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 rant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rant. Show all posts
20.4.07
19.4.07
kontroll
Perhaps because it happened during the last meeting of my peace-building class I keep analyzing the Virginia Tech shootings in the perspective of that class. Now, peace-building is generally about longterm conflict and how to deal with political conflicts, whether they are ethnically based or ideology based. A seemingly random shooting at a university, even one where a large number of people are injured or killed, does not seem to match this description at the outset. Look closer. This didn't happen in a vacuum. There are a set of political and social issues that need to be addressed, because extremely similar events have occurred before and will again until we, as a people and a society, start doing something real to prevent it.
The first thing is, stop looking to blame someone at the outset. When something like this happens, at that moment the one thing that anyone needs to say is "This is terrible. I'm sorry that this has happened." It is disgraceful that we have to say and hear "This is terrible, it happened because he was depressed and mentally unstable." Obviously he was mentally ill. Anyone who opens fire on a stranger in this manner is mentally ill by contemporary standards. That he was depressed and mentally ill says absolutely nothing about how terrible it is, or why it happened. It is a fact, but not a reason or an explanation. We should not hear "This is terrible, but don't blame our entire ethnic group because he was crazy." It is also a tragedy that such a thing needs to be said. Would anyone say that it is terrible, but please don't hate all white people? No, we would not. And we should absolutely not hear, "This is terrible, but it doesn't mean that we need stricter gun control laws." It absolutely does mean that we need stricter gun control laws, but in the first reaction to this sort of crisis we need to be able to feel it. We need to be able to react to our shock and our sorrow.
After we have had time to react to the shock of the situation, then we need to look at how it happened. Was there ample warning that this would happen? Should the police and school administrators have reacted differently? Certainly, with hindsight we can say that they should have reacted differently, but who would actually say that the administrators deliberately acted negligently? It was a crisis. It was unclear what was going on. Blaming them doesn't do anything to change what happened or to prevent it from happening again. Assigning blame isn't the answer. Identifying weakness in the response is obviously important, but it shouldn't overshadow more important questions that need to be addressed. Primary among them is "What kind of society do we really want to be?"
This is really important. What kind of society do we really want to be? I don't want to be a society where this sort of tragedy is casually accepted. I don't want to say, violence is inevitable. It may be inevitable and we can't prevent every tragedy in the world. That doesn't mean that we shouldn't be outraged when it does happen, or that we shouldn't try to prevent all acts of violence. We need to look beyond the immediate tragedy, after we have had a chance to react to the immediacy of the tragedy, and really try to answer this question. What kind of society do we really want to be? We need to develop a collective vision of our ideal society, and then try to figure out how to get to that ideal. It isn't easy. There are many conflicting visions. Even when we can agree on what we want our society to be, we disagree on how to create that society. But how much of our opinions on how to achieve the ideal society are based on simple misinformation? Gun lobbyists have tried to foist the idea that owning personal fire arms makes our society safer, but does it really? How many little old ladies with a pistol actually stop a crime? Have we even looked at the statistics? So we need to know what we want to be, and then we need to educate ourselves on what is really going on in our society right now. We need to really know what is true so that we can narrow the scope of permissible lies.
At the same time, we need to broaden our search for answers. The personal firearm situation in America is ridiculous. Some how, despite all evidence to the contrary, we still think that America is the wild west and vigilante justice is a permissible way to deal with crime. The idea that arming everyone is a possible way to prevent violent crime is worse than a joke. But while the ready availability of small firearms is a contributing factor to the Virginia Tech shootings, there are other ways to kill a large number of people, especially in a university setting where a large number of people need ready access to public and shared facilities. A bomb can be made with sufficient research, access to a Home Depot, and then be smuggled into a building in a rucksack. We need to address the gun control issues, but we also need to examine how we deal with mental illness in our country. This is only the beginning of issues that need to be explored. And having different opinions on what we want our society to be is fine and good. Even with objective research we will still have conflicting ideas about how to create that ideal society, and what works in one location will not necessarily work in another location.
The one thing that we cannot allow, is not to have an opinion.
