The agrarian metropole’s kleptomania culture
The agrarian metropole’s kleptomania culture
Posts related to parties in the Facebook group Fest-Telegrafen are becoming fewer and fewer. Jackets disappear at Samfunnet and AirPods are left in bathrooms all over campus. Some have even renamed the group Lost-Found Telegrafen. However, one post stands out and everyone now remembers the lasagna that basked in the spotlight in a previous article in Tuntreet. This was not just about seeking lost property at Samfunnet - the lasagna had been stolen. These days, there are more and more posts about theft. Why do Ås students steal? And, perhaps more importantly, what do they take?
Journalists: Ingvild Lauvstad Sunde and Marianne Skolbekken
Photographer: Tuva Hebnes
The curse of the associations
A lot adorns the walls of Lærken’s headquarter and Bohemen is filled to the brim with people as the evening wears on. Just a few weeks ago, Borghild Oterholt, one of Bohemen’s residents, had to turn to Fest-Telegrafen to report the latest theft - of laundry detergent. The elk head above the piano, the flag, and the fox pelt ‘Mikkel’ are all on the list of stolen items.
Borghild is almost impressed with the thefts. “We got the elk head back almost the same day. It was another association that had taken it. Then it’s just fun,” she explains. This is a joke between associations. “A tradition in Lærken is that stolen property should be returned in a fun way,” Borghild explains. She emphasizes that they are still students, just like everyone else. “Stealing alcohol and laundry detergent is shameful. When you take such things, you do it for your own sake,” she believes.
Mink in lost property at Samfunnet, and a wooden penis in Trondheim
Another collective that also had walls full of irreplaceable artifacts is IVARinn. Unfortunately, this is no longer the case due to theft. The IVARinns Signe Raftevold Rue, Anne-Guro Bekken, and Maren Helene Sævold are frustrated. “We are missing our welcome sign, a large wooden penis, and a pheasant,” Signe lists, pointing to a frame where the pheasant is clearly missing. “None of the things in IVARinn are random. They are gifts or have a story,” Anne-Guro explains.“In association houses, there are probably things that are a bit prestigious to have. People may think it’s okay to remove them from here because we have so much already,” Signe believes. “The wooden penis was stolen once before. We had it for less than a day before it was taken again,” she says.
After talking to other associations, they realized that the things were stolen by individuals and much (but not all) turns up randomly. “Our mink ended up in the lost property at Samfunnet, so someone had brought it there,” Signe sighs. “It’s very difficult to track down individuals who have taken something when we have no characteristics to go off of.” IVARinn’s residents believe that they may be more vulnerable than the association located at Pentagon. “Here we don’t have anyone close to us as the houses are further apart. If you leave, you easily disappear into the darkness,” says Anne-Guro.
The lost sixpence…
Another object with sentimental value that many may have heard has disappeared, is the ‘BEstifterlua’ of Mannskoret Over Rævne - the first, from 1993, and therefore the oldest sixpence in their possession. “The first few years it went around among the Rævne men,” says Ludvik, the choir’s leader.
During UKA 2022, Oktoberfest, BEde offers an open afterparty. After the party, the collective discovers that the BEstifterlua is gone. Ludvik explains that they tried to post a message on Fest-Telegrafen.“When there was no response, we tried to repost it with a reward - a crate of beer. Unfortunately, it didn’t help.” It didn’t get any better when the bust of Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson - on which the BEstifterlua sat - was stolen the weekend after the choir weekend.
“That sixpence means a lot to us, it’s almost sacred,” Ludvik is clearly frustrated with the situation. “I think people find it a bit ‘funny’ when they have something in their possession. They may see something that they think looks cool and not think much about the value that the object has for those who own it.” Ludvik also says that after the 30th anniversary and Rævnesjåvv, the choir has received several gifts from former members. “I’m a little unsure if we will dare to have it on display when people come over.” Ludvik also has one last request. “If you read this and realize that you have the BEstifterlua, you can anonymously deliver it to the Tuntreet office or the office wing at Samfunnet. We just want it back!”
Food for 1000 kroner, shoeless female students, and a whole coffee table
Silje, who is studying a master’s degree in Property and Land Law, tells how her shared flat fell victim to theft because someone mistakenly thought it was IVARinn. “On Sunday morning, I was going to make breakfast, just like the rest of the flatmates. In the kitchen, it was clear that someone had cooked food; there were frying pans with a lot of other things left out. When I opened the fridge, it was practically empty; all the pizza I made the day before, all the eggs, all the toppings were gone.” Silje later finds out that a group had broken into her shared flat while she was out, “in full belief that this was IVARinn. They had eaten, partied, and helped themselves. They could have at least cleaned up after themselves,” she adds. She believes this shows that association-shared flats are treated worse now than before.
Student associations are not the only victims of student theft in Ås. In 2019, Maren experienced her belongings being stolen by a shoeless student. “I came from a big pre-drink at Verket and was on my way home to my shared flat in Kringlabefore going to Samfunnet, when I met a shoeless female student alone,” she says. “I invited her to take a shot with me before Samfunnet.” At some point, the shoeless guest disappeared, and so did Maren’s bag with her phone, keys, and cards, along with her jacket and sweater.
Fast forward in the story, Maren is outside Samfunnet and hoping to meet the student. After a while, she spots the shoeless female student who was no longer shoeless. Maren says, “I got almost everything back without any conflict until I pointed out the shoes she was wearing. ‘I also need the shoes,’ I said firmly. She refused, and after an endless discussion, I took matters into my own hands and took off her shoes myself. With the missing items in my hands, I went into the entrance of Aud.Max. and started the party at Samfunnet.” Tuntreet has also heard stories about an entire coffee table, a poster of a fly agaric, and several jars of Nutella being stolen. In a laundry room at Pentagon, there is also a note with the message “beware, someone’s stealing underwear!”
“A museum cannot hide Mona Lisa just because there is a risk of it being stolen.”
Ludvik, the manager in Rævne, hopes that awareness can be a part of the solution to kleptomania tendencies. “I believe it would help,” he says and continues, “it’s a shame that we have to hide gifts and decorations on party nights when they should be displayed with splendour.”
The Ivarinns also find themselves forced to hide things. “We are not known for having much treasure, but when we open our doors, it’s full of people!” Anne-Guro smiles. “But as it is now, we cannot open our doors anymore,” Signe interjects. “It’s like a museum. A museum cannot hide Mona Lisa just because there is a risk of it being stolen.” The Ivarinns also make a strong appeal. “Take an extra look in your collective. If you have something in your collective that is overly decorated with glitter and flowers, or it says ‘To Pikekoret IVAR in honor of...’ on it, we would like to have it back. It doesn’t matter if you have a hangover or find it embarrassing, we’ll just be grateful.”
