Blåtur

A Norwegian’s social life mostly revolves around their family.  There is also an unspoken rule that adults don’t accept “friends” into their life after the age of 20.  Most adults hang out only with family members or childhood friends.  In the Christian community, things may be a bit more flexible, but outside of that, Norwegians pretty much keep to themselves.

The entire school system in Norway is set up to socialize children so they learn to get along with others.  They figure they will be easier to work with in their upcoming adult life.  Many Norwegians have the same job for decades, so having a difficult co-worker makes everyone miserable. People don’t tend to develop friendships with co-workers, and they never go out for drinks after work, as is common in America, but companies figured out a way to put co-workers together in an atmosphere outside of the job so they get to know one another better.  It’s called a “Blåtur” – literally meaning “blue trip” with the idea that the employees take a trip out “in the blue.”

The tradition of the Blåtur is that it is a complete mystery, paid for by the employer.  They happen at least once a year, but more frequently is the norm.  There is usually a committee in every large company that plans these mystery trips and all employees are invited to attend, with a sign-up sheet posted stating when it will happen and what will be required of the participant, i.e., appropriate attire or things they need to bring along.

These Blåtur  trips involve a nice dinner and often sleeping overnight in some special accomodations.  Transporation is provided by the employer whether they hire a bus or boat to get to their final destination.  Activities include things in the ”teambuilding” arena. 

The fun of the Blåtur for Norwegians is that they have no idea what they are signing up for, but it’s always good.  It’s also the most socially acceptable time to get to know their co-workers on a more personal level, since there is never any chit-chat around the water cooler when they are at work.  Discussing one’s personal life during work hours just doesn’t happen. 

Norwegian companies often have Christmas parties for their employees and families, but the Blåtur is meant just for the employees themselves. 

There are hundreds of websites advertising unique experiences for Blåtur outings.  Events might include hiking, kayaking, rock climbing, dog sledding, spelunking or going on a zipline.   It’s the kind of thing that probably won’t ever happen in America though, just from a liability standpoint alone.  Also, a common activity is taking employees to a shooting range.  I’m not sure that’s the kind of skill American employers want their employees to have.

Janteloven

A friend I made in Norwegian class is from Brazil and has lived in Norway for six years now.  I heard from her recently that she is moving back home.  She just can’t handle life in Norway any longer, even though she loves the country.  She’s an over achiever and puts her all into her job, but her hard work ethic is not appreciated in Norway.  Her co-workers and boss are constantly criticizing her because she stays late, works on the weekends and takes work home.  On the surface, it seems an awful lot like jealousy, or that she’s making the rest of them look bad, but I found out recently that what’s really underlying her situation at work is something called “Janteloven” – The Jante Law.

There has been an attitude in the Norwegian culture for centuries, it seems, that standing out is a bad thing – the exact opposite of the American mentality.  Everyone in Norway wants to fit in to certain stereotypes and parameters.  As the Chinese proverb goes, “It’s the nail that sticks out that gets pounded back down,” and no one wants to be pounded.  So Norwegians are content with mediocrity in the work place with no real drive to advance, since everyone makes a decent wage no matter what.

This Janteloven came to light in a book that was written in 1933, pointing out what seemed to be the pervasive culture of the day.  It was fiction, meant to highlight the absurdity in this way of thinking, but it was actually all the more embraced by Norwegians once they saw it in print.  The author made up what he thought were ten unspoken “rules” that pertained to this mentality.  The first rule is that, “You are nobody special.” Other rules point out that “you are not smarter, better, or more important than anyone else and you aren’t good at anything.”  It’s laughable to me, but it really is the thinking of many Norwegians, even today.

I know this “law” had to have been around long before 1933 because my mother’s great-grandparents all immigrated from Norway in the late 1800s and this mindset was obviously passed down to her.  Whenever I would tell her anything great anyone did, her response was always, “They still have to put their pants on one leg at a time,” which feeds right into the heart of Janteloven.

In today’s Norway, however, they are trying to reverse this way of thinking, and are now teaching the children that “we are ALL special.”  It still however, is not acceptable to brag about personal achievements.  Everyone accepts that they are just as good as everyone else, except of course, when it comes to the Winter Olympics.

Dugnads

Norwegian society is quite social in nature.   Everything pretty much revolves around the family, but getting together with friends and neighbors is also highly valued. 

In the old days, Norwegian culture operated somewhat like the Amish, in that they often pulled together to help one another during a crisis, or to build a large structure, somewhat like the Amish do for barn building.  This type of volunteer community work party is called a “dugnad” (pronounced doog-nod).  Traditionally, the family benefitting from the work of others provided a meal for the volunteers afterwards. 

Dugnads are still a big part of Norwegian society, but they have a little different twist. The dugnad has moved away from helping individual families, mostly because  the government pretty much takes care of every need they will ever have.  Dugnads are still held regularly, but now by schools, churches and clubs, which don’t tend get the same level of government support as individuals.

These “not for profit” organizations need volunteer labor to clean up the grounds or buildings or to get places spiffed up for a big event.  Usually, volunteers make waffles or hot dogs and keep the coffee flowing, somewhat following along with the spirit of the traditional dugnad.

