religious experience

Visiting this country and doing all the touristy stuff, the first obvious thing is religion and the accumulation of them in such a small space and the puzzling mess going on here because of it. And it made me think back on my first religious experience, if so can be called.

I was raised in Norway, a country that used to take Christianity very, very seriously. Now they just take it seriously. Just to give you an idea; the previous prime minister there was a priest before he became a politician, and I wouldn't think of the “becoming” so much as “was and now is”, as they have a Christian political party where probably nuns, crusaders, missionaries and young Christian soldiers are grown and encouraged to infiltrate the governmental sphere with brotherly love and the ten commandments (all for the greater good and a ticket to heaven). Any outdoor jobs on Sundays used to be frowned upon and even straight out forbidden to use the communal washing machine in the basement of the various block of apartments. Today I think they've relaxed a bit (or everyone owns their own washing machine).

Don't get me wrong, there is nothing wrong with good Christian values. In revanche, I guess crime rate is lower as thou shall not steal (although I have no statistics to prove my point).

But it is particular.

They had, back then, something called the 6 years club, which you could join (you guessed right) when you are 6 years old. So when I turned six I felt the pressure of the social obligation that makes us want to be at the right place at the right time and asked my communistic, socialistic, feministic, freedom-of-religion-although-it-is-opium-for-the-masses-believing mother if I could join. She, not wanting to cramp my free spirit, signed me up.

It was a kind of a Sunday school thing, except it wasn't on a Sunday, but they talked about Jesus and how he was a friend of the children (which was a little confusing, because I had just been taught how to be suspicious of strange men who wants to befriend children) and there was a picture of him (which looked like one of my mom's boyfriends with the beard and the sandals, except for the white long dress). Any ways, it was still exciting as I had this new lunch box and I was happy hanging out with my girlfriends and listening to fishing stories and magic tricks.

Then there is a blur in the memory. Either because it is almost 25 years ago or that I got traumatized. I think that I got traumatized. I can't tell you exactly what happened, but surely it could have been something like my constant curiosity and capacity to argue must have rattled the bones of the desperate housewife that ran the show, because I remember the stank eye she gave me. Now, I could have been a very delusional child or a very sensitive child, but I only went that one time realizing that I didn't want to be friends with Jesus and definitely not with Mrs. Stank-Eye.