The first thing is, stop looking to blame someone at the outset. When something like this happens, at that moment the one thing that anyone needs to say is "This is terrible. I'm sorry that this has happened." It is disgraceful that we have to say and hear "This is terrible, it happened because he was depressed and mentally unstable." Obviously he was mentally ill. Anyone who opens fire on a stranger in this manner is mentally ill by contemporary standards. That he was depressed and mentally ill says absolutely nothing about how terrible it is, or why it happened. It is a fact, but not a reason or an explanation. We should not hear "This is terrible, but don't blame our entire ethnic group because he was crazy." It is also a tragedy that such a thing needs to be said. Would anyone say that it is terrible, but please don't hate all white people? No, we would not. And we should absolutely not hear, "This is terrible, but it doesn't mean that we need stricter gun control laws." It absolutely does mean that we need stricter gun control laws, but in the first reaction to this sort of crisis we need to be able to feel it. We need to be able to react to our shock and our sorrow.
After we have had time to react to the shock of the situation, then we need to look at how it happened. Was there ample warning that this would happen? Should the police and school administrators have reacted differently? Certainly, with hindsight we can say that they should have reacted differently, but who would actually say that the administrators deliberately acted negligently? It was a crisis. It was unclear what was going on. Blaming them doesn't do anything to change what happened or to prevent it from happening again. Assigning blame isn't the answer. Identifying weakness in the response is obviously important, but it shouldn't overshadow more important questions that need to be addressed. Primary among them is "What kind of society do we really want to be?"
This is really important. What kind of society do we really want to be? I don't want to be a society where this sort of tragedy is casually accepted. I don't want to say, violence is inevitable. It may be inevitable and we can't prevent every tragedy in the world. That doesn't mean that we shouldn't be outraged when it does happen, or that we shouldn't try to prevent all acts of violence. We need to look beyond the immediate tragedy, after we have had a chance to react to the immediacy of the tragedy, and really try to answer this question. What kind of society do we really want to be? We need to develop a collective vision of our ideal society, and then try to figure out how to get to that ideal. It isn't easy. There are many conflicting visions. Even when we can agree on what we want our society to be, we disagree on how to create that society. But how much of our opinions on how to achieve the ideal society are based on simple misinformation? Gun lobbyists have tried to foist the idea that owning personal fire arms makes our society safer, but does it really? How many little old ladies with a pistol actually stop a crime? Have we even looked at the statistics? So we need to know what we want to be, and then we need to educate ourselves on what is really going on in our society right now. We need to really know what is true so that we can narrow the scope of permissible lies.
At the same time, we need to broaden our search for answers. The personal firearm situation in America is ridiculous. Some how, despite all evidence to the contrary, we still think that America is the wild west and vigilante justice is a permissible way to deal with crime. The idea that arming everyone is a possible way to prevent violent crime is worse than a joke. But while the ready availability of small firearms is a contributing factor to the Virginia Tech shootings, there are other ways to kill a large number of people, especially in a university setting where a large number of people need ready access to public and shared facilities. A bomb can be made with sufficient research, access to a Home Depot, and then be smuggled into a building in a rucksack. We need to address the gun control issues, but we also need to examine how we deal with mental illness in our country. This is only the beginning of issues that need to be explored. And having different opinions on what we want our society to be is fine and good. Even with objective research we will still have conflicting ideas about how to create that ideal society, and what works in one location will not necessarily work in another location.
The one thing that we cannot allow, is not to have an opinion.
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.
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.
27.2.07
Gerber Daisies
They are pretty, but mundane. They are found on kitchen tables and bureaus in probably any city with a flower shop, from LA to Tokyo, taking the circuitous route. The number and the gardener's bucket might indicate that this is indeed at a flower shop. Behind me is the glory of Borough Market in Southwark, and more particularly, the bread stand from which I would later buy a tasty hot crossed bun. Given the temperature, it was in fact a rather chilly bun, but still filled with delightful bits of candied fruit, and marked with a frosting cross. It would be my first breakfast in England. In my few days there, I missed out on nearly all the traditional foods excepting beer, though even then I was getting a bit away from the common. I had a Sam Smith cherry ale. Friday was probably my most pleasant day in England, Saturday the most useful, and Sunday the most tiring. The trip was interesting, surprising, and trying. Much walking was involved.This trip should have been in the company of friends. The only reason that I went at this time was because it would be with the other Americans here. I had already bought my plane and concert tickets for late March and that troubadour of Chi-town Andrew Bird. Is the latest variation on Bird's band worth a trip to London in time and tickets? Well, perhaps if it is your first visit and you can combine it with the joys of exploration. But, I reasoned, traveling with friends can also be worth it, so I'll go for both.* The problem with this arises thusly. Of the American five, three chose to fly through Frankfurt, because the extra time traveling actually allowed them a cheaper flight. I and my traveling companion did not feel that the extended trip was worth it, and paid the slightly higher fare for a direct flight. On Thursday, as the day before, it was snowing. The first flight for the three was delayed. This would not have been so great a problem if it hadn't been delayed by something greater than 6 hours including a bus from the airport from which they were scheduled to depart to the large airport in Oslo. Upon arrival in Frankfurt these thrifty travelers learned that it would cost them $100 to have their tickets changed so that they could take another flight to London as their booked flight had taken off without them.
