Slekta mi! Day 3

*originally written 7/1*

Another good breakfast at the hotel. They served us eggs (scrambled and hard boiled), bread of many and various kinds, vegetables, meats, cheeses, cereals, yoghurt, fruits, jams and preserves, and more. There was something for everyone (and even a tea that I liked!). This morning they even had diced, fried potatoes, sausages, and tomatoes and beans! It was almost overwhelming, that much variety.

Some relatives left on the 11am ferry back to Bergen, so we said good-bye before leaving for the final reunion activities. It was so great to meet all these warm, friendly people - and to know that I'm related to every single one of them? Wow! What an amazing feeling.

Once again we packed everyone up and car-pooled over to the Bremnes church for a short service led by cousin Helge (Inta Tove's husband). The church is the same one that Ivar and Anna helped build after they moved to Bømlo; in fact, the chandelier in the chancel, hanging just in front of the altar, was given by Ivar and Anna! Another wow moment. It's so incredible that we got to be in the church where my great-great-great-grandparents attended, as well as where my great-great-grandparents were all baptized and grew up. Cousin Gerhard Knutson also read two Bible verses and said a few words. My favorite part of the morning however was singing hymns in Norwegian; there's just something about singing in a language you don't know that's pretty cool. I genuinely enjoyed it. (Plus, the pews were much more comfortable this time!)

The church at Bremnes.

Cousin Gerhard, with his Norway tie.

After one more family picture, we headed over to another cemetery - this time the one where Ivar and Anna are buried! It feels like a cliche to say it, but, again, it was amazing to be there. Not many people get an experience like this, getting to go back to the country your family originally came from and see the communities they helped shape. After a short ceremony, where we placed fresh flowers at Anna and Ivar's grave, we were allowed to walk through the cemetery until it was time to go. Now, being me, I enjoy walking through old cemeteries; I find them peaceful and full of history. I like looking at the tombstones and seeing the names and dates and this was no exception. What I didn't know was that my name is quite the traditional Norwegian name (my parents swear they didn't know just how many "Anna"s were in the family tree when they named me and I'm inclined to believe them). I walked through three quarters of this tiny little cemetery and found 17 different Anna's. A little strange, since I can walk through cemeteries in the U.S. and not see a single Anna anywhere.

Ivar and Anna's tombstone.

Once we left the cemetery, we traveled to Gilje bedehus (a prayer house and community center) for a lunch of rømmegrøt, hot dogs (for those picky eaters among us - surprisingly, Dad didn't have one!), and the bløtekake that we hadn't eaten last night. Rømmegrøt was an interesting experience. It was nice and sweet with sugar and cinnamon on it, but it was so incredibly thick and heavy! I felt full after one small bowl (Peter however ate 3 helpings and I'm not sure how).

Rømmegrøt

Once most people had finished eating, cousin Steve (Gerhard's son) got up and led a short program. He began by thanking Aina, Asta, and Inta Tove again (who did a really fantastic job putting this whole reunion together... takk for alt!) and then brought Linda up to talk about how we could make a family social network of sorts using her reunion blog (great idea, Linda!).

Post-program, Olaf took a few of us on a walk in the area around the bedehus to see the house that Ivar and Anna lived in on Bømlo. The house is still in use today, owned as a summer house by a woman from the mainland. The walk there and back was lovely - what a beautiful sunny day!

Then it was time for good-byes at the bedehus. Cue a surprise for the Hegland Family! Cousins Kjerstin, Ove, Kennet, and Silje insisted that instead of taking the boat from Bømlo to Bergen, we drive back with them. What a family we have. The drive to Bergen was filled with conversation, beautiful views, and some quality time with cousins.

On the car ferry!

Back in Bergen we hunted down some dinner (finally going for more Norwegian Italian at Leone de Mare), unpacked our weekend bags, and collapsed in exhaustion. What a busy, fun-filled weekend.

A short note to all the relatives that have begun reading this blog at Linda's suggestion: thank you! For those of you I met this past weekend, it was a pleasure getting to know you. Linda, a special thanks to you for promoting me on your blog! For those whom I have not yet met in person, I'm glad I could let you live vicariously through my posts and I hope to meet you someday! Now, a shameless plug: as my "About Me" section says, I'm going everywhere this summer. The whole purpose of this blog was to chronicle my travels and adventures this summer and fall (when I study abroad in Italy), so please keep reading and commenting! Comments from my extensive family (and friends) make my day and I love to hear from you. I'm excited to share my upcoming semester abroad with you all and hope you keep coming back to hear more. 

