Cannon Falls Beacon

A newspaper article, to my surprise, has been published in the CF Beacon about my blog entitled "Lefse Søndag." In this article, the author provides a quote: "Nobody eats lutifisk in Norway any more." I, despite theories developed from the way this is written, most definitely did not say this. This makes me wonder where this information came from. It also makes me wonder, if no one eats lutifisk in Norway any more, then what was it that I and 4.5 million other people ate for dinner last night?

MOVED IN

I was ALWAYS freezing because my family insisted I keep the temp at 15 at night and 17 during the day. But I always turned it up to 20 to prevent hypothermia.


I moved in with my new family last Tuesday, and I LOVE it here. I'm a lot more comfortable here than i was at my last house. My coffee cup is always full, and there's always music playing, and it's fantastic. Christmas with the Stongstad family is coming up, so I'll get to meet some of their family members. Look for a blog update after Christmas and, yes, pictures.

American student has undeniable affect on Norwegians

Fredrik and Oddy
I colored Andres a picture and basically made his day
Me, Jackie Chan (Ali) and Daniel Me and Mohammed
Coloring at school....

Let's overlook the fact that EVERYONE has taken to calling my friend Malipo "Flav" as I have, despite the fact that they have no idea who Flava Flav is, and that my friends do The Caitlyn and spend time with a My Little Pony coloring book instead of paying attention in class. What I find more amazing is that my friends are actually starting to say, honestly, "What it do?" Not to mention as much as being around so much Norwegian language affects my English, I caught my friend Oddy talking to a lunch lady in English yesterday. And, despite their protests, I think they secretly like it when I sing rap songs to them.

Lefse Søndag

I spent Sunday making lefse with my next host mom (I'm moving next Wednesday by the way) and a friend of hers.
Step One: Dig right into the ridiculously sticky dough and work it with flour until it stops sticking to you.
Step Two: Roll that baby out, nice and thin
Step Three: Use a tool (that seems like some primitive form of torture) to puncture the dough to avoid air bubbles while cooking.
Step Four: (very carefully) Wrap the dough around a stick, then unroll onto the hotplate. Allow the lefse to cook for a couple minutes on each side.

There you have it. I ate some last night and I'm not gonna lie, it was pretty dank. (dank=good for those of you who aren't up to date on all the slang)


On a random note, I had a dream in Norwegian last night. Not the entire dream, but a conversation in my dream was in Norwegian...and I know exactly what I said. Crazy.

A (very) short list of Norwegian trademarks.

We all know the stereotypes: blond hair, blue eyes, not quite friendly. But upon living in the country, a few more things have been brought to my attention that are uniquely and typically Norwegian.

For starters, the majority of the youth in my school, male and female alike, tuck their pants into their socks. Sweat pants, jeans, anything. Although I've requested explanation multiple times as to why they would voluntarily do such a thing, I have yet to receive one besides, "We just do." Can you just take a minute to imagine what this looks like? If need be, take six seconds to tuck your own pants into your socks. Ok, now look at what you've done. Does this look stylish to you? Like, attractive at all? Would you go out in public like that? If you answered yes to any of my previous questions, God help you. I've told at least seven people that if they dressed like that in an American high school, there would be consequences. I have yet to give into this outrageous trend, and I seriously doubt that i ever will.

Brown cheese. Or should I say, brunost. I have previously described my infatuation with this product, and so I do not believe it is necessary to repeat. I'd just like to let it be known that it is, in fact, a vital aspect of Norwegian life.

Black licorice. It is a nation-wide obsession, no exaggeration. I personally find it disgusting, and I get odd looks every time I decline, as it is offered to me quite frequently.

School Days

me and kim
jonathan, me, jackie chan
Flav, me, Kim (jonathan in back)

me and jonathan
me and kim andre. man am i bringing the word sign to norway!!! i just throw it all over the place.
me and kim
me and george/vegard
me and flav

So FINALLY the Norwegians are getting over their fear of the English language. A few short, odd stories of how I am finally becoming down with students who, just days ago, either didn't know I existed or refused to acknowledge that I do.

