Sunset, etc

 At my parent's house last Friday

I keep getting questions from English people about when total darkness arrives here. At the moment, as you can see from this overview picked up from the very clever site Time and Date, Tromsø and London have fairly similar amounts of daylight. Look at the difference every day though - how much shorter the days get every day, and you'll see how quickly we will arrive at Polar Night. (Edit: Tromsø is the top one, London the bottom one).

Officially, the sun is down from November 28th till January 16th. In Tromsø it will start a week earlier and end a week later (ca) because of the mountains surrounding the city. January 21st, however, is our Sun Day - the day we celebrate the sun coming back by eating "sun buns" (which the rest of the year are called doughnuts (without holes)).

There we go, some useful information for once, instead of my usual chatter.

I'm stocking up on blackcurrant cordial and orange juice and sunshine while I can. Frankly, I'm quite scared I'll get depressed. I haven't lived through Polar Night in three years. I feel like the Moomins when they know the Groke is coming...

Autumn camp 2011, Haraldvollen

 Lots of sitting down in semicircles (here: Kiira, Torill, Caitlin, Elena & Theresa) 

(Finland, Norway, Canada, Russia, Germany)

 Mostly to watch presentations by Russians, Colombians, and a wealth of other -ians about what we do, in our respective Red Cross (Youth) societies

 But also time for cross-cultural fun, here Xiomara (Colombian) flanked by Egor and Oleg (Russian)

 Carlos (Colombian) and Jon Einar (sp?) (Norwegian)

And pizza, the Norwegian national dish (not pictured here) eaten by all, including Olya and Polina (Russian)

The camp started on Friday, I only came down on Saturday morning because of work. Still, it feels like it lasted so much longer. I've been to these camps many times before, when I was younger, this is definitely the most international camp we've had. Not only did we have ten Russians (or thereabouts) visiting, there were also about ten Russians currently living in Tromsø there, about the same number of other foreigners, and something between five and seven actual Norwegians. It was amazing.

Every break was spent trying to understand each other's cultures and languages, I've learnt more Russian words this weekend than the past four years altogether. Today, walking with my post, I was constantly repeating them to myself. It's a very interesting mix of "hello" "goodbye" "serve!" (as in volleyball), and "can I have one dog" (which is, apparently, a drink. One of the ingredients is Tabasco sauce).

The best moment of the weekend happened yesterday, as we were sat tired in a pizzeria, exchanging our last words with the Russians (who left this morning for Murmansk). Polina passed something to Carlos, who said "tusen takk" and she replied with "værsågod". It was only when I pointed it out they both realised they had been speaking Norwegian to each other, one Russian, one Colombian.

Happy days.

I'm looking forward to spending more time with the internationals in Tromsø, and I hope I'll be able to go to Murmansk the next time our Russia group is going.

Crown

Awesome.

I have serious thoughts at the moment, about utilitarianism and charity and STUFF that we talk about in philosophy that relates so much to my daily life it almost annoys me. I want to be all blasé and know everything already and be so clever that philosophy can't change me. Yet, a course that every person studying in Norway has to take, makes me consider so much, and might just change my life a little bit.

Until I get as far as putting my thoughts down (on screen if not on paper), let's rejoice in the simple joys of life.

I can has crown?

CROWN!

Happy Sunniva.

All of the day and all of the night, I'm Red Crossing

 Helene, the new youth coordinator for the North. Looking unimpressed with her party hat.

 Party party

 All these lovely people, and I don't know half of them yet.

 Discussions I don't understand one word of

Russians not understanding one word of our conversations

Sorry about the RC overload, but this week is hectic, and I'm still in the middle of it. In addition to working and studying (which together makes a full time week, at least), I've thrown myself into the Red Cross Youth at it's busiest time of year.

