PM's New Year's speech

Dear landsmenn.

Thank you for a great year. 2007 will come across in history as one of the more memorable years and many things have happenend. The year started as usual in January with little snow on the trees, little sun in the sky and lousy skiing conditions. Nevertheless, it picked up, and by February Hemsedal could show off some of the best slopes on records. Yours truly of course tumbled down all of them. In March it was time for great travels, Central America was crossed once again, volcanos climbed and new heights reached. New lows as well, but that's a different story. 2007 has been a year of visits from Down Under. I have twice had the pleasure of having Aussies to entertain and 17th of May displayed Norwegian nationalism - and weather - at its best.

The summer of 2007 will probably be remembered like any other Norwegian summer - crap. A total of three days of nice sunny weather (and I worked all of them), but had a few nice weekends on Sørlandet. It's not a real summer without Sørlandet. August came along with more work, more work and more study. The autumn went too quickly and was too stressful, but then only justified a relaxation-reloading trip to Warsaw, which was absolutely fantastic. Christmas came and went and it's once again time for my favourite partynight of the year - NEW YEAR'S EVE!

The rest of the world has had it's moments too. Climate has never been so much in the wind as now, something which resulted in Al Gore getting the Nobel's Peace Price and John Howard finally (about bloody time) getting fired. Australia will finally (about bloody time) ratify the Kyoto Protocol and the Poles might only melt a little, not a lot if we get our acts together today (preferably yesterday). It is never a win-win situation, and someone will always loose. Lucky Norwegians though, it's usually never them, despite our first and hopefully only casualty in Afghanistan. Pakistan is on the verge of civil chaos after Bhuttos assasination, there are riots in Kenya and corruption (old news) in Russia.

2007 will be remembered as one of the best yet most frustrating years in history, but what doesn't kill you only makes you stronger, so 2008 - bring it on! Whether your resolutions for the upcoming year is saving the world, acing your exams or joining the mile high club I wish you a wonderful, amazing, good, eventful and happy new year!

Yours truly,
PM

All I want for Christmas is a superhot date??

Another Christmas is over, I'm sitting in my bed listening to the sleepy breath of the people around me. Christmas Day morning is soon to take off with more food, more gifts (it's Cristina's 22nd birthday) and I'm enjoying a few moments of peace and quiet. I have had two friends from Australia staying with me this Christmas which has made it very fun and international and they've been introduced to the lovely Norwegian customs of dancing around the Christmas three, gingerbread cookies and porridge. 

I won't ask for much this Christmas

I won't even wish for snow

I'm just gonna keep on waiting

Underneath the mistletoe

One of the things that stresses people most in the lead up to Christmas is, surprisingly not, exams, but the everlasting hustle and bustle of getting presents. Some present you realize are just perfect for the receiver, others not so. One of the present I got was a book from my brother, SuperHot Date. He said he'd picked up a few good tips himself and could highly recommend it if I ever needed a date. I gave him Ingrid Espelid Hovig's infamous cookbook in return and said I'd picked up a few god tips myself and I also recommended it if he ever needed a date (homecooking impresses the chicks, mate!). It matched perfectly with the ovenmittons he got from my grandma. 

I won't make a list and send it

to the North Pole for Saint Nick

I won't even stay awake to 

hear those magic reindeer click

But presents are by far from the most important aspects of Christmas. It's being with friends and family, laughing and learning new things like the "green glass room". A spoon gets into the green glass room, but not a fork, a tree can, but there are no bushes. Boobs are allowed to enter but no breasts. Cristina and me finally figured out the rule to Nicole and Tarryn's great amusement. We also went to my mum's work yesterday, a usual Christmas tradition and the speaker there told a Christmas tale, and how Christmas was not all about having lots, or getting lots or buying lots, but about the true Christmas spirit of being together. 

'Cause I just want you here tonight

holding on to me so tight

what more can i do?

My sister's ex gave me a blackboard last Christmas and I have been annoying/entertaining my flatmates with random notes on it (it sits in the kitchen), and although the notes at times have been victims of vandalism, the message (and at Christmas you tell the truth) the last week has been left untouched: 

All I want for Christmas is you

Lost causes

• You know it is too late to ace an exam if it's three days before and you haven't opened the book.
• You know it is too late to withdraw if you've already been assigned a candidate number.
• You know it is too late to get a six pack before the Christmas Party when you are standing ten days before, in your chosen dress eating ice cream out of the tub.
• You know it is too late to believe in miracles, and you haven't had a six pack since you were 16.
• You know it is too late to get a tan when the summer in Norway lasted three days.
• You know it is too late to get a tan when you worked those three days.
• You know it is too late to send parcels to Australia, when the postage takes six weeks and it's only five til Christmas.
• You know it is too late to become annoyed at friends for doing stupid things, when they've already said sorry.
• You know it is too late to arrive at the airport twenty minutes before departure. And no, Trude, that won't get you a business class seat, you won't get on the plane.
• You know it is too late to organize New Year's Eve plans on December 30th. You know you'll probably still try.
• You know it is too late to worry about things that have happened.

Nevertheless:

• You know you have time on the weekend to open the book.
• You know you passed the first exam so it can't be that bad (well it can...)
• You know no-one will notice your lack of abdominals because they will be too busy looking at your legs.
• You know fake tan works.
• You know the parcel from Australia won't get here til after Christmas either.
• You know your friends don't do stupid things. That's why they are your friends.
• You know there's always another flight.
• You know you don't care about NYE as long as it's spent with someone you care about.
• You know it's allowed to be annoyed about the past. But don't forget to look forward. After all, that's where you'll be living tomorrow.

"India er det eneste demokrati"

38:43:45

The White Man's Burden

Så løft en hvit manns byrde

send ut den beste sønn

Han tjener andre raser

for en landflyktigs lønn

hos rådvilt folk og ville

å ta den tunge tørn

en tverr og kuet stamme

halvt djevler og halvt børn

Rudyard Kipling 1898

I've spent the last five days in Denmark having infomeetings for Kulturstudier and visiting my sister in Århus. Great fun, despite Cristina having to read for her exam which she has in December. Good, I thought, it would give me a chance to read for mine. Which is on Friday. You're in trouble, missy. I don't deny it.

38:16:12

So, to combine exam studying with blogging I hereby desire to give you an introduction to social anthropology, today more known as SOSANT1100 - Regional Etnografi: Jordens folk og kulturelt mangfold. I hope you are ready for this (the rest will be in Norwegian):

Jeg bør begynne med det enkleste og forklare hva sosialantropologi er (blafre, blafre, lete febrilsk i boka): sosialantropologi er et fag innen samfunnsvitenskapen som studerer de sosiale og kulturelle sidene ved menneskelige samfunn. Samfunn, kultur og symboler er sentrale begreper, og en viktig del av sosialantropologi er deltagende observasjon, dvs feltarbeid der sosialantropologen tar del i hverdagslivet til samfunnene hun prøver å forstå.

Den moderne antropologien oppstod i midten av det 19. århundre, da det samtidig med Storbritannia, Nederland, Frankrike, Spania, Italia, Belgia, Tyskland og Portugals ønske om verdensherredømme ble populært og interessant med detaljerte beskrivelser av den innfødte befolkningen i de nye koloniene. Litt på samme måte som man studerte flora og fauna. I USA var situasjonen en annen siden de der ønsket å beskrive restene av den indianerkulturen de bare tiår tidligere var i ferd med å ødelegge.

