It's been a very stressful week, on so many levels. I've got my first exam to finish by Monday, I just completed the Project Overview for my EuroWeek team – due today.* I still have a norsk litteratur oppgave to finish next week, and I still haven't gotten any further with my thesis paper than I was at the end of Spring Break. So I'm taking a break from writing with a little bit of writing. Makes sense, right?
Among other dubious distinctions this week, I've become the official Team Leader for my EuroWeek team instead of just the de facto leader. I'm not entirely sure I wanted this position, but as I've been doing the work, it's nice to have the title to go with it. I am the team secretary and head writer as well, being the only native English speaker.** The writing position I'm quite satisfied with, seeing as it's about the only strength I have to contribute, not being a business student to conquer the theory and project design or being proficient enough in Norwegian to interview Norwegian businesses for the case study or the survey that the team has designed. So I'm the last person to get all the information and get it in order for the deadlines, so I suppose that puts me in a good position to lead. I know when I need to demand information by in order to get things written in good time. And maybe it will make me look extra shiny and brilliant on my grad school applications. Maybe it will help me get funding. So I guess I do want the Team Leader position.
What I'm not sure I like, one of my team members called me "Leader" – with the quotes and capitalization – in a recent e-mail. I'm trying to take it as recognition and a compliment, but being being cynical and worn out I'm struggling not to interpret it as sarcasm. Especially in light of my peppering chat messages with large amounts of encouragement and smilies when I start getting very frustrated by being misunderstood or not getting data and other information when I need it. I love the internet. I can privately growl and scowl as much as I need to and then give people happy faces when I have to explain something for the third time.
In other news, my kvedarkurs had a concert for some of the kindergarten kids on Monday morning. It went slightly better than can be expected, seeing as I didn't know which songs we were singing until Sunday night. Oh, the dangers of taking an early break. I had missed the last class meeting before Påskenferie because I was traveling in the UK then. At least I didn't forget the songs I had to sing on my own. Though I honestly don't remember if I sung well or not. And then, of course, I heard about the shootings at Virginia Tech and it combined with all the rest of my stress to completely freak me out. Not that it doesn't upset me anyway. But I'm not sure I would have sent out an e-mail asking my college friends to send me some words if I hadn't already been on the edge of breaking down. Much thanks to all the friends that responded, especially those who had done so by the next day. It seriously did something to calm me down. Unfortunately, getting the news on Monday prevented Lill and I from practicing the Scottish folk song that I wanted to sing for the last åpenscene. She was going to accompany me on guitar. We did manage to get a second practice session in on Tuesday night, but ended up not preforming anyway because we were both just exhausted on Wednesday. I did, however, still sing in her choir and did a not to bad job of it. Especially seeing as I was late to the practice right before and didn't get to warm up with everyone.
And I finally got some Magnet and Sivert Høyem. Yay! New music! What's more, Blogger had learned Norwegian. So cool. Of course, I pretty much know most of the new words by knowing their position in the layout rather than really thinking about what they mean and understanding them, but that way I can leave them på norsk and get used to them. Now that I am leaving in 5 weeks...***
*Both of my exams are take-home exams, which means that they are 6-8 page essays. At least, the first one is and I assume the second one will be as well.
**The British are free to argue with this and say that I am actually a native American speaker, but it amounts to the same thing. Though not to be confused with a Native American. It all gets rather complicated, doesn't it?
***Blogger switched me to Norwegian automatically. Otherwise I would have missed out on this delightful new feature.
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
Showing posts with label music. Show all posts
20.4.07
14.4.07
voi vittu
mobil ringer.
-du arbeider i dag.
-nei, det gjøre jeg ikke. navnet mitt var ikke ned for i dag.
-jo, det står egentlig her.
får melding. skrev du ned til å arbeide i dag. var det en feil?
sender melding. jeg kommer nå.
stikker inn matbutikken. kjøper banan og melk. skal trenge det...
ankommer.
gjør noe.
vent.
vent.
deler matpakken med venninna.
vent.
vent.
vent.
banden kommer seint.
flytter noen ting.
vent.
vent.
gjør noe.
vent.
vent.
vent.
forandrer noe som var gjort tidligere.
klager.
vent.
vent.
-hva vil du drikke i kveld?
-øl.
-samme.
går hjem.
spiser noe. blir mindre sur.
prøver å gjøre noe arbeid på oppgaver.
skal tilbake seinere.
står foran scene.
elsker ørepropper.
nedrigging.
vent.
får øl. har crewmøte.
sover seint i morgen.
-du arbeider i dag.
-nei, det gjøre jeg ikke. navnet mitt var ikke ned for i dag.
-jo, det står egentlig her.
får melding. skrev du ned til å arbeide i dag. var det en feil?
sender melding. jeg kommer nå.
stikker inn matbutikken. kjøper banan og melk. skal trenge det...
ankommer.
gjør noe.
vent.
vent.
deler matpakken med venninna.
vent.
vent.
vent.
banden kommer seint.
flytter noen ting.
vent.
vent.
gjør noe.
vent.
vent.
vent.
forandrer noe som var gjort tidligere.
klager.
vent.
vent.
-hva vil du drikke i kveld?
-øl.
-samme.
går hjem.
spiser noe. blir mindre sur.
prøver å gjøre noe arbeid på oppgaver.
skal tilbake seinere.
står foran scene.
elsker ørepropper.
nedrigging.
vent.
får øl. har crewmøte.
sover seint i morgen.
5.4.07
Sami Children's Easter Show
I occasionally watch children's programming not because it is intrinsically interesting – because let's face it, nothing will ever be as good as the Muppet Show – but out of an interest in the cultural education provided to children through television. Thus, children's programming is interesting in an "I'm really geeky" sort of way.* So when I was taking a break from my thesis writing with a spot of television about the life of Roald Dahl, the Sami Children's Easter program followed and I had to stay tuned. Thankfully, it was short, because it brought about two rather conflicting responses in me. The first was that it wasn't just cheesy, it was rather painfully dreadful. This is not to say that I don't think Sami people can make good programming. It's that, in a land of low-budget programming, this was really low budget, reflecting more on the Norwegian government's spending on this sort of programming than on the creativity or talents of the show's creators.** After all, there is a delicate balance between creating programming that is interesting to young children and builds their self-esteem by praising the general talent-levels of the audience without being patronizing. I've also watched single episodes of children's programming with significantly higher budgets which seem to be aimed at the same age group – Barney or Elmo-generation Sesame Street – and can say from these experiences that they are only marginally better.*** One can only pity parents who are exposed to this sort of thing on a daily basis for what one must hope is no more than a couple years. I suspect that if I get kids my favorite age for them will be once they are old enough to have a twisted sense of humor, but before they start smoking weed and generally being prats.