There is a guy named Alan in my class. I'd never really talked to him before because, honestly, he's quite intimidating. Most other students don't talk to him either. He just always has this expression on his face that like if you look at him wrong he could possibly take you out. So this one day he was walking down the hall and I was just sitting at a table, took a risk, and said, "Hey man, what's up?" To my surprise he came and sat by me, smiled, and was just like, "Oh not much, what's up with you?" I couldn't lie. "Can I tell you something son? You are one intimidating person. Like, I am terrified of you, especially right now." Another smile and, "Oh come on, I'm not scary!" Right. So for a couple days after that, I was cool by association. I'd get a head nod or something along those lines. Then he began to go out of his way to say hi to me, and we began speaking on a regular basis. It was a big deal when he'd walk across the hall just to punch me in the shoulder and say hi...which really hurt by the way, and confirmed my theory that he could most definitely kill a man if he really wanted to. So now me and Alan are down.

On Monday, our English class had a speaker from America about Brooklyn. I got to talking with him before he started his presentation because I enjoy talking to native English speakers. He asked me about my relationship with the others in my class and I, half joking, pointed to a group of guys behind me and said "Awe they don't really like me, except for Alan back there." A guy named Espen turned to me and said, "I like you!" Again, I couldn't lie. "Man, I have never spoken to you before. Ever." This made Espen nervous, and he started rambling about how it's hard because he isn't so good at English and stuff like that, and I was like, "Man it's ok, that's in the past, we can be friends now." Sounded good to him.

Yesterday I had gym class. While waiting for our teacher, I sat in the bleachers with Alan, Espen, and four other guys in my class I'd never talked to before. "Man, I feel like I can sit here now because I mean Alan man, we're down. And man Espen, you and I bonded yesterday. And now I'm going to get down with the rest of you." A guy named JOrgen (imagine the O as an o with a slash through it, my American laptop doesn't support the three extra letters) started talking to me, while the other three just listened. Basically, they love me. Like seriously, Alan, Espen, and JOrgen are my boys now. I'm still working on the others.

I'm also randomly associated with a few guys from an English class I spoke to about America last week. I was speaking about illegal immigration in the US, and when they ran out of questions about that they asked questions about me and my life in the states. "What does the tattoo on your foot say?" "You look like Lindsay Lohan!" "Do you watch Grey's Anatomy?" "I sat by you on the bus this morning!" So now I'm down with a couple of the talkative ones.

In my school, there's special "lines." You can specialize in things like dance, music, and construction. I met three guys who go construction at the train station last week. No one at school really talks to the construction guys besides the other construction guys, because they kind of only like each other. But there was no one else there, so I decided to give it a try. "Will you guys speak English to me until my ride comes?" It went well. Now the construction guys love me. I feel like my friendship with them on top of my friendship with Alan is like, guaranteed protection. It'll come in handy in the spring with the Russ (seniors) have their "terror days" where they target the underclassmen. Protection. That's what it's all about. It also helps that I'm good friends with Rose, the Russ leader. I feel I'll be fairly safe.

About a month ago I was sitting at a table with my friend Endre, and his friend George (real name Vegard, but no one calls him that) was sitting with him. Within 15 minutes, George and I were tight. Friends for life, that's what this is. So I've gotten in with his friends too. There's a guy, I think his name is Ali, but I call him Jackie Chan because he looks exactly like him and it's a lot easier than trying to say his real name. Jackie can't remember my name either, so it's ok. He calls me something new each time he talks to me. Most recently it was something like Catilenne. Then there's Jonathan, Kim, and a guy everyone just calls The Terrorist, and The Terrorist's friend. There's also (male) Kim, Danny, and a guy with another name I can't remember. I call this man Flav, because he looks exactly like Flava Flav. It's caught on, and even though no one knows who the real Flava Flav is here, he'll be walking down the hallway and someone will be like "Hey Flava Flav!" and his response is, "Yeah, you know I am!"

Yesterday as I was leaving gym, a guy opened the door for me and said, "Hello my little vacuum cleaner!" I met him at lunch today and asked if he knew I was American when he said that to me yesterday. He didn't. I asked if it freaked him out when I responded with, "Heeeey man what it do?" It did. Turns out he's a music student, so he invited me to go sit with his friends. Ah, what the hell. So today I ate lunch with some random musicians Carl, Simon, and Daniel. They also love me.