Monday - meeting with the stand group to plan our next stand

Tuesday - day "off" where I only went to work, went to try out my mum's gym, went home and read two hours of philosophy

Wednesday - party (photos above) to celebrate the youth delegates from Colombia, Xiomara and Carlos (blog) and that they'll be staying here the next nine months, in addition to celebrating the Russians who are here for only a week to talk about our cooperation with them.

Thursday (today) - Elections for the local RCY board, with the Russians and the youth delegates attending, everyone slightly confused but happy with getting pizza (except for the poor youth delegates. Norwegians always order pizza at events like these - and they've attended many the past few weeks).

Friday - work, home, shower, bus to parent's house, sleep, up, up, early in the morning to drive to Haraldvollen, where the annual autumn camp of RCY is taking place this weekend.

Counting... Five out of seven days this week spent with the Red Cross. Which is amazing and fun and nice, but maybe next week it'll go down to... only two, maybe? Which will be grand for the rest of my social happenings.

Meant to post this ages ago

August 1961

My maternal grandparents just had their gold wedding anniversary last month. Look at them, aren't they a gorgeous couple? Love you.

Red Cross - why?

Me at the age of 16, about a month after joining the Red Cross for the very first time.

Before my friend suggested we both join the Red Cross Youth group, we'd tried a few other organisations - we were sixteen, had just started doing what we wanted (i.e. finished secondary school (I guess (well...it doesn't really translate)) and started on schools and programs we were interested in) and were trying to figure out who we were and what we were doing with our lives. We tried youth political parties, we started swimming regularly, we volunteered at festivals and collected money for charities. It was still not quite enough though (and we ditched the political parties after a while), until my brilliant friend (Cecille) got me to go with her to the Red Cross Youth.

I think the Red Cross, as NGOs go, is one of the best, worldwide, because of not only its massive range (it exists in almost every country) and its variety of Good Actions, but also because of its low level of corruption, and it being generally well-known as a neutral organisation - which again leads to people being able to do Good Things.

At the moment, my philosophy course is dealing with utilitarianism. The tutors ask us whether utilitarianism means having to give up everything you own to help others - which is one extreme end of it. I rather believe in the middle path (well, slightly lower than middle, really) of living comfortably enough, as you do, as long as you're aware that you've just won the lottery when it comes to where you were born - and at the same time help those that are worse off than you.

I don't care what charities people give to. I don't care whether you want to save the children, the planet, the animals, or a specific village in Kenya: Just do something. As long as people share what they've got, little or much, I'm happy. And I like those people much better than the ones that just go "Ah, but you can't save the world/everyone, so what's the point?"

My first boyfriend (who was a... ah, I shouldn't swear) threw a fit (told you) when his parents announced that that Christmas they were going to give all their family, including him and his brothers, gifts in their names to charities instead of presents. I thought that was an amazing idea.

Anyway. Love. Red Cross. When we had to write about someone who inspired us in school, I wrote about Henri Dunant. I'm such a geek.

Culture, etc

Please note: both these books say "vintage"

My photos on my wall, that's how much I love myself

I'll take more interior shots some day, when I can be bothered to use my tripod and change from my 50mm lens to my 28mm one.

Just finished reading The Tenant of Wildfell Hall - I've been trying to reread Anne Brontë, and I've realised why she's the neglected sister. Wildfell Hall is actually not that bad (especially now I'm looking forward to seeing Toby Stephens in the adaption). Her other book, Agnes Grey, is little better than any romantic tripe you find at airports, only in Agnes it is disguised behind perceived piety and intense slander about Miss Anne's former employers. Wikipedia tries to tell me Anne wrote in a realistic style... Well, she's certainly not as romantic as her sisters. That's not what makes the books so tiring to read though: It's the strong feeling of righteousness in all her main characters: What they do is right, they're the only ones strong enough to withstand trial, they're the only ones pious and God-fearing enough to keep away from temptation. This gets very tiring after a while... Which is a shame, for Wildfell Hall is really rather a feminist novel, saying that women shouldn't have to endure abuse and mistreatment from their husbands.