Back to the Easter program, the other response was of a more positive note. This was a Sami language program being broadcast nationally, though I'll grant this was on a state-owned channel and as special programming rather than regular scheduling. Really though, how many Sami children speaking a Sami language are there living in Telemark right now? While the show presented silly antics, as does any children's program, it also featured Sami kids playing in a rock band (where they sang in English, but that is another matter as many a Norwegian rock band of any cultural background choose English for their lyrics) and a young girl joiking.**** In a country where assimilation efforts tried to wipe out the Sami language, joiking was demonized and the type of drum that the girl was playing was collected by authorities and burned, this is still rather remarkable. It is remarkable, not least, because it demonstrates that the language is still actively being used and laws passed in the 1990s (oh, so long ago) are not merely politically correct window dressing. In order for such a program to be made and aired, there must be people who speak the language and in this case children who speak the language to participate in the staging of the program, and there must be children who understand the language that would be an audience for the program, not across the nation, but at least in parts of the country. This might seem self-evident to Norwegians, but without having traveled to Sami-speaking parts of the country a visitor can remain quite unaware of this official, though minority, language of Norway. It is probably also true of the program, that it is as much about keeping Sami language in active use as it is about the language actually being in active use.
*I personally prefer the word geek even though I'm such a nerd that I know that the more appropriate appellation would be nerd. Nerd, having the meaning of someone who is socially handicapped by their desire to know entirely too much information and the need to then disseminate that information to people who couldn't care less. For some reason, I prefer the old definition of "scary carny that bites the heads off of small animals" that the word geek carries, while still marking the bearer of the name as "incapable of being elected homecoming queen and thus in the same social circle as nerds" by contemporary usage.
**I have to add this contradictory statement, because I've recently discovered The Receptionist's YouTube shorts, and if there is anything more low-budget than a man with his work computer's built in camera, lots of construction paper, and the occasional use of ketchup-blood, I don't know what is. Yet, Mr. Betz creates some really bizarre and entertaining shorts, though admittedly entirely inappropriate for young children. Among other things he fantasizes in verse and graphic detail about being President Lincoln with foreknowledge of his own murder and about cannibalism on the Oregon Trail. Note that I said it's inappropriate for young children. Ten-year-olds would love this stuff, though their mums might not like his use of the word "fucker."
***Also, in sharp contrast to my peers, I never liked Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood. I did watch it occasionally as a child, but more out of rebellion than enjoyment. My mum had banned it along with Pee Wee's Playhouse from out television selection, as I remember it, because she found the hosts of these programs sort of creepy. And I don't care what anyone has to say about what a wonderful man Mr. Rogers really was, because I found him to be disturbingly "nice" and creepy too. I will, however, agree that it wasn't really a bad show, and it gave kids some degree of insight into kid-interesting things like balloon factories and cake, as well as how to be a decent person on a daily basis. A creepily nice person, but decent all the same. I do, however, think Blue's Clues is a good show for kids. At least, I did back when they still had Steve on the program, before the Steve as muder-victim on Law & Order controversy, when Blue was still a girl. It appealed to my feminism, Blue being a female and thus breaking the gender-color stereotyping of all things blue being for boys and all things girl being pink. And it had puzzles, and I approve of puzzles.
****On the unlikely chance that anyone reading this is not my mum or well versed in Sami culture, this would be a traditional singing style not unlike some Native American chanting traditions.
Back to the Easter program, the other response was of a more positive note. This was a Sami language program being broadcast nationally, though I'll grant this was on a state-owned channel and as special programming rather than regular scheduling. Really though, how many Sami children speaking a Sami language are there living in Telemark right now? While the show presented silly antics, as does any children's program, it also featured Sami kids playing in a rock band (where they sang in English, but that is another matter as many a Norwegian rock band of any cultural background choose English for their lyrics) and a young girl joiking.**** In a country where assimilation efforts tried to wipe out the Sami language, joiking was demonized and the type of drum that the girl was playing was collected by authorities and burned, this is still rather remarkable. It is remarkable, not least, because it demonstrates that the language is still actively being used and laws passed in the 1990s (oh, so long ago) are not merely politically correct window dressing. In order for such a program to be made and aired, there must be people who speak the language and in this case children who speak the language to participate in the staging of the program, and there must be children who understand the language that would be an audience for the program, not across the nation, but at least in parts of the country. This might seem self-evident to Norwegians, but without having traveled to Sami-speaking parts of the country a visitor can remain quite unaware of this official, though minority, language of Norway. It is probably also true of the program, that it is as much about keeping Sami language in active use as it is about the language actually being in active use.
*I personally prefer the word geek even though I'm such a nerd that I know that the more appropriate appellation would be nerd. Nerd, having the meaning of someone who is socially handicapped by their desire to know entirely too much information and the need to then disseminate that information to people who couldn't care less. For some reason, I prefer the old definition of "scary carny that bites the heads off of small animals" that the word geek carries, while still marking the bearer of the name as "incapable of being elected homecoming queen and thus in the same social circle as nerds" by contemporary usage.
**I have to add this contradictory statement, because I've recently discovered The Receptionist's YouTube shorts, and if there is anything more low-budget than a man with his work computer's built in camera, lots of construction paper, and the occasional use of ketchup-blood, I don't know what is. Yet, Mr. Betz creates some really bizarre and entertaining shorts, though admittedly entirely inappropriate for young children. Among other things he fantasizes in verse and graphic detail about being President Lincoln with foreknowledge of his own murder and about cannibalism on the Oregon Trail. Note that I said it's inappropriate for young children. Ten-year-olds would love this stuff, though their mums might not like his use of the word "fucker."
***Also, in sharp contrast to my peers, I never liked Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood. I did watch it occasionally as a child, but more out of rebellion than enjoyment. My mum had banned it along with Pee Wee's Playhouse from out television selection, as I remember it, because she found the hosts of these programs sort of creepy. And I don't care what anyone has to say about what a wonderful man Mr. Rogers really was, because I found him to be disturbingly "nice" and creepy too. I will, however, agree that it wasn't really a bad show, and it gave kids some degree of insight into kid-interesting things like balloon factories and cake, as well as how to be a decent person on a daily basis. A creepily nice person, but decent all the same. I do, however, think Blue's Clues is a good show for kids. At least, I did back when they still had Steve on the program, before the Steve as muder-victim on Law & Order controversy, when Blue was still a girl. It appealed to my feminism, Blue being a female and thus breaking the gender-color stereotyping of all things blue being for boys and all things girl being pink. And it had puzzles, and I approve of puzzles.
****On the unlikely chance that anyone reading this is not my mum or well versed in Sami culture, this would be a traditional singing style not unlike some Native American chanting traditions.
23.3.07
Shoegazing
The show last night was billed as "Andrew Bird full band show", and after listening to things about SxSW I thought that “full band” might mean that the new guitarist, Jeremy Ylvisaker, might be along. But no. Full band meant Dosh. But Dosh does mean band. I was standing 6 to 8 feet away from Mr. Bird for the concert, and in a perfect position to see what both of them were doing and where Mr. Dosh was looking. The man has to pay a particular amount of attention to what Mr. Bird is doing at any moment. When Dosh is playing by himself he is completely concentrated on what he alone is doing. It doesn't seem that he particularly notes his audience and he doesn't have anyone else to match himself to. When he is playing with Mr. Bird, his is still entirely focused on the music, but then he's watching Bird's shoes, literally, timing his own samples to those of the leader. Bird seems to remain almost entirely internally focused, but being to the side of the stage and very close rather than in the audience center, it was hard to tell if he was actually looking into the crowd or out over their heads.