Now on to more about Norway!

Slekta mi! Day 2

*originally written 6/30*

After a delicious breakfast at the hotel, we loaded all the relatives into the various cars and mini buses we'd brought to Bømlo and drove the half hour or so to Moster, one of the oldest churches in Norway and the place where Christianity first reached the country. The church at Moster was established in 995 by Olav Tryggvason after he crossed the North Sea from England. Olav was originally a Viking but converted while in England, was baptized, and sailed to Norway to claim the throne. When he landed in Moster, he built a wooden stave church, which lasted 150 years before a stone church was built on the same spot. We got to go inside the church and hear about the history of Christianity in Norway as well as that of the church (relevant, since we have been hearing all about how Ivar and Anna were very invested in their church and religious life). As we entered the church, our guide began chanting in Latin. Wow! So crazy to hear Latin with a slight Norwegian accent but she had a GORGEOUS voice and I enjoyed every second of it. After the short talk in the church, during which we sat in some really uncomfortable box pews (boy, am I glad we didn't have to sit through a three hour sermon on those things like they used to!), we followed our tour guide out into the green to the cemetery at the side of the church. She showed us a "deal stone" - a very large rock with a hole in the middle, large enough to put your entire arm through. People thought that if a deal was struck and the deal makers shook on it through the deal stone hole, it would be a very good deal with positive results. Please realize that by saying this hole was big enough to fit an arm through, I mean a normal person's arm. I could probably have fit both arms through, all the way up to the shoulders. And if that wasn't enough, the hole looked like a giant footprint! Legend says that this particular deal stone was made when St. Olav (also known as the Holy Olav, which is quite fun to say) stamped his foot on the ground - putting it straight through the rock! Talk about a feet of strength. Get it?

The Deal Stone

Post-deal stone, we went into a much newer building to see a short exhibit called "From Heathendom to Christendom," which illustrated Norway's ancient mythological traditions and the move to Christianity by the nation, as well as the integration of Christian images and symbols into traditional Norse stories and pictures. Following that exhibit was an equally short exhibition on the geology of Moster, displayed in a real cave tunnel. (I was kind of excited to be in the cave - I could breathe to full capacity! Asthmatics rejoice!) The cave let out into a large amphitheater, where it was quite fun to watch the younger cousins play. Lars and Live treated us to a dance while Louisa merrily ran all over to avoid the Tickle Monster (her uncle Erik).

We then all headed back to Bømlo proper, to the hotel, to split into activity groups for the afternoon. Dad and Peter joined a group that hiked to the top of Mt. Siggjo, others napped, Mom and I went to Svortland with Nancy, Lindsay, and Karen for some shopping. Mom found a new scarf while I also got a new scarf and a top for my time in Florence - and all our items were on sale. Go us.

A few hours later, we all met back at the hotel, dropped off bags, got cleaned up, and car-pooled out to Hiskholmen - a refurbished, historic smokehouse in a rocky inlet just off the coast. Hiskholmen was one of eight old merchant houses which developed out of a law from 1303, when Håkon Håkonson (the same guy who built Håkonshallen) ordered a guest house placed every three miles along the main thoroughfares for use by travelers of both sea and land. Hiskholmen, thanks to a lot of dedication and hard work put in by Kjell Steinsvåg (the current owner), is still around today and remarkably well preserved. We stayed outside, enjoying the weather, for quite a while, taking pictures and mingling. We even got around to taking a huge family photo! A journalist from the Bømlo paper had gotten wind of our reunion and wanted to get some pictures and information on the gathering (apparently the locals can't quite wrap their heads around the fact that there are so many of us - much less so many who are from the States! I can't either.) I'll post the links once they're up and translated. While waiting for dinner, the Norwegian cousins, led by Asta, showed us a new game, called Slå På Ringen, which was rather similar to Duck, Duck, Goose. I was only picked once but boy, was it fun.

The view from Kiskholmen.

Hiskholmen.

The whole family!

