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.

Living

 Where we live now (since 2005)

 Where my dad grew up (in the early 60s)

 house built by my granddad, here with my dad last Wednesday

Insulation? Pah. We're only in the Arctic, after all.

I've been talking with a lot of people about the differences between Norway and Nicaragua. 

When I talk about handwashing of clothes, earning most of your living through farming and fishing , depending on the crop being good, but also making popsicles out of squash in plastic bags, most people in or around their 50s here in Tromsø say: "But that's like when I was little! I remember that!" My grandmother, who's 86, remembers every detail of a life that she lived fifty years ago, and I lived part of it only two or three months ago.

And I realise how much life in Norway has changed the past fifty to sixty years. How much wealth has changed where we live, how we live and what we live off.

I also see it every day in the charity shop I've been volunteering in, what ridiculous amounts of stuff we buy and throw away before it's hardly been used. The shop has recently expanded, but hasn't got enough room for everything people bring. And we're not seeing what goes to the other charity shops or what people throw away. What goes out - what people are willing to buy second hand - is a lot less than what comes in - what they're willing to get rid of. Completely new and unused clothes with the tag on. This bothered me three years ago as well, when I worked for another charity shop, but now I can see the difference. It's not just Norway fifty years ago and Norway now, it's Norway now and Nicaragua being now what Norway was fifty years ago.

A weekend holiday

 sleeping on a rock by the sea just beneath our house

at the veranda, reading political books all day

Man, you learn to care for the weather when you live in the North. In Nicaragua, noone has a thermometer, as everyone knows it will be sunny and about 30 degrees every day. In Tromsø, you can get a weather report by talking to anyone on the street. This weekend has been glorious, which means about 16-20 degrees, sunny and only slightly windy. If you hide on rocks and behind the wall of a house, you get all the sun, none of the wind, and a surprising tan. Photos (unedited) from my phone camera, because I've (again) been far too busy being outside to edit photos. 

My only excuse is that I have been reading political books from the 60s and 70s concerning industry and indigenous rights in the North, which happens to be useful for my follow-up work on Nicaragua here in Norway.

You know you're Norwegian when

(near Kvaløyvågen, Tuesday 23rd July)

you can't stay inside if the sun comes out. Even after Nicaragua, getting plenty of sun, I'm a very Norwegian Norwegian.

On Tuesday, seeing how warm it was outside after work, I cancelled my swimming and went to Kvaløyvågen with my dad instead and had a tiny barbecue. On Wednesday, we went to Skarsfjord on Ringvassøya, where my dad grew up. On Thursday, my gran came over for dinner and tea on the patio. Friday, we also had dinner outside and stayed out long afterwards. Today, I was supposed to clean and tidy my room for the first time since I left in January (and I didn't do it very thoroughly back then). 

But there was sunshine! So instead, I sat outside reading, I went to the beach, I had a swim (medal for swimming in Arctic Sea, please), Christine came over and we went out driving in her dad's convertible and took lots of photos and now it's late and sleepytimes and the sun is still up.

Photos will come, unless there happens to be lots of sunny weather the following days...

Svalbard III

 On Friday we went on a five hour return boat trip to the Bore glacier

 The black bit to the left is also part of the glacier - old, old ice and snow

 Look a glacier, let's hope it doesn't calve

 Seriously close, this isn't a zoom lens, it's 50mm

 LOOK, icebergs... wait... sheets? Flakes? Bits of ice! In the sea!

Proof that there were people with me, that is, my mum

As you may have noticed, about 90 % of my photos were taken on Friday, and about 85 % of my photos were taken on Friday on the boat trip. I've photographed both my mum and my brother, but neither of them liked the result, so you don't get to see that.

We went on this one boat trip. The rest of the time, we got up late, listened to music, drank tea, did some Svalbard-shopping, ate lots of good food, lunched with my brother, and went out with him in the evenings, testing Svalbard night-life (yes, our mum as well) and enjoying the brilliantly bright nights at 78 degrees north. Tromsø is, after all, located at only 69 degrees north. Falmouth is about 50, as far as I can tell.

Anyway. There should also be photos of tea and food and people and good times, but laziness and not bringing cameras and unwilling subjects leads to lots of glacier exposure.

Idag

føles som en vanlig dag. Av og til kommer jeg på at det ikke er det. Men så fortsetter vanligheten. Kanskje det burde være sånn. Jeg vet ikke. Alt er jo egentlig trist idag. Det vet jeg.

Svalbard II

 As we flew in over Svalbard, I tried to resist taking one million photos, only partially succeeding

 And when we went on a boat trip, even less success

Because everything is stunning, one way or another

There are no trees. The little vegetation there is, exists in ditches and marshes. The wind is cold, the rain even colder, and a "bloody hot day" (quote: Tore Johansen, my brother) equals ten degrees and sunshine. Svalbard (although I only went to Longyearbyen) makes Tromsø look like the Caribbean.

It's still stunning, fascinating, and spellbinding. I could live there maybe six months or a year. I think. But now I'm back in mild, warm, verdant Tromsø (I'd like you to know we have thirteen degrees today, and no wind), I understand that in reality, I'm not living in the cold, either dark or everlight north. My brother is.

Svalbard

Glacier seen from afar, fjord and mountains and all around it

I did mention I was going there? Just came back today, far too many photos of glaciers, mountains and fjords to be edited, will write more tomorrow. Have more important things to do now, i.e. watching North & South with my mum.

Family visit

 Andreas, with a pacifier that says "the best Volvo in the world"

 Dina, dancing in circles

 She's too camera conscious to get any other photos than motion ones

 Or bathing ones

Andreas on the other hand, is always ready. Or just completely unaware.

I love my family. That's all.