Northern Lights and a Dominique

 I'm far too impatient to take good Northern Lights photos, I just snap them and then run inside

 But hey, the lights themselves manage quite well

And Dominique was pleased (even though she doesn't look it in this photo) so I'm happy

When Dominique came to visit me in January, it was the first time we saw each other since June 2011. After the first ten seconds of disbelief, it was pretty much as if time hadn't passed at all. We still agree - and disagree - about the same topics, and are so different that we become similar. 

Every night, we went out to look for the Northern Lights, but we'd only see late night ski-goers (this is Tromsø), snow, and stars. On the third night, I got a message from an acquaintance who had seen my comment on Facebook, saying that there were Northern Lights outside quite early. We ran out, and it was really amazing and grand, and even I was a bit awed.

More photos might be on their way!

Borough Market and Greenwich, that's all

 with my sister on one of the bridges (I'm in the reflection of her sunglasses if you look closely)

 we went to Borough Market, which has all the brilliance

 And Greenwich Market, and as we were so close, we might as well walk up to that line

 But, refusing to pay to stand in front of a line, we snatched a photo outside the gates (mum looking as casual as can be)

And looked at the park and sat down and ate grapes

So, these are all my photos from London. Really poor show this time, as they were all taken on our last day there, really. Having a phone with a relatively all right camera means I keep leaving my heavy, proper camera at home, which is a shame for my photography and a blessing for my shoulders.

Abney Park, the Green Cemetery

 Yes, I went back to the cemetery I went to in January

 Because it's too beautiful (and sad) for words

 It's like a lost, secret garden

 Where plants and flowers seem to grow however and wherever they want

 Covering the paths.

 I brought my mum and sister

 Who also share this fascination

 about how people are buried, and when, and why, and how old and far too young they were

 and how peaceful it feels, at least in day time

 and how much history you can read from the stones,

only guessing at what's true and what's not, and how much you're misinterpreting it

So, yes. Most of my London photos are from a cemetery. Slightly odd. Then again, cemeteries to me are peaceful places, with hundreds of forgotten or hidden stories on the gravestones, some still being kept by families who care, some by families who don't know the entire story, and many seemingly completely forgotten.

New Year's Eve (Reading)

 Started out with baking cheesecake, brownies and gluten-free brownies

 And putting all the alcohol in neat rows

 Oh, look, I can haz friendz! I suppose Tony (Gale) should be credited for this photo.

 The party mood was high already from the beginning (Tommo and Jenny)

 Although it got better and better (the party mood, that is)
These were taken by Karla Smith and Tony Gale, I think (please correct me)

And we played this game

As you can tell, there were card games. There was drinking. There was dancing. There was hugging, probably some singing, eating of roast and drinking of Aquavit, and a little bit of fireworks seen at a distance. What really mattered was being back with my Falmouth crowd again, and it mattered so much to all of us that we arranged to meet up in London as well come weekend after... More to come!

I have been taking very few portraits of the people I've been with, and far more of food and games and ginger beers - all nice things but sadly not as interesting in hindsight...

Bristol

 was our first destination in the land of Eng

 and my Norwegian mind was mystified by all the sunshine

 so we went inside to the M Shed, a museum about Bristol, here represented by milk bottles

 and a guillotine hand-crafted by a French prisoner after the French revolution

 but also Wallace and Gromit, who are apparently Bristolian (this doesn't come through in the Norwegian versions)

Real props from the Were-Rabbit, I was probably too excited about this

Maja and I stayed with Emma and Lucy, who have recently moved there, two nights before going to Reading and Karla and New Year Fun Times. More photos to come!

Spoilt child

How most meals are cooked in Rocky Point - this is the improved oven

That's me.

I first realised when I moved to England and moved into student blocks on campus, and everyone else were exclaiming happily about the water pressure in the showers while I complained about the dingyness of the kitchen. The second year there, we moved into a student house, and my Norwegian housemate and I complained about the carpeted floor (difficult to hoover) and the green-painted kitchen. The others were happy to have a student house that mostly worked, albeit without internet the first six months.

What I realised was that even in (Western) Europe, where I'd imagined (I was but 19 years, remember) most things were similar, Norway is a country with a lot of luxuries built-into everyday life. Like constant hot showers.

So when I finally went to Nicaragua in February, I was oddly enough quite prepared for meeting the different standards. Because I'd gone to England, which I find weird. Yes, it did take a while to get used to bucket showers, and having to get water from the well to flush the toilet. But it didn't shock me. And I realised how lucky we were, coming from Norway to visit this country – we all know we're going back to running water and electricity-filled houses.

Then we went to Guatemala, and I realised that even Nicaragua was luxury. Not in terms of water – it's pretty much the same. But in being able to live in peace, without worrying about the state, or companies, taking over your land. Without an active military getting into your business. Living in Nicaragua isn't always that easy either, but people here are more relaxed – because they can be.

So yes, to conclude this jumpy text, I am a spoilt child. Again, sometimes I wonder what we are doing here, coming as visitors to see how people are living, lowering our standards, hearing what they've experienced, happy that it's never happened to us, and then leaving again. To super-ultra-mega-safe Norway, where hardly anything happens. Where we have all the luxuries without realising they are, in fact, luxuries.

A short story about autonomy

 URACCAN Campus, Universidad de las Regiones Autónomas de la Costa Caribe Nicaragüense

 People in the street, hello

More people in the park

I've written a far too long text in Norwegian about this, I'll try to keep it short. First about the name of Bluefields: There was a lot of piracy here, often sanctioned by the British Crown, since they looted Spanish ships. One of them was a Dutchman called Blauveldt, which turned into Bluefields, as the city was named after him. 

