Inheritance

Many inheritance laws in Norway date back to Viking times.  They are sacred and impossible to change, but some are trying.

A huge issue with inheritance has to do with the family farm.  The farm always went to the eldest son, or daughter, if there were no sons.  There are no property taxes in Norway so inheriting a chunk of land with many buildings hasn’t been a burden to anyone, except for the younger siblings, who get nothing.  Siblings get a portion of other assets, but the farm itself can’t be divided among them.  A recent change, however, now allows the oldest child, male or female, to get the farm. 

I know of a woman whose been taunting her siblings with the fact she gets the farm when their mother dies.  Once she’s the owner, she plans on dividing up the farm and selling off pieces for cabin lots, which strangely, she’s allowed to do.  She brags about how rich she’ll become by doing this.  It’s caused such a disturbance in their family that her mother has lawyers trying to stop her from inheriting the farm, but it requires changing this very ancient law. The case is going before Norway’s version of the Supreme Court, but no one believes anything will change. 

Another law that can’t be ignored is that no one is allowed to disinherit their children or spouse.  The law governs who gets what, so very few people have a will, since it wouldn’t make much difference.  The children share in two thirds of the assets and the spouse gets one third, but the spouse is allowed to live in the house until it’s no longer needed, if it was not jointly owned to begin with. 

Norway does not have community property. Everyone has their own assets.  It’s uncommon to own things jointly, so each person’s assets are distributed according to their survivors.  If they have no spouse or children, their money goes to their next of kin - even if it’s their cousin that moved to America fifty years ago - because if they don’t find some surviving relative, the government takes it all.  Nice backup plan.

An elderly woman we know has been living with her “man” for thirty years.  They were both widowed and had children from previous marriages.  She has significantly more assets than him.  They figured it wouldn’t be fair to her children if they got married, because her kids would lose one third of their inheritance.  So they traveled to the Canary Islands, found an empty church up in the mountains and exchanged vows and rings in the sight of God.   They wanted Him to be part of their relationship, but because of Norway’s inheritance laws, they needed to keep the government out.

Russ

While it’s customary in America for parents to have a little party where friends and family give gifts to their kids when they graduate from high school, it’s not the case in Norway.  The party and gifts happen at Confirmation time, when the kids are in 8^th grade.  By the time they finish high school, they are 19, and I’m not sure they even get a “congratulations” out of the deal.

But Norwegians are a clever bunch, and their high school graduates have figured out their own special way to celebrate their accomplishments – with something called “Russ” (pronounced “roose.”)

Russ has been going on for centuries, but I’m sure it’s changed quite a bit over the years. From the first of May until the 17^th, all “seniors” identify themselves as such by wearing bright red bib-overalls, which they aren’t allowed to wash or take off (except to sleep) the entire time.  The overalls have all kinds of decals on them, including their name, the year, and various slogans.  They are like walking billboards, and hard to miss.

For kids who can afford it, they pool their money and buy a Russbil (a mini van that’s been painted red).  They paint the names of all the owners on the van and drive it all over town during those 17 days.  They often attach loud speakers or strobe lights.  Again, hard to miss.

The soon-to-be graduates party every night during Russ.  Each graduating class makes up their own challenges (think “prank”) and the kids go about during those Russ days, trying to accomplish them.  They are often illegal, dangerous, rude and/or crude.  They get appropriate tokens that attach to the tassel on their cap for each task achieved.  Their cap is worn only on the final day of Russ, which they proudly display during the 17^th of May parade.

One evening I was walking on the sidewalk and a Russbil went by and someone threw a water balloon at me.  They didn’t achieve that challenge because they missed me, but that’s on the mild side of the kinds of things they do.  A lot of the challenges have to do with public nudity, sex and drinking.  Again, hard to miss.

Russ kids also make up their own bright red business cards with a crazy picture of themselves on it and some kind of quote, often very raunchy.  They trade them among themselves but it’s also become a huge craze for younger kids to collect them, like American kids used to collect baseball cards.   But with the crude slogans on them, parents aren’t too thrilled with this whole Russ tradition.  Perhaps that’s why, when they graduate, they don’t get a thing.

Confirmation

Historically, Confirmation in Norway was a special year-long course of study that 14 year olds went through to complete their Christian upbringing.  It “confirms” they have been baptized and are officially a child of God.  But like many things in Norway, the times they are a-changin’. 

Not that long ago, Confirmation took an enormous amount of time to accomplish all the memorization work required, from the Bible as well as other sources.  It was serious business.  If the Priest asked a kid one of the many questions they must know the answer to, and they were unable to answer it, they could not be Confirmed until they completed another year of study and answered correctly. A party afterwards was certainly in order to celebrate such an accomplishment. 

As the years went on, the party following the Confirmation ceremony became the main focus.  It was no longer just about food and fellowship, it was more about the gifts the child received for their efforts.  Now that Norway is an incredibly wealthy nation, most of those gifts are Norwegian kroner (money).  It’s the norm for Confirmants to be the recipient of thousands of kroner.  Most of these young teenagers receive the equivalent of two to three thousand dollars, but upwards of six thousand isn’t unheard of.