Another note, one could really tell what had been in the line up for a while, and what was newly added with the new album. Bird forgot his lyrics to Heretics and probably cut the song short and had seemed to repeat a chorus of Armchair Apocrypha until he remembered where he was in the song. However, he is so charming that his audience cheers him enthusiastically even when he's very obviously screwed up. That is charisma. But while Bird is trying to remember his lyrics Mr. Dosh is not just matching his drumming to the front man, but his various samples recorded as the song began. Mr. Bird is brilliant, but Mr. Dosh is truly amazing.
Also, while I would have loved to buy the new album, and even would have paid up to $5 over the store price, I couldn't see my way clear to paying over twice the American charge. I was... shocked. I was shocked to see a CD selling for £15.
Another note, one could really tell what had been in the line up for a while, and what was newly added with the new album. Bird forgot his lyrics to Heretics and probably cut the song short and had seemed to repeat a chorus of Armchair Apocrypha until he remembered where he was in the song. However, he is so charming that his audience cheers him enthusiastically even when he's very obviously screwed up. That is charisma. But while Bird is trying to remember his lyrics Mr. Dosh is not just matching his drumming to the front man, but his various samples recorded as the song began. Mr. Bird is brilliant, but Mr. Dosh is truly amazing.
Also, while I would have loved to buy the new album, and even would have paid up to $5 over the store price, I couldn't see my way clear to paying over twice the American charge. I was... shocked. I was shocked to see a CD selling for £15.
15.3.07
bedre under tvang
I should not have had a cup of coffee this afternoon. I've been having this outrageously early bedtime working for me recently that involves me getting up early and doing things. Today, for example, I cleaned. Not just the vacuuming that I did last time, but actually finding space on my desk and a few things that I had lost there. This doesn't always mean that I am subsequently especially effective at going on things I really need to do. I would argue though, I really did need a new alarm clock playlist.* Okay, maybe I've been waking up on my own before the alarm goes off. I still hear and Adam Arcuragi is really starting to grate my nerves. Nice enough, but I don't think I've changed my playlist for a couple months now. You can only hear the same songs every morning for so long. And it takes time to make a really good playlist.
So now I can't sleep. But, it was offered. A nice dinner with friends, sharing some music, a cup of coffee. What could the harm be? Only that the caffeine would combine with my natural anxiety over, well, nearly everything. I'm not really freaking out over anything. I just can't sleep. So instead I'm thinking about how much I have to get done, how much I miss friends back home, and how much I'm going to miss everything here in a couple months. It doesn't help that I've been realizing that the last show I work at Kroa might be the Transistor show on Saturday. There are other shows I'd rather see as my last job than metal.
On top of this, another friend forced me to use my Norwegian today because it won't be that much longer before I'm going back to the states, rarely to speak Norwegian again. This is undoubtedly good for me. She's right for one thing, and most of my friends are English majors, hence they tend to like speaking English with me. I'm educational. What's more, despite some gaffs now and then, and using English grammar with Norwegian words sometimes, I don't do that bad in my second language. And I'm better under a little pressure. To be perfectly clear about this, it isn't that I am better at getting the pronunciation and grammar correct when the stakes are higher, it's that I tend to rebel against speaking Norwegian a lot of the time. Everyone here can speak English, most of them pretty well or nearly excellent.** However, in the few instances when friends refuse to speak to me in English, I get there. Another happy point, I seem to be getting better at reading comprehension as well. I'll admit though, this might just be because we are getting into increasingly contemporary writing in my Norwegian literature class. There is a big difference between trying to read from Kristin Lavransdatter and Uke 43.
So after lots of tossing and turning, a practice run at packing to cross back over the ocean, a short essay on language laziness, and some music surfing... once more into the breach! Sleep, you shall be mine.
*Oh my beloved iPod and computer speakers, they are the best alarm I've ever had.
**I think this is one of the reasons that I get so annoyed every time a lecturer apologizes for his or her English. Seriously, it's fine, and we could be getting on with the educational part already.
***I can't think of an aesthetically pleasing place to put this, but practice packing seems to indicate a very smooth return. Granted, I'm not taking all of my clothes home with me, and some of the things I brought from the states are toiletry consumables (not to be confused with ingestables), but I'm suspicious of this. I might have to do a new practice packing project where I don't just pack most things and guess on some others, because everything is fitting into my duffle and a backpack with room to spare right now.
So now I can't sleep. But, it was offered. A nice dinner with friends, sharing some music, a cup of coffee. What could the harm be? Only that the caffeine would combine with my natural anxiety over, well, nearly everything. I'm not really freaking out over anything. I just can't sleep. So instead I'm thinking about how much I have to get done, how much I miss friends back home, and how much I'm going to miss everything here in a couple months. It doesn't help that I've been realizing that the last show I work at Kroa might be the Transistor show on Saturday. There are other shows I'd rather see as my last job than metal.
On top of this, another friend forced me to use my Norwegian today because it won't be that much longer before I'm going back to the states, rarely to speak Norwegian again. This is undoubtedly good for me. She's right for one thing, and most of my friends are English majors, hence they tend to like speaking English with me. I'm educational. What's more, despite some gaffs now and then, and using English grammar with Norwegian words sometimes, I don't do that bad in my second language. And I'm better under a little pressure. To be perfectly clear about this, it isn't that I am better at getting the pronunciation and grammar correct when the stakes are higher, it's that I tend to rebel against speaking Norwegian a lot of the time. Everyone here can speak English, most of them pretty well or nearly excellent.** However, in the few instances when friends refuse to speak to me in English, I get there. Another happy point, I seem to be getting better at reading comprehension as well. I'll admit though, this might just be because we are getting into increasingly contemporary writing in my Norwegian literature class. There is a big difference between trying to read from Kristin Lavransdatter and Uke 43.
So after lots of tossing and turning, a practice run at packing to cross back over the ocean, a short essay on language laziness, and some music surfing... once more into the breach! Sleep, you shall be mine.
*Oh my beloved iPod and computer speakers, they are the best alarm I've ever had.
**I think this is one of the reasons that I get so annoyed every time a lecturer apologizes for his or her English. Seriously, it's fine, and we could be getting on with the educational part already.
***I can't think of an aesthetically pleasing place to put this, but practice packing seems to indicate a very smooth return. Granted, I'm not taking all of my clothes home with me, and some of the things I brought from the states are toiletry consumables (not to be confused with ingestables), but I'm suspicious of this. I might have to do a new practice packing project where I don't just pack most things and guess on some others, because everything is fitting into my duffle and a backpack with room to spare right now.
12.3.07
Han lo av, ikke lå på meg
One of the guys that I work with has decided that he will only speak to me in Norwegian. He had the idea that this annoys me. When I asked him a question very early Sunday morning in English he answered in kind, realized that he was now speaking to me in English, but then continued to do so until we were finished taking everything down from the night's disco.* When I finally told him "på norsk" he was apparently somewhat surprised, and commented on it later during the nachspiel.
So that was the back story. Today, while I was talking to a friend about language I tried to say "han lo av meg da jeg fortalte han å snakke norsk" (he laughed at me when I told him to speak Norwegian). However, prepositions and proper pronunciation can be difficult sometimes and what I actually said was "han lå på meg..." (he lay on me...).
I had a rather difficult evening for speaking properly in Norwegian, so when I screwed up again during our singing class I said to her "han lå på meg" and we started laughing, she told the class about it, and our teacher gave me this Danish song:**
Bitte mette, bitte mette,
Får jeg ligge overpå, åh
Bitte mette, bitte mette,
Får jeg ligge overpå?