Så, til noen hovedpunkter:
-Kulturrelativisme: Franz Boas teori går ut på at kulturer og samfunn bare kan forstås ut fra sin egen logikk. Det innebærer da også evnen til å se andre folks tro og skikker i deres kulturelle sammenheng istedenfor ens egen.
- Bronislaw Malinowski (1884-1942): regnes som den som innførte feltarbeid i antropologien. Han mente at for å forstå den indre sammenhengen mellom ulike deler av samfunn måtte man lære seg det lokale språket og observere hvordan folk levde over lengre tid. Hans tilnærming ble senere kalt funksjonalistisk, som betyr at et aspekt ved samfunnet må ses i sammenheng med den funksjon det har i samspill med andre sider av samfunnet (oj, oj, nå lærer dere mye!!). Han hadde feltarbeid på Trobianderøyene i Melanesia og spilte en nøkkelrolle i fagets utvikling på 1800-tallet.
- Fredrik Barth: norsk sosialantropolog, jeg vil også nevne Kulturstudiers gründere; Rune Tjelland og Henrik Heggemsnes.
- Etnografi: selve essensen i SOSANT1100 - måten å beskrive og sammenligne verdens ulike kulturer og samfunnstyper på, ofte gjennom bruk av feltstudier.
- Naturlig utvelgelse: signert Charles Darwin. Han hadde en teori om at naturlig utvelgelse ikke bare gjaldt menneskene selv, men også samfunn var produkter av evolusjon - det vil si utvikling fra tidligere former.
- Grunnleggende biologiske behov: mat, vann, ly, søvn og sex (enkelt og greit). Ligger bak en del av atferden vår. Tillært atferd, i klar motsetning til instinkt, tjener biologiske formål på grunn av de praktiske fordelene den har.
- Patrilineær avstamning: avstamning gjennom farslinjen. Kan også være matrilineær, gjennom morslinjen.

37:57:30

Helt til slutt bare litt om Australia som sosialantropologisk destinasjon: Australia ble kolonisert for minst 50 000 år siden av fullt moderne mennesker. Den lokale urbefolkningen, også kalt aboriginere, drev lenge med selvforsyningsjordbruk, og det var ikke på grunn av mangel på jordbrukskunnskaper at de i hovedsak ble sett på som jegere og sankere, og dermed fanget intens interesse blant sosialantropologer i det 19. århundre. Aboriginerne ble først sett på som "den edle villmann", men dette synet var kortlivet og ble raskt erstattet med stereotypen om en underordnet og usivilisert rase. Slektskap er utvilsomt en viktig dimensjon ved aboriginernes samfunn, både i ideologisk forstand og som en side ved sosial organisasjon. Idag er de innvevd i den australske økonomien, men de lider i høyere grad av arbeidsløsthet og fengsling enn resten av Australia. Aboriginerne ble en gang sett på som levende eksempler på den menneskelige fortid. Det er langt fra den holistiske ambisjon om et jeger- og sankersamfunn uten tilknytning til omverdenen, eller særlig Europa, til dagens tiggere i Redfern, uteliggere på George Street og sosialklienter i Parramatta. Well done captain Cook.

37:51:08 timer til eksamen.

Merseyside Red vs London FC

"I'm sorry, but to avoid the ultimate embarrassment for me and you, an unknown number of broken bones, knocked-out teeth, bad tackles, missed goals, cat fights, blisters and sore feet, I refuse to play soccer with you and your friends. I think it is for the best for both of us."

That was pretty much my response last time I got invited to play soccer, and there was no sign of protest against my reply. Fair enough. Soccer is just not my thing.

Well, that is not exactly right. I love soccer, there's nothing better than a good game between bitter rivals, and due to my multiple nationality disorder usually one of my "countries" always have a fair chance of winning (often whilst beating another one of "my" teams).

Then there is of course the last name who will light lightbulbs in the heads of old school soccer fans. Rossi - Rossi - Rrrrrooosssi - AHA - that was that Italian player back in 1982, right? Pretty boy, right? Got into a bit of trouble with some mixing and trixing hey? But totally innocent, went on to become top scorer in the championship that year, right?

Mmmhhmm. I nod. That would be him. I googled Paolo Rossi for the first time today and actually learned that he is a year younger than my father. He became a star in the 1982 World Cup, top scorer and ranked best player both in the championship and in Europe that same year. He later played for Juventus, AC Milan and Hellas Verona before finishing up in 1987. And by then he had united Italy as a soccer nation and made my dad very proud.

Soccer is the most popular sport in the world, so if you are not into it - too bad.

As you can see on the map, Europe is heavily engaged in the sport (the darker colours, the more players per 1000 people), along with a few isolated states in Africa (Mali, Zambia and Eritrea), Mexico, Chile, Equador, Uruguay and Paraguay. And Japan. Soccer can make or break communities. The feeling of comradeship is never so great as when your country has won an important match and there are never so many grumpy men going around as when Liverpool looses important matches to insignificant opponents (although it might be questionable to call Chelsea insignificant, nevermind).

Soccer connects, bonds and bring people together, totally disregarding age, sex, religious and political beliefs. It honours bravery, teamwork, creativity, survival and fortitude. That's a lot more than you can say of the UN. In times like these when villages are blown off the map in Burma, global warming is a more eminent threat than ever (daah), and there's only seven years to complete the Millenium Goals we need something to unite us all. So three times Hoooray for soccer. And Arne Sandstø. And Paolo Rossi.

Hooray, hooray, hooray!

All good

You gotta be happy with that. Time for a new adventure soon. Yiihaaa!!

Sing...ehhh...star?

After another eventful party with a close friend and some of her friends I've realized there's a few things that makes a good party a good party. There's the obvious - friends and foes who can entertain you with their interesting stories about their work-, school- or love-life, and booze. And then there's the little extra, the oomf, the oh-la-la that makes everyone remember it as a great party instead of just the normal start to a bad hangover. Games. I'll fill you in.

Sing-star:
What: it's karaoke in your own livingroom. Why embarass yourself in front of the whole pub when you can keep it to the friends and family who will remind you of your tone-deafness tomorrow. You get a mic and the song text in front of you along with moving dots that are supposed to tell you how high or low tone you should sing. Or try to sing. Or wish you were even remotely close to sing. At the moment the DVD with 80s hits is most popular, so you can just imagine all the people humming Eye-of-the-tiger in the loo-queue.
My rating: 1/10. That might even be an overrating. I suck at this, but good fun and of course a chance to shake that booty to George Michael without being embarrased.
Viewers' rating: 6/10. If there's some real singstars in the group this is good entertainment for a while, but when the fame (or the wine) has gone to their heads it usually turns out to be a drunken karaoke-brawl where you end up wishing you were at a nightclub, because you could then keep going to the next.

Guitar Hero:
What: similar to Sing-star only here you have a toy guitar to jam away on. You see notes on the TV and are supposed to hit them at the same time as the real thing. Lots of rocksongs and if there's a secret Mick Jagger inside he sure can come out to play.
My rating: 5/10. I'm not very musical, but with a bit of practise I'll beat other semi-good people in a guitar-duel. And it's good fun.
Viewers' rating: 5/10. As with Sing-star, if there's some good people around it's fun for a while, but usually the good people have their very own favourite song they're so good at so it's played over and over and over again...

Poker:
What: self explanatory. Royal flush is best. Or was it house of kings and aces? Or a pair in threes? Never mind, poker is poker and there's the bonus of money being involved.
My rating: 8/10. I'm a beginner, but this is fun.
Viewers' rating: 8/10, assuming you're playing too. Losing all your cash and having to watch your friends get rich isn't that fun, but as long as you're in it's entertainment on a high level.

Buzz:
What: New-found game. Definitively more fun than Jeopardy and has room for several players, interactive quizz-game with lots of different types of means to earn points. How about cake-throwing your opponents out of the game?
My rating: 10/10. Due to a questionable fairly good memory and decent geography skills I rock this game - especially any questions regarding Australia. I challenge you!
Viewers' rating: 9/10. You can be on teams, play against each other and there's questions in all genres, so definitively something for everyone.

Monopoly:
What: buy all the houses you can't afford in real life. I'd normally settle for a one-bedroom flat at Sagene, but here it's not good until I have a hotel on Rådhusplassen.
My rating: 7/10. If you're on a buying streak and end up with some good shares it makes you king of the world.
Viewers' rating: 3/10. It takes a while and if you're not in you will be bored.

