The first is what Norwegians call a “Spark”. It’s essentially a push cart on metal runners used to toodle back and forth from the grocery store. Anders said the conditions in Oslo haven’t been good enough to use the spark for years. Outside of Oslo, in the colder regions of Norway, you’ll find people still using it to get around. Again, keep in mind that this considered to be old-fashioned, but you’re not a total dweeb should you dare to use it. (Maybe a 50/50 split, 60/40, tops).
(Side note: Spark means “kick” in Norwegian, which is how you propel the damn thing. This is just one of many annoying examples of when I ask for the name of something in Norwegian and I get a description in return. Other examples include Spatula = slikkepott = pot licker (I’m not making this up) or Vacuum cleaner = støvsuger = dust sucker. My personal favorite is cervix = livmorhals = life-mother-throat, whereas uterus is of course livmor = life-mother (I’m not, I repeat, NOT making this up, but I digress.))The other socially unacceptable alternative for these conditions are “brodder” or strap-on cleats. I mean, this is totally logical, right? These cleats give unequaled traction for walking up, but more importantly, down steep sloped streets covered in ice. Anders has warned me that only old ladies used these things, when he wasn’t ridiculing me to death. What he failed to mention was the perception of people that use the cleats goes deeper than that: It is people who have nothing to contribute to the society who wear them, as if wearing cleats publicly declares that the wearer evades paying taxes. The withering looks I get while drinking my morning cup of joe from a travel mug are nothing in comparison to the horrified stares people give me for wearing the cleats. (horrified, jeering, you get the point). According to Norwegians, falling on your ass is nobler than putting on these sensible cleats.
I vividly remember the day I made way safely down the ice-covered hill to the nearest subway station, since above ground traffic was at a standstill due to the weather conditions. At the bottom of the hill, a young ‘Weegie and her mom were making their way along the sidewalk when she asked, “Why that woman was wearing cleats? It’s not that slippery out today…”
I’m sure any of you readers from upstate NY or Maine would sympathize with the ‘Weegie here, but I’m from a sub-tropical climate, yo. If I don’t wear the cleats, I look like an 80 year-old woman who’s afraid to break her hip and if I do wear the cleats I’m openly mocked. This is a true lose-lose situation, folks.