Ja det får du, ja det får du,
Du får ligge overpå, åh
Ja det får du, ja det får du,
Du får ligge overpå.
*I asked in English because I couldn't remember how to say, "Should I take the filters apart?" in Norwegian. It was probably about 0400 or 0430 and I think I should be excused from forgetting that "the filters" in Norwegian should be "filtrene."
**The words were already translated from Danish to Norwegian, and in English are roughly, "May I lay on top of you? Yes, you may do that."
So that was the back story. Today, while I was talking to a friend about language I tried to say "han lo av meg da jeg fortalte han å snakke norsk" (he laughed at me when I told him to speak Norwegian). However, prepositions and proper pronunciation can be difficult sometimes and what I actually said was "han lå på meg..." (he lay on me...).
I had a rather difficult evening for speaking properly in Norwegian, so when I screwed up again during our singing class I said to her "han lå på meg" and we started laughing, she told the class about it, and our teacher gave me this Danish song:**
Bitte mette, bitte mette,
Får jeg ligge overpå, åh
Bitte mette, bitte mette,
Får jeg ligge overpå?
Ja det får du, ja det får du,
Du får ligge overpå, åh
Ja det får du, ja det får du,
Du får ligge overpå.
*I asked in English because I couldn't remember how to say, "Should I take the filters apart?" in Norwegian. It was probably about 0400 or 0430 and I think I should be excused from forgetting that "the filters" in Norwegian should be "filtrene."
**The words were already translated from Danish to Norwegian, and in English are roughly, "May I lay on top of you? Yes, you may do that."
28.1.07
"du tjente det"
Last night was an 80s party at Kroa. I new there was something I didn't like about the 80s, and now I know precisely what it is. It's not the coke habits or the bad music.* No, I hate the clean-up from the 80s. They had a cover band called the Poodles and pyrotechnics. And confetti. It friggin' sucks to try to get smooth bits of mylar off of a slightly damp stage. Also, the band didn't come take care of their instruments immediately. No, they went off to drink first. I don't think they even got their drums taken down last night. We had to move the drum kit to take down the risers underneath it.
Even more exciting, while there should have been four teknisk crew plus the two teknisk leaders, I was the only crew member who actually worked. It really wasn't that bad. It took a while to get things taken down and all, but okay really. It just sucked that I didn't have anyone to drive me home afterward. I've gotten a little spoiled by working with guys with cars most of the times that I've worked. Knowing that Kroa was going to get fairly hot from the large crowd, I had on Converse instead of my boots. I'm just glad I brought along some woolen socks for the walking part. I got home at 0530, and then got up again at 0930. I had suggested brunch to the Americans, and wanted to get a tasty cinnamon kringle made at something resembling morning. Scrambled eggs, cinnamon breakfast bread, and a discussion of our potential group trip to London in February was very pleasant. We also got to share the gossip of the night before. Of course, I'm already booked to go to London for a week by myself three weeks later, but it would be nice to travel with a group for once.
On another happy note, I got a tip from someone last night. He was coming in and out of the security fencing in front of the stage several times and the last time he came in with a beer he gave me the change in a handshake as a tip. When I started laughing he told me "You earned it."
*There are only two especially 80s songs that I really like. While the DJ did play "Take On Me" while we were cleaning up, I resent that they didn't play "Tainted Love".
Even more exciting, while there should have been four teknisk crew plus the two teknisk leaders, I was the only crew member who actually worked. It really wasn't that bad. It took a while to get things taken down and all, but okay really. It just sucked that I didn't have anyone to drive me home afterward. I've gotten a little spoiled by working with guys with cars most of the times that I've worked. Knowing that Kroa was going to get fairly hot from the large crowd, I had on Converse instead of my boots. I'm just glad I brought along some woolen socks for the walking part. I got home at 0530, and then got up again at 0930. I had suggested brunch to the Americans, and wanted to get a tasty cinnamon kringle made at something resembling morning. Scrambled eggs, cinnamon breakfast bread, and a discussion of our potential group trip to London in February was very pleasant. We also got to share the gossip of the night before. Of course, I'm already booked to go to London for a week by myself three weeks later, but it would be nice to travel with a group for once.
On another happy note, I got a tip from someone last night. He was coming in and out of the security fencing in front of the stage several times and the last time he came in with a beer he gave me the change in a handshake as a tip. When I started laughing he told me "You earned it."
*There are only two especially 80s songs that I really like. While the DJ did play "Take On Me" while we were cleaning up, I resent that they didn't play "Tainted Love".
1.12.06
kiitos paljon
Last night was "Frigg: thesis concert 2, or I go and have a fun night out and call it school work, continued." I like Finnish fiddle music, but it's a bit circular I don't always get into it as much as other things. The audience continued to be predominantly young, though I did enjoy seeing a couple of grannies at a close table. And I had friends who saved me a seat. Yay friends.
Starting to read Fiddling For Norway, I was thinking about the changes that folk music underwent in this country since religious movements began to associate fiddling and dancing with sin. Fiddlers either set aside or destroyed their fiddles, or they began disassociating their music from dancing and moving into concert performance. Fiddling for an attentive audience rather than active dancers meant that they could start increasing the artistic flourishes and reflect an understanding of classical training. Without dancers the music got more complicated. So what does the pietist movement in Norway have to do with Finnish fiddles? Well, I'm not as familiar with religious movements in Finland, but it seems logical that if there was such a reactionary sin-hunting movement in Finland there might have been something similar in Finland. I don't know. What I do know is that Finnish folk musicians are trained in a folk department at the Sibelius Academy, Finland's only school for higher education in music. I'm wondering if the virtuoso fiddling of Finland is heavily influenced by this formal education, or how far back the complicated fiddling styles go in Finland.
Less academic: I had an easier time understanding the band this time. For starts, the Finnish guys spoke English. I was rather surprised, as I had expected that they would know Swedish. It is an official language of Finland, and Swedish is close enough to Norwegian that the Norwegian audience would be able to understand it. Perhaps they do know Swedish, but are not as comfortable using it, and as an internationally touring band, it might serve them better to be well versed in English instead of Swedish. I did understand the Finnish that they used too, though it was limited to "Terve, tuolla." and "Kiitos paljon." "Hi there" and "thanks a lot" respectively. There was also a string of curses or some other random muttering that I missed, because I didn't hear it clearly. He was changing a broken string and not really talking to the audience, though to be honest, I probably would not have understood anyway. What did really please me, is that I had an easier time understanding the Norwegian spoken. My friend says that I am getting better at conversing in Norwegian, and she is doubtless correct, but as far as differences between the first show and the second, Harv speaks Swedish.
Starting to read Fiddling For Norway, I was thinking about the changes that folk music underwent in this country since religious movements began to associate fiddling and dancing with sin. Fiddlers either set aside or destroyed their fiddles, or they began disassociating their music from dancing and moving into concert performance. Fiddling for an attentive audience rather than active dancers meant that they could start increasing the artistic flourishes and reflect an understanding of classical training. Without dancers the music got more complicated. So what does the pietist movement in Norway have to do with Finnish fiddles? Well, I'm not as familiar with religious movements in Finland, but it seems logical that if there was such a reactionary sin-hunting movement in Finland there might have been something similar in Finland. I don't know. What I do know is that Finnish folk musicians are trained in a folk department at the Sibelius Academy, Finland's only school for higher education in music. I'm wondering if the virtuoso fiddling of Finland is heavily influenced by this formal education, or how far back the complicated fiddling styles go in Finland.
