Norwegian Inherited Stiffness Syndrome

Mama Rosa was sitting on a chair in the corner, and despite her body fighting cancer, her bones fighting the brittleness, and her seventy-plus-years fighting gravity one could not overlook the shine in her eyes and the decire to dance. The tea cup was bouncing up and down on her lap, and the feet, covered in big woolen socks were tripping along with the African rythms on this night of love.

Her daughter, Portia, who is in my class, had invited us all for dinner, and it was an experience I will not soon forget, and probably always connect with Valentin's Day. Portia and her mother are quite good at speaking and were both sharing memories of loved ones lost, and the ones that were still around to experience the ups and downs of ones life. We went through compulsory introduction rounds everytime someone new dropped by for a visit and in the end I realized I've had more hugs from strangers today than what I've had in total since I arrived in the country four weeks ago. Being Norwegian it is fantastic to see that there actually is some root in the old Ringnes commercial from a few years back. Norwegians are terrible in unfamiliar social settings, and we have something to learn from our African fellows. After dinner we were forced to join the dancing and singing and actually had some great fun at it as well.

People who know me knows I think Valentin's Day is a "shameless commercial exploitation of people's insecurities day", and I see no reason why to fill up homes and trollies with toys made in China (although I do like flowers, but that can be any day of the year). And although Portia was dressed in red and jumping of joy for the flowers and chocolate we brought her, she was clear on directing the love towards all people, not just the better half.

Tonight was about having friends and family around you in sickness and in health, for better and for worse, until death do us apart. Cheers.