doesn’t get that cold here.”  I thought he was being insensitive, but now I can’t wait I go back home next year and laugh at any coldness that The Central Coast may think it has.  

I do like the cold though.  In the same way that I have liked pretty much all else that Norway has offered me.  Of course it requires more energy of you to layer up three extra times anytime you just want to go buy milk, but in all, it’s sweet.  I like the way the crispness kind of bits the inside of my nostrils as I take a deep breath and I like the way the cold air feels clean in my lungs.  I like how the sunsets, even though they occur at 4:30 pm, are long lasting in contrast to the fifteen minutes of fame back in California. I like the crunchy snow under my boots and I like purposely walking on it instead of the path when I have the choice.  I like the morning sparkling sidewalks, gleaming as if a million diamonds were spilt at my feet.  I like the fluffy whiteness in the parks when they have been laid with a fresh blanket.  I like that for the first time in my life I am wearing a scarf, and yes, I felt a little feminine the first time I put it on, but now I rarely leave without it.  I like seeing the children playing in the kindergartens, each with their own little winter onesie waddling around like bubbly penguins.  I like making a snowball to throw at my wife, then regretting it both because my hand is now painfully frozen and that I have vengeance awaiting me.  I find it clever when people walk around with extremely reflective snap on bands on their arms and legs.  I find it amusing after the freighting moment of a calm walk when I step on unseen ice and lose all orientation.  I have heard studded car tires before, but for the first time I rode a bike with the little metal chips between rubber and road.  I notice and appreciate so many little things being in a new land.  The list could go on and on...

Another funny story I want to remember is about not having oil for my bike.  I put together a pretty sweet smooth riding cruiser here in Oslo.  It’s white with thin 28” rims and flat handle bars.  It is literally perfect for what I need it for – taking the place of riding the buss in daily life.  I somehow found all the parts here and there, even an expensive $100 racing seat.  I guess the bike is something to write home about because it was free.  Usually free bikes are a pile of scrap metal.  But this one wasn’t, and wont be thanks to gifts from California (thank you Uncle Rick).  I have been riding if for 3 months now and have not been able to take proper care of it, due to not working and only spending money on the necessities.  At first just the handlebars were a little squeaky, then, as more rain and junk from the road sat on it, the chain began to squeak.  Now, every part on that machine creates it’s own unique little squawk.  A few nights ago, I was out riding on a Sunday night.  It was actually the quietest I had ever heard the streets of Oslo.  Nice silent bliss, then there came Mr Noisy on his clankity crackle bonk bike disrupting all ambiance.  It was a pretty funny moment I had to laugh at.

Well, now my wife and I are on the train back to Bergen to spend Christmas and the New Years with family.  We are excited to be going back, as it is always a relaxing joy to be at my in laws house.  I am so happy to be hear, more than I can enclose in words, but like always it’s bitter-sweet because I miss my family back home in Cali.  I love you guys :)  

My next blog will be about our visa situation.  As many of my readers know already, we were denied approval of the family immigration visa we applied for back in July.  It makes for one of the most frustrating times of our lives, but we are handling it well.  We are keeping our heads up and choosing to focus on our relationship and not the situations around us.  Whatever you focus on in life gets bigger and more dominant.  So, we choose to focus on the other person and serving them with all our hearts!