Spain colonised the western coast of Nicaragua, and England took the east coast, the Caribbean coast, where I am now, as a British protectorate. The indigenous miskitoes of the north collaborated with the British, receiving weapons and goods as a thank you for keeping the Spanish away. There has been a lot of back and forth between the British and the Spanish, and in the end the British signed a treaty saying that they would leave the Nicaraguan coast to Nicaragua, and go up to Belize. So they left, leaving behind plantations with suddenly-free slaves, in addition to the Creole and Garifuna (afro-descendants), and the indigenous peoples of Rama, Mayagna, Ulwa, and Miskito. None of them with a good relationship with the rest of the country, and never having been a united country before.

Almost as from any textbook on how to suppress the indigenous tribes of a country, the government went on to forbid indigenous languages in schools, and impose Spanish language, traditions and property owners on the east coast. The different ethnic groups on this coast were all seen as inferior. There is still a lot of prejudice from people living in the west and north of the country. Even I was told to be careful of people in Bluefields, because they are apparently a lot more likely than anyone else to steal all my things. 

Finally, after the revolution and civil war, there was a lot of will to change in the country. A lot of leaders from the Caribbean worked hard to create a new autonomy law, and they managed to finish it in 1987. The autonomy law is quite progressive, even today. It states that there are two autonomous regions in Nicaragua, the northern and the southern autonomous regions: RAAN and RAAS. They cover about half the country. The forwardness of the law exists in it saying that all ethnic groups are equal, and they are all autonomous, whether they are of Spanish or African descent, or indigenous people. This is pretty strong in a region with so much history about race and origin.

The autonomy law also speaks about the demarcacion (is this a word in English?) of land. The land that was once given to rich friends of those in charge, is supposed to be shared out as communal land between the different communities. No personal ownership. There are a lot of rules and regulations though, a lot of different traditions to consider, and even places where this is impossible to go through with, like Bluefields, which is a city where people have owned their land maybe hundreds of years. Others have their deed scrawled on paper, without witnesses or proper signatures. 

We are going to learn a lot about this (I have learned some already, as you can see from my actually quite short summary). I am already comparing it, and finding that others have compared it before, with the indigenous people of the Nordic countries: the Saami. More about this to come! 

Tired

Finally finished the third weekend of Red Cross Youth courses, this one held by me. Came home and thought I'd get lots of things done, ended up having a Downton Abbey Marathon to catch up with the episodes I've missed the past weeks.

Happy days.

Then sleep.

This time last year

I had just moved back to Norway, and was looking for a job and enjoying nice, "warm" summer weather.
I just realised that I moved from Falmouth on June 30th last year, and came home to Tromsø on July 1st. I have already been at home for one year, but it feels like much less. And while I'm happier here, and for some reason seem to belong here (even though I'm half Southern), I still want to travel. Long-term. And live other places, and learn about other cultures and languages and weird ways of doing things. I'm not going to Colombia this year as I was hoping for, so I'm looking at another year in Tromsø, but then... hopefully. Something. Vague plans ahoy.

And finally, London III

 I met up with my Norwegian friend Ingrid in London, ate good food, went for a walk and ate some more

 Sister did her last minute shopping an hour before we went to get the train

Hyde Park's all right, isn't it? 

Leaving London is always such an odd mix of green and industrial landscape

Last photo taken on the train which led us to Gatwick, on the very train where I put a hand-luggage suitcase up on the overhead rack (no, it'll be fine there, anyway, there's no other space for it) which later fell onto my sister's head, which luckily she had her glasses on top of, and her glasses broke but her head is all right, or at least, no worse than it was before. Next time I will make space for my bag... somewhere else.

London II

 My sister, always afraid to have too little to drink: At our short picnic, we had a whole bottle of wine, a massive bottle of water, two smaller bottles of water, two different apple juices, and probably some cider I've forgotten...

 Hampstead Heath was our chosen place to stay hydrated on this wonderful summer day

 One very hydrated, happy (we did have wine), out-shopped sister 

 Dedicated to Christine. He-lloo Panda!

Love walking from City to Brick Lane, such a change in buildings and environment.

We're getting there, aren't we? Today is two weeks since I returned to Tromsø, which has been behaving much like Falmouth used to, with snow and sunshine and rain and sleet in a big, odd mixture. Tomorrow I will post the last London photos and there will be a return of family + random nature photos, since this is all that happens/exists in Tromsø, unless I am reckless enough to bring my camera to an event - actually, the next event should be a Red Cross one, which will likewise bring nothing new. Celebrate the known!

Brighton, the one and only

 Flowers at the cemetery, never quite sure how (in)appropriate cemetery photos are

 I agree. So much stuff about the Queen's Jubilee, I'd say a lot worse than the wedding last year

 Went to the Brighton Pier, disappointed by the loud music and noisy people, impressed by the sea

 Amazing weather, wanted to be these guys on the water

 Kayung a few hours after finishing her year presentation and handing in her proposal, happy days

 My English hosts, celebrating a) Kyle's birthday and b) hand-in 

Wonderful tea-house with all the china plates and all the cakes

Brighton was really lovely. I was expecting it to be, and it was, although there was a lot more poverty and drugs visible than I had imagined. My first day, we walked past a man bleeding on the pavement, police dogs sniffing bags with white powder + police officers talking to shady looking people in a park, and a man walking unsteadily from one side of the road to another, while bleeding... All of this at 4:30 in the afternoon. After that though, Brighton was all sunshine and tea and cake and cider and wonderful films and nomsome breakfasts (thank you Kyle and Kay) and gardens and vintage shops.