Neighborhood streets also post notices at least annually of upcoming dugnads, where everyone is socially pressured to be home that day, trimming hedges, sweeping sidewalks and prettying up their place.  I guess this is where the Norwegian culture “helps” neighbors to get together “socially” for the benefit of many.  No one is safe from the dugnad’s obligations.  Dugnads put on by churches and schools don’t come with the same sense of commitment as the ones put on by neighborhood groups, however.

Apartment and condo buildings also have dugnads on a regular basis. If a person lives in the building, whether they rent or own their place, they are obligated to participate in everything from washing common windows, floors and stairs to sweeping sidewalks and doing yardwork. It’s just too expensive to hire people to do these kinds of jobs in Norway, so it’s a way to keep costs down while sharing the workload.

If a person is out of town or has some other good reason for not participating in a dugnad where they live, it usually results in a kind of “tax,” where the person must pay something into a fund which then helps buy the food that feeds the others.

The very nature of the dugnad is that it’s free labor, but in today’s Norway, they’ve even figured out a way to put a tax on that.

Responsibilities

As an American, traveling around the country of Norway, I’ve encountered several situations that make me quite uncomfortable.  Norway can be a very dangerous place, as their roads are often just one lane, and steep drop offs are the norm.  In many places they put some kind of guardrail, but many places they don’t.  Even if there’s a guardrail, it’s only there for the confidence of the driver, as it’s obvious if it were impacted by a vehicle, it would do nothing to spare the life of anyone.

I feel so coddled as an American, because when I happen upon a road construction site for example, I expect certain things. For one, advance warning there IS road construction ahead, would be nice.  Driving 50mph around a corner, only to encounter most the road taken up by a large excavator, never really sets well with me.  There often are no flaggers stopping traffic, either.  Norwegians just assume if you see a large object in the middle of the road, you’ll stop.  And if there are cars coming directly at you in your lane, you are smart enough to figure out that you better not drive forward until they are no longer there.  What a concept. 

What I find even more amazing is that the excavator may be clearing rock from the roadside, swinging the cab to and fro, and he too, must watch what he’s doing so he doesn’t smack the side of a passing car as he does his job.  These are things I’d think would happen in third world countries, not a place as sophisticated as Norway.

But when I analyze the inherent dangers lurking throughout the land, whether it’s popular lookout peaks with no protective fencing, wet floors in grocery stores, or roads without guardrails, I have to wonder how people keep from dying each and everyday from these hazards.  Then I remember that Norwegians have been taught to take responsibility for themselves from an early age, and lawsuits are rare.

One cousin we visited had a thorny rosebush growing into their balcony.  When their 18-month-old walked outside near it, I panicked and suggested they stop her so she wouldn’t be hurt by the thorns.  I was politely told that she already had one encounter with the rosebush and she’d learned to stay away from it.  It was such a foreign concept to an American like me - not protecting the child, but letting the child learn where the dangers lie.

Since Norway provides basically free medical care, this system of taking personal responsibility for oneself actually works out quite well because if they do mess up, it may cost them their lives, but it won’t cost them much else.

Cabins

Much of life in Norway revolves around time spent in cabins.  For those who live by the sea, a cabin in the mountains is a must.  For those who live in the mountains, there’s a good chance they own a cabin by the sea.

Cabins are highly regulated in Norway in that no one is allowed to use them for more than eight months a year, and they are never allowed to receive mail there.  Mostly, I suppose, because the mailman wouldn’t want to schlepp up mountainsides to deliver it. 

There’s an entire sub-culture in Norway around cabins.  It seems they all use the same decorating style, which I love.  Knotty-pine is used for floors, walls and ceilings, mostly because it’s the cheapest wood available, but it’s also the coziest looking. 

An entire genre of “cabin furniture” has special patterns on the fabric and wooden arms and legs that match the walls and floors. 

Family heirlooms are often kept in cabins – whether it’s grandma’s hand woven throw rug or a pair of grandpa’s handmade skis hanging on the wall.  Felted wool slippers always sit by the door, and hand crotched towels are used in the kitchen. 

It’s a throwback in time to step into a Norwegian cabin.  It’s almost a shrine to life in the old days when everything was handmade, life was simpler, and there wasn’t much to do when the day’s chores were done. 

Norwegians enjoy going to their cabins to go for walks in the summer or ski in the winter, followed by massive amounts of coffee and just relaxing. 

Most cabins don’t have bathrooms.  Pit toilets are the norm and running water often comes from a nearby stream.  Oil lamps sit on the mantel, and rock fireplaces are well stocked with wood for the burning.

Even those who don’t own cabins can belong to hiking clubs and have access to mountain cabins owned by the club.  There is an entire “mountain cabin” system where it’s possible to hike from cabin to cabin and enjoy a decent night’s sleep, safe from the elements.  Some cabins are even stocked with bedding and food and those who use them just pay on the honor system for what they’ve used.  That would never work in America.

Even if a person doesn’t own a cabin, if no one is home, many will just use the deck or steps as a place to rest or have a meal, as if they were the owners. 

As far as the Norwegian society has progressed, with a very high standard of living, it seems odd to me that what they enjoy the most is the simplistic living of years past.