Cut to my dormmate and I, taking the bus from Bø to Sandfjord. Only then did one of them call us to announce that their flight, which had been scheduled to take off over 12 hours earlier in the day, had been delayed so long that they would not be going on to London and they had canceled our hostel booking.** We arrived at Stansted after 2300, with the kind offer from my companion's cousin that we would sleep at her place. In fact, we were able to do this for two nights, and while my dormmate went up to a quaint small town for Saturday night and Sunday, I was able to find a cheap hostel in the suburbs to see me through the night.
End arrival stress. Stay tuned for the continuation detailing some of what was actually done on the journey.
*I did try to persuade people to go to a non-English speaking country for the group trip, because then one can rely on someone else when they are tired of being confused. Ironic, isn't it?
**Some consideration should be given that the one kind enough to call and inform us of this had run out of minutes on her mobile phone, and made the expensive long distance call to inform us of the happenings.
4.2.07
Norway wins 6-1
Today was the big innebandy game between Norway and Denmark. Well, really, it was Norway versus the foreigners because we were there to cheer on the American on the Danish team. I'm not sure, but I think perhaps all of the Danish students were either playing or there to cheer them on wearing the Danish team color. I'm somewhat surprised that I actually got into the game a bit. Innebandy is floor ball, or ice hockey without ice. It lacks the advantages of ice hockey (speed) and has the disadvantages of basketball (squeaky sneakers). The game was, however, reminiscent of watching my Hurricanes. Our boys where out there in red, and they lost. All the same, Heie Denmark!
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".
23.1.07
regional variation
Things have gotten rather more unstructured and informal than I had been meaning for them to be of late, primarily through lack of timely writing. Much of this is from the disruption of a long trip into a familiar, yet foreign environment. Visiting home tends to bottom out my desire to get things done. I want to see the folks, relax, watch lots and lots of movies on the projection tv. Probably if I lived closer to my family this would be different. I'd not be so far removed from my daily life and sense of personal responsibility.
To get back into things, there was a small drama at college today. We had been told that our course evaluations would be kept anonymous. We need to feel comfortable expressing our honest opinions on classes, right? So a couple of the Americans had some very substantial complaints about a couple of our Norwegian professors, which they put into their course evaluations. Of course they did. That is what course evaluations are for. Except, they were not anonymous as it turns out. Because one of the professors apologized to those with the complaint, both in e-mail and today to one of them personally. The recipient didn't acknowledge the apology, because the comment should have been anonymous and she felt rather violated I suppose. But who is right? The one who is honestly trying to make ammends, or the one who feels both offended and now violated by the lack of anonymity?
To get back into things, there was a small drama at college today. We had been told that our course evaluations would be kept anonymous. We need to feel comfortable expressing our honest opinions on classes, right? So a couple of the Americans had some very substantial complaints about a couple of our Norwegian professors, which they put into their course evaluations. Of course they did. That is what course evaluations are for. Except, they were not anonymous as it turns out. Because one of the professors apologized to those with the complaint, both in e-mail and today to one of them personally. The recipient didn't acknowledge the apology, because the comment should have been anonymous and she felt rather violated I suppose. But who is right? The one who is honestly trying to make ammends, or the one who feels both offended and now violated by the lack of anonymity?
3.12.06
my day with norwegian sports
I really need to get my papers written at this point, and to prevent myself from accidentally wasting the day surfing the internet I decided to settle myself in the kitchen with the television on something not annoyingly stupid nor distractingly interesting. With only three channels to choose from I was lucky that NRK 1 was running winter sports competitions all day. Unfortunately, writing in Norwegian makes biathlon competition fascinating. It does not, however, render the chariot races more interesting. No lie. Chariots.
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.