Less academic: I had an easier time understanding the band this time. For starts, the Finnish guys spoke English. I was rather surprised, as I had expected that they would know Swedish. It is an official language of Finland, and Swedish is close enough to Norwegian that the Norwegian audience would be able to understand it. Perhaps they do know Swedish, but are not as comfortable using it, and as an internationally touring band, it might serve them better to be well versed in English instead of Swedish. I did understand the Finnish that they used too, though it was limited to "Terve, tuolla." and "Kiitos paljon." "Hi there" and "thanks a lot" respectively. There was also a string of curses or some other random muttering that I missed, because I didn't hear it clearly. He was changing a broken string and not really talking to the audience, though to be honest, I probably would not have understood anyway. What did really please me, is that I had an easier time understanding the Norwegian spoken. My friend says that I am getting better at conversing in Norwegian, and she is doubtless correct, but as far as differences between the first show and the second, Harv speaks Swedish.
26.11.06
professionals
You might call them the Rolling Stones of Norway, except they are not known outside of the country (or at least Scandinavia). Norwegian popular music can be divided into two broad categories – those with English lyrics and those who sing in Norwegian. Those who sing in English – A-ha comes to mind – do so to achieve success outside of the Scandinavian countries. Most of them don't. Also, singing in English seems to make bands slightly less popular with Norwegians. Admitting the very strong limitations to my observational opportunities, it seems that the crowds are larger and more responsive to bands that sing in Norwegian. The effects have several variables to be weighed against, quite obviously. This is a small town, and I don't know how audiences in the larger cities respond to the Norwegian/English lyrics. At the same time, most of Norway is small towns and Bø does have a mix of students from all over Norway. My dorm mates alone represent southern, northern, and Bergen dialects.
Whether it is the language, the country rock, or some other mysterious quality that makes these granddaddies rock, Hellbillies are professionals. They don't just bring their instruments and some stage effects – a few extra lights or a toy monkey for example. No, these boys bring all their own lights, cables, stage risers for the piano man and drummer, monitors, build-your-own speakers and subwoofers, light and sound boards! Which meant that we had to unload and assemble all this stuff. Then we got to take it all down, load it back up, and get our own speakers hung back up. By the end of the night my cousin's belly hurt because it just wanted to be lying down already. The end of the night came at 5, and I have not been able to get to sleep before 2 the whole week since.
Whether it is the language, the country rock, or some other mysterious quality that makes these granddaddies rock, Hellbillies are professionals. They don't just bring their instruments and some stage effects – a few extra lights or a toy monkey for example. No, these boys bring all their own lights, cables, stage risers for the piano man and drummer, monitors, build-your-own speakers and subwoofers, light and sound boards! Which meant that we had to unload and assemble all this stuff. Then we got to take it all down, load it back up, and get our own speakers hung back up. By the end of the night my cousin's belly hurt because it just wanted to be lying down already. The end of the night came at 5, and I have not been able to get to sleep before 2 the whole week since.
14.11.06
sometimes I want to be somewhere else
I spent six and a half hours rigging up for a disco at Kroa on Friday. This was a large event with a DJ from Oslo coming in for two shows, Friday with a 16+ age limit, and Saturday with 18+.* The rigging was fun because I got to work with friends for the first time, but the disco doesn't appeal to me, so I wistfully looked up some venues far from Bø that would have some shows that I might like to go to. The closest of these is Mono down in Oslo. Mono seems to have an indie clientele, evidenced by the Camera Obscura show last month, and a show I would have enjoyed much more than my actual Saturday night activities.** They had a freakishly early in the evening free show with The Wombats.*** While I can't say they are a great band they seem like they have potential to at least be fun live. Though really, a show that starts at 6? What the frigg?
Mono is one of the reasons that I really miss living in a city. Specialized venues and large libraries. Oh, I will never be a country girl. But while I was checking out the upcoming events at Mono I also read some of their other news.
*I have been told that the vakt people love the 16+ nights because they get to search bags and take things away from people.
**After Saturday night at a dance party up in Breisås 1, I have a new strategy for preserving my dignity. It involves not going to dance parties.
***Thank you NRK Urørt podcasts.
Mono is one of the reasons that I really miss living in a city. Specialized venues and large libraries. Oh, I will never be a country girl. But while I was checking out the upcoming events at Mono I also read some of their other news.
MONO HAR FÅTT UTESERVERING TIL KL. TRE!Mono has just gotten permission to serve drinks outside after midnight as they have just had their position in the city upgraded to 'located in the city center.' From inference, Oslo doesn't allow bars to serve their back gardens, aka side alleys with tables, after midnight even though they stay open until 3. At least, not outside of the central area. Seeing as Mono is a short walk from Karl Johans Gate and the central train station I don't see how Mono wasn't considered part of the city center before, but not living there I suppose I can't be expected to understand local politics. This seemingly random piece of information has me thinking about some of the other seemingly insignificant points. Coming from Madison with its recently established smoking ban in bars the similar ban in Norway hardly makes me blink, but remembering my bartender in Charlotte lighting up a smoke between pouring drinks I realize how non-universal this is. The airport in Frankfurt has smoking stations indoors. Oh my.
Jepp, nå blir du ikke jaget inn ved midnatt hvis du vil nyte en sigarett til ett glass eller sju, eeeendelig har Mono også blitt en del av sentrum og vi får lov til å servere alkohol i bakgården til kl. 03.00. Takk til politikerne i byrådet som gjorde det mulig.
*I have been told that the vakt people love the 16+ nights because they get to search bags and take things away from people.
**After Saturday night at a dance party up in Breisås 1, I have a new strategy for preserving my dignity. It involves not going to dance parties.
***Thank you NRK Urørt podcasts.
2.11.06
abuse of power
I have bad parents. Most people, upon meeting my parents, would not realize how terrible they really are. Meeting my mum and pop, one might think that they were nice, funny, possibly even cute. The mistake has been made before. But as I was listening to Yat-Kha while trying to fall asleep tonight (you see how well that is going), I started thinking about how neat Tuva is. Here is this really unique singing style from an area that was an independent country for no more that a couple decades. The only way one would even know they were a country is the postage stamps. But there is a great pride in the regional identity. And I think this sort of thing is interesting and think other people should want to know this sort of information too. This is all my parents fault. It can't just be blamed on my own nature. They did it to my sister too. I also know a disturbing amount about NYC rats, despite not having been to new york. I think books on Louis Pasteur make good bedtime literature. Two of my favorite books are about fish. The social histories of cod and shad. I think it is really neat to know why John "Appleseed" Chapman really planted all those trees. So it isn't exactly child abuse, but they have obviously abused their position as parents to instill a profound curiosity about the world and a desire to share this curiosity with people who don't give a damn.
1.11.06
archives
I was lucky to acquire a diverse music collection while I was living in Madison. The city is pretty music rich given its size, and I didn't really have the time and attention to focus on everything I collected. Since I've come to Norway my resources have been severely restricted, so I've been going back and listening to some of the things that I may have listened to once and forgotten or gathered for sociological/historical purposes. In the former group is The Sea and Cake. I forget how much I like their sometimes jazzy, sometimes electronic pop sound. In the latter group, The Rolling Stones. One of my library guys who always came in for the a/v stuff recommended that I get my education up with Aftermath when I told him I was writing a sociology paper on post-punk music scenes. I like "Paint it Black", but everything else on the album just makes me snicker.
