Back to the 90s - or something?

 I went to cover a 90s party for the student newspaper last Friday

 But was highly sceptical of how people interpreted the 90s

I mean - neon???

There was a good mix of 80s, 90s and 00s as far as I could tell. Anyway, people were happy, the music was cheesy and the dj even cheesier. There's nothing like a drunk crowd of Norwegians singing to Fresh Prince of Belair, especially when they only know half the lyrics.

At some point there will be photos from my Oslo-trip, and also the christening, but until then, have some neon lights instead.

LETTERS

Really bad phone camera photo as of five minutes ago

This post is to say hello, I am home in Tromsø again, now with my family from Germany, all getting ready for the christening of my nephew Andreas this weekend.

Also to say that if you can make out my address through Emma's handwriting, you could always write me a letter.

Nicaraguabrigaden @ Strandheim

photo by Nadia Andvig Aboelenein (who doesn't like being photographed)

I've met my girls again, for the first time since June, and we've been working with our informational work, meeting other people in LAG (the organisation), meeting the Mexican and Nicaraguan participants in Norway and lots of others. We've been eating, jumping, playing football, swimming, sleeping, in addition to having lots of workshops and meetings.

It's good to be back with people who were in Nicaragua with me, but also meeting so many more people who are interested in Latin America. Yays.

Oslo! Nesodden! Places!

Tromsø in July (taken near the airport though)

I'm (hopefully) off to Oslo tonight, to attend the homecoming seminar for my Nicaragua brigade, in addition to the summer meeting of the Latin America Group, and then I'll have a day or two with my family at Nesodden before they come back to Tromsø with me - since my nephew will be christened Sunday next.

All the information. There you go. Things are happening. I'm a tiredface. 

Skarsfjord, once more

 Yes, we went to Bjørnnessand again today

 Met up with my aunt and cousin

Looked at that pretty view again

We had a small barbecue, talked, looked at the sun, slept a little in the sunshine and went home. My mum and I were lucky enough to get a lift into town with my cousin on his small boat - it was almost like being back in Nicaragua on the pangas. Now I'm a tired fish. It's so tiring having all this good weather, not getting any proper work done, not cleaning the house...

Chess

Anatoly Karpov, previous World Champion, playing against four contestants at once 

 I don't even understand chess, and I found it interesting

Especially when they blindfolded the experts

Instead of staying at home and working on stuff, I went to cover the opening of the Chess World Cup in Tromsø today, for the student newspaper at Tromsø University. I have no interest in chess whatsoever, but it was actually quite captivating. 

Then I had ice cream.

It's Friday, Friday

Two weekends ago, when we had all the sunshine

I've finished my text about land rights in Norway and Nicaragua. That is, I've finished the word count, but the text is still full of notations like (WHICH YEAR) and (QUOTE?) and (The size of Finnmark county?). And all I can think of is relaxing and taking it easy and reading books and more books. This is why I have to make to-do-lists all the time.

But for now, everybody's ready for the weekend. Weekend. It's Friday.

Norway, old friend

A recent, not too good, photo of my most photographed view

So, what's it like? Being back in Norway? This Thursday, I'll have been home six weeks, and it feels like nothing.

Because from the second day I was home, it felt completely natural. Maybe because I've travelled before, lived abroad before, and I've returned to Norway from England about nine times while living there. I'm used to things being different at home than abroad. I expect it.

And I fall, quickly, easily, into old routines of toast and juice in the mornings, eating lots of bread, wearing woollen jumpers, black tights and a warm scarf in July, going to cafés to see friends, going out, staying in, seeing my family again.

Nicaragua is suddenly far away, even though I'm writing about it every day (I am spending a loooong time writing one essay).

It's far away until there's a warm breeze, which is almost unheard of in Tromsø (we're used to cold winds, thank you), and a warm evening walk in the breeze with my mum, and I tell her all about the time at Rocky Point when there was a strong breeze, days on end, and we didn't know whether we would be able to take a boat over the lagoon to visit our friend. 

Then I am filled with sadness, because I want to be both places at the same time, and there are laws of physics that say I can't.

Red Cross Youth Summer camp

 Started off with some obstacles,

 learning how to cooperate,

 continued with tons of brilliant workshops,

 lots of sunshine and games,

and a tiny little bit of swimming in the cold Målselv (a river)

I was coaxed into helping out at the Red Cross Youth Summer Camp, which lasted from Thursday to Monday, (we're just about finishing now). My good friend Dasha has become leader of the district (i.e. county) branch of Red Cross Youth while I've been gone, and so, I both had to and wanted to help. For the first time, I'm not participating in any course or workshop, I'm instead in charge of three workshops myself.

It has been very strange, and a lot of fun, and too much getting up early in the morning and preparing the course material before breakfast for someone who needs breakfast to function properly. Oh, and this is the first summer camp, instead of the autumn and winter camps we've had traditionally, so we've actually been able to spend some time outdoors.

In all other ways it has been like any other camp I've been to. Meeting new people, meeting old friends, eating lots of food, staying up too late

Christine, Christine

Last Saturday, we decided to go for a drive in this very nice car

 We went near the airport

 But you would never guess how close we actually were

 By the beauty of this place

Especially in summer.

Skarsfjord II

What remains of the house of my great grandparents

This is the house on the next hill, Brorstad

Here with my dad, again

Apparently there were two brothers some time back at this property, and they split the property in two, so one brother lived at Klokkarholmen, and one moved to Brorstad. 

"Is that why it's called Brorstad?" I asked my dad (bror = brother, stad = place).

"Well...yes."

Brilliant.

Skarsfjorden

Dad walking along Bjørnnessand

 Me walking along Bjørnnessand

 Klokkarholmen, where my great grandfather grew up

Somewhere along the way

My entire family, cousins, aunts and uncles and all, like to go back to our roots during summer. When my dad was little, my grandparents had moved out to Skarsfjorden at Ringvassøya, an island outside Tromsø. That's where my granddad grew up after my great granddad had lured my great grandmother out there (through marriage), so they moved back to his roots as well. The past weeks have been pretty fair-weathered, and photos from this very area have been popping up on the Facebook pages of my family members all the time. So, here's my contribution for the year: Skarsfjorden 2013.