Twister:
What: coloured dots and the right limb on the right dot will get you points (or close contact to someone you're trying to pick up).
My rating: 4/10. I was never that bendable.
Viewers' rating: 5/10. Arguable. If the participants are naked it could be more interesting.

Drinking game (with playing cards):
What: different ones to chose from, the one most normal is where every card has a meaning (i.e. 8 - sing a song, jack - you may go to the toilet, 3 - everyone else drinks).
My rating: 6/10. Normally drags on and I never seem to be able to get drunk. And there's way too little kissing involved.
Viewers' rating: 8/10. To watch others get drunk while performing ridiculous tasks could be quite entertaining.

So, while I go to bed while trying to get Marianne's version of Sean Kingston's Beautiful Girl out of my head (or I will never get to sleep) I wish you a very happy Saturday night/Sunday morning.

Cheers!

Da tar vi den rosa sangen dere, den rosa sangen

I walked in to the classroom and sat down at the first free seat. The Slovaki girl next to me had been in Norway for less than two weeks and didn't understand the lecturer's jokes about Norwegian timidness or introvertness. This is because he was speaking in Norwegian, so, naturally, the 15 or so foreign students understood nada.

I tried to remember five years back, to my first day at University of Western Sydney, a chilly August day in 2002. It looked like a crowded and worn-down mental institutions (felt like one too) in the Western Sydney outback, 20 minutes to the nearest train station and you had to walk past low-income housing estates the university warned about strolling through at nighttime. There was a juvenile detention centre close by, and adolescent rapists often went missing from their lock-up. This morning I woke up with a slight hangover, it was 35 minutes to the introduction seminar and I was half an hour bumpy train ride away. Swedish Louise came to my rescure and did the M4 from Parramatta to Penrith in a remarkable 25 minutes. I ran into the lecture hall and sat down in the first free seat. My university career had begun.

After a pretty decent journalism degree I've now begun my first shot at Norwegian education (which is free!!) and joined classes in Nord/Sør Utvikling, Samfunnsgeografi and Sosialantropologi. Trude, who takes 50 studiepoeng in law in addition to work at UD reckons it will be a piece of cake, Stian thought I was an idiot. That was of course only til he realized I would get student discount on Flytoget, freeze the interest on my current mortgage and get cheap beer on uni nights. Then he was impressed, and a little jealous. I wasn't (and am not) really aware of what I'm trying to accomplish this semester, but was told that of universities in Norway, Denmark, Germany and Australia, Australia definitively came out on top as the hardest, toughest and most nazi. I can only hope as I am about to embark on fulltime studies - and fulltime work.

But back to the lecture last week. After the half-arsed introduction in Norwegian followed by an excuse in English and promises of all future lectures beeing in a global understandable language the lecturer started off: "Allright, I will now address some issues in the green book. The green book, guys." I nearly fell of my chair. This was an advanced Human Geography course and the lecturer referred to the academic text we were to read as "the green book." What happened to Potter's Geographies of Development? He kept going in poor English with a heavy Norwegian acccent and reminded everyone several times that a billion is a "milliard" in Norwegian and that there is no such word as "billion" in Norwegian, despite Donald Duck trying to introduce the term through years of comics. "Billiard" is neither a word, no matter how logic it sounds. He also added the fact that if we wanted to we could exclude China from the statistics and that the numbers most likely would become a lot more in our favour if we did.

Exclude the largest nation in the world? Subtract some billion (millard that is in Norwegian) people from the formulas because it makes the stats look more favourable. I know what I will be discussing in the exam. And somehow I am am not so worried, but rather looking forward to the upcoming semester.

And it's not only because of the cheap beer.

King, queen, matching knickers and a fresh start

"You need matching underwear!" Ivy looks at me with a terrified expression in her eyes and true disgust towards my non-similar undies. I look down. Gray cotton panties and a turqoise satin bra does not do the trick and will never solve any of my boy problems, she says. I laugh it off and wonder what would have happened if I wore a gray cotton bra too and she says then I'd probably get lucky tonight. And she adds, if I swap the cotton full stop and go satin all the way I might meet the man of my dreams. I can smile all I want, but she's deadly serious. I've underestimated girl-power, naïve rødstrømpe, notoriously singel. I won't tell you if I got changed.

That's two years ago and Ivy's obsession for similar underwear have resulted in Max and Henrik, (three-month old twins), a Melbourne fiancé and a permanent resident visa to Australia.

The stuff I've learned from my flatmates is unbelievable. I know there has been a previous post about this common phenomenon, but I can't stop thinking about the coincidences that makes strangers drop everything in their hands and suddenly want to live together. How much you can annoy people before they want to bite your head off. How many late nights and early mornings before they tell you to shut up. How much ice cream you can stuff in the freezer before they say stop.

After a year in the same place something tells me to move on, find a new home with a new bathroom to get dressed in, a new kitchen to burn food in, a new tv to watch soapies on and a new key. I've never lived more than one year in any previous flat, but to change routines is good, so there's a new era coming up with, I hope, potential and possibilities.

Maybe I finally should get them photos up on the wall?

But the best thing about roomies must be the priviledge of being a part of their world and share their thoughts and opinions. Kent William recently read up on Congo Zaïre and Congo Brazzaville and eagerly told me the differences. Stina tought me how to make the best kladdkaka (she was Swedish), and Trude told me a lot about laundry (yet never that whites should only be washed with whites). And Ivy of course with her rules and fanatic thoughts about underwear.

I look in the mirror. The black and floral bra I'm wearing is looking suspiciously similar to my underpants. Me and the boyfriend just clocked six months. I must be doing something right.

Idyll

I've just spent a weekend at Skral festival in Grimstad, the cute little town I ditched on New Years Eve, but which is so much more fantastic in summertime. Lots of good bands were playing and despite my favourite band not playing my favourite song, the weekend can only be described by the words from a certain summer hit from a few years back:

Det var solnedgang

det var latter det var sang

det var sommerfri

det var sjø og magi

Det var deg og det var meg

det var minner som aldri vil dø

det var evighet

og en sol som farga himmelen rød

Det var øl

berusende ord

det var sommer det var sol

det var hjerter i brann

blikkstille vann alt på denne jord

Og det var kjærlighet

ja det var kjærlighet

og minner som aldri vil dø

en sol som farga himmelen rød - Idyll

Sommer'n var på hell

dette var siste kveld

vi lå på rygg jeg følte meg trygg

men frøs litt likevel

Vi lå og så på stjernene

og hørte på sangen fra ternene

vi visste begge hvor det bar

og at vi aldri skulle glemme hvordan det var

Det var øl

berusende ord

det var sommer det var sol

det var hjerter i brann

blikkstille vann alt på denne jord
Og kanskje en dag vi sees igjen

vi stopper og prater og du blir med meg hjem

så ser vi med tiden hva som skjer

mens vi tenker tilbake på minner og ler

Det var øl

berusende ord

det var sommer det var sol

det var hjerter i brann

blikkstille vann alt på denne jord

Og det var kjærlighet

ja det var kjærlighet

...

Grønt lys og medvind er utgangspunktet for en bra dag

The past few weeks have been really good. Most of all because of the sun and hot weather which transform cold, shy, reserved Norwegians into cheerful, chatty, happy individuals.

I came to think about it.

Here's a few things that's given me a huge smile across my face lately:

- The sun: I know, every Norwegian would say that, but it's true, the sun makes everyone happy. I've only ever met one person who did not enjoy the sun and that was an Irish guy on a sailboat at the Whitsundays. He sat for three straight days with his red hair, milkywhite skin, a sunhat, large t-shirt and was beeing pretty miserable.

- Music: Some songs just makes you laugh. We went to Edinburgh last weekend and at a pub they played Blondie's Maria. Helga got it on her mind. Now she has downloaded it and blares it out into the office landscape a few times a day.