13.10.06
permission to laugh
Humor requires a mutual understanding. An understanding that, even when people can speak the same language, it can be hard to establish. Sometimes it is cultural reference points. Sometimes it is an understanding between the parties that it is okay to laugh at language mistakes. It is absolutely essential to my mental health that I laugh, truly and deeply. The kind of laughter that bubbles up from your soul, like a popped bottle of champagne. I've been getting stressed out over various things recently, mostly the intense amount of work that I have to get done. I was having a crisis. Completely crisis girl. But yesterday I was studying in the kantina, starting to read up on identity theory again, and get all those sociology words working in my head again. I was not enjoying this. But then one of my Norwegian classmates saw me and came over to talk. She was post oral examing. This would mean giddy. She was giddy, getting over the anxiety that an exam in practical english can induce in a person. This was excellent. There was a great amount of giggling. I needed giggling. It also led to my having someone to go to a concert with. The concert was for part of my thesis research. Really. I shouldn't be dreading working on schoolwork so much when part of it means going to concerts. How much more awesome does studying get?
So I went to see Harv play at Grillen last night. As part of my thesis/sociological observations. The concert drew a relatively large crowd, but I'm not sure how many, because I'm really bad at estimating things like that. It is possible that I can get an accurate head count from the concert organizers. I spoke to them briefly at a table in the school on Wednesday, and they thought it was cool enough that I'm here in Bø that they introduced me to the band. Sweet. I got to shake the hand of Magnus Stinnerbom. He's played with Hedningarna. Though Harv has been getting more interesting in recent years too. And it makes a difference to see a show in a Scandinavian country. There are jokes based on cultural reference points that they can tell. I'm guessing that there were about 50 people in attendance; probably more than half of them were between 20 and 30-ish. And so far as I could tell, everyone was really into it. Two of the Danes I've met here even danced. They were good dancers too. The band sang a song well known to all Norwegians, though I didn't get it, my classmate should be able to explain it to me a little better. It was a really fun tune at any rate. I'd like to learn it. They were also telling jokes about Norwegian dialects, actually speaking in the dialects. The crowd really enjoyed this, and most surprising of all to me, they demanded two encores, and got them. Both aspects of this surprised me. And awed me. Of course, they were selling their cds, but because I'm on the NorthSide buyer's service, I already had the disks. The exact same disks. I don't understand completely why the band would be selling NorthSide cds in Norway, but they were. So I didn't buy a cd, and thus I didn't get a signed cd out of the evening. Instead I loaned my classmate 150 kroner so that she could get a cd to have signed. But she didn't get introduced to the band.
After the show there was much laughter and joking with my classmate. We discussed making her my Norwegian cousin, because her family is from a place about two hours away from the area that my great grandmother emigrated from, and I don't know my Norwegian family. Also, the job coordinator from Kroa was there, skipping the fattigmannsdisco to see Harv, but she had to go back to work afterward. And I met a couple of my classmate's friends, who dragged us over to the Bull Inn (O'Bulligans as we Americans have renamed it), for a final drink for them, and some water for us. On the way back home, back to climb up our kjempe big hill (or small portion of a mountain), we saw the Danes still sitting outside Grillen talking. They hailed me as we went past. It was nice. Vennelig, koselig, deilig.
So I went to see Harv play at Grillen last night. As part of my thesis/sociological observations. The concert drew a relatively large crowd, but I'm not sure how many, because I'm really bad at estimating things like that. It is possible that I can get an accurate head count from the concert organizers. I spoke to them briefly at a table in the school on Wednesday, and they thought it was cool enough that I'm here in Bø that they introduced me to the band. Sweet. I got to shake the hand of Magnus Stinnerbom. He's played with Hedningarna. Though Harv has been getting more interesting in recent years too. And it makes a difference to see a show in a Scandinavian country. There are jokes based on cultural reference points that they can tell. I'm guessing that there were about 50 people in attendance; probably more than half of them were between 20 and 30-ish. And so far as I could tell, everyone was really into it. Two of the Danes I've met here even danced. They were good dancers too. The band sang a song well known to all Norwegians, though I didn't get it, my classmate should be able to explain it to me a little better. It was a really fun tune at any rate. I'd like to learn it. They were also telling jokes about Norwegian dialects, actually speaking in the dialects. The crowd really enjoyed this, and most surprising of all to me, they demanded two encores, and got them. Both aspects of this surprised me. And awed me. Of course, they were selling their cds, but because I'm on the NorthSide buyer's service, I already had the disks. The exact same disks. I don't understand completely why the band would be selling NorthSide cds in Norway, but they were. So I didn't buy a cd, and thus I didn't get a signed cd out of the evening. Instead I loaned my classmate 150 kroner so that she could get a cd to have signed. But she didn't get introduced to the band.
After the show there was much laughter and joking with my classmate. We discussed making her my Norwegian cousin, because her family is from a place about two hours away from the area that my great grandmother emigrated from, and I don't know my Norwegian family. Also, the job coordinator from Kroa was there, skipping the fattigmannsdisco to see Harv, but she had to go back to work afterward. And I met a couple of my classmate's friends, who dragged us over to the Bull Inn (O'Bulligans as we Americans have renamed it), for a final drink for them, and some water for us. On the way back home, back to climb up our kjempe big hill (or small portion of a mountain), we saw the Danes still sitting outside Grillen talking. They hailed me as we went past. It was nice. Vennelig, koselig, deilig.
6.10.06
Norwegian Ska
First, two notes on my trip to Oslo that I forgot to mention. When I got back to Bø my Spaniard (not that I have any particular claim on her, but she's the only one that I have a class with) was walking up the hill with the Italians and one of the Latvians. She greeted me with "My Captain" which I thought very endearing. We had been on the same sailing team. The other thing, was that I got an SMS* from one of the teknisk crew at Kroa asking if I could work for him the following day, which from the time of this post is now yesterday. He had a project coming due. Despite my own duedates in the near future, I agreed to take his position, and I'm very glad I did.
Hopalong Knut is boldly Norwegian, in that they sing på norsk. Lots of bands want to appeal outside of Norway, and thus sing in English. For example, the previous show that I worked with Grand Island and Blind Archery Club. If you go off exploring Hopalong, you'll find that it is only the words that are kjempenorsk. It was a fun show to work, both because their ska sound was more interesting than the last show's light rock sound, and because the teknisk volunteers got to be more involved with setting up the stage. We were there longer, and got to see the sound check before we went home to dinner. The crowd was also more lively, so there was a bit of pushing in the front rows center, and some very drunk kids, but for the most part it went off easily, and the kids went home earlier this time I think, because teknisk crew didn't have to help with the mopping. Just took down the equipment. There was much less waiting around too, and this was with four instead of three volunteers, only one band, and I had more of a clue what I was suppose to be doing and got to it. It definately gets better as you figure things out. And I saw my friends and neighbors in the crowd having a good, not too rowdy time. All but one of them said hello to me, but I was keeping an eagle eye on the crowd and didn't really say much back. With the beloved earplugs in, I couldn't make out much of what they said anyway. Eventually, I will learn to relax and have a good time as scenevakt, but for right now I'm pleased that I didn't nearly fall asleep at my post, and that I have learned how to quickly and correctly coil cables.
