Little Pixy Boots: T'is the Season to be Plucking

Whoa, I apologise for being MIA for a while. It's been a busy few months for me and I've been flying back and forth Singapore, UK and Norway. Anyway, this post is about *play* so I decided to focus on the popular berry-picking season in summery Norway!

Berry berry, quite contrary

Late July til mid-August is the best time to pluck berries in Norway, although if you travel up north you find that the berry-plucking season extends to as late as September. Recently Viking Man and I had great fun going up a mountain to try our luck with blueberry plucking.

A lot of Norwegians take blueberry plucking very seriously. Others take it as a nice leisure activity with the reward of juicy berries with rich Vitamin C and antioxidants at the end of the day. Many also take it as a excuse to exercise (or å trene) in fresh outdoor air, give their legs a good stretch or go out with someone they fancy in a group date (this applies to many young adults).


Usually the best places to pick blueberries is higher ground on a mountain forest (fjellskog in Norwegian). Usually the best places are low mountain plateaus around 800 - 1200 metres above sea level, which provide nice gradual slopes which are very conducive for blueberries to grow. One new thing I learnt yesterday is that blueberries (blåbær) grow in the same kind of terrain with other berry types like tyttebær (mountain cranberries) and markjordbær (wild strawberries). One of my favourite native Norwegian flowers grows in abundance in this mountain terrain too, but I don't know its name. Would be good if someone lets me know :) I had it in my wedding bouquet.


To our disappointment, we were a little late for blueberry plucking - either that or we chose a mountain too popular for plucking. Most of the blueberries were gone and the sight of blue-stained leaves and no berries isn't pretty. A lot of Norwegians nowadays like Viking Man, prefer to use a berry plucking device ("berry picker") that allows one to pluck berries very quickly but berries come along with leaves, branches and crushed berries, which I dislike. Maybe I'm old-fashioned and picky, but I like to hand-pick my berries despite the slower pace and juice-stained fingers at the end of the day. The berries I get are cleaner and I derive more enjoyment from it. Using a "machine" reduces the tactile and visual enjoyment, I feel.

Anyway, while looking for a picture of the berry picker, I found a nice blog on berry picking in Sweden, where apparently not all the blueberries are plucked yet! Lucky her. I'm envious! There's a picture of the berry picking devise on her blog.

Since there were few blueberries for us to pick, we picked more of tyttebær (mountain cranberries) instead. They ripen about 3 weeks after blueberries so we came just as they are ripening. Some of them are not that red yet because we were picking on the east side of the mountain where the cranberry bushes get less sun.

A lot of the tyttebær were red on one side and white on the other. I find it amazing that the fruits require sunlight to ripen. Look at the pretty little cranberry flowers too! Sometimes when we chance upon a patch where pluckers have not been too, I get a little obsessed with getting as many as possible.

Tips on berry picking:

1. Wear dark old clothing - long track suits are suitable, as well as cotton yoga tights with a dark jacket. Wearing a dark t-shirt and bringing a long-sleeved jacket is good because it gets cold on top of the mountain.

2. Wear rubber boots or summer mountain climbing boots that support the ankles. Berries tend to stain a lot so it would help not to wear fashionable white canvas shoes! Most paths are rocky and muddy, so thicker soles and waterproof material are better protection for the feet.

3. Bring a backpack or sling bag. Keep your arms free from carrying anything. If you bring a bucket and berry pickers, then make sure they are brightly coloured so that you don't "lose" them while you wander off to better pastures.

4. Mosquito repellent - helps to keep the mozzies away!

5. Sunscreen lotion - helps prevent sunburn in case there is strong sunlight.

6. Sunglasses - they come in handy while driving to the mountain.

7. Many snacks! Bananas, "kvikklunsj" (chocolate bars for energy), apples, yogurt etc. In our case, we also brought yummy dried bean curd from Taiwan ("Naughty Spicy Dried Bean Curd").

Picture by Katie the hungry traveler http://katie-thehungrytraveler.blogspot.com/

8. Plastic bags! Clean plastic bags are useful when you are picking berries - sling them over your lower arm or wrist while putting them into the bag (if you are hand-picking), then transfer the berries to the bucket. It's much easier than carrying the bucket around. Plastic bags are also useful as trash bags, because where are you going to discard all those banana skins and plastic wraps? Not on the Norwegian mountains of course. Actually, I must confess that Viking Man did discard banana skins in a hidden corner of a blueberry bush, claiming that nature will take its course to decompose it. He was careful not to fling it anywhere in sight though. I didn't prepare any plastic bags beforehand, so I had to use my tissue packet to stuff all our trash in it.

But as a tool, plastic bags are useful, according to my two meagre years of cherry plucking experience!

9. Gloves - optional. I personally don't care if my fingers get (blood)stained or not, but blueberries can leave quite a purplish stain on your hands. This year I brought a pair, but found them to be more of a hindrance than help. I didn't use them and they kept dropping out of my jacket pockets. I wouldn't bring them the next time.

10. Waist pouch - optional. Bring this if you didn't bring a backpack! But if you are bringing a bucket, make sure that it is not so cumbersome that you cannot climb a mountain with it.

