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.