*a text message. I don't know why they call them different in Europe.
Hopalong Knut is boldly Norwegian, in that they sing på norsk. Lots of bands want to appeal outside of Norway, and thus sing in English. For example, the previous show that I worked with Grand Island and Blind Archery Club. If you go off exploring Hopalong, you'll find that it is only the words that are kjempenorsk. It was a fun show to work, both because their ska sound was more interesting than the last show's light rock sound, and because the teknisk volunteers got to be more involved with setting up the stage. We were there longer, and got to see the sound check before we went home to dinner. The crowd was also more lively, so there was a bit of pushing in the front rows center, and some very drunk kids, but for the most part it went off easily, and the kids went home earlier this time I think, because teknisk crew didn't have to help with the mopping. Just took down the equipment. There was much less waiting around too, and this was with four instead of three volunteers, only one band, and I had more of a clue what I was suppose to be doing and got to it. It definately gets better as you figure things out. And I saw my friends and neighbors in the crowd having a good, not too rowdy time. All but one of them said hello to me, but I was keeping an eagle eye on the crowd and didn't really say much back. With the beloved earplugs in, I couldn't make out much of what they said anyway. Eventually, I will learn to relax and have a good time as scenevakt, but for right now I'm pleased that I didn't nearly fall asleep at my post, and that I have learned how to quickly and correctly coil cables.
*a text message. I don't know why they call them different in Europe.
5.10.06
heldig med mono
Part 2 of Oslo in October:
Oslo is not the kind of capital city that one falls in love with quickly. It's charm might reveal itself over a period of living there, and it might make a difference that I visited at a time other than the peak of tourist season. But I don't like being surrounded by tourists. I like to pretend that I am not a tourist when I visit a city. My excuse this time was that I was there to do some 'research' at the museums, and to go to a concert. Because a concert is always a legitimate reason for going somewhere, without making me feel like a 'tourist'.
It was entirely possible that I would not be able to go to the concert. Camera Obscura isn't a completely unknown band. You pop-chart-listeners sit down and be quiet. I know they are on the indie charts, but the indie audience isn't that small. After the OC indie is trendy, remember? And indie kids are so the hipsters of today. Okay, I also think that indie is music for aspergers kids. Here you have a group of kids being hipper-than-thou by knowing a vast network of information, and using it for social standing in a select group. No one outside this group has any idea what these hipsters are on about, and by knowing music that someone else doesn't know, the hipster is thus hipper than the other. This is hyperbole of course. The really hip hipsters are much more open than this. This is why they are actually hip, instead of obnoxious. The hip-hipsters are really into the content of what they listen to, either for the politics of it, the sound, or some other ephemeral aspect, and they want to be connected to others that feel the same as them, and tell the interested periphery (that would be me) about it. I knew some really cool indie kids (though I don't think they would define themselves as such) back in Madison. It sort of spoiled me. Now I'm shocked when the people I talk to don't know the major indie record labels. Or the major pop labels. But really, after Nirvana, I don't think anyone who grew up during grunge has an excuse not to know who SubPop is.
After this very long tangent, back to Oslo. Without having a very clear idea in my head of where I was staying for the night, where the club that I wanted to go to Tuesday night was, or how to get to Bygdøya, I managed really well. I spent more money than I would have liked, and only brought home a coat. I found the hostel where I had reserved a bed a few blocks away from the central train station, without very much difficulty. I found the club I wanted to find almost by accident, and they had 11 tickets left to the show that I wanted to go to when I stopped in that afternoon. Café Mono reminds me of the King Club, slightly smaller and a little dolled up. I had a beer at the show, marvelled at how early it started,* and spoke to some random Norwegian guy after the show who told me that Michigan is cool, Wisconsin is boring, and everyone from North Carolina is a snob, but he patted me on the head and said I was a good girl. And of course, as far as museums go, I found those easily enough. So I was really lucky with Oslo. I didn't even get rained on, despite it being overcast with occasional rain the whole time. So perhaps I'm being unfair to the city. And I think if I was going to school there I would like it well enough. But I still think I would be fine with leaving it at the end of the year. The one place in which I was not especially lucky was with shopping. I wanted to get a zippered hoodie and a pair of sneakers. I didn't think any of the hoodies I found were worth 200 kroner. That might be because I can't do math, and didn't realize that 200 kroner is only about $30. That's not bad for Norway, really. But if I am going to put down $30 for a hoodie, it should be cool. Like with some band I like screen printed on the back. Or some neat design that not everyone and their cousin has, and doesn't mean a damn thing anyway. Instead, I found the second hand store, Uff, and got one of those flatteringly cut wool coats in tacky 70s colors. It is dirty-white, navy, terracotta, and olive. It clashes with my newly bright blue hair, my knit hat, most of my shirts, and my everyday bag. But I love it anyway, because it some how reminds me of my Nata, who is so far away.
*10! And on time! Shocking in Norway or America. And the audience wasn't tanked. I guess that is the difference between smalltown and city Norway.
**WI is my university, NC is where I grew up.
Oslo is not the kind of capital city that one falls in love with quickly. It's charm might reveal itself over a period of living there, and it might make a difference that I visited at a time other than the peak of tourist season. But I don't like being surrounded by tourists. I like to pretend that I am not a tourist when I visit a city. My excuse this time was that I was there to do some 'research' at the museums, and to go to a concert. Because a concert is always a legitimate reason for going somewhere, without making me feel like a 'tourist'.
It was entirely possible that I would not be able to go to the concert. Camera Obscura isn't a completely unknown band. You pop-chart-listeners sit down and be quiet. I know they are on the indie charts, but the indie audience isn't that small. After the OC indie is trendy, remember? And indie kids are so the hipsters of today. Okay, I also think that indie is music for aspergers kids. Here you have a group of kids being hipper-than-thou by knowing a vast network of information, and using it for social standing in a select group. No one outside this group has any idea what these hipsters are on about, and by knowing music that someone else doesn't know, the hipster is thus hipper than the other. This is hyperbole of course. The really hip hipsters are much more open than this. This is why they are actually hip, instead of obnoxious. The hip-hipsters are really into the content of what they listen to, either for the politics of it, the sound, or some other ephemeral aspect, and they want to be connected to others that feel the same as them, and tell the interested periphery (that would be me) about it. I knew some really cool indie kids (though I don't think they would define themselves as such) back in Madison. It sort of spoiled me. Now I'm shocked when the people I talk to don't know the major indie record labels. Or the major pop labels. But really, after Nirvana, I don't think anyone who grew up during grunge has an excuse not to know who SubPop is.