- Unconditional love: aah, you thought you had me there, but then you should stop and think about it. Is that really me? Nope. I don't mean the clishé stuff your boyfriend might give you, what I mean is individuals that loves you for what you can give them. Like my dog Kajsa who adores me because I'll scratch her behind her ears. And my 5-year-old cousin Filippa who thinks I'm the coolest chick around because I wear nice skirts and play dart with her.

- Green lights: I can't take the credit for coming up with this, but if you bikeride to work and you get green lights at every intersection you'll be three minutes early for work and will have the time to get a coffee before you start. The wind part applies mostly in Denmark where it's flat as a pancake and wind in your favour will give you time to stop at the bakery as well as get the coffee. But definitively a mighty fine start to the day.

- Flowers: self-explanatory. Who doesn't like flowers? One of my happiest flowermoments where all from my mum and dad actually. Once on a birthday when I was a kid and dad wasn't home and I got my first flower delivery (of course a special moments). They were pink and had silver bands around them. When I graduated from uni I found an enormous bouquet outside my flat and when I broke my ankle there were also flowers waiting for me.

People: most of my family and friends actually makes me extremely happy whenever I'm with them, so there's really nothing to complain about. My dad always makes me laugh. My grandma is the coolest lady going around always making me feel special. Ex-flattie (to be again?) Trude is a sunbeam herself and of course that affects people around her. My siblings are fun and when we don't fight we laugh. The people I've travelled with I've had so much fun with and we can still sit around and chat about funny, hilarious and often slightly embarrasing times.

So my suggestions to all of you this summer is: Laugh your hearts out. That's what they are there for, and that's what I intend to do.

No further explanations should be needed.

The good is always in minority

Place: Strøget, Copenhagen.
Time: When I really should have been at work.
Who: Maxine and me.
What: Maxing out my credit card, second month in a row.

After some eventful weeks with lots of Australian influence after a long visit from Melbourne I am now situated in Copenhagen, Denmark. I took today off work and caught the bus down last night. I slept most of the way, only woke up now and then to tell Maxine to go to sleep too. She didn't.

It actually felt like I was back in Central America and we were heading on a bus through the continent. Because I spoke English I wasn't immediately looked upon as some xenophobic Norwegian and we soon started to chat to the Indian guy next to us. He was studying in Trondheim, but now on the way to Århus to play music with his friend. We quickly shared our life history and I was wishing it was like this every time I got on a bus, if you felt like talking to the person next to you, you would instead of just quietly whispering sorry when you crawled over him to go to the ladies room.

But we made it to Copenhagen and what a fantastic city this is. Not only for the great shopping, but the people, the buildings, the Royal Family, the Little Mermaid, H.C. Andersen, Tivoli, it all makes Denmark a good place to be. Cristina bugs me for moving to Århus and some times I'm even considering it. Not sure what I would do there, but it would be nice to be closer to my little sissy.

On the Central Station in Copenhagen we went to the bathrooms to freshen up and the old little lady in the control booth (which very conveniently was filled with g-strings and lacy underwear, it looked like it could have been a brothel at some stage) yelled madly at us for only having Norwegian crowns to pay with as she only accepted Swedish and Danish. She let us quickly go to the toilet and wash our hands (see below) but threatened that if we wanted to brush our teeth it would cost us. I wanted to brush my teeth so ended up going to get change and rightfully then spent a quarter of an hour getting ready to meet the daylight.














As the Indian guy said "The good is always in minority." I felt really bad, because he's actually right. There are a lot of arseholes out there. But there is only one thing to do about it (and this is for you nazi-control-freak-bathroom-lady):

Don't be such a BIAATCH and do to others as you wish they would do to you.

Jack Daniels was here too

Sometimes a Friday night drink is a Friday night drink. Other times it's a bit more fun.

Gotta love those work colleagues.

Desperate housewife

Due to Liverpool playing the qualifying finals in UEFA Champions league at the same time as Desperate Housewifes screen on tv I'v been missing out on a few episodes, and I therefore believe I can justify the fact that I lack some housewifey tendencies. Like, for instance: what is the object below:My first guesses were a) flour, b) white paint in powder form, c) cocaine.

No, no, I was wrong there, I'll give you a few hints, it fixes your dirty laundry, and not only that, it fixes your white dirty laundry...

It all started a few weeks ago, I was at work and Helga asked me if I had a new shirt on. New? No. I look down and see, it sure was quite crispy white and with no creases. But not new. Hmm...I wondered about the story behind it until I realized I left my shirt at my mum's last time I was home. And voila, it has not only been ironed, it has also been washed with white washing powder, something which appearantly does the trick and make stuff look new again.

I told my mum who laughed heartily and said yes, didn't I know that I had to wash my whites with white washing powder (and of course with no coloured stuff, but that's given right? Ehh...you should see my white clothes. Rather gray as my sister puts it). So no, I didn't know that. I might have briefly seen that there are different types of washing powder in the stores, but I only though they were expensive ones, or more expensive ones, not that they actually influenced your clothes in one way or another.

And here comes my real question: Why did I not know this? My mum knew. She knows everything there is to know about a household and she has a career too, so it's not because of abundance of time at home. I think nowadays kids (I refer to myself as one in this situation as I can't even wash my clothes right) don't learn these kinds of things any more. We have our mums or cleaners or gardeners or you-name-it to fix any ordinary things around the house and as a result end up not knowing what to do if things don't work. I can do my tax return online, send photos around the world with one click or print out last year's bank statements in a tic, but I struggle at lots of essential stuff.

These following things I could do if I had no handy-man around:
- Unclog the shower drain
- Cut the grass with a manual lawn mower
- Screw together Ikea furniture (proved several times) and other furniture items

What I couldn't do or would definitively struggle more with is:
- Plant a bulb in the garden (I'd kill it with to much water/sun/soil)
- Change a fuse
- Change a bicycle tire

Kids these days don't learn elementary things that will save you for a lot of trouble later in life. If you get a plumber to pull your hair out of the drain it's gonna set you back at least 500 kroner for ten minutes work. And the bicycle tire-change will cost you 200 at G Sport. Not to mention the ridicule you'll expose yourself to if you call the electrician to change a fuse. It ain't that hard. But I still don't know it.

So I believe some of the nynorsk in high school should've been replaced with a subject called Bare Essentials or something similar. I think they had Home Economics at my high school in Australia where people learned amongs others how to bake bread (there are lots of people who don't know how to). I was so pro-girl-scouting as a kid because now I briefly know how to rise a tent, knit knots, make bonfires etc, but there are lots of housewifey stuff I wouldn't mind getting my head around.

And to finish it all off, I was having some beers with Kristin last night and she sincerely expressed the fact that we were not going to be someones housewife when we grew up, no, we were going to be careerwomen! And successful ones at that! I'm very pro that thought as well, but realize the very convenience of constantly not killing your garden plants and managing to save a New Year's turkey in the oven if the electricity blows.

A fruit, a bird, a nation

Ka mate! Ka mate! Ka ora! Ka ora!
Ka mate! Ka mate! Ka ora! Ka ora!
Tenei te tangata puhuru huru
Nana nei i tiki mai
Whakawhiti te ra
A upa…ne! Ka upa…ne!
A upane kaupane whiti te ra! Hi!!!

I die! I die! I live! I live!
I die! I die! I live! I live!
This is the hairy man
Who fetched the sun
And caused it to shine again
One upward step! Another upward step!
An upward step. Another… the sun shines.

That's one way of greeting the world. Spring's here - yay!!

Finn én feil

The world has gone absolutely stark raving mad

4.18pm, in the office: Ola comes in the door, we have a chat and tell him about the huge mega success Facebook has been for Kulturstudier and x-plore. Kulturstudier have got 40 new members and an unaccounted for number of posts and board topics since lunch, more than what we had all autumn at our old forum. So it's all good.

4.21pm, still office: Helga and I try to trick Ola into at least having a look at this phenomenon, if not good for anything else at least it will increase awareness about his band Suspenders and they can post whenever they've got gigs and stuff.