I've been spending a lot of time in the 19th century lately (in books that is), so I'm looking forward to trying out Nick Hornby. He's a bit hit and miss with me, but at least his characters have much less moral, which will be a nice change.

Active Choice

 One Miss Dixie Hadfield (I seem to meet almost as many British people here as I did Norwegians in Falmouth) at our stand

 Free condoms and sjokoladeboller (chocolate...buns(?), a Norwegian specialty)

Sofie & Dixie, weary from talking to drunkards and telling children they can have a bun but not a condom

When I went back to the Red Cross Youth a few weeks ago, I also said I would be part of a group that plans stands like these, for the entire Red Cross and its different divisions. At our first meeting, we decided we would start this semester with a Red Cross Youth stand about active choice.

I started out asking people from the Russia group to help volunteer, I had the promise of not one, but two from Gatemegling, I went to the Active Choice group that is just starting up again and managed to secure Sofie and Dixie. On the day itself, only Dixie and I showed up... We trundled into town anyway, bringing boller baked by someone from another division (thanks, Maria!), a table, condoms and some posters.

...It went ok. It wasn't a completely disaster - we were there, we were visible, we handed out some boller and some condoms. It was also the start of mobility week though, and suddenly we had an entire band in front of us with children playing all sorts of instruments. They were not marching. By this time Dixie had had to leave, and Sofie had come instead, and we just packed up and left in a hurry. Ah. Well, it's the first stand I've organised in three years and a bit, it's the first stand of the semester, and a number of people didn't show up. I'm hoping that last problem won't reoccur too much in the future.

And I've got a million (by which I mean 8) chocolate buns to myself. Om nom nom, gobble gobble.

First things first

This week has been made of awesome/busy.
On Thursday and Friday I went to the local Silent Film Festival with my friend, and saw two films. I've been there a few times before (it's every September) and I'm always struck by how amazing silent films can be. They're not amazing when they're shown on tv, dvd or on some streaming service, with piano music that repeats itself all the time. They are amazing when you get live music, often very complex, sometimes very modern, to something that was meant to be played with live music, almost one hundred years ago.

I saw The Lost World, the first dinosaur film:

The animation is actually a lot better than I expected. The story in itself is rather silly and absolutely unbelievable, but the film was so much fun to watch, especially with the live music.

Friday was the day I'd been looking forward to: We were going to see Metropolis, which is a film I've heard about from many quarters from I was 17 (I think the last mention was in my Uncanny reading, about automatons etc). I didn't want to have too high expectations, even though I'd heard it was outstanding, and... It really was. Again, with the music, that fit the film so well, by the artists Gudmund Østgård (who I've had as a teacher!), Ivan Afanasyev, Nasra, and Cleaning Women. The film itself was astonishingly well made, a dystopia about... Ah, I'll let you read on IMDb yourselves, on the link above. Suffice to say: Mind. Blown.

p.s.: The music we had was much less peaceful. It was truly amazing.

Mailbox and view

 Here is my new address: just add 9006 Tromsø, Norway to the bottom, and you've got it (did I say I want more letters?) Artwork by the lovely Ida.

A crummy photo of a lovely view. 

As I went to my parents for Sunday dinner yesterday, the sun came out and I had to stop the car and photograph it all.

I would have gone today, or this weekend, to England, if I was going to graduation. Not happy about this. Trying to forget it by keeping busy and not being on Facebook to see how everyone's planning to meet up and have fun, or I try to plan to meet up with people here and have fun. I'll probably not go back to England before next year, maybe May? And it wouldn't bother me as much if there wasn't the graduation now, and (almost) everyone I knew were going to Falmouth. I've decided to be positive (well, almost) by thinking how much happier I'll be meeting everyone after such a long time. The only thing is, if I do go next year, it will probably be a very short trip to London, and I won't actually meet everyone. Well. "Den tid, den sorg" = "That time, that grief" - an expression I can't for the life of me find the equivalent of in English. I'm sure my vocabulary is diminishing every day, although I'm reading as many English books as I ever did.

