Perhaps Bodø isn’t a slave to the Internet. Luckily for us. Saturday afternoon we took a stroll around the neighborhood and discovered that although the Nordlandsmuseet’s website said they’d be closed, they were open and would stay open late.

I had wanted to see this small museum which hosts exhibits on life in the area from the Vikings in 900 AD to the Sami people to World War II. And shows life in the sea with a dry aquarium in the basement.

Our visit was on a date (May 9) of no importance to us Americans, but it turned out to be an important day for Bodø. May 9 was the day in 1945 that the Russian prison camp here was freed, and May 8 was when the Russians entered from the north and liberated Bodø itself.

1000 Russian soldiers died in the World War II labor camp which the Germans built in Bodø. During the war Germans sent captured Russians to Bodø from all over Europe. Their slave labor built the Bodø airport where our plane landed on Friday. Russian slave labor was used for an even more horrific job: building railroad tracks through the mountains from Fauske to Mo i Rana. Like all German labor camps they starved and overworked their prisoners. Now that I’ve felt the icy Bodø winds, I’m guessing the Germans also also weren’t concerned about providing adequate warmth for the Russians.

In honor of Bodø’s liberation day, May 8, 1945, the Nordlandsmuseet in Bodø had a special exhibit about the city’s experiences in World War II. It was grim.

Bodø began the war when the Germans firebombed their city on May 27, 1940. Most of the city burned to the ground with nothing but the shells of several stone buildings left standing. The museum has photos and dioramas illustrating the destruction. Soon after, the Germans invaded with an occupation force — riding bicycles. No tanks. No trucks. They invaded on bikes!

The Germans occupied the city and built a large military fort on the water front. Hitler was mistakenly convinced that Norway would be strategically important in that the Russians and maybe other Allies would attempt to infiltrate German occupied land through Norway. He also believed that Norwegians supported his goals. He was wrong on both stands. But, because of his errors he dedicated half a million German soldiers to dozens of defensive bases he built around the perimeter of Norway.

The Norwegian military still has a base in Bodø:
http://nyti.ms/1FhV9Oy
Not being able to read the exhibit signs, I learned these stories from the museum docent who kept popping into the exhibition rooms to talk to us in between selling tickets at the front desk and from a Norwegian woman, Ronda (spelling is likely incorrect), who was visiting the museum.

After seeing the photos of arrested Norwegian spies, Bodø’s destruction in the 1940 firebombing, and the German occupying force bicycling into town, my mom and I separated to explore on our own. We planned to meet up at the film (with English subtitles) showing in half an hour on the second floor.

As I wandered through the museum, Ronda and I kept running into each other, and she would share interesting facts from the placards which I could only guess about.

The small museum has exhibits showing fishing nets from long ago, local birds like puffins, a 1.2 kilo silver cloak pin from about 900 AD, and a traditional Sami house which looks like a domed igloo made of poles covered in peat or sod. The Sami house had a small opening that looked like a cat door next to the door for people. I’m guessing they didn’t have house cats or small dogs in the arctic, so the little door is still a mystery.

When it was a couple minutes before the film was to begin I headed for the second floor, but found the theater was near the end of a long twisting hallway. When I found the theater a large red light seemed to be saying “don’t enter – film in progress”. I don’t really know what the words said, but it seemed I shouldn’t enter. I figured my mom would enjoy the film and I’d hang around and see her when the door opened.

A half hour later I had spent more time than I wanted repeatedly cycling through the windows with displays of handmade wooden toys from the late 19th and early 20th centuries, porcelain dolls from the 18th century, optician equipment, and medical tools. Finally, the Green light came on and I knew the film was over. No one came out so I went in to see whether my mother needed any assistance. The room was EMPTY!

Where could my mother have gone? As I rushed methodically through the 2 1/2 story building with its winding paths through display spaces, I became increasingly concerned about where my mother had gone. She’s pretty independent. Would she take a stroll to explore outside? On the main floor I checked to see that her Walker was still parked in a corner — good! She didn’t go outside without me. It was a slow climb for her to reach the tall second floor, but I had looked through all the exhibits up there, so I checked the basement too. Not there! I returned to the second floor and peeked into the Russian celebration. They were showing a film (no subtitles) in which an elderly gentleman told stories about what he witnessed going on in the Russian labor camp next to his home. And there across the crowded room was my mom attentively watching the film in Norwegian.

The room was so packed even the narrow aisles were inaccessible so I caught her attention to let her know where I was, and I stood in the back next to Ronda. A Russian woman behind me was serving Russian food, and she offered me a plate. I stood enjoying the delicious food, watching the film of the man speaking in Norwegian. Mom later told me that she went in to see the film as we had planned, but didn’t realize this was a different one than we’d been told about.

The Russian food was what Russians ate in Bodø before and after the war: polenta with raisins, a dish made from a root vegetable and meat, corn bread, and a ground beef pastry. The food was delicious! I tried to learn what the root vegetable dish was made of, but the communication barrier was impenetrable. It reminded me of cooked barley but with a soft smokey flavor. The dish was delicious. When no one could think of the vegetable’s name in English, a woman said that the dish is what they often fill blinis with. When I return to Seattle, I will look for a similar recipe.

After the film I got a plate of food for my mom and we listened to everyone sing Russian songs accompanied by an accordion and guitar.

As we sat enjoying the celebration a brave Russian woman came over and boldly asked with a smile on her face why the Americans were there. Spies? We said we were tourists, and we all laughed together. Before we left one of the Russian organizers gave me a ribbon like all the Russians were wearing to commemorate the liberation. Their website is www.9may.ru.

Meeting people, hearing their stories, looking through a new window into the world — what could be better than this?