4.27pm: Ola has logged into Facebook and is struggling with the privacy settings. Don't really want your email to be shown off to the entire world, will you?

4.32pm: He's hooked. Helga and me are now guilty of creating another Facebook junkie. Black Suspenders have already managed to get several friends, joined two groups, been invited to a few events and mentioned we hooked up last year and it was good. Now he's in a relationship and it's complicated. (Heard that before, haven't we??)

4.48pm: Another ten people have joined Kulturstudier's group and I am in ecstasy. Trude posts a note on my wall asking for photos of Kristoffer. I say I don't have any available, but that he's added as friend and she can snoop around for herself.

Time-consuming, information-sharing, network-binding, friends-making, espionage on the highest level. Trude haven't repeated her request so I guess she found what she was looking for.

I rest my case.

There's still lots too see

"If you're afraid of dying it means you've got a life worth living." Dr. Garrigan to Idi Amin.

Relationship status: It's complicated.

Excuse me? Who would ever, voluntarily post this on the internet for all, and then I mean your friends, their friends and friends of them to see? The newest, appearantly hottest, thing for many (especially those at university bored by exam studying) to keep in touch with their friends is Facebook. I was tagged by some twenty of my friends (and people who just thought it would be cool to have me as a friend, but I haven't spoken to in years) before I even considered looking into it. Then it was like "oh, what's this, gotta try it out!" and since I'd deleted all my friends' tags I know had to annoy them by sending them spam emails saying "Maria has added you to Facebook, to confirm her as your friend click here," and I would have caused lots of extra work for many of my friends who really should be studying for their exams.

But this phenomenon (and I won't entirely write is off as waste of time) (well I will, but I have made contact with some friends I haven't seen since high school, so at least not entirely evil), enables you to:
a) find your friends on the internet
b) when they have accepted you as their friend, you can see who they have listed as friends
c) you can see the status of all their friends and who they are (went to primary school with Line, middle school with Kristine, was in ANSA with Joakim, travelled the world with many etc etc).
d) you can read your friends' friends' personal comments to your friends.

So it is like a public MSN for anyone to see and everyone to comment on. And it's not like comments on Blogger (which in many cases, like this, are moderated by the author of the blog). If I want to write something on someone's Wall I am free to write whatever I feel and the person can't do anything about it til next time he logs on. And in some cases that could be a day or four and to have some unsolicited comment from friends and foes to see could sometimes, I imagine, turn very nasty. Especially if it's someone you have been/want to be/are in a relationship with.

A friend of mine has listed her personal status as "In a relationship", and then added the comment (which is pre-fabricated, you've got a few to chose from) "It's complicated". I assume she would have her own boyfriend as a friend too (I'd be slightly annoyed if blocked by mine), but can't imagine what he would feel publicly seeing his relationship as complicated. I know their relationship isn't a dance on roses, but that's stuff she's told me in confidence and which I (expect for here) wouldn't tell anyone, but she displaying it to all her friends is fine?

Another friend said it was a great way to snoop in other's pictures, but in most instances, unless I know the occasion, were there myself or have heard the stories I couldn't care less about your Grade 6-trip to Fagerli Leirskole-album. A friend of hers again is in trouble after some guy published slightly more delicate photos on his profile. Again for ALL to see and anyone to click on.

So yes, despite the fact that I keep writing on Kristin's wall in replies to her comments on mine I believe Facebook will be a short affair for me. I know I can look up people I don't want to know about, see their photos and read about their intimate relations to people I do care about.

But really, I've got other stuff to do.

Fuega har udbrud!

The Danish backpackers in our dormroom stands in the hallway and jumps exitingly up and down. "Fuego is erupting, Fuego is erupting!" It's way past mightnight and we had been asleep for a few hours only to now get out of our bunkbeds and up on the roof to really see, an erupting volcano! It's far away but sure, there is lava running down the side of the mountain and smoke and fumes spewing out of the top. And all this on the same day as we are supposed to climb an active volcano ourselves!!

After another day in Xela just sightseeing, buying breakfast at the market and eating it on the rooftop and bumming around the city we headed out on the nightmarish chickenbus-ride from Xela to Antigua. It takes four hours which is just more than my legs are comfortable being crammed up and squashed and it didn't even take ten minutes before a third man decided he wanted to sit next to us too, and then we were three on the tiny bus seat. But we got there and headed straight to A place to Stay Hotel (I follow my own Guatemala advice), and Raul was a darling as always. He gave us a dorm room with four bunk beds, booked us on a volcano trip the next day and fixed a shuttle for us to the airport early Saturday morning. Everything was taken care of! We walked around the city and had some dinner before going to bed early only to be woken up to see the mountain melting before our eyes!

Later on Friday it was time to ascend Volcán Pacaya. It is one of Guatemala's three active volcanoes (Fuego and Santiago are the other two) and we were a big group of around 50 people heading up the narrow tracks. It was pretty crammed and I felt like the ultimate tourist being guided around, but all grudges disappeared as we saw the lava. We came to a hilltop and the valley below had been filled with lava after the previous eruption last year. We then went on a 15 minute hike across the lava, some places where so hot our shoes nearly melted, other places it was like a sauna door had just opened, it was amazing! We got to the lookoutspot where you could really get a good view of the river of lava and burning rock was constantly falling out of the crater. We then saw the most magnifiscent sunset over Agua and Fuego (still spewing smoke and ashes) and walked down in the dark. We got back to Antigua late, packed our stuff and headed home to Norway early Saturday morning. I've now spent the first day back at work being home sick in bed, but it has been a fantastic trip from start to finish and I can't wait for the next adventure!

Suerte!

Home turf

After ten months away from Guatemala we are finally back in Xela! But lots have happenend since that, so let's start at the beginning:

Laguna de Apoyo
Kristoffer came late on Friday night and Jaime was dancing around outside the airport with a big sign with our names on it, ready to take us to Laguna de Apoyo south of Masaya where Kari, a Norwegian friend from Melbourne works. It is a little piece of paradise and as we came Kari gave us the grand tour of the place. It basically exists of jungle and a lake and is in a volcanic crater so it's pretty cool. There's no light around so we could see about a zillion stars, pretty fantastic.

On Saturday we borrowed a cayak and went across the lake. It's a good six kilometer padle, and with the wind going strong against us it was tough at times. We're happy when we arrived at the other side, and could just lie down and let the wind take us back to shore. Kari entertained us all day and they have wonderful food at the place so we're pretty happy when we headed back to Managua that night. In Managua we stayed at a hot little hostel and I was thrilled when we could get out of the dirty city and on to the bus to El Salvador.

San Salvador
We arrived in San Salvador early afternoon after two border crossings and as many police checks. We met a Danish guy on the bus and three Americans and a French lady and all decided to head out to the nicer parts of San Salvador together. Due to lots of people who've been expelled from USA and now have crap lives in El Salvador there is a fair bit of crime and approximately 3000 murders a year. That's a fair bit for a country with less than 5 million people. And of course, there is a reason I first said this now, after passing through safely. We are taking care, mum!

But it was nice to see San Salvador as well and we spent the evening on a roof top terrace with the other travellers.

Xela
Bright and early Monday morning it was time to head to Guatemala. I felt at home as soon as we crossed the border and we were in Guatemala City in no time. We caught a "taxi" (meaning a guy who stood at the bus stop wanting to take us somewhere for a ridiculous price of money, without no official certifications as a taxi driver. Anyway, we got were we needed to be on time, so no worries).

It was marvellous to see Xela again and we headed straight to a hotel, dropped our bags and went to see Marte. She had just had a tough meeting with all the students, but ready for a beer, so Tecun next stop. Kristoffer asked why I didn't worry so much here in Xela, but felt rather uncomfortable in, say Managua, and it's because here I feel like home!