There is one more random person that deserves a mention. I can't remember her name to save my life, but I think she's Flav's sister. One day she told me she likes my Letterman's jacket, and I said thanks, but it makes me feel really American. She was like, "Nah girl it's cool. Be proud of who you are girl!"

Today I was outside during lunch with a few friends, and a random construction guy was sitting there. No one knew him, so I decided to make contact. He didn't go for it. He explained to the others that he didn't feel comfortable speaking English, so I tried to tell him that it's ok and he can try. He refused. "Dude, I'm trying here, ok? I'm just trying to connect with you. Just open up ok? Let me in." He wouldn't. Even when I reached into his grocery bag and took on of his Twix bars, he just looked at the bag and then back at his feet. I'll get to him eventually.

So, although it took about three months to get here, I've now made connections with some of the most random people in this school, and I'm quite proud of it. I've even got some people starting to say "what it do." They love me and my English slang. And I think it helps when I sing a Yung Jeezy or a MIMS song all the way through. It's a good conversation starter.

Every Day Norway

As requested, here is some information about my daily life in Norway.

I have school Monday-Friday, finishing anywhere from 3:30 to 2:00 every day. I have history, history and philosophy, math, norwegian, english and gym. I was in a dance class for about a day before I realized that my body is too broken from 9 years of gymnastics to handle such activity. On Monday, Tuesday, and Friday mornings I don't have a class for the first hour and a half, because the class offered at these times is biology, which I've already taken at CFHS.
Being in Norway has seriously affected my diet. I'm drinking milk on a daily basis now, what is that all about? It goes well with brown cheese, that's what. Brown cheese is my single most prized possession. It's changed my life, and I fully intend to continue my obsession upon my return to Minnesota. I'd bathe in brown cheese if I could.
Greatest part of Norway: the round-a-bouts. They move a lot faster than stoplights (of which there are few here, stop signs too) and, i believe, decrease road rage. I wish Cannon Falls would incorporate them into the roads, but I don't think most of the population could handle it. Hundreds of casualties is my theory.
Do your best to forgive any spelling errors in this blog ( i just about typed arrers), because as I learn more Norwegian my English suffers. I can't spell, I forget words, and it's getting harder to explain things in English. I feel pretty illiterate, but it's a good sign. Progress.
Ha det bra,
caitlyn

Birthday In Norway

So today was my 17th birthday. I spent the day with my host family, then tonight I went to a movie with a friend from school. Not really much to say about it, but I promised a blog update. :) Ha, so that was it...two sentences. I will give you this though...I am losing my ability to spell in English. A good sign of progress I suppose. Also, when I'm talking to friends online I automatically answer some questions in Norwegian, just because that's what comes to mind first. They get a little irritated.

September 14-16

A couple weekends ago, Rotary reunited me with all of my friends way back from language camp for a conference in Kristansund.

Night one consisted of a 20 minute walk through town to a pizza place...in the rain. After a much appreciated bus ride back, we set to rehearsing for the conference on Saturday afternoon. When we got back to the hotel Katie, Haley, and I were desperately in need of some ice cream. Much to our disappointment, the store at the hotel had been closed for the night, and so we set off down the halls for other means of filling ourselves with cold, creamy goodness.

Part way down the hall of the hotel, we came to an open door that had some serious beats flowing from it. We peered inside, not to a hotel room, but what appeared to be some kind of break room. Sitting at a table behind a laptop and a killer sound system, were three men.

"Ha du is?" I asked with high hopes. The men, although I had asked in Norwegian, were completely and utterly confused. So we tried English. "Do you have any ice cream?" The men explained to us, "Oh, we have all kinds of music!!!" Not getting anywhere, a Rotarian ushered us upstairs to plan for the next days event.

My group of friends decided within 3 minutes that we would perform the Electric Slide, and made our way back down to our new friends to see if they could hook us up with the correct tune. They had me type in the search, but before I could search for "The Electric Slide," I had to remove their previous search: "Ice Cream."

We finally decided on the Funky ChaCha, and performed it with exquisite grace and mad funk flowing through us on Saturday afternoon. We were then transported to what I believe was called the middle of nowhere, where we were forced to climb wet, slippery trees and jump off...explain the logic please. We then ate dinner in true Little House fashion, in a freezing cold barn by candle light.