11. A small book on mushroom picking. If you are lucky, you might find that the mushroom season is starting just when the berries ripen! We saw a few mushrooms but didn't dare to pick them in case they were poisonous.

Enough chattering... time for photos :)

Kolsås (or Kolsaas) was the mountain we climbed and I forgot to take a photo of it, so this is from the internet. It is in the municipality of Akershus, west side of the Oslo fjord, near the city of Sandvika. It's a place where the wealthier would live, and has a few farms around the mountain. Along the way up, we saw many signs that explain the geological history of the mountain and rocks. Apparently there is a rare type of basalt lava only found in Antarctica and Iceland on top of this mountain, with a rather unique white speckled appearance after it is cooled. Wish my geography teacher Mr. L.A. Gomez was here! He would explain everything to me much better.

Signs were in Norwegian, though.

The path crossing the farm that we took to get to the mountain.

We were rewarded with a beautiful view of the Oslo fjord and lowlands after 1 hour of climbing.

We only managed to pluck this much because we began our journey in mid-afternoon and the sun was going down after 4 hours. To ensure an enjoyable trip, try getting up early and traveling in the morning for the picking. Trust me, once you start, you won't stop! There's something about berries; maybe it's greed or some other primeval instinct that makes one want to gather all the berries the eye can see.

Two of our small blueberry pickings. The leaves are stained by blueberry juice.

The progression of the tyttebær - from flower to ripe berries. I've added Norwegian coins for scale - 50 øre, 1 krone, 5 krone, and 10 krone. The 20-krone coin is missing because I didn't have one at the time of photo-taking. 1 krone = 100 øre = SGD 0.22. The 50 øre is like 5 Singapore cents for us.


Even though mountain climbing was hard work, the satisfaction of snacking with a view is rewarding. Make sure that if you are intending to pick the whole day, bring along a matpakke (lunch box) too, so that you can enjoy your sandwich while sitting on the cliff.

I feel so good! One can see the slalom (snowskiing) slope in front of me.

Have fun,
pixy

Little Pixy Boots on Shop: Mother's Day

Today is Mother's Day in Singapore! I almost feel ashamed that I almost never shopped anything for my mum this day, except bring her to a restaurant or make a homemade card for her. This year, I cooked a breakfast of mushroom-cheese omelette for her with a side of toast, salad sprouts and cherry tomatoes.

For some, red carnations means Mother's day

As you can clearly see, I have a hidden agenda to convert my meat-devoted mum to a healthy vegetarian diet. I apologise that I'm not a food blogger so I didn't take a picture of the omelette I made... but I think my parents appreciate that I can cook and don't do an indecent job of it :p

One thing I want to examine within myself today is whether one truly needs to shop for a gift in order to be "sincere" in congratulating or showing love to loved ones. I have always been feeling slightly guilty that ever since young, I've felt that the one (and sometimes only) thing I could do when it comes to friends' or family's birthdays, was to make home-made cards or presents. That's because over the years, my income has been unstable due to freelancing, and when I was younger, I was ingrained with a thrifty mentality because my pocket-money was quite small.

My friends and family have all expressed much gratitude over the years about the beautiful home-made cards I've made, even though a lot of them are made from recycled material. I told them it's because I can't afford to buy expensive presents, so the only way I can show love and well-wishes, is to give up my time to make cards and express how I feel.

And since this is Mother's Day, maybe I can show you what I made for my Mum's birthday last year (the ones made in my childhood are slightly too kiddish).

A hug for my mum

I was in Norway then so I think my mum was really touched to have received this card from me. Actually looking at this, I think I still draw in a rather kiddish manner, albeit a more skillful way. I don't make apologies for it - I just like this style.

When I was in England with my favourite friend, Hobbit, I adopted his mum to be my mum because she is so generous at heart and such a well-bred lady in true British upper-class manner. So I drew her a really simple card for her birthday:

The Mother Figure

Even though I'm not a little girl, and neither is she a mermaid (check out the legs), I thought that us walking hand in hand towards a sunset was nice.

There were other times when I feel so much appreciation for my team members at volunteer work or friends that I make a range of cards. I like to think they prefer cards to chocolates. Just a highlight:

Holiday in Norway

This card is called "Holiday in Norway", because I was having a holiday in Norway then. Duh. Very creative, pixy. Drew a bit of the grass and the sky around :)

But the card I was most proud of, but least appreciated (or so I heard), is this one:

"Dream"

I had spent a lot of effort on this card, cutting up bits and bobs from my old photographs, digging up leaves I collected from my travels, buying feathers and embellishments and making sure the paper is shaded to a nice aged maroon colour. I had to pass to the intended receiver via the family secretary. Guess what happened when I had the chance to ask him afterwards if he has seen it?

He gave me a puzzled look and said he has had a pile of cards and presents from well-wishers and he hasn't opened them all, so apparently his housekeeper must have cleared them up for him - which means he has probably not and never will, see this card.

Ah well.... the heartache of giving and not having the gift received.