Fuentes Georginas
After a bit (lot) of local beer Monday night we decided to head to Fuentes Georginas yesterday. It's hot springs about half an hour out of Xela. We politely asked the bus driver to stop at the right spot, but he happily ignored our request and drove straight past. We got out on the highway in the middle of nowhere and started to walk back to Zunil. Suddenly there is a guy and his son, in a pick up in the opposite direction from where we were going who waved at us and asked if we were going to the bus station. We said we're heading up to the hot springs and he went sure, 40 quetzales and I'll take you there. So we drove up in the back of a pick up enjoying the fantastic view. When we got there he said he could pick us up as well but wanted to be paid up front. Ok, we thought and enjoyed a few hot hours in the sulphurfilled water. We nearly started walking down to Zunil after waiting 30 minutes for our ride, but remember this is mañana mañana land and you have to give people some slack, because our friend rocked up as promised and took us down to the bus station. It's good to have faith in mankind.

Xela is at our doorstep and need to be explored. Hasta pronto.

You spoiled little brat

I have left Leon. It was a fantastic city with some absolutely amazing people. I truly understand why Kulturstudier wants to have their study center there. Other than that I've just caught a taxi from Leon to Managua. It has been the most amazing taxi ride ever, I have seen volcanoes, el campo, tiny pueblos and zona francas which phenomenon needs its own blog entry to explain. Will come later. However it was also sad, because Victor, the taxidriver, told me a lot about what does not go so well in this country, and there is a lot of it. Managua for example comes out as one shitty capital and I want to spend as little time here as possible. Fair bit of crime, corruption etc, how can I get out of here??

Anyway, at the airport now waiting for Kristoffer, and after what I've heard from Victor I am so happy he's coming with me. Think I might kiss him when he gets here.

"Call on me" vs "Take me on"

It was another funny day on the bus to and from the study centre, where the bus was blaring all kind of music, most of which I would be embarrased of if found in my CD collection.

After a short day at school where I joined a Spanish 2 tutorial (waaay over my head), yet understood surprisingly much, most of it thanks to the Spanish teacher Carolina's beautiful intonation we headed home and decided to join another aerobic class after Monday's success.

It is hard to explain but what you see is basically what you get, and it looks hilarious at least! Let me say that I have never experienced such arse-shaking, hip-rolling, hand-waving or tip-toeing in a gym class before, and Elixia will never be the same after this. We were about 30 mujeres (no boys), about half of them from Kulturstudier, and of course the little man in orange at the front thought this newfound attention was good fun. He loved running around waving his hands like Kirsten Dunst in Bring it On (don't see it if you haven't, it's crap, but the hand movement is similar), and was also very helpful during stretching. The lack of guys was fair enough, however some of the moves suggested that the instructor might have been bribed so the chicos could get a private performance at a lager stage.

You get the picture, right?

Perdido en traducción

E: Hola. Hablas español?
M: Un poquito.
E: Quieres vas a un volcán?
M: Si, cuando? Y quel volcán? Hablas ingles?
E: No.
M: No?? Donde eres?
E: Donde eres?
M: Noruega. Y tu?
E: Un país pequeño, sud de la Noruega.
M: Dinamarca?
E: Si.
M: Hva? Taler du dansk?

And there we go. It's a small world and there's no chance you can hide from other Vikings, especially not in a city like Leon. The 70 Norwegians walking around town makes a fair standpoint and the city has grown in popularity amongs Australians, Dutch, Germans, Americans and now Danes too. Nevertheless, it doesn't decrease the love I have for the place, I grow more and more fond of it every day and after a spectacular lecture in Latin American studies this morning I just want to find my old school books and start reading for the upcoming exam.

Today has mostly been spent at the study centre which many of the students also just call the "beach", and naturally I still get confused when they sigh, roll their eyes and say "I have to go to the beach today" as it was something they detested, but it then also means having lectures, which some, especially now that exams are looming would rather be without and spend the time doing readings that should have been done ages ago.

Tonight the local caretakers of the houses hosted a Noche Cultural, a cultural evening where we were introduced to Nicaraguan food. We clapped tortillas, made a sweet drink and tamales (corn dough, beef and veggies in bananaleaf - yum), and I feel slightly more Nicaraguan now.

Nevertheless it has been another hot day and Scarlett and Rhett has actually improved in readability and I've progressed noticably in Gone with the Wind. If not good for anything else at least it helps me fall asleep.

Buenas noches.

En un país abajo?

It was surreal to sit on an antique school bus from USA, driving across the dry bushland of Nicaragua listening to a modern Latin American version of Men at Work's "Land Down Under". Despite it being old and "harry" it's one of the songs that makes me most patriotic towards Australia (only beaten by the Qantas song). That's just some of the things you somehow more frequently experiences in Latin America than elsewhere on the planet, and I was torn between two of my favourite continents while heading out to the study centre, which is conviently located on the beach overlooking the magnifiscent Pacific Ocean.

Other than that today has just been another hot day. I enjoy the jetlag actually as it means I am bright awake by 6.30am and can enjoy a short hour of comfortable temperatures before the sun starts broiling everything it can gets it's rays on. Tonight we're going to a gym class - aerobic, and I've been warned it could be compared to the music video to "Call on me". Definitively something to look forward to...

Found

I found my watch! It disappeared last weekend in Hemsedal, but has now miraculously appeared again in Nicaragua. Must have been something to do with loosing my sunnies and carma and all.

Anyway, today has been another very eventful day. We started out with breakfast at Big Foot, the local hangout for backpackers and alike and had a very "Nicaraguan" breakfast of granola, youghurt and bagels before walking around town looking for sights. The cathedral which is the biggest in Central America was unfortunately closed, but we found a memorial for heroes and martyres as well as a former prison and a headless priest. Then we were invited to a street party by strangers, watched a local baseball match and roamed around the graveyard. All this before drinking a few litres of beer costing the grand amount of C$ 26 a pop (AU$2 og 12NOK) and taking a microbus back to the city centre. Microbuses are a funny phenomenon and exists in Guatemala as well, it's minivans driving along the road, picking up everyone for C$ 3 (about one krone or 20c) and taking you (after driving everyone else home first) to where you want to go. Convienient albeit not always the fastest way to get around.

Nevertheless, all of this naturally makes for lots of impressions which in addition to very hot weather makes me tired. So disregard the "local" time on this blog post, it's far from 4am in the morning, but I am tired and heading to bed.

Hasta luego, I'm up for Spanish classes mañana!

Lost

We caught a taxi out to Los Peñitas and met Rigo and some of the other teachers and jumped in a boat. Tonje Camilla, Hamdi and Oeyvind had decided to come as well, and within short time we found ourself on the deck of a small boat, flashing our (my) white belly and drinking ice cold beer in the very hot weather. We were going on a sump safari and as the mangrove forest closed around us it was a magical feeling. Rigo was sitting with two bird-books and whenever we saw something move he was right there with the map pointing at what kind of bird it is.

We entered a national reserve and drove close to the shoreline (though inland, separated from the sea by the mangroves) for nearly an hour, bird-wathing and enjoying existence. We met some local fishermen and saw tons of blue herrons, green herrons, white stork like birds and alike. It was absolutely magnificent, and Tonje Camilla was even more satisfied, if she hadn't joined us she would have been at home complaining about why she never did stuff like this, so all very good.

On our way back we stopped at a small opening in the mangroves and walked a few hundred meters through the bushland. And what we saw was undescribable. The beach was white as my skin really, and as far as you could see to your left and right there was not one other person. We had this paradize to ourselves and as I focused on the horizont I am pretty sure I could see Australia on the other side of the Pacific Ocean. Absolutely fantastic and the waves were just big enough they would tumble you around, yet not knock you to the ground unconcious. Despite the fact that I was able to battle the waves, my sunglasses decided to drown and I am sure they will never be found. There's just a tiny bit of water to search through.

Wimps stay home?

I nod, enthusiastically and smile. "Yeah they do I say." I am on flight AA985, half in coma after many hours without sleep and on my way to Managua, Nicaragua. The airhostess looks at my t-shirt and my company´s slogan and says it´s a brilliant idea. I totally agree. Dare to x-plore.