Because of this incredible infusion of cash, no one wants to miss out on this “coming of age” party, which is more like what Confirmation has become in Norway since it’s Christian roots are quickly going by the way-side.  It’s sad to me they still call it “Confirmation” though because it’s supposed to confirm they have a relationship with the God Almighty, but it no longer does.  The process of being confirmed, even in the State Church, has just become a time of fun and games, with occasional lectures, but no serious Bible study or memory work required.  Everyone passes, as the requirements are very accommodating to a child’s busy life.  They only have to attend church eight times in the course of a year, for example.

Today in Norway, every teenager chooses be confirmed, even if they don’t believe in God, because they don’t want to miss out on the party.  For those who have an aversion to going to church, they now have the option to take a secular “humanitarian” course of study, which takes Christianity and God out of the process altogether.

My 12-year-old son asked if we could move to Norway for another year when he is 14 so he can go through Confirmation there.  I haven’t answered him.  In my opinion, it’s a very sad time in Norway because it appears that Confirmation now just confirms that for most young people, like many adults, their god is money. 

17th of May

Norway doesn’t really have an “Independence Day,” like America does, but they come close with the 17^th of May – their Constitution Day.   It’s the day the Constitution was signed in 1905, officially giving them freedom from Sweden.  The war they fought to get that freedom happened in 1814, but as I’ve discovered from living in Norway, things just take a long time to get done.

There are a few similarities in the way both America and Norway celebrate their big national pride days.  It’s common for many Norwegian to barbeque on that day, but they call it a “grill.”   Norwegians have parades, too, but they aren’t anything like America’s.  The first year I attended a 17^th of May parade, I couldn’t believe it was for real.  There are more participants than observers.

I’m so Americanized, I expected marching bands, floats, clowns and candy flying through the air.  What a culture shock.  The parade in Norway just consisted of school children walking down the street in their finest attire, waving Norwegian flags, shouting out “Hip Hip Hoorah!”  That was it.  It lasted way too long. 

The Norwegian word for “parade” is “tog,” which, not so coincidentally, is the same word they use for “train.”  I understood perfectly.

The parade is the big event of the day.  Each town has a huge parade that lasts at least an hour.  The parade we attended one year in Bergen was so long, they had to have two parades going on simultaneously, heading in different directions on the street, just to get in all the participants.  Observers on opposite sides of the street saw completely different parades, but after a while, it all just looked the same anyway. It lasted for two hours.

Most smaller communities also hold their own parade, some hours after the big one in town has finished.  Basically, it’s just the local school district’s parade of all the kids from preschool on up.  Afterwards there are games in a local playfield, cakes and hotdogs for sale, and lots of worn out children.

The best part about 17^th of May is that everyone wears their bunads, the traditional Norwegian costume.  Each area of Norway has their own special design so all the women wear the same dress with lots of silver adornments.  The men’s bunad consists of knickers and a short style wool jacket.  It sounds weird, but looks very cool. The whole family gets decked out, even the babies.  If bunads are not worn, then suits and ties or fancy black dresses are a must. 

It’s quite the formal day and not at all what one would be wearing in America while standing around a barbeque eating hot dogs.

The Flag

I think Norwegians love their flag, even more than they love their own mothers.  I’ve never experienced anything like it.  They beam with pride as if watching their child take its first step.  Maybe it has something to do with that first step they took away from their tie with Sweden back in 1814, or that the Germans wouldn’t allow it’s presence at all during WWII.

Unlike the flag in America, that can fly anytime, the display of the Norwegian flag is highly regulated.  I’ve noticed, just by being a parent, when something is restricted, it creates a greater desire for that thing – so maybe that has something to do with their intensity for it.

Attached to every flag for purchase is a card with all the rules surrounding its use.  I know America has certain rules around its flag that probably only the Boy Scouts know by heart, but in Norway, everyone knows them.  Norwegians are big time conformists so no one would dare break their sacred rules.

To begin with, the flag is only allowed to fly outside everyone’s home on national holidays like New Year’s Day, Easter, 17^th of May (their Constitution Day), Labor Day, Pentecost and Christmas.  It’s also allowed on the birthdays of the members of the royal family.  The flag is only allowed to fly at individual homes if there is a birthday in the household, or if someone is getting married, baptized or confirmed.  It’s also allowed to fly at half-mast if someone has died.  The State Church flies it at half-mast also, but only during the time of the funeral.

The time of day the flag is allowed to fly is also very regulated.  During the winter months, November through February, it can’t be hung out until nine in the morning and must be back in by nine at night.  The rest of the year it can come out at eight o’clock, except for those folks that live way up north – they are only allowed to fly their flag from ten in the morning until three in the afternoon.  I’m sure some of them move further south for that very reason.

It’s as predictable as the church bells on a Sunday morning, at the exact moment the hands of the clock strike the hour, front doors open, and flags appear.  I’m sure everyone is standing just inside their door like a runner at the starting gate, waiting to be the first one on their street to fly it.  Everyone has a flag pole.

Inside every home is a smaller version of the flag, displayed year round, 24 hours a day.  Thankfully, no one controls that flag, yet.