After this very long tangent, back to Oslo. Without having a very clear idea in my head of where I was staying for the night, where the club that I wanted to go to Tuesday night was, or how to get to Bygdøya, I managed really well. I spent more money than I would have liked, and only brought home a coat. I found the hostel where I had reserved a bed a few blocks away from the central train station, without very much difficulty. I found the club I wanted to find almost by accident, and they had 11 tickets left to the show that I wanted to go to when I stopped in that afternoon. Café Mono reminds me of the King Club, slightly smaller and a little dolled up. I had a beer at the show, marvelled at how early it started,* and spoke to some random Norwegian guy after the show who told me that Michigan is cool, Wisconsin is boring, and everyone from North Carolina is a snob, but he patted me on the head and said I was a good girl. And of course, as far as museums go, I found those easily enough. So I was really lucky with Oslo. I didn't even get rained on, despite it being overcast with occasional rain the whole time. So perhaps I'm being unfair to the city. And I think if I was going to school there I would like it well enough. But I still think I would be fine with leaving it at the end of the year. The one place in which I was not especially lucky was with shopping. I wanted to get a zippered hoodie and a pair of sneakers. I didn't think any of the hoodies I found were worth 200 kroner. That might be because I can't do math, and didn't realize that 200 kroner is only about $30. That's not bad for Norway, really. But if I am going to put down $30 for a hoodie, it should be cool. Like with some band I like screen printed on the back. Or some neat design that not everyone and their cousin has, and doesn't mean a damn thing anyway. Instead, I found the second hand store, Uff, and got one of those flatteringly cut wool coats in tacky 70s colors. It is dirty-white, navy, terracotta, and olive. It clashes with my newly bright blue hair, my knit hat, most of my shirts, and my everyday bag. But I love it anyway, because it some how reminds me of my Nata, who is so far away.
*10! And on time! Shocking in Norway or America. And the audience wasn't tanked. I guess that is the difference between smalltown and city Norway.
**WI is my university, NC is where I grew up.
2.10.06
kvedarskurset
I've joined a singing class (kvedarskurs) as part of my thesis research. I feel childishly happy to say that I am doing "participatory observation" as part of my research. So far, this means being somewhat confused and singing norwegian dialect while not being certain that I have all the words down right. It's fun. The class consists of 13 to 15 students (not completely certain how many yet), ranging from early twenties (3 counting myself) to maybe 60s? I'm not sure how old the eldest members are. The class is informal, and is as much a social hour (make that 2.5 hours) as a class.
Having less to do with my thesis research, it is yet another example of how to interact with Norwegians. It really does help to know some of the language. After that, join things, feel okay with feeling awkward/confused, and maybe do it alone. I'm not sure if it is that I am less intimidating when I'm on my own, or if it is that I'm forced to be more open to others when I don't have someone who I can talk to easily with me.* I have it pretty easy in this class, because one of the norwegian girls from the Midwestern Texts lecture and one of the Americans that isn't here on exchange are in the class. And the one I assume to be the oldest member of the class is completely adorable and very sweet. When I asked her if she knitted her shawl she tickled me with it, which I might have taken as an invasion of my space, but found charming instead. I've completely forgotten what kind of goat it is. It's not cashmere. Something that starts with an A, I think. Very soft yarn. Apparently there is a farm near Notodden from which the fiber came. As a knitter, I find this very keen. Some how Slow Knitting doesn't carry the same effect as Slow Food, but the meaning of the latter is what I am interested in with my fibers whenever possible. This is, however, secondary to my lust for really fabulous natural fiber. I still want to get some qiviut.**
*many are shy about their english, which is still much better than my norwegian.
**qiviut is fiber from muskox, making the softest and warmest of textiles.
Having less to do with my thesis research, it is yet another example of how to interact with Norwegians. It really does help to know some of the language. After that, join things, feel okay with feeling awkward/confused, and maybe do it alone. I'm not sure if it is that I am less intimidating when I'm on my own, or if it is that I'm forced to be more open to others when I don't have someone who I can talk to easily with me.* I have it pretty easy in this class, because one of the norwegian girls from the Midwestern Texts lecture and one of the Americans that isn't here on exchange are in the class. And the one I assume to be the oldest member of the class is completely adorable and very sweet. When I asked her if she knitted her shawl she tickled me with it, which I might have taken as an invasion of my space, but found charming instead. I've completely forgotten what kind of goat it is. It's not cashmere. Something that starts with an A, I think. Very soft yarn. Apparently there is a farm near Notodden from which the fiber came. As a knitter, I find this very keen. Some how Slow Knitting doesn't carry the same effect as Slow Food, but the meaning of the latter is what I am interested in with my fibers whenever possible. This is, however, secondary to my lust for really fabulous natural fiber. I still want to get some qiviut.**
*many are shy about their english, which is still much better than my norwegian.
**qiviut is fiber from muskox, making the softest and warmest of textiles.
26.9.06
prepositions, from and for, a distinction
I did not accidentally purchase a $200 train ticket. I just got confused and excited about the idea of going to a music fest in Trondheim for significantly less than $200. by:Larm is described on the 120 Days myspace* page as a Scandinavian SxSW. Which may or may not be true, but not having been to SxSW, it is less likely that I would be disappointed if I went.
*my hatred of myspace has been mitigated by it's usefulness in looking up indie and Norwegian bands, but is not completely dissolved.
*my hatred of myspace has been mitigated by it's usefulness in looking up indie and Norwegian bands, but is not completely dissolved.
25.9.06
drinking again
I must not be too embarassing when I'm drunk, because the Norwegians still come and talk to me later. I was trying to figure out why the guy sitting next to us at vinkveld looked familiar tonight, until he and his friend moved over to talk to us. It turns out I went to a nattspill with them last Monday. The answer is, as my dansk språkelig venninne says, just go be awkward, and it will do you good. The scandinavians apparently understand being awkward, and don't think you are a loser for being uncomfortable when you meet them.
In other news, I feel like my norwegian has gotten worse since I arrived. Now, go check out Haley Bonar.
In other news, I feel like my norwegian has gotten worse since I arrived. Now, go check out Haley Bonar.
23.9.06
I got:
- A bruise on my knee from when Wisco's dorm mate tripped me while moving a monitor.
- A shirt that reads "scenevakt" (stage security) on the front and back.
- A cut on my elbow from when I hit it against a door putting said shirt on.
- To move guitars.
- Cranky. I've had insomnia for the past week. I can't get to sleep before 2 or 3, and then I wake up at 7.30 or 8. I became really tired as scenevakt, perhaps because Blind Archery Club and Grand Island don't really do much for me. Okay, they are good musicians, but their tunes don't move me. Watching the audience really enjoy themselves was good. Until it was the 'I don't want to go home' handful that were keeping us from washing the floor and getting to
- A beer.
- A ride home.
22.9.06
I really need a bike
Living up in Breisås is great, including the obnoxious hill (or portion of a mountain to be accurate about it) that I have to climb to get home. No, I couldn't ride up this hill. No possibility of that. But it's a good way down to the school, and it's even longer to Kroa. After the hill, most of the way is gloriously flat, being down in the valley, but it still takes about half an hour to go there. So whenever I work a show there, like today, I get a couple of nice long walks in. For concerts, start work at 2 setting up things. For Blind Archery Club and Grand Island, I helped set up a couple platforms for drums and keyboard, placed and connected monitors, and then we cut a few more gels for the lights. Gels into the lights, and while we were waiting around to find out what's going on we got a short lesson on mics in Norwegian. That I followed pretty well, but I had the instructions for working stage security in English. Set up, so far as volunteer tech crew goes, went pretty quickly. I spent about 3 hours there, but most of that was sitting around. Then I go back at 10, to watch the kids up front and make sure they are not too drunk or going to pass out.
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