So, how did I get on to AA985? Pretty easy, you jump on a plane i Oslo, a new one in Paris and third one in Miami. Gotta say though, air travel is not like it used to be. It took me 20 hours of travel from Oslo to Managua, only 14 flying time. That means six hours in transit and I spent the whole of three minutes in a shop (Starbucks of course), and it wasn´t because I didn´t want to linger around Duty Free shops, there just wasn´t time! Security after security measures have made a three hours transit just enough time to go from Gate 34 to 56. But I got through the final customs check in Managua, which was ten times more organized than it´s brother in the US of A, and got out on the street. I looked left, right and center when a man runs up to me. "Hola, Maria? I saw your red passport, and thought it had to be you!" Good to know the oil fund looks after me even when I´m not on home soil.

So, I was picked up in Managua by Rigo and Flavio and we drove two hours to Leon in northeastern Nicaragua. It was good to be back in Central America, yet the smells, the sounds, the traffic conditions is always a bit of a shock.

I should have known better. After a quick shower I found myself next to a guerillasoldier with a plastic machine gun, a girl wearing purple balloons, a treebranch on her head and looked like a grape, five basketball-players with stinky socks and cat(wo)man who purred and rolled over on the ground if you scratched his belly. Welcome to Kulturstudier´s bi-annual costume-party! It was great to see Tonje Camilla again, and she introduced me to most of the students (and many of them maaany times) who study in Leon. It was fun to see them in that "state" of mind, and I wonder how many will remember what they got up to today.

Today I woke up at 7.30am (jetlagged) and was once again faced with the exploded bag-phenomenon. I think is has the annoying habit of following me, and it is absolutely not my fault. For those who travelled with me last year in Guatemala they would know I really tried to keep everything neat and clean and organized.

Did I mention I had been at the hotel room for the total amount of two minutes when the photo was taken. It´s like I get the key to the door, open the door, but my bag down on the floor and BOOOM - all the content is out on the nearest bed. Really got to work on that.

Nevertheless, now I've walked around town, love the way the give you road descriptions, I live for example two and a half block northeast of the church. Or up the road from the plaza or similar. But, it´s once again time to explore a new country, I am heading on a boat trip this afternoon which should be great. Until next time, take care!

And Kristin, I think I found your Australian...

Ostrich in the sand?!

Everyone has (or does regularly, say every Saturday night) sent silly, sad, angry, loving, caring or just plain stupid text messages while under the influence of alcohol. I have to admit I am no exception and does this fairly frequently. Mostly harmless stuff no one would take notice off, sometimes with more delicate content I then have to excuse the next day.

Up til last year this was really no problem as my phone never stored sent messages and if I suspected that stupid messages had been sent I could just let it go with a quick, "oh, I was drunk last night, hope you didn't take offence or anything" and the other person would say, "no, can't remember a thing either, no worries."

Now however all sent messages are automatically stored and I find myself waking up the next day thinking "WHAT THE?", did I actually write that?? As a reponse to what?? I quickly check the inbox, but find it empty as I delete most messages as soon as I get them and therefore often have no recollection of what absurd things I've dignified with an answer. As a combat to this rather akward, not to mention embarrazing sensation I have gone on auto-pilot and now automatically deletes sent messages as soon as they are written, just to limit the number of evidences of my intricate behaviour.

A bit like an ostrich in the sand actually. Dig, dig, schuffle, schuffle. Big hole, a bit bigger. Head in. Sand on top. What I can not see is not a problem, and therefore not an issue at all.

A bit like my trip to Nicaragua. It's next Friday and I'm jotting off at 4am in the morning. Haven't considering locating my passport even. But as long as I am not going tomorrow it's not a problem. I have the time of the day.

Gotta realize soon that one day I will be going tomorrow.

Hallmark, go to...

It started in early January. Two days after news years, I am at work and unknowingly opens an email from one of my company's partners. "IT IS NOT TOO LATE!" What is not too late I think, and continue reading the email, only to be brutally reminded of my then very lonely marital status. "Get your Valentins Day lollies NOW" I work at a pretty reputable firm, and get sent this kind of junk more than five weeks before the actualy Hallmark-sponsored holiday?! I quickly deleted the email, marked the sender as spam for future reference and have ignored the topic since.

Today, I am again reminded, by tons of flower-carrying men, chocolate deliveries and big red hearts everywhere, that yes, that time of year has again arrived. The day where single people should go out, get drunk and have fun, and couply people be true to their loved ones. I am not sure which is the worst.

Anyway, without much further comment, I will just say that Valentins Day is a bit like New Years Eve. Extremely oppskrytt. If you want to improve your life, don't wait til December 31st to reveal the new you, do it today.

And if you love someone, show them every day, not when Maceys tell you to.

Mom, I have chocolate in my eye

Welcome to the weird and wonderful world of Warsaw! Back in November, Christine and I decided we were sick of Oslo, the cold winter, expensive drinks and boring people. So, what do you do? You get a cheap flight to a country you haven't been to before, book yourself into the fanciest hotel I've ever stayed at, buy beer by the litre and get a spa treatment consisting of chocolate. And that is after you've had chocolate waffles and hot chili hot chocolat for lunch. It was an undescribebly good feeling being covered in chocolate sauce and wrapped in plastic foil like a piece of Kong Haakon konfekt, and the scent of chocolate stayed in your skin for hours afterwards. But enough of the sweet talking. Warsaw was a lot more than cookies and cream.

First of all the sun was shining. That was good, because both Christine and me had been missing it, so naturally, two happy chaps when it decided to come and see us.


Second of all, Warsaw was the home to one of the biggest crimes towards humanity during the Second World War. Hundreds of thousands of Jews were gathered in a ghetto on the west bank of the river, and when the Germans got sick of them, either killed or sent to the concentration camps. It was very special following the footsteps of the heroes of the ghetto who had uprised against the authorioties, yet the only thing left to remember them was an engraved stone in a suburbian neighboorhood. Very sad, but people must not forget.

Peace out.

Lost in translation

Prime Minister John Howard was visiting a primary school and he visited one of the classes. They were in the middle of a discussion related to words and their meanings. The teacher asked the Prime Minister if he would like to lead the discussion on the word "tragedy". So the illustrious leader asked the class for an example of a "tragedy".

One little boy stood up and offered: "If my best friend, who lives on a farm, is playing in the field and a tractor runs over him and kills him, that would be a 'tragedy'". " No," said Howard, "that would be an accident."

A little girl raised her hand: "If a school bus carrying fifty children drove over a cliff, killing everyone inside, that would be a tragedy." "I'm afraid not," explained the Prime Minister "That's what we would call a great loss."

The room went silent. No other children volunteered. John searched the room. "Isn't there someone here who can give me an example of tragedy?" Finally, at the back of the room, a small boy raised his hand.

In a quiet voice he said: "If the airplane carrying you was struck by "friendly fire" and blown to smithereens, that would be a tragedy. "Fantastic!" exclaimed John Howard. "That's right. And can you tell me why that would be a tragedy?"

"Well," says the boy "It has to be a tragedy, because it certainly wouldn't be a great loss and it probably wouldn't be an accident either."

You should've thought about that, Mr. Howard, before you refused to sign the Kyoto protocol! I could have replaced Bush' name instead of the jolly good Australian PM , but would probably have been arrested by the FBI, SAS, CSI, various anti-terror units, Hamas or you name it who they've managed to get on their side.

So, some things are pretty self explanatory and there's no need for further explanation. Some things however needs more explanation than you would think. I spent last weekend in Stockholm (which is in another country for those Aussies thinking it was the capital of Norway), yet didn't think twice about actually bringing a passport before I was standing rather nervous at the airport thinking "Shit, do you need a passport, or is it in Schengen, or EEC or something," and luckily I made it to Sweden. Stockholm was a great city, but it is funny how culture shock can hit you, despite being so damn close to home. We were heading from one part of the town to another, and at the train station, trying to focus on what the cute Swede was saying I felt more lost than what I've done in Esquintla, San Cristobal or Huehue.