I do wonder how people can in their ignorance, treat other's love and well-wishes lightly. Perhaps they are just not very appreciative.

Sometimes I wonder if the act of giving has become commercialised and "stereotyped" by the media and society around us. For example, is it a life-and-death matter for a female to receive a diamond ring for her engagement or wedding (I would like a carat, thank you)?

I for one, haven't received any diamond ring from my husband just yet. What I'm wearing now is a rather inexpensive ring, but I know very well without the diamonds that prevailing culture demands, that he loves me very very much. A cold stone of the hardest substance on earth, isn't going to represent the depth of his heart.

To me, every trial we go through, every kiss, every hug, and every ounce of respect and equality he gives me, is a diamond in itself. Because I know, that in so many societies and cultures in the world, women don't get the respect that they deserve, nor do they get equality, including Singapore.

the ring that is not made of the hardest substance in the world

So yes, I don't have a diamond on my finger, but I think I am the richest woman in the world.

I've come to realise that in the act of giving, whether it be a home-made card or a diamond ring, the most important factor is that the gratitude/love expressed was received.

So remember, you don't need an expensive present to show your appreciation for your mum. Give your mummy a nice big hug today (and tell her you love her)!

Hugs are immediately appreciated, methinks :)

Happy Mother's Day!

xoxo

pixy

P.S. I'm back in Singapore (just in time to participate in the exciting elections 2011!) and will be going home in a week...my Norwegian home with spring flowers! Oooooo... I do get a little frustrated sometimes when I've been in Norway 3 times for spring and missed the cherry blossoms in my garden there. I am praying that the flowers would wait for me to come back!

Little Pixy Boots on Eat: Norwegian Office Lunches

Ever since I've worked in a "normal" office with normal office hours in Norway, I've noticed some things are different from Singapore. For example, lunch hour in Norway is not exactly an hour - it's half an hour. That's because Norwegians prefer to finish the day early and fast so that they can get home early, relax or enjoy the summer sunshine before it's gone for the day. Full-time work in Norway is a strange 37.5 hours, unlike most countries where it's 40 hours per week. So it turns out, a lot of Norwegians begin their day early and have their dinner at home at 4 pm or 5 pm, something almost unheard of in Singapore, and certainly not in Spain, where most working people get home at 8pm or 9pm.

Time for lunch is "normal" enough at 12pm. Lunch is called "lunsj" in Norwegian, with the same pronunciation. Which incidentally brings me to the strange fact that Norwegians call their dinner "middag" which means "midday" and "ettermiddag" for afternoon, so in Norway "ettermiddag" comes before "middag". Strange, huh? I haven't figured that one out yet.

Unlike Singapore, where food is cheap (yes, I know Singaporeans complain all the time that food prices always go up, but wait till you see the prices on food menus here, my friends!), Norway is horrendously expensive to eat out everyday. So what companies offer as a benefit or part of the package deal for the employee, is a canteen with subsidised or free food, or office lunches in the pantries of smaller companies. Of course, employees still contribute a small sum of money per week to office lunches, but as I was earning puny money as an intern, I get to eat for free.

Office lunches in Norwegian offices can be a rather monotonous affair, but they do try to spice it up every Wednesday and/or Friday. Norwegian lunches are usually simple and not served hot. Most offices I've been to for lunch, serves bread with a variety of spreads, "pålegg" (which means something to have on top), and fruit. Juices, milk, tea and coffee accompany the food, as most (western?) Norwegian people like to have coffee or tea after their meals.

A typical Norwegian lunch with brown cheese

My office serves the usual but there was a brief period of time when yours truly added spice in their lives. We were in a temporary office for 3 months where there was a stove and an oven, and we could work wonders - pizza, thai phad thai noodles, pasta salad, risotto, scrambled eggs - you name it, we make it. I say "we" because when I first came, there was another female intern in the office from Finland who is preppy, funny and has a British accent. She was the one who urged me to cook outside the lunch box, within a time limit of 30 minutes. That was when I saw the benefits of frozen broccoli, fast-to-cook pasta and rice, and ready-to-eat chicken salad.

I've come to realize that frozen vegetables are usually pre-cooked half-way and all you need to do is to dump boiling hot water into a bowl, throw them in and voila! Cooked broccoli in 5 minutes! Very useful when you have tomatoes, onions, cucumbers, paprika to cut up otherwise, while watching the pasta boil in another 5 minutes. My Finnish cooking-comrade (FCC for short) used to almost exclusively cook most lunches, even though according to our company's rules - there is a "chef roster" that rotates among the colleagues per week. I think she just likes to take care of food for everyone and somehow all the could-be chefs got lazy and relied on her.

Maybe the men are just waiting for a woman to serve them! hah.

I don't know why but after I started my first try at cooking thai curry noodles for lunch, I seemed to get special requests every time lunch comes around. Usually they are quite subtle... they start by discussing something special that they would like to have at around 10am. Then they ask very nicely, "Har du lyst til å lager mat?" (Have you lust to make food?)

Usually because I love cooking and feeding people, I wouldn't say no. But I do remember one day being so tired that I said very succinctly, "Jeg har ikke lyst til å lager mat". I remember how disappointed the girls looked though. I guess sometimes a girl's going to have to take care of herself first before others!

