We settled in a hostel. Each family had a room. Kitchen and dining room were shared. This hostel belongs to some rich Norwegian who periodically flies into the village by helicopter from Norway to hunt and fish.
The next day all the relatives gathered in the dining room to remember the kin. My husband Ivan presented a report of the Family Tree of the large Swedish family, and also an amateur film about Grandmother and Grandfather was shown. I confess honestly, it was hard for me to sort out all the relatives, and also in Swedish, but the bright image of Grandmother and Grandfather remained in my heart forever!
Then there was an excursion around the local places. My husband showed me the place where he came into the world. And he said that on this place stood the house where he was born. I asked again: “A medical point?” And he: “no, an ordinary house.” And I then thought: “and Mama gave birth to me in a maternity hospital!” We also visited the lake where Grandfather fished. An enormous lake. We met not a single person. Only a sign: Do not put up tents and cars! There is a camping 5 kilometres from the village. And also a café where they ordered a banquet.
We stayed three days. For me that was quite enough. Back we already drove without overnight stops. I confess honestly I have never felt a thirst for travel. So in three days I managed to miss “my” Norwegian village.
And quite recently someone of the Swedish relatives told Ivan that Norwegian filmmakers had shot a feature film “Welcome to Norway!” About refugees. And how surprised we were to see in this film the native village of Onn (Ånd) and the hostel in which we lived, and according to the plot of the film refugees were placed. If someone among those reading manages to watch this film on YouTube or at least excerpts from the film, then I think you will have some idea of a Swedish village.
To be continued…