Great to know I'm heading back there soon.

What goes around comes around

When they were finally alone, he would have fresh in his mind the pictures of the other men thronging about her, he would be newly impressed with the fact that every one of them wanted her, and that look of sadness and despair would be in his eyes. Then she would make him happy again by letting him discover that, popular though she was, she preferred him above any other man in all the world. And when she admitted it, modestly and sweetly, she would look a thousand things more. Of course, she would do it all in a ladylike way. She wouldn't even dream of saying to him boldly that she loved him - that would never do. But the manner of telling him was a detail that troubled her not at all. She had managed such situations before and she could do it again.

She saw the look of surprise and happiness that would come over his face when he realized that she really loved him. Then a slight chill entered her heart. Suppose it didn't work out this way? Suppose he didn't beg her to run away with him. "I won't think of that now," she said firmly. "There's no reason why things won't come out the way I want them - if he loves me. And I know he does."

Congratulations, you've just read the last part of chapter 4 in Gone with the Wind. Despite it being a classic and all I'm struggling to get through it like I did with Little Women, Kristin Lavransdatter and Lord of the Rings. The last two are still on my to do list. Good to know relationships were just as complicated in the 1850s as they are now. I thought we were talking about development.

Must have been on those important issues like krig og fred og religion og politikk og sånn.

The power of one

I walked on my way to work today, fast and determined, it was minus 8 degrees, yet the shoes and jacket I was wearing belong to temperatures a good 30 degrees over the current level. Suddenly I saw a man on a one-wheeled bike!

It is winter. It is freezing, not to mention pretty icy and my runners struggle every day to keep me from an unpretty closeup with the sidewalk. And suddenly there is this man riding a one-wheeled bike!

He comes bikeriding with his helmet tucked around his head, like it was the most natural thing to do on a cold winter morning. Good on him for making me smile.

Gotta love those quirky things that makes our day.

Ghosts from the past

It's been another weekend at my parents new house, and lots of cleaning up, going through boxes with some stuff I wish I'd never see again. Like my year 8 gradebook. Nothing to be proud of. Also found some old essays which made me reconsider my choice of career. Not good.

Nevertheless, between textbooks, photos and teddybears I found The law of girl scouts. I was a girl scout when I was 7 and I'd made this book ful of (I assume) useful stuff when you hike around in the woods. Appearantly I once knew how to make signs in the forest for others to follow, how to rise the flag at the correct times, a star sign called Lepus, not to mention that I knew what animal had walked in my path by looking at the footprint it had left behind. I'm slightly ashamed, but have to admit this knowledge has somehow disappeared. Anyway, the law of scouts consist of ten rules. Here are my favourites:

4. A girl scout is a good friend.

7. A girl scout thinks and acts independently and tries to understand others.

8. A girl scout does her best in hard and difficult times.

10. A girl scout works for peace and understanding between people.

I wonder what the world would have been like if everyone, from the age of ten had been imprinted with these rules. Bet Bush hasn't been a scout, he needs a bit more practise at # 10 at least.

There was a snow storm on the weekend, so snow is still here for some weird reason. My dog Kajsa loves snow, and especially chasing snowballs. She's also a champ at making snowangels. I'll give you some snow photos. They could be dedicated to Tonje Camilla who's in Central America and definitively won't see snow in the upcoming months, but might dedicate them to Stian instead, because it's actually just as unlikely he'll see any.

Det er dejlig at være norsk i Danmark.

Told you so!

Snow's gone. Unreliable piece of crap. Feel most sorry for Kristin actually, she's been wanted snow nearly more than me, looking forward to skitrips in Nordmarka, with Kvikklunsj and oranges. Only four months til Easter.

Luckily, way before then I'll be roaming Central America, feeling lost at bus stations and bored at Tica buses, nevertheless, it will be fantastic to come back to La Bendicion and Xela, meet the people from Kab'awil again and maybe the People's College up in the mountains outside Quetzaltenango. I smile every time I think about it.

However, these things aren't best experienced on your own, it's a bit like diving, great to have buddy, so I hereby extend an open invitation to anyone who might be so lucky to get a few days off work/school/life in March to come with me. I realize I'll probably do it on my own, can't expect employers here in Norway to understand the need to go bananahunting at Montezuma, but you would be sorry to miss it.

Really.

Can't fight the curiosity

You've definitively been there. Seen the sign wet paint but you just had to dip your finger in it to make sure, absolutely one hundred percent, that yes, the paint was wet. Been at the zoo where they warn you animals bite, but aaahhh, the monkey is so cute, then AARGGHHHH, it's a god damn rabies infested monster when it takes a chunk out of your finger.

If someone gave you a box where it said do not open, and left the room to be gone for a while, would you open it? I bet you would. Or, as I would, walked backwards without looking, accidently tripping over, box on the floor, lid off, contents revealed. Half of Americas Funniest Home Videos are probably made up of people just a bit too nosy for their own good, only to be scared the living daylight out of by the thing they were'nt allowed to check out. I realize that is a possibility.

We see so many warnings every day, but diregard them, because, it might, just, what, if, maybe. You never know.

I agree. Why wouldn't you want to know?

Too little, too late?

In fear of using too many of Radio 1's "Topp seks klokken seks"- songs as headers I hereby acknowledge that I stand by my decision to name this post "Too little, too late?" (And the question-mark is important here), despite it also being the second post in a row that steals the name of a song.

All autumn I've been waiting for one thing. I've talked to friends about it, wished for it, waited for it, gone to bed every night and thought, please, pretty please, let it happen tonight. But no, it has been long. I've been waiting and been left out in the dark. There have been indications that we might be have been close to the ultimate satisfaction, but what little there was always disappeared in front of my eyes, left me stranded and lost, longing for it.

Then, like a lightning from clear skies, I got it. It was there before me, and suddenly I did not know. Was this really what I wanted? It would definitively make me uncomfortable at times. And cold. Maybe I was better off without it?

It used to make me happy. But was it just too little too late? Was I nearly so over it, waiting for the next, that it screwed with my head and left me clueless? Despite promises of it's authenticity, and that this time it had come to stay, I'm not sure I'm willing to let the guards down. I might get disapointed.

13 cm of snow can't make up for the green winter we've had so far. It should've snowed back in October when I wanted it to. Not waited til now to seize the day.

All good things come to an end

It's been a weird weekend. I've been at my parents place cleaning up before they upsize their perfectly fine suburbian house and move out to the country. Of course I have to think of the future offspring who wants a garden to play in without the immediate danger of getting run over by cars, but a bit out in the sticks, if you ask me.

Nevertheless, up in the loft, behind old clothes, doonas and teddybears were four boxes that literally contained "my life". Pictures, letters, old school organizers and just small things that reminded me of times that had been. Some things I'd kept for so many years I'd forgotten why there were special to me, some things brought up sad memories and other things just made me laugh. I found a wooden figure Ryan made to me in Australia because he'd seen a beautiful flower Cristina had crafted, although it was a nice gesture, the wooden man somehow did not make the "keep beyond 2007" box.

What I did find that just made me embarrazed and probably should go without mention was a CD-collection. I'm not even going to mention it's content, but it matched the like of 74-75 and Blue (both of which I've heard on the radio during the weekend), Space Jam, Cotton Eye Joe and Macarena, not to forget the one and only MMMpop.

I think it's good some things come to an end.

Clueless

A: hey, hey, hey!! Watch out!!
(napkin has caught fire during NYE dinner)
F: Hmmm...we'll just stop the flames.
(puts another napkin on top to kill the fire)
M: Don't think that's going to work.
(flames triple in size)
F: Hmmm...this might work.
(extinguishes the flames by throwing the plate, first course of the night, knife and fork in a waterfilled sink)

There is a solution to every problem.

"Be the change you want to see in the world."