My challenge during such "Asian" lunches is how to shorten the preparation time and cooking time to just 30 minutes. With lots of stress and sweat, of course. It helped that my FCC is a superwoman when it comes to speed of chopping, slicing and peeling, because she turned out to be my sous chef on more than one occasion. I loved frying the garlic and onions while preparing the meal, but at the same time, I had to be conscious to not be too near the food and air out the kitchen while cooking. That's not easy because when I opened the window during winter, -15 degrees celsius air swooped into the kitchen.

The reason I had to be conscious about how I smell is because the first few times I cooked, I remember going to my Norwegian language class after work and feeling apologetic to my neighbouring classmates that I stink/smell like fried garlic.

I really had no desire being remembered as the "garlic girl".

So anyway, my green and red thai curry noodles was a big hit. So were my stir-fried tofu with grill spices and spring onions. A few times I recall getting compliments on my cheese, mushroom and onion omelette too. There were a few times when I was the sous chef and helped my FCC with her famous pesto pasta with sun-dried tomatoes, feta cheese, olives and cherry tomatoes. That was really good because it lasts for two days in the fridge.

Thai red curry

The last time I remember cooking an Asian lunch for my colleagues is an adventurous phad thai noodle. It's challenging because I've never cooked it before, and I have to do it within 30 minutes. My kitchen was also appliance-challenged, because all we had are two pots - on a magnetic induction cooktop. With an induction cooktop, I have difficulty lifting my pot and flipping my noodles, omelette etc up like a normal Chinese chef does, because induction works by contact - no contact, no heat. It didn't help that we didn't have a saucepan and proper frying ladle too, so I was working with limited tools.

But at the end of the lunch, somehow even my most amateurish attempt was praised. I think Norwegians are just much more appreciative towards a sincere effort.

Those were the days, my friend - I thought they would never end. But they did. I have just left this job as my contract ended and before that, I was preparing "normal lunches" again because we moved to an office with no stove or oven. So I tried to be creative - buy the meats that my colleagues liked to eat, broccoli salad (just additional hot water, pine nuts, raisins needed), avocado as a "pålegg", different cheeses, fruits, lemons, smoked salmon etc. Somehow I think I had gained a reputation of making good lunches, which is a nice reputation to have.... just because I like to feed people well. I remember my colleagues tried to name who is a "feeder" and who's an "eater" in our company, and I was a feeder like my Finnish cooking-comrade!

I'm going to miss those guys, but probably not the lunches, because it gets monotonous for a vegetarian like me. It's hard to get vegetarian "pålegg" in normal supermarkets so I had to stick to vegetables and cheese all the time. Most pålegg for Norwegians mean boiled egg, liver pate, ham, kaviar, some canned fish, cheese and chocolate spreads, especially Nugatti. I don't like the chocolate spreads and seldom take egg, so I get limited options.

Nugatti Air - a airy favourite for the boys

Well, that's that. I'm going back to Singapore for two weeks this coming Saturday, so I'm looking forward to a gastronomical party! Rojak, laksa, rice dumplings (all vegetarian of course), here I come!

:P' ' '

pixy

Pictures from the internet.

Little Pixy Boots on Love: The Shovel's in the Ground!

Now that yours truly's Norwegian language standard has risen above the kindergarten level, I've started reading more and more newspapers and local magazines that I can get my hands on - from the leftover newspapers in the trains to local municipality magazines - I'm always hungry for more brain-food.

It is common to have a hut for kids (barnehytte)
built for the kindergartens in Norway. This one is the
kids' play-hut at Fredly kindergarten near Trondheim.

The most interesting observation to a city girl like me is the love that Norwegians have for nature, so much so that they use many farming terms and natural phenomenon to describe their daily life. Every time I discover a new expression, I chuckle and it brings a warm feeling to my heart that my adopted country has such down-to-earth closeness to their environment.

For example, I was flipping through my local municipal magazine when I came across this expression that puzzled me : "Spaden er i jorda!" I was thinking, ok, so the shovel's in the earth/ground.....so....?

Spaden er i jorda

I turned to my ready-made organic translator, a.k.a. Viking Man, next to me and asked him the significance of this term. Apparently this term expresses something new is on its way, a new beginning, a new project starting, which in this case, a multi-purpose hall is going to be constructed right below the new Vestby school. The hall will encompass "international goals" and there will be sports for everyone. What a wonderful open attitude towards incorporating foreigners in their midst!

Another place I came across the same expression "to stick a shovel in the ground", was news on the expansion of the Union Hotel - Swiss-style hotel in western Norway - which triggered one of last year's most inflamed architecture debates. The owners were ready to "stick the shovel in the ground" when they were informed by the National Heritage Board to build their planned expansion in the Swiss style - and not in a "modern way".