8.11.06
Perspective
Two of the Danish students have dropped out of school here because they have fallen in love. Very sweet and romantic, except that the girl traveled here with her boyfriend of six years. The boyfriend is obviously not the one she fell in love with. So all three of these Danes are in the same program, and to avoid the incredible awkwardness, the love birds have decided to travel around Europe for a while before deciding what they will do next. All of this is a build up to: last night was their going away party. Most of the people there were Danish, and thus I couldn't even pretend to understand them when they spoke to each other. Three other "foreign" foreigners that went too, so I spent much of the evening talking to Czech and Slovakia, and Lebanon. Lebanon knows more about American politics than I do, because he reads a lot. He reads the news of the net, he reads biographies, the dude just reads. And he likes Bill Clinton. He read Bill's autobiography. He despises Jr. for the two wars we've got going on, not because he thinks terrorism is somehow okay or that Saddam was a good guy, but because he knows that the war on terror is making more enemies and that the weapons of mass destruction were never the real reason for invading Iraq.* Slovakia, on the other hand, doesn't like Clinton. For him, Reagan and Bush make it possible for him to study English and travel.** All Clinton did was drop bombs on his friends in Serbia. Also, he doesn't like that Bill lied about the affair. On the constitution, which he holds to be sacred. I don't remember precisely if the word he used was sacred, but the effect was the same. And I have to admit that he has a point. If you hated living under communism, you are going to love the men who saved you from it. We also discussed several films that I have not, but should have seen already. Bowling for Columbine being one of them. I got to tell them that of CNN things that have freaked me out, the Columbine shootings places higher than the Twin Towers for me. I spent an afternoon watching kids being evacuated from their school as two of their classmates decided who to shoot. I might be less disturbed by the plane hijackings because I didn't actually see it as it happened.*** In regard to the bullying brought up in Bowling, Slovakia asked me if it really is that common in America and I had to respond that it probably is. I'm not up on my statistics or anything, and I don't know how Moore portrayed the bullying. I asked how things are in Slovakia, and he responded that kids are becoming more rude. Eastern Europe can see every trend before it surfaces in their countries because everything (emphasis was on everything bad) comes through Western Europe from America.
*I am generally more angry about the poor support and armament that some of our soldiers are coming back complaining about, and the general use of economic warfare which is just as destructive, but doesn't make us look quite as dirty.
**On the subject of communism, people here seem confused by the Communist Party t-shirt. I like it for the pun. Argentina and one of the Italians were discussing it on Monday, and he thinks that the joke is Marx laughing at the dupes who put his social theory into practice.
***The Italian did see the attacks live and responded to it with a post-War of the Worlds disbelief at first. Surely this wasn't happening.
*I am generally more angry about the poor support and armament that some of our soldiers are coming back complaining about, and the general use of economic warfare which is just as destructive, but doesn't make us look quite as dirty.
**On the subject of communism, people here seem confused by the Communist Party t-shirt. I like it for the pun. Argentina and one of the Italians were discussing it on Monday, and he thinks that the joke is Marx laughing at the dupes who put his social theory into practice.
***The Italian did see the attacks live and responded to it with a post-War of the Worlds disbelief at first. Surely this wasn't happening.
5.11.06
sketchy
One of our instructors asked us (the Americans) to help some of the other foreign students with their papers for class. We feel a little sketchy about this, because the students didn't actually ask for help. When they turned in their papers, well, we assume that they were happy enough with them. It's a pass-fail class anyway, so having really great papers isn't that high a priority. At least, it isn't for us, the Americans. Norwegians can be tactless in their directness sometimes.* But one of the American professors here presented the subject to these exchange students in a gentler way, and I just finished going through one of the guy's papers with him. St Olaf helped one of the others with his paper, and reported that she spent five hours just getting the English grammar into something that made any sense what so ever. They didn't even get into elements of composition. My fellow and I had a slightly easier time. Paper writing help from me is not nothing. For one thing, there is cake. Tasty home made carrot cake with creme fraiche frosting and a cup of tea. But the other part of it is that I didn't have very much confusing grammar to work though, so we worked on structure and flow. A paragraph really needs to be more than one sentence. Even if you are a scientist, a paragraph needs to be more than one sentence. I feel even more sketchy, because I did some of his rewriting for him so that we wouldn't spend five hours working things out. The help I gave him wouldn't fly if I were an assistant in the Writing Center on campus back home. But it was still his thoughts, and I tried to restrict my vocabulary and sentence construction to words and phrases he might actually use. This was hard for me, because I am very fond of big words and complicated sentence structure. But I am also fond of having my evening back to work on my own plethora of papers. We used two and a half hours with a smoke break for him.