I'll stop complaining now. I hope everyone going to Falmouth will have an amazing time, and that they will throw their hats high enough in the air that I can see it from up here. Good luck everyone, and congratulations with your degrees!

P.S.

Of course it's also ten years since 9/11.

And I, again, need to use other people's words, like these, and these.

I remember being 12 when it happened, and being annoyed because Friends was not on telly at it's usual time. I don't think I realised what had happened, or to what extent, for a while. And only recently, this summer, have I come somewhat close to realising how it must have felt for the people of NY.

Happy days

Our local, old woman, sat next to the bus stop, forever grumpy. 

Yesterday the knitting festival (!) had placed a scarf on her, but she's still not happy.

Friday started out only so-so. I had philosophy in the morning, which is all right, but means I have to cycle to uni, with my already tired legs (thighs). Then, as I came into work, and was supposed to go out immediately to get the post out in time, I realised they hadn't finished sorting my mail, and I spent an extra hour standing there sorting through everything before I managed to get out.

Then my day turned, miraculously, when Karoline called and offered me a ticket to a series of concerts that evening, which I'd been wanting to get tickets to for ages, but it was a closed event, and you had to be a customer in the bank that arranged the concert to get tickets. I just ran around (had to run to finish on time) smiling the rest of the day. I mean: Röyksopp. For free. Yes. Also Bel Canto, Sivert Høyem, Frost, and other Norwegian bands, but Röyksopp is amazing live. I had a grand time with Karoline and the others.

Saturday I bought a new dress, I had the girls over for drinks, then went out with Christine, dancing, and had a fantastic time there as well.

Today I'm doing laundry (this makes me happy, I'm such a housekeeping geek), and I'm invited home to my parents for my mum's homemade meatballs.

This weekend is everything a weekend should be (I got my wages on Friday too). Happy days. I almost feel guilty, knowing that other people are sad/sick/busy working, but I'm going to enjoy this while it lasts. Probably only until tonight.

Two things

 1) New dress from a sort-of-vintage-flea-market (like the one in Fal, only smaller), 15 pounds (ish)

Wristband overload. And this is after I removed my Bukta 2007 one (more about that later)

Sleepy. Trying to make a list of what I need to do the next five hours:

a) go to the grocery shop

b) clean my apartment with my little dustbrush

c) get a screwdriver and fix my wardrobe door (as you can see in the background, it's almost fallen off

d) eat

e) send some Red Cross related emails

f) look good (this could take a while)

g) figure out what I'm wearing

h) tidy my room properly

i) drink, drink, have good times with my friends (this extends over more than five hours)

Roses and roses

 One I got from the Labour Party of Norway ages ago, it's been stood out on my porch/verandah/whatever in an old beer bottle that was left behind when I had people over for drinks.

 My new rosebush that my dad gave me when I said I wanted some flowers outside. It's pink, and pretty, and so unlike me, and I love it so much.

Emma listened to my prayers about getting another letter to answer. Look at it, it's adorably small next to my already tiny phone.

Today I might get a shelf for my books, which is good because I'm having predrinks at mine again on Saturday, and I'd like to have more room for people then. I also had a short day at work today, happy times! Although the morning was spent dramatising Descartes and his train of thoughts toward the sentence "I think, therefore I am". Philosophy stuff. OH well. I've just finished my Agatha Christie (which I can only read in the morning/early afternoon so I don't get scared), and am trying once more to see whether Anne Brontë is worth it or not (my mum has the dvd of The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, and it's got Toby Stephens in it... So I must read the book, so I can watch the dvd).

"Søndagstur", a concept. BBQ in Grøtfjord.

 What my mum thinks necessary for a bbq: Tea, a pan, and cream to put in the tea.