The Swiss-style Union Hotel Øye on the Hjørundfjord,
a favourite haunt of European royalty since 1891

Just so you know, Norwegians descended from a conservative farming background and they hold on to their traditions very fiercely, especially when it comes to architecture. Yet in the midst of preserving history, Norwegians also maintain a forward-looking stand on human rights for all. Most Norwegians remain positive to the incoming "aliens" into their midst, and embrace a socialist equal attitude towards them, although I hear that some politicians still remain xenophobic to the number of asylum-seekers and immigrants entering their country.


When I turned over a few more pages, I came across another article about the massive success of the Bauhaus megastore, something like IKEA in Tampines, Singapore but sells more of worktools, lights, bathroom, floor, wall tiles, garden equipment, plants and even inflatable water rafts. The caption under one photo went "Ikke høysesong for hage akkurat nå, men snøfresene går unna så det suser" (It's not high season for the garden now, but snow-blowers go as fast as it whistles).

Whistles?

Apparently it's a reference to how the wind "whistles" or "whizzes" when it blows fast by your ears. In this case, the snow-blowers "whistles" out of the megastore like the wind blowing a piece of tissue paper - quickly out of sight and out of mind. In America, I believe a similar expression is "selling like hot cakes".

In case you are wondering what a snow-blower looks like, here it is!

Like the grass-blower you use after mowing the grass, in Norway, they have snow-blowers so that one doesn't have to shovel after every snowfall.

The act of "blowing" by the wind is also used sometimes to mean a whiff of fresh air into something old and traditional. On the Moss Avis (avis = newspaper), I came across a headline which says:

Blåser nytt liv i strikkekunsten

(It "blows" new life into the art of knitting). The article features how ladies - grandmas amongst others - are teaching the art of knitting to fourth-graders or 9 year-olds. Click on the headline to see pictures of Norwegian schoolboys knitting and the full article.

A funny expression that relates to some Norwegian's love for fishing is slapp i fisken ("relaxed in fish", literally). It refers not to fish, but fat on a flabby person whose "rolls" of fat round their middle are probably as flabby and loose like a fish that is dead. Nice.

Some Norwegian expressions (also known as uttrykk) are similar to English ones, like se hvilken vei vinden blåser (see which way the wind blows) or se hvor landet ligger (lit. "see how the land lies", or "see how the cookie crumbles") which is means to wait and see how the course of future would turn out. They are a throwback to the times when a farmer needs to gauge the success of his crops by the weather changes and whether the land is suitable for cultivation.

Another interesting expression relating to sound and nature is the Norwegian equivalent of "you get what you asked for" - hva man roper i skogen, får man svar (What one call for in the forest, will be what they get a response (echo) of). Doesn't that bring to mind a very lonely vast forest where the only voice is your own? It sure gives a picture of the vast land that Norway has in comparison to its population (similar or slightly less than Singapore).


Their love for the sea and sailing is never far from their thoughts. Seile sin egen sjø translates to sailing in one's own lake, which means to be left to one's own devices. Which brings to mind that the Norwegian fish industry and local economy has recently been splashed with cold water by the country with the world's largest population...

Recently on Aftenposten, Norway's most widely circulated newspaper, the main headline screamed "Kina tar hevn" (China takes revenge). The blurb beneath reads, "Næringslivet merker en kinesisk isfront i kjølvannet av fredspristildelingen og ber om krisemøte med statsministeren" (The economy marks a Chinese ice-front in the wake of the Peace Prize allocation and requests for a crisis meeting with the Prime Minister).

A second cold war from a furious republic?

The list of expressions relating to the ice, wind, earth and water are endless. But what about animals? Here's some:

• ikke skue hunden på hårene (don't judge the dog by its hair)
  

English equivalent: don't judge a book by its cover

• ikke selge skinnet før bjørnen er skutt (don't sell the (bear)skin before the bear is shaken) English equivalent: don't count your chickens before they are hatched

Apparently this one harks back to the sport of hunting (which is still carried out by Norwegians today) where the bear might be shot but still alive, and the hunter might be trying to sell its fur and skin before it's dead. I think there must have been one or two such bears that jumped up and ran away before it could be skinned, hah!

• kry som en hane (be as full as a rooster) English equivalent: proud as a peacock

• kjøpe katta i sekken (to buy a cat in a bag) English: to buy a pig in the poke

Interestingly, this quote has similar expressions in many European countries, which originated in the Late Middle Ages, where tricksters would sell cats, rather than pork meat, in a bag as meat was scarce then. A more commonly used English idiom is "not to let the cat out of the bag", which refers to the same scheme because if the cat was out of the bag, the secret is out in the open.

I hope I have given a sense of how Norwegians' love for nature has infused their daily lives. Right now, many Norwegians are gearing up to cheer for their favourite skier and ski-jumper in the winter World Championship (VM - verdensmesterskap), including my boss who catches up on sports news on internet-tv during lunch breaks!

In the meantime, stay warm and we'll see how the wind blows the next time!

pixy

Little Pixy Boots on Play: The Vikings have come out to Play...

Skiing, anyone?

There is a common saying that Norwegians are born with skis on their feet. A lot of Norwegians are very sporty and have sports that suit all seasons from rollerblading to ski-jumping. To them, any snow sport involving speed would be their favourite. For the less sports-minded, their idea of play would be to barbecue (grill in Norwegian), drink and hang out in cafes.