*This isn't a blanket statement. There are also polite Norwegians.
*This isn't a blanket statement. There are also polite Norwegians.
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.
31.10.06
slem, slem, slem! snill, snill, snill!
I finally turned in my Hedda Gabler paper yesterday, so I'm taking a well deserved break from my required writing to do some non-required writing. Usually, when it takes me two weeks to write a paper, I mean that it took me two weeks of complaining about the paper while I thought through the ideas that I wanted to use and appeared to be doing nothing. Then I wrote the paper in one evening. No. I spent over two weeks staring at the computer screen, tired and frustrated, trying to type anything that made sense about the play. Because I had to write it in Norwegian. And my norwegian textbooks don't have that much information relating to Hedda.
I also had a traumatic experience recently, when my computer decided to freeze up while I was writing my first journal entry in several days. Not that it wasn't also traumatic when it has frozen up on my paper writing or my e-mails, but Word and Gmail have auto-save features, where as Blogger just disappears with all my clever turns of phrase. But a lot of things have happened since I last made any updates, so here are the last two weeks in review and reverse:
One of my dorm mates has a twin who, while not identical, looks enough like her that when I'm not paying attention I can confuse the two. So for the Halloween party at Kroa this Saturday it was only appropriate that they dressed as an angel and a devil. Every time they saw me they would chant "bad, bad, bad" and "good, good, good" at me. I also met another guy from Wisconsin, who I got to dance with us to Ghostbusters. Bravery points all around, because he danced despite being tanked, and we danced with him while he was tanked. I also saw another of my dorm mate's boyfriend again for the first time since the beginning of the semester. He lived in the dorm building (in fact, my room at one point) the last couple years before he graduated. Apparently all the buildings cluttering my kitchen view have gone in over the past couple years. Bø might be a rural college town, but it is growing.
While Bø is building, you can get a nice house in Tinn for a song. Since Norsk Hydro has gone inside the mountains and mostly automated, the towns around the hydroelectric plants have lost their major employer. Tinn still looks nice though, with a pretty little downtown.
We drove through it on the way home from a field trip two Wednesdays ago to a stavkirke in Eidsborg and the Norsk Industriarbeiders Museum in Rjukan. Luther-girl and I were having an extra-cranky day. Being cold and rained on in Eidsborg didn't help. The tower was off the church and on the ground, and everything was wrapped in plastic, because it's no longer tourist season so it's time for repairs.* It was cool to get a mini-lecture on the structural changes to the stavkirke while sitting in the pews, but I didn't start feeling better until we got to Rjukan and were fed a nice paprika chicken lunch. The Industrial Worker's Museum is located in the old Norsk Hydro power plant in Vermork. I have had an affection for this power plant since I wrote a paper on Norwegian resistance fighters for my second college history class.
This was one of the field trips from a very evil week for we American students. Two major papers due, and three field trips. Granted, the trip to Eidsborg and Rjukan was optional, but our class that day was cancelled so that we could go. Then when we got back, I ran up to my dorm to grab a quick snack and my rain clothes, because then I was going to look for beavers as part of my friluftsliv class. We saw some beavers. Fall is not the best time to go beaver hunting. The long days of summer are better for this, because one can sneak up on the beavers while they are on land and get a good look at them. All of our beavers were in the water, and quick to disappear if we tried to get close to them. We also saw five swans. Two adults and two juvies. We got a lot closer to the swans than the beavers, and disturbed their attempts at sleep. The beaver safari was pretty cool. We got pølse. Norwegian and their sausages. Oh my. What wasn't so cool was the trip to Lifjell on Friday. At least, not for some of us. The friluftsliv class is large enough that with the Spanish alpine ecology students along, they divided us into two groups. My group got the Danish department employee. The first thing he said to us was that we were going to stick together. We stopped frequently to consult the map. He had us discuss the articles for class that day as best we could, see as we had not read any of them. He talked to us about hiker safety rules in Norway. They are pretty standard, but with the addition of avalanche awareness, not so important in flat Wisconsin. Then he gave us compasses and had us start learning how to navigate our way back with the maps on the smaller, sometimes indistinct trails. We got back right about on time. The other group, with the friluftsliv department head, they got lost. They didn't have compasses. At least, not other than the instructor. Heavy off-trail walking finally brought the two Americans in the group, far ahead of the other students, to a different parking lot than the one we started from. They got back an hour and a half after the rest of us. Fortunately, our taxi-bus wouldn't wait that long, so we all got to leave only slightly late, while our Dane stood around waiting for everyone else to arrive. Granting that we have only a select group of Danes here in Bø, they make a very good impression of the country.**
*as the church in Eidsborg is wrapped in plastic, it is obviously not the one in the picture. I took the picture on Bygdøya in the Folkemuseum.