Soon after pictures and games, we all went inside to eat. We were served a seafood buffet consisting of pickled herring, two types of salmon, three types of shrimp, whole stuffed crabs, scallops, mussels, salad and bread - all cold. The food was good, but there were some looks of surprise at my table (the kids and young adults) when we discovered the temperature was not what we had expected. Dinner was good though; I got to meet and talk to a number of cousins my age, making new friends and bonding over a shared hatred of the mussels (which looked nasty). Although most of us at my section of the table were in the 17-26 age range, 9 year old Magnus held his own and we all had a great time. At one point, we told an older cousin that we were all going out later - with Magnus as our DD (which he agreed to right away). We asked him a few minutes later if he knew what a DD was and he said no. We explained, saying that he would keep us all safe while we were drinking, to which he replied "I can't drink." We explained again and his response this time was "oh. I can't drive!" At that point we told him that he was smart, so we'd teach him and we were sure he'd pick it up right away. His next concern? That he didn't have a license (we said he could borrow one of ours). What a good, law-abiding kid I have for a cousin.

Cousins!

Dessert was delicious - Kransekake (almond cake), Lefse, and Bløtekake (cream and jam soaked sweet bread cake). Afterwards, we had a short program which began with singing "happy birthday" to cousin Knut, who will turn 90 at the end of July. Other cousins got up to talk too - my favorite was Tom with his "no lutefisk" signs! We then had a special treat: Kjell, the man who restored Hiskholmen, wanted to speak to us as well. Asta told us that he would speak on the history of Hiskholmen, but instead Kjell launched into one of the most heartfelt and moving speeches I have ever heard (and I couldn't even hear all of it!). He started by saying that he wanted to thank the United States and its people; he told us that we helped during World War I, in World War II (during which he says we saved Norway), in Korea, in Afghanistan, and more. He told us that Americans bring peace, freedom, and education and that he will always be grateful for this. He said that Lincoln taught us to love peace and love each other after the Civil War and that experience has shaped us as a people. He then spoke directly to my table - to the young people - saying that we are responsible for carrying on that legacy of peace, freedom, and helping those in need. We all felt very solemn for all of this - until Woody's hero music from Toy Story 3 came floating in from the other room where the little kids were watching a movie. That kind of killed the mood. Thank goodness we were the only ones who could hear it! Kjell ended by saying that we should tell all our newspapers and all of our people that Norway will never forget, that he will never forget, and that they are all eternally grateful.

Now I don't care what your political beliefs are or what you think of the United States' role in the various conflicts and wars of the world, when you hear an old man like Kjell tell you something like that, you believe it. You listen to it, you believe it, and you want to live up to it. You can't help but want to help people and be the hero that he sees you as. How incredibly powerful.

Slekta mi! Day 1

*originally written 6/29*

7:30am. Uffda. We met our multitude of cousins, uncles, and aunts (gaggle? brace? who knows) at the dock in Bergen (called Strandkaiterminalen) for a bus tour of the countryside. We all packed up our luggage and away we went!

Our first stop was in Seim, to see the graveyard where my great-great-great-great-grandparents, Rasmus and Helena, are buried. All the tombstones in this cemetery are old and weathered enough that you can hardly read most of them now (but I love looking at old tombstones, so I don't mind at all). Because of this, we're not exactly sure where in the cemetery Rasmus and Helena now rest, but we know it's here. After the cemetery,we went over to Håkonshaugen on Kongshaugen Seim (Håkon's Hill on King's Hill, Seim) to see the burial mound of Håkon den gode (Håkon the good - the first official king of Norway). What a cool experience. Håkon died in 961 after being wounded in battle and was buried within sight of his mother's homeland (Seim) and the royal farm - very close to where he was born! Now, my awesome moment of the day: think about this, here I am, in 2012, standing on the same ground my ancestors walked on in the early 1800s, which is also a royal burial mound from the 900s. The amount of history on that ground is staggering. We then visited the Strilemuseum. Some background: a strile was a countryman, someone who lived one days's ride from the city (any city). Strile were usually farmers, usually lower middle class (working men with enough cash to own their own land) and lived on the hill and mountain-sides of Norway. The museum, though small, was a good stop in my opinion. We were shown a movie on traditional Norwegian farming methods of the Strile. Unfortunately, because of advancements in technology and farming, and a lack of interest by younger generations, the old farming methods are slowly being forgotten (hence the purpose of the Strilemuseum). It was really sad seeing these old filmed interviews with 80-some year old farmers who are still doing all the same chores they've always done, with little to no help, and are living with the knowledge that their entire way of life is dying out. I'm so glad the Strilemuseum exists, but I wish it were closer to Bergen so that more people could see it and hear their message.