When we returned to the hotel, the students who are already halfway through their year announced that all the girls have to switch clothes with the guys. Suspiciously, none of the guys protested but were in fact, excited and all to eager to be put into full make up.

The First Three Weeks...

Week One: Language Camp
I, along with everyone else that ended up there, thought that language camp would take place in Oslo, maybe at a hotel, with plenty to keep us busy when we didn't have class. All 22 of us were dead wrong. No one tried to hide their disappointment as we drifted further and further from Oslo. So, we end up at some camp in the middle of nowhere basically.
So after a couple days, friendships were established. The coolest people there (Caleb Gould, Alex Botkin, Hayle Perros, Katie Legan, Carlos some Mexican last name, and myself) obviously bonded right away. We had class from about 8:30-4 every day, with lunch and other breaks in there also. Aside from class and our 3 meals a day, there wasn't much as far as entertainment goes.
The camp came to be known among la familia (me and my friends) as Rehab. Three structured meals a day, then we were thrown into an all white room with a deck of cards and a TV that got like 3 channels.
Ah, the meals. Well, we had lamb for 5 meals in a row, no lie. It didn't get much better when they decided to switch it up: moose. You may think it wouldn't be that bad, but think of it as...moose meat pudding, which is basically what it was. Then they finally hit us with some pizza and everything got a little better.
Eventually, we found ways to pass the time. We played cards, we butchered the Spanish language by trying to speak to Carlos in his native tongue, we chilled on the docks, we watched love blossom between a couple Canadians. We even invited a cross dresser at the camp (no relation to Rotary) to come swimming but, you see, (s)he had just put on makeup and wasn't about to mess it up in the lake. Soon we found ourselves not searching for something to do, but rather unknowingly staying up until 2 in the morning and reluctant to go to sleep.
Sad goodbyes at the end of the week.

Week Two: A Couple Different Places

Sarah (a girl from North Carolina) and I left language camp together, thinking we were going to meet our host families somewhere. We ended up on some random farm (that I later found belonged to a Rotarian) in Stange. Sarah left with her counselor, and I was to stay on the farm for the weekend. Talk about the most awkward thing I've ever experienced.
Dorthe, their 23 year old daughter, had been an exchange student in the US, and was quick to make me feel welcome. We went to the mall in Hamar, a birthday party in Stange, and Norway's equivalent of the CF Fireman's Dance.
After my weekend with the random family, I went to stay with my counselor for about 5 days. During these five days, I started school at Stange VGS. Friends there include Ida, Nina, and Julianne.

Week Three: Finally With My Host Family

So now I'm with the Midgard family, and it's about time. I'll be with them until about Christmas time.
There was a Rotary organized trip hiking in the mountains this past weekend, which I passed on because I didn't really want to pay upwards of 200 kroner to go die in the middle of a mountain. Instead, I went with my host mom and sister to a cabin (a friend of the family) about an hour north of Ottestad. Well, this morning before we left, we went hiking up a mountain.
Within 3 minutes of our departure I felt like I was going to die. I had passed up a weekend with some of my friends for a weekend with my family, hiking what I safely assume to be a more treacherous trail than the Rotary program would have offered. There was no path at all, so we wandered aimlessly through the woods. There were like 8 Indiana Jones moments when I had to jump what might as well have been canyons...ok so they weren't actually that big, but there was nasty mud and water at the bottom and the grass was all wet and I could have died...or fallen. Then it got all Blair Witch on me. There was more vegetation there than in the Blair Witch Project, and these woods were less ominous simply because it was in full color as opposed to black and white, but it still generated the feel.
Anyway, long story kind of short I did happen to make it out alive. However, I did fall on my face three times and got nailed in the face by a branch. So by the end of our "little walk" I was wet up to my knees, dirty, cold, quite possibly hosting nasty bugs, and probably dying of an asthma attack.


So, here's the blog update I kept getting bugged about. Sad to say no pictures yet, but this can hold you over until they're up.

Leaving tomorrow

Well everyone, I leave tomorrow night! Check my blog for updates and other news from me!! :)


Cait