**All of the Danes I have met are here in relation to the friluftsliv program. The are all very competent, friendly, and generally attractive. Denmark is obviously populated by some strange and wonderful race of fairytale people rather than humans.
I also had a traumatic experience recently, when my computer decided to freeze up while I was writing my first journal entry in several days. Not that it wasn't also traumatic when it has frozen up on my paper writing or my e-mails, but Word and Gmail have auto-save features, where as Blogger just disappears with all my clever turns of phrase. But a lot of things have happened since I last made any updates, so here are the last two weeks in review and reverse:
One of my dorm mates has a twin who, while not identical, looks enough like her that when I'm not paying attention I can confuse the two. So for the Halloween party at Kroa this Saturday it was only appropriate that they dressed as an angel and a devil. Every time they saw me they would chant "bad, bad, bad" and "good, good, good" at me. I also met another guy from Wisconsin, who I got to dance with us to Ghostbusters. Bravery points all around, because he danced despite being tanked, and we danced with him while he was tanked. I also saw another of my dorm mate's boyfriend again for the first time since the beginning of the semester. He lived in the dorm building (in fact, my room at one point) the last couple years before he graduated. Apparently all the buildings cluttering my kitchen view have gone in over the past couple years. Bø might be a rural college town, but it is growing.
While Bø is building, you can get a nice house in Tinn for a song. Since Norsk Hydro has gone inside the mountains and mostly automated, the towns around the hydroelectric plants have lost their major employer. Tinn still looks nice though, with a pretty little downtown.
We drove through it on the way home from a field trip two Wednesdays ago to a stavkirke in Eidsborg and the Norsk Industriarbeiders Museum in Rjukan. Luther-girl and I were having an extra-cranky day. Being cold and rained on in Eidsborg didn't help. The tower was off the church and on the ground, and everything was wrapped in plastic, because it's no longer tourist season so it's time for repairs.* It was cool to get a mini-lecture on the structural changes to the stavkirke while sitting in the pews, but I didn't start feeling better until we got to Rjukan and were fed a nice paprika chicken lunch. The Industrial Worker's Museum is located in the old Norsk Hydro power plant in Vermork. I have had an affection for this power plant since I wrote a paper on Norwegian resistance fighters for my second college history class.This was one of the field trips from a very evil week for we American students. Two major papers due, and three field trips. Granted, the trip to Eidsborg and Rjukan was optional, but our class that day was cancelled so that we could go. Then when we got back, I ran up to my dorm to grab a quick snack and my rain clothes, because then I was going to look for beavers as part of my friluftsliv class. We saw some beavers. Fall is not the best time to go beaver hunting. The long days of summer are better for this, because one can sneak up on the beavers while they are on land and get a good look at them. All of our beavers were in the water, and quick to disappear if we tried to get close to them. We also saw five swans. Two adults and two juvies. We got a lot closer to the swans than the beavers, and disturbed their attempts at sleep. The beaver safari was pretty cool. We got pølse. Norwegian and their sausages. Oh my. What wasn't so cool was the trip to Lifjell on Friday. At least, not for some of us. The friluftsliv class is large enough that with the Spanish alpine ecology students along, they divided us into two groups. My group got the Danish department employee. The first thing he said to us was that we were going to stick together. We stopped frequently to consult the map. He had us discuss the articles for class that day as best we could, see as we had not read any of them. He talked to us about hiker safety rules in Norway. They are pretty standard, but with the addition of avalanche awareness, not so important in flat Wisconsin. Then he gave us compasses and had us start learning how to navigate our way back with the maps on the smaller, sometimes indistinct trails. We got back right about on time. The other group, with the friluftsliv department head, they got lost. They didn't have compasses. At least, not other than the instructor. Heavy off-trail walking finally brought the two Americans in the group, far ahead of the other students, to a different parking lot than the one we started from. They got back an hour and a half after the rest of us. Fortunately, our taxi-bus wouldn't wait that long, so we all got to leave only slightly late, while our Dane stood around waiting for everyone else to arrive. Granting that we have only a select group of Danes here in Bø, they make a very good impression of the country.**
*as the church in Eidsborg is wrapped in plastic, it is obviously not the one in the picture. I took the picture on Bygdøya in the Folkemuseum.