Grilling potatoes by the typical Norwegian beach

Talking about drinking made me remember a recent event in my life. Just earlier in the last Friday of January, my boss held a julebord (literally translated to "Christmas table"). It was my very first julebord and my expectations were high for it. My boss sure didn't let me down :)

What is a julebord? A julebord is a dinner thrown by the company (or the boss, in my case, because we are a small firm) for the employees to celebrate the season of Christmas. Usually a julebord is held before Christmas in November or December, but some companies choose to hold it in January to avoid the crowded restaurants filled by other companies having their julebord at the the same time. Usually the boss (company) pays for pre-dinner drinks, the dinner itself with drinks and all employees just sit around the table to joke and get to know each other better.

However my boss this year has a nice surprise for us. He is a romantic, I think, who likes to drop ambiguous clues and hints in the company loggboka (logbook) and emails about the event and location, while keeping the rest of us guessing.

On the big day itself, he posted a picture of where we are supposed to meet for the julebord:

All 4 of us guessed that the meeting place was Ice Bar of Oslo because a polar bear is called "is bjørn" in Norwegian, which means "ice bear", which also sounded very much like "ice bar". As for the palace (slott in Norwegian, for you language junkies out there), we just thought that the photo hinted that it was near the royal palace or Slottsparken, which is the palace gardens where the Ice Bar is close to.

So at 6 pm, all of us went down to Ice Bar, only to find it empty, except for two bartenders.

Another surprise? we thought.

Yes, the surprise was...
we got the location wrong!

The meeting place was "Bear Palace", a pub in Aker Brygge I've never heard of, but that wasn't unusual given that my husband and I don't drink much. But I must quantify by saying that from my observation of the parties I have been to here, Norwegians have been tanking up their booze during their leisure time. They first have pre-dinner drinks, dinner wine, then go to the pub for more to hit more beer bottles. I'm amazed at the amount of money the bars and restaurants earn from alcohol itself in Norway as alcoholic drinks are not cheap in Norway.

So after the guys finished their beer at Ice Bar, we trooped down to Bear Palace and found our boss standing in the -6 degree Celsius outdoors for what must have been 15-20 minutes. Then he presented us with another surprise - tickets to a stand-up comedy show next door called "Drit i å danse" (literally "(I don't give a) shit about dancing" ) by a Norwegian celebrity Marit Voldsæter. We also earned two more beers each for our trouble, of which I chose non-alcoholic versions.

The show was such a laugh - even though I don't understand half of it. Voldsæter and her band of boys were hilarious and animated, playing many roles from Taliban terrorists to a drug addicts band to giraffes.

Programme and ticket to my first Norwegian stand-up comedy.
It doesn't come cheap - NOK 420 (USD72) per ticket

One part I found particularly funny was their portrayal of Norwegians watching a cross-country skiing race. One guy decked in Norwegian colours and winter gear came in abruptly while Voldsæter was talking to us. He sat down on the stairs with his thermos and backpack slash stool and waited. Then one after another, two clumsy Norwegian skiers actually skied onto stage, which prompted him to stand up and cheer. After that he packed up and she asked him: That's all? That's all, he said and left. So typically Norwegian to be deeply passionate about a sport but stoic in expressing himself, I thought.

The best part is: the show was 99.95% in the Bergen Norwegian dialect, with a smattering of English and gibberish of foreign languages. The Bergen dialect was hard enough for Oslo-lites to understand, and much less understandable for me. Fortunately, action speaks louder than words and I understood enough body language and words for me to catch the gist of most acts, especially the last one. The closing act was a hilarious, un-sexy portrayal of a sexy pole-dance by Voldsæter in a Playboy outfit.

Afterwards, we had a fantastic 5-course julebord at the famous Lofoten restaurant, which is famous for her fish dishes. The artichoke soup was fluffy with creamy bubbles and tasted heavenly. My colleagues who have attended cabin trips and Christmas dinners for the past five year, recounted some humourous drunken incidents of Tom whipping girls with his belt while dancing and flashing himself; the other becoming Exhibit A on a Harry-Safari (names changed to protect privacy) because he rushed out to the bushes outside a cabin in the middle of the night to throw up, and ended up sleeping beneath some rocks on the beach.

Other than partying, Norwegian life is filled with practical tasks that take up a lot of their leisure time. For one, Norwegians are garden-proud people who love digging into the soil, getting their hands dirty and trimming their trees. I've been party to a few of that, having trimmed pine trees, mowed grass and plucked cherries and redcurrants in the summer. Shoveling the snow has become a crucial task in winter too. But one important task we had accomplished last autumn was the laying of cement and stones in preparation for our new recycling bin corner...

Get ready for the bogus serial-killer! Dangerous only to herself and unassuming metal poles.

The female 007 agent in unflattering "I'm-here-to-work-not-look-pretty" wear

Hard at work with a metal cutter

The eventual damage.