 The group of adults, none looking remotely interested in the camera.

 I should stop with all the fjords and mountains. But there is little else to photograph here...

 Tante Solfryd (my aunt).

 My so-called tea, next to my aunt Hildur's barbeque necessities: waffles and cake.

 My dad and his mother, Ninna. I want one of my children to take a photo like this of me and him in another thirty years or so. It fits perfectly with my timeline, and we will be about the age these two are now.

 We tried taking several photos of my grandmother and me, but one of us would fall, or look silly, or the focus would be on the houses in the background. So my grandmother gets this: she looks lovely, I don't even know what I look like.

 Pappa og ho mor (dad and grandmother) taking a walk on the beach. Love.

"Søndagstur" explained by a foreigner.

I've gone back to the Red Cross Youth, did I say? Lots of exciting things happening and no time for interwebzz. I have finished two letters recently though (which means! My Real Life Inbox is empty! Send me letters!), and I am having fun and I am meeting new people all the time, and happily not just sitting home, alone, in my new abode, like I feared.

One photo a day, maybe perhaps if I'm organised

The lovely Dina being fed to the horses by her dad, Erling.

Dina is absolutely enthralled by any animal she sees. She's careful with them, she only goes up to our cat and stares at him while he's eating. And being fed to the horses was the ultimate Saturday night fun experience for her. All the love for my niece. Poor thing, she'll be quite spoilt by the time there's another grandchild.

Yttersia

Today I'm going on a bbq with my family to this place, close to where we went berrypicking a fortnight ago. It's called Grøtfjord, and if you come visit me in the summer we'll go there (like every other Tromsø native) and have a bbq and look out at the Great Sea (The Norwegian Sea). This is one of the places in Tromsø that is on "yttersia" which means "the outside". I don't know if there is an expression like it in English, but yttersia is the part of an island that is facing the Great Sea, that is not hindered by mountains and fjords or more islands. Do you have anything like that?

The Days of the Week

A week ago: cuddly time with Dina. A hundred or so photos still on my camera because I've had hardly any time at home this week. Sunday night, after my sister had left, I went to watch a film at Christine's house (Corpse Bride).

Monday: work, home, thirty minutes to change out of sweaty cycling clothes + make food + eat, then cycle into town to go to a hosting course for the festival I'm volunteering for this weekend, then to the cinema with Ida to watch this film (beautiful, sad, etc):

Tuesday: work, home, relax relax relax. I'm not even sure what I did. Read, probably. Then two hours of philosophy reading to do and make notes.

Wednesday: work, home, a whole whopping hour and a half to shower, change, eat before going to town to a) get car keys + letters + wellies from my parents, b) go get my festival armband, c) go to the Red Cross House to the Red Cross Youth meeting (I used to be a member when I lived here and am now starting again!)

Thursday: uni, philosophy, discussing bioengineering and designing children, work (late), home, thirty minutes to change, eat, then take one bus to town and another to the festival area, for my one day off, saw Eva & The Heartmakers and Roxette, both Scandinavian bands. Roxette was grand, it's Scandipop from the 90s at it's best. Walk back to town, pick up the car that my dad lent me for the day (yays for tired feet (and thighs! cycling to work every day is tiring)), drive home, sleepytimes.

Friday: ditch uni (I know, very bad of me, but it's only one lecture), work, home, forty minutes to change and eat (haha, I've got a car, I've got more time today) and get ready for festival times, drive to town and pick up my dad who will take the car home, go and try to get into the volunteer camp and get my stamps to show I am a volunteer, work in the bar from 4pm till 1130pm, run out for five minutes at 9pm to see the last song of Kaizers Orchestra, walk to town and get the last bus home.

Saturday: stay in bed all morning, try to write this thing because I can't be bothered to get my camera and upload photos (they're mainly of Dina anyway), then go to festival and serve more beer (øl, øl, og mere øl!) to Tromsø party people. Maybe go out.