From Job to Job around the World

by Alfred C. B. Fletcher

The company bought a house on the hill and we three Americans moved out of the hotel into a home of our own. Norwegian houses are often arranged in a most inconvenient manner. The second floor seldom contains a hallway, and in order to go from one bed room to another, it is necessary to pass through the private apartment of another member of the household. Very frequently the maid's room is situated in one end of the house, and in order to reach her bed-chamber she has to walk through all the bedrooms. Between all rooms there is a sort of sill about two inches high running the width of the opening upon which the door swings. One would think that the occupants of such houses would become accustomed to these obstructions and learn to step over them. But this is not the case, for Norwegians are continually falling over the sills. On one occasion an officer in the Norwegian army, who had just completed a call on us, was making his ceremonious and prolonged farewell. With each deep bow he would step back towards the door. He receded until he toppled over backwards on one of these senseless sills. The poor chap gathered himself together and left without saying a word. He was the most embarrassed man I ever saw.

Our house was destitute of furniture, and, as there was not much of a line of this commodity in town, we spent many evenings as carpenters and painters, making tables, beds and chairs with lumber we purchased from a local merchant. Now that we were in our own home we re-arranged our mode of living by changing our hours of eating and sleeping. We adopted a menu which conformed more nearly to what Americans usually eat. We also did a little entertaining. We decorated the walls of our house with pictures we cut from the covers of American magazines and hung up curtains which we imported from England.

The most elaborate social function I had the pleasure of attending was a house dance given at the home of one of the doctors of the town. My two American friends and I arrived at the party at about nine o'clock. The other guests were all present. As we entered the host and hostess were introducing each one in turn to the others who were lined up in a row at one end of the room. It is the custom to address a man by prefixing his vocation to his name, and this manner of designating each one was used during the introductions. Engineer Hansen, Coppersmith Johnsen and Fisherman Olsen were all introduced in this way. The three Americans were simply addressed as "Mister."

It was remarkable to notice the number of people who could speak good English in Tromso. A few of them had acquired their knowledge by visits to England, but the majority had learned the language in the schools of the town. I met one woman who had never been south of the Arctic Circle who spoke English almost perfectly. There were a number at the doctor's dance who spoke the language fluently.

After every one was thoroughly introduced, folding doors were opened, and on tables in the adjoining room stood the most sumptuous supper any man ever saw. The food was served in buffet fashion, and each one was requested to help himself to the endless variety of eatables spread before us. Chicken, fish, sandwiches, salads, cakes and fruits were piled on this table in such abundance that it looked like the assemblage of a dozen Christmas dinners. Liquid cheer was so plentiful that one almost believed all the booze in town was concentrated in this one room. Every conceivable form of liquor was on exhibition, and it would be a most fastidious drinker who could not find something to suit his taste. Beer, several kinds of wine, punch, whiskey and even gin were arrayed before us like the choice liquors in a millionaire brewer's cellar.

The sight of this bountiful feast nearly paralysed me. I at first thought it was a dream, and it took several minutes before I was aware that it was real food and drink. To come up from the steerage to such a grand meal as this was nothing short of a miracle. I dived in and—with the rest of the guests—ate heartily.

The Norwegians confine themselves to square dances, somewhat similar to the Lancers, and to the waltz. This last dance is very much like the American step, with much more of a hop to it and a larger interval between the man and his partner. I insisted on teaching several of the women to two-step. They were very pleased with it, but had difficulty in becoming accustomed to such proximity to their partner. One woman became very fond of this near feature, but insisted on my resuming a distant position as we passed her husband, who was seated at one end of the room. Those who didn't care to dance played cards and smoked. The dainty way in which the women handled their cigarettes killed any prejudice I had nourished about the feminine use of tobacco.

One meal during an evening is evidently not considered sufficient in Norway, for at four in the morning the same folding doors were opened and another array of refreshments lay spread before us. The second assortment was by no means the scraps of the previous meal. It was an entirely new lot of a different variety, and consisted of pudding, cake and coffee. All the participants had danced so diligently that they had acquired new appetites, and the food was all consumed as though it were the only lot of refreshments served at the party. This second feast was the customary conclusion of Tromso social functions. Farewells followed, and the guests departed. We Americans arrived home at six o'clock, changed our clothes, concluded that it was useless to go to bed and went directly to the office for the day's work. The dancing party was a great success, and I could easily have imagined it a New York affair instead of an Arctic Zone function.

It was now only a couple of weeks before the company's boat, Munroe, was scheduled to make its initial trip to the mine on Spitzbergen. The office staff had an immense amount of work to dispose of in this time. Men from all parts of Norway were slowly drifting into Tromso to sign contracts for summer employment. Supplies were being rushed in. A new propeller shaft for the Munroe was en route from England. Cabin fixtures were being installed and many matters were being adjusted to comply with the maritime regulations of the Norwegian government before the ship would be permitted to leave port.

The last week several American engineers and their wives began to arrive. Turner had made arrangements for these experienced men, and they had signed contracts with the company for a period of two years. A score of English miners, who had been engaged through a British labour bureau, also arrived.