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.
21.9.06
19.9.06
They told me...
...you will not eat as well there.
I have not found this to be true. I was primed with my collection of top-shelf herbs and spices, but my own cooking has been supplemented by the cooking skills of Wisco, Luther, and my dorm mates. I definitely eat better here than I did back home, because I don't live in a damp cave where whatever I set over the heat would linger in scent on my bed linens. And there is sunlight in my kitchen, provided it isn't raining.
...Norwegians are shy or naturally reserved people.
I am shy, but bored sitting in my dorm room with the door closed and curtain drawn. So I go down to campus to read sometimes. I go to concerts. I just go outside. And the Norwegians come to me. I went to Karpe Diem on my own, and some classmates (who I didn't recognize at all I'm sorry to say) came over to talk to me. Or they come over and talk to me while I am reading. Or like Ms Polish, they visit the church while I'm looking around, and we talk for a while.
...if they know you speak English they won't talk to you in Norwegian.
Last night I went to Vin Kveld at Den Gode Nabo with the Americans. They like to go around 9. I'm starting to think that 10 would be better. A little before 10. And when we share a bottle of wine around 9, and we see each other in classes everyday anyway, there isn't that much to say that's new. So we are done a little after 10, and ready to go home. Sleep. Finish homework. Chat online to our friends who are now done with work or school. Those of us who live in Breisås met Luther's second floor neighbors heading out. I decided to be easily persuaded, and encouraged Luther to come back out too. Tragically, she is under 20, and a lot of the bars here have a 20 and over age limit, not because they can't drink earlier (18 is legal, and that is considered strict by Scandinavian standards), but because they have something against students in their last year of videregåendeskole (high school). So Luther got stopped at the door, but was able to call one of her dorm mates to come pick her up. All of this is beside the point that I am trying to make right now. We agreed to go with the neighbors if they promised to speak English to us, because while I'm quite good at explaining how bad I am at Norwegian, I'm not good at small talk in the language. Most of our fellow students want us to speak Norwegian, either because they are shy about their English, or because they think it's cool that we can.
...the countryside is beautiful.
And this is completely true.
I have not found this to be true. I was primed with my collection of top-shelf herbs and spices, but my own cooking has been supplemented by the cooking skills of Wisco, Luther, and my dorm mates. I definitely eat better here than I did back home, because I don't live in a damp cave where whatever I set over the heat would linger in scent on my bed linens. And there is sunlight in my kitchen, provided it isn't raining.
...Norwegians are shy or naturally reserved people.
I am shy, but bored sitting in my dorm room with the door closed and curtain drawn. So I go down to campus to read sometimes. I go to concerts. I just go outside. And the Norwegians come to me. I went to Karpe Diem on my own, and some classmates (who I didn't recognize at all I'm sorry to say) came over to talk to me. Or they come over and talk to me while I am reading. Or like Ms Polish, they visit the church while I'm looking around, and we talk for a while.
...if they know you speak English they won't talk to you in Norwegian.
Last night I went to Vin Kveld at Den Gode Nabo with the Americans. They like to go around 9. I'm starting to think that 10 would be better. A little before 10. And when we share a bottle of wine around 9, and we see each other in classes everyday anyway, there isn't that much to say that's new. So we are done a little after 10, and ready to go home. Sleep. Finish homework. Chat online to our friends who are now done with work or school. Those of us who live in Breisås met Luther's second floor neighbors heading out. I decided to be easily persuaded, and encouraged Luther to come back out too. Tragically, she is under 20, and a lot of the bars here have a 20 and over age limit, not because they can't drink earlier (18 is legal, and that is considered strict by Scandinavian standards), but because they have something against students in their last year of videregåendeskole (high school). So Luther got stopped at the door, but was able to call one of her dorm mates to come pick her up. All of this is beside the point that I am trying to make right now. We agreed to go with the neighbors if they promised to speak English to us, because while I'm quite good at explaining how bad I am at Norwegian, I'm not good at small talk in the language. Most of our fellow students want us to speak Norwegian, either because they are shy about their English, or because they think it's cool that we can.
...the countryside is beautiful.
And this is completely true.
16.9.06
Baptism
I have spent rather more time in churches than I am accustomed to, so today I went to a "house" of worship I'm more comfortable in. I went to Bø Elva with the Bergen dorm mate and the school paddling club. When Bergen and I decided to join the trip we thought it would be a pleasant paddle down the river in canoes. Instead, I got baptised in Norway learning to do eskimo rolls. The club only had one spare wetsuit, so I did it in my black pants and a t-shirt. Consider, that in Gvarv (the closest city to Bø that I could find on weatherunderground) the high today was 13 (55 F). The river was COLD! I loved it anyway. Bergen had a harder time of it. She's afraid of being submerged in water. I, however, have a fear of down. This was a problem for me when I was younger, and would happily climb up the lighthouses on the Outer Banks and look out over the ocean and straight down to the beach, but then couldn't get back down the narrow stairs.
Yes, I certainly did have my moments of panic, but that just meant bailing from the kayak. I only hit my head on the boat, and that was just once. I certainly didn't perfect my technique for righting my boat today, perhaps in part because I was slowly freezing, but I did get comfortable keeping my head underwater. Cold, cold water. But very clean. So are my sinuses now. Not that I inhaled any water, I just didn't have a nose clip to keep the river out. I also appreciated having short hair.
Yes, I certainly did have my moments of panic, but that just meant bailing from the kayak. I only hit my head on the boat, and that was just once. I certainly didn't perfect my technique for righting my boat today, perhaps in part because I was slowly freezing, but I did get comfortable keeping my head underwater. Cold, cold water. But very clean. So are my sinuses now. Not that I inhaled any water, I just didn't have a nose clip to keep the river out. I also appreciated having short hair.
13.9.06
In church again
I went up to the churches here in Bø again. I was on a photo expidition for both my father and myself. I took something just under 200 pictures, which is a complete shock to me, because I am not a picture taking person. Snapshots are just not my thing. But this was research, and I can totally rock the research excuse. I felt a little sketchy, because I am not a church attending person and I always feel like I am trespassing in churches. It also doesn't help that I was taking lots of pictures of headstones, while a few people were attending to the graves of their departed.
While I was out in the church yard a Polish woman in my Immigrant/Emigrant class came up with her boyfriend. While I was talking to her, one of the groundsmen came over and asked the boyfriend if we would like to look inside the church, so I got to walk around in the stone church without anyone to tell me I couldn't walk behind that, or don't touch this. I didn't climb the ladder up to look at the church bells, but I thought about it. Most of the pictures I took are of very little value as lovely compositions to look at, but hopefully will make good reference shots for Pops. I am a very good daughter and he should remember this.
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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