**All of the Danes I have met are here in relation to the friluftsliv program. The are all very competent, friendly, and generally attractive. Denmark is obviously populated by some strange and wonderful race of fairytale people rather than humans.
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.
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.
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.
21.9.06
Rawr!
Hedningarna played at the Telemark Festival this year, while I was trying to save some cash to live on for a year in the town where the festival takes place. I arrived two months later.
The positive side, is that I'm getting back to collecting research material for the thesis paper I need to write this year. I also have roughly one month to apply for the grant money the honors department recently informed me of. It's a relatively safe assumption that other people are much more organized in what they are asking for than I am. They can probably justify why their research needs to be done, and have more than a general idea of what they are writing about. But I'm trying to focus on the positive here. I've made e-mail contact with a couple of the Finnish girls I met in January. One is a fan of folk metal and the other studies kantele (she is one of the most awesome people I have met, and she gave us a post-drinking impromptu concert when I told her I am interested in Finnish folk music). I spoke with a girl tonight who married an amateur musician, and she is going to bring me his cd to listen to, and I'll get to interview him. This means that I have to start creating interview questions. I've never really done interviews for a serious paper before. I'm not really sure what all the protocols are. For example, should I have some form of agreement written up, stating that 'this is what I'm going to do with this information, and I have your permission to do so, sign here'? I'm not sure how much music I am going to have to delete from my iPod so that I can use it as a mini-recorder. So I get to fake it, and pretend I know what I'm doing. And with luck, it will all turn out okay.
In other news, the forspillers are out in raucous force, it being a Thursday night, and I really need to get my journals for Telemark culture written, so no playtime for me.
The positive side, is that I'm getting back to collecting research material for the thesis paper I need to write this year. I also have roughly one month to apply for the grant money the honors department recently informed me of. It's a relatively safe assumption that other people are much more organized in what they are asking for than I am. They can probably justify why their research needs to be done, and have more than a general idea of what they are writing about. But I'm trying to focus on the positive here. I've made e-mail contact with a couple of the Finnish girls I met in January. One is a fan of folk metal and the other studies kantele (she is one of the most awesome people I have met, and she gave us a post-drinking impromptu concert when I told her I am interested in Finnish folk music). I spoke with a girl tonight who married an amateur musician, and she is going to bring me his cd to listen to, and I'll get to interview him. This means that I have to start creating interview questions. I've never really done interviews for a serious paper before. I'm not really sure what all the protocols are. For example, should I have some form of agreement written up, stating that 'this is what I'm going to do with this information, and I have your permission to do so, sign here'? I'm not sure how much music I am going to have to delete from my iPod so that I can use it as a mini-recorder. So I get to fake it, and pretend I know what I'm doing. And with luck, it will all turn out okay.
In other news, the forspillers are out in raucous force, it being a Thursday night, and I really need to get my journals for Telemark culture written, so no playtime for me.
12.9.06
du vinner igjen tørkeskap!
I've never been too particular about my laundry. Clean and not shrunk tend to satisfy me well enough. That was when I had a tumble dryer. With the drying closet here, I have a problem. Stone hard towel. All the rest of my clothes are doing fine. My t-shirts are soft and cuddly when they come out. So I've bought some fabric softener (after puzzling over the product labeling a bit), and have been trying to get a soft, absorbent towel out of it. I have, apparently, no skill with fabric softener, but am adjusting to the abrasive towel. It only takes a couple of showers before it relaxes back into something like a textile instead of course sandpaper.I've been whining a lot, but that doesn't mean I don't like it here. Thus, a brief list of good things:
- dinner parties
- dormmates who are very nice about repeating themselves until I understand (and using supplimental English)
- my bathroom floor heater
- the electric hot water pot
- mountains and trees and the pleasant little creek through town
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