Such physical dirty work had never existed in my life in Singapore. Usually they were kept at a distance, separated by safety fences and nets, in a construction site where one could observe the sparks without goggles. But since coming to Norway, I've learnt the joy of getting down and dirty with digging, heavy lifting and changing car tyres. I like to think of myself as a tough independent woman learning to put on different masks and goggles for practical needs. I was quite proud of myself for sawing off that metal pole that was obstructing us from putting down the cement tiles for the new recycling corner.

Other than physical labour, there is of course the usual TV, movies and cafes to keep locals entertained. I found more time for my art too, during my quiet down-time. Unlike the noisy hustle and bustle of Singapore, Oslo and the seaside kampong ("village" in Malay) I'm staying in now has much silence to feed my creative imagination. Click on the link above ("my art") if you are curious about the latest illustration I've made in the Land of the Midnight Sun.

Until next time, take care!
xoxo
pixy

Little Pixy Boots on Shop: Shopping in Norway

A white Christmas in Norway

Pardon for the late post... I've been busy with Christmas, New Year's and my birthday today. As much as I want to spend the whole day lying in the arms of my loving Viking Man, I got up from my slumber to finish this post.

I wanted to first write about Christmas shopping, but ended up side-tracking to my knitting experience. But hey, the first thing you need to know about shopping in Norway is - don't expect the big shopping centres that you can find in Tokyo, Bangkok or Singapore. I'm not a big shopping fan, but even I miss the usual hustle and bustle of the busy shopping places like Takashimaya and Bugis Street in Singapore. It was nice just to do window shopping and enjoy the colourful sight of clothes and wares in Singapore.

Bugis Street as seen from the eyes of Tor Eigeland

Here in Norway, I feel that almost every shopping centre of the vicinity carry the same branches of H&M, Cubus and Dressman. Perhaps the closest resemblance to the modern shopping centres in Singapore is the Sandvika Storsenter. But as Norwegians say, it's on the other side (Western) side of the Oslo fjord and far away from where I live. The "western" side also implies that it belongs to the wealthier part of the society.

Sandvika Storsenter (which means Sandvika "big centre")

Now living on the eastern side of the Oslo fjord doesn't mean I'm poor, but since I'm trying to be thrifty in the most expensive city in Europe (and some say the world), I got more into DIY. This, of course, makes Christmas gift-shopping a creative endeavour. Norwegians actually celebrate Christmas on Christmas Eve, with gift-opening on Christmas eve evening, which almost sounds like a heresy to Americans and British worldwide.

Now, having grown up in a traditional Chinese family with no Christian tradition whatsoever, I was clueless how Christmas gift-giving would be. In Singapore, Christmas was a light celebration with friends because two of my friends' birthdays fell on Christmas Day and two days after. We had always exchanged gifts that cost no more than SGD 10, just for fun. Therefore the gifts I brought to Viking Man's family was a grand total of *two* relatively cheap gifts from UK.

Imagine my embarrassment when I found out that the unstated expectation was to fill up the space under the Christmas tree with presents, even if they are just chocolates, sweets or marzipan wrapped up as gifts. I presented my two gifts happily, only to find out that I was receiving many more presents in return. The total sum of my presents must have exceeded the amount for the family.

The mountain of gifts below the tree...

So in 2010, determined not to lose out (yes, the typical Singaporean "kiasu" scared-to-lose spirit still lies active in me), I prepared one month in advance to give my hubby all that he needs and more. I decided to challenge myself with a new hobby - knitting! Yes, Norway is a country where knitted clothes are very practical for -20 degree Celsius winter. I thought Viking Man would be impressed when he receives my first ever knitted piece of love (which he was). On top of that I had to juggle work, Norwegian language classes, and long-distance commuting while hiding my knitting from him.

As a kid, I was never a big fan of knitting because it always seemed so technically complicated with its own Da-Vinci code of knots and bobs. Yet one evening, inspired by a knitting shop's Christmas window display, I popped in and asked in my broken Norwegian:

"Jeg lurer på om jeg kan knit a lue." (I wonder if I can knit a beanie hat)

The world of wool

Oops, I didn't know the words for "knit", which is "å strikke" in Norwegian. I gave up struggling with Norwegian after that and started asking in English for wool and "whatever" I would need. The shop lady knitted me the first round of the "lue", gave me some strange looking needles and told me to knit "two rights and two wrongs". I ran to class muttering "two rights and two wrongs" under my breath without understanding what they meant, but I knew they were important.

Later I found out from my knitting mentor that it meant two knit stitches and two purl stitches (which goes the opposite direction of the knit stitch). "Wrong" in Norwenglish (Norwegian English) means "opposite". And my knitting mentor is - *drumroll* - my bridesmaid, who is a gym instructor, of all people! Apparently in Norway, all teenagers were taught to knit in school, even the boys. My bridesmaid, J, happens to be passionate about knitting even though she's an extroverted fitness role model who used to be a professional dancer.

Yes, it's not only old grannies who are knitting experts in Norway.