The cemetery where Rasmus and Helena are buried

Håkonshaugen

Our next stop was Spurkeland Farm, where my great-great-great-grandmother, Anna Spurkeland Thorsheim (yes, it's pronounced the same as my name), was born and raised. Anna lived at Spurkeland until she married Ivar Thorsheim, the son of Rasmus and Helena. Spurkeland is still a functioning farm and is now also used as a historic reenactment site of sorts. The family who owns the farm (Ulwe Christian, his wife, Silje [pronoucned like Celia], and their two daughters) operate a tour/historic reenactment type business where people come out to the farm and the family dresses up in traditional costumes to illustrate what some parts of Norwegian farm life were like. While we were there, they were dressed in medieval costumes and catered lunch for us. We had a delicious wild sheep soup - vilsø suppe - made from local animals (wild, in this case, means not ever kept in a barn, not necessarily wild mountain sheep). We sat at long wooden tables, on benches that were covered with thick, furry animal skins. The only light came from a large fireplace at one end of the hall and the torches on the tables. (They had also placed medieval knight helmets on the tables, which dad, of course, tried on.) A barn cat also appeared; he was excited to have so much attention... every time anyone put their hand behind them (whether on purpose or just leaning back on it), the cat raced over to rub against your fingers and get some lovin'.

After lunch it was back to the bus. We drove by Furubergtunnel (which, in 1927, was Norway's longest tunnel) on our way to Toskheim, the site of Rasmus and Helena's farm. The Thorsheim family still owns Toskheim today - its a busy farm on its own and the family has added a small shed museum to commemorate our history and genealogy. It was really amazing to see all of the family trees; a huge thank you to all the relatives, past and present, who have put so much time and effort into the upkeep of these family trees. You have no idea how much it means to me.

One of the family trees

Lastly, we drove past Eikanger (the community where Rasmus is from) and øvre Mundal (Helena's former home) on the way back to Strandkaiterminalen so we could catch the ferry to Bømlo. I spent the 40 min wait at the dock hunting down postcards (sorry, Coe friends, no Norway postmark - I don't love you enough to pay postage here) and was quite successful.

The ferry was relatively boring; nothing much to see from where we were sitting and too windy on the deck for me! But mom and I chatted with cousins, journaled, and cat napped. Or at least I cat napped. We're good traveling buddies, Mom and I.

Checked into the hotel in Bømlo now and have finished the "opening dinner" for the reunion. Asta, Aina, and Inta Tove (the cousins who organized the reunion) have done fantastic job taking care of us all (there are over 100 Thorsheim relatives here!). Mange takk! We played a fun get-to-know-you game after dinner (steak and salmon, for those keeping score at home): a scavenger hunt - which I managed to complete! Not bad for never having met more than 3/4 of these people before. It was called "Finn nokon som..." (find someone who...). Items included:
Someone:
- named Thorsheim (som heter Thorsheim)
- who loves herring (som elsker sild)
- who plays soccer (nokon som spelar fotball)
- who plays the saw (spelar på sag)
- who is in Bømlo for the first time (forste gang på Bømlo)
- who is in Norway for the first time (er forste gang i Norge)
- who can name more than 3 chief Anna and Ivar's children (kan navngi fleirae enn 3 av Anna & Ivar sine born)
- say hello to someone new! (snakk mi nokon nye!)
- who makes Kumle or Lefse (lager Kumle eller Lefse)
- who just bought a house (akkurat kjøpt hus)
- who is younger than 25 (yngre enn 25 år)
- who gets seasick (blir sjøsjuk)
- find a grandparent and grandchild (finn eit barnebarn & ein besteforelder)
- find an "Anna" (finn en Anna) [I helped a lot of people with this one]
- find the two oldest first cousins (finn dei 2 eldste søskenbarn)

What a great way to meet all the cousins!

Speaking of meeting new people, I got to meet cousin Linda today, who is also blogging about the reunion. Her blog is far more high tech than mine right now, she's able to post pictures on the go! (I'm jealous.) Linda and I are teaming up to share all the fun times that this reunion has to offer, so if you're up for some light reading, check out her blog, Reunion in Bergen.

A note on the title of this post: "slekta mi" is Norske for "my relatives" or "my family." This phrase is featured on our reunion t shirts and I thought it was also appropriate for these next few blog posts!

What a busy day. Tomorrow's plans include a tour of Moster (the oldest church in Norway), shopping, and dinner at Hiskholmen (an historic smokehouse), but for now, it's time to introduce Peter to television in a different language. Hello, Norwegian MTV.