My first attempt at knitting was full of mistakes and challenges, because J is a busy woman and I had to find other sources to rescue me from my "wrongs". Fortunately my colleague pointed me to a knitting shop "Strikkedilla" in Oslo City, one of the biggest shopping centres in the centre of Oslo. It became my refuge whenever I needed guidance, extra needles or simply an experienced eye and hand to correct my mistakes. I actually didn't even know which part of the beanie I was knitting and needed to ask a lot of questions before I could understand. It also took a lot of reassurance from the knitting experts that I (they) would be able to undo any mistake I made.

I regret not choosing a brighter colour for the lue,
but that gives me an excuse to knit another!
(P.S. pardon the untidy desk)

The week before Christmas, I managed to tough it out despite my doubts about my knitting ability and the lue's colour, size and shape. The lue was completed late at night after everyone had gone to bed. When Viking Man saw it on Christmas, he was touched by my knitting but later commented that the shape was rather like a sotong (squid).

Other than my knitting adventure, I was also on the lookout for presents to my other friends too. In Norway, it is common to have Christmas markets in late November and December but I kept missing out on those because they are held only on certain days in certain locations, which requires some research before December.

The Christmas market in Barcelona

However before this past Christmas I managed to attend a Christmas market by happy coincidence - I went to Barcelona and happened to walk into a Christmas market just outside La Sagrada Familie, a famous church designed by Gaudi. I was so glad that I purchased many smalls gifts there for my friends, including a Santa Claus on skis as a small present to my knitting mentor.

Little Christmas tree ornaments

Awww...aren't they sweet?

Hehe... looking at the photos from the "rojak" Christmas photo post makes me realise that I have indeed a more festive Christmas time in Norway. It's a classic place to experience Christmas - snow, wooden huts, pine forests, Santa Claus, real Christmas trees. Best of all, there is a fireplace with real log wood to burn and give warmth to the whole house. Ahhh..... what better life could one ask for?

Have a great New Year, everyone!

pixy

N.B. Some photos are taken from the internet.

Group Rojak Timeout: Holiday!

Week One of 2011 is almost over, and some of us girls on eat.shop.play.love are still recovering from our year-end hangover. Take a 3-minute virtual vacation with us to the many corners of our lovely earth: Tasmania, Oslo, Barcelona, Turks and Caicos, Vegas and New York.

Duck's Nuts Says:

I usually head overseas this time of the year to visit my family in Singapore and in other countries, but I decided to stay and enjoy the Australian summer this time round. I still find it odd to celebrate a sunny Christmas, but a week-long jaunt to Tasmania to meet a friend satisfied my longing for some time away from Sydney. We visited three national parks at Maria Island, Ben Lomond and Mt Williams, and did some hiking and camping.

Here's a rainbow over Maria Island, which is off the coast of south-east Tasmania. It used to be where some convicts from Great Britain were held, before becoming a site for cement production. It's now a national park.

The painted cliffs at Maria Island, formed through the percolation of ground water through the sandstone.

The water was so still you could see the sky reflected on it. Seeing this made me feel like I was in a painting.

On the other side of Ben Lomond, we walked down a road called Jacob's Ladder, which is very steep.

No holiday in Tasmania is complete without a glimpse of the local wildlife. I think this one is of a kangaroo and her joey at the Bay of Fires. The wild kangaroos and wallabies stare at you straight in the face for the longest time before hopping off when you near them.

Sights like that make me wish I grew up on a farm, with lots of vast open space, rather than a HDB flat!

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Little Pixy Boots had a lovely Norwegian holiday, sprinkled with a little Spanish excitement in Barcelona.

Dear Santa, I just wanted to say, "Merry Christmas to Chew."

I don't usually have bacon for breakfast, but I couldn't resist.

Jultomten (the Christmas elf) caught taking a break.

"Honey, that's not exactly hiding the presents from the kids."

Enough sugar to power a day of sightseeing in Gaudi's city.

"I've never said that attaining enlightenment was easy."

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Cirrus Cloud takes not one, but two, vacations to end the year with a bang! First up was fabulous Turks and Caicos. Next, a New Year countdown in Sin City -- Las Vegas.

Glorious.

Here's a view from my room in Turks and Caicos, when I open my eyes in the morning...

... When I turn to my right whilst in bed, this is what I see.

Watching the sunset, sipping a cocktail. Life is good.

View from our room in the Wynn in Las Vegas, NV.

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Una Ragazza enjoys Santa's Christmas gift of a snowy blanket that brings joy and havoc (depending on who you ask) to the New York Metropolitan area. Nothing like 30 degree F weather to make you look forward to jumping on a 24-hour plane ride home to the equator!

Overnight, the a/c gets a white cap that is a foot-and-a-half tall.

Kids of all ages and sizes rush to the once-grassy slopes of River Side Park with their sleds. Wheee!

White and serene. A zen Manhattan that we rarely see.

On the 10th day of Christmas... the garbage has still not been cleared!

... two broken washing machines, and a beer bottle stuck in a Christmas tree.

Making s'mores in my fireplace. Delish!

Doing research for our upcoming Singapore vacation in Cafe Lalo, while waiting for Meg Ryan to show up for a cheesecake and an espresso.

From all of us here at eat.shop.play.love -- have a fabulous 2011!

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