Lunch with Linda

So Lars was gone this whole weekend for a training camp with his soccer team...which meant I had the apartment all to myself! Don't get me wrong, I love living with Lars and I did miss him (even though he was only gone for 51 hours (who's counting?)), but it is always great to have some alone time. I read, watched some movies, went for a walk, checked out the library, baked a cake and accomplished a lot of stuff that has been in the back of my mind for awhile now.

For one, Meredith's Jello Cake, which I will always refer to as the Jello Poke Cake (because you literally poke holes in a finished cake to make room for the Jello-y goodness). I was so intrigued by the adding of mixing cake mix and Jello that I couldn't resist. However, in Norway there is no Jello (instead there is something almost exactly the same called Gelé) and boxed cake mixes are not as aplenty as they are in the States (so I used muffin mix instead). The cake turned out ok, and I have faith that upon another attempt it would go from good to awesome.

The cake is super moist and seems like it will keep well (really hard for Jello to dry out, ikke sant?). Over all the cake was a success. I think with a repeat bake, I would choose a Jello that color-contrasts with the color of the cake, so you can see the cool swirls of the jello throughout. Meh, live and learn.

The frosting I made rocked, however. I took normal do-it-yourself whipping cream (called fløte here in Norway) but added some powdered sugar and lemon juice to make it a bit sweeter (it has no taste on its own) and to help it match my lemony creation. Mmm mmm mmm--it was really good and it matched the cake perfectly!

So then I had a hole cake and I was all alone haha. I didn't want to eat it all myself, so I invited Linda over to have some lunch. It was about time I returned the favor anyway; the salmon dinner with rosemary potatoes and salad that she made me awhile back still lingers in my mind! ;) I had cooked a lot of extra pasta accidently during the week, so after a quick email to Elaine the Step-Up Mom (try to avoid the term Stepmom, it just doesnt do her justice) for the best Italian pasta salad recipe in the universe, I tried to duplicate that here in Norway. Easier said than done. The finished product (served with garlic bread and sliced chicken) was quite tasty, but just not the same as the salad I knew and loved as a Washingtonian. I ditched the artichoke hearts and added some cheese cubes, which for me personally was a big improvement.

After lunch, the sun came out and Linda and I moved it on out to the balcony for cake, kakao (hot chocolate) and good conversation. She is an absolute delight and it was really nice to take in some rays and people watch the poor Hamarians that were late for the train. Before we knew it, three and a half hours had absolutely flown by!

And that settles it--time really does go faster when you are having fun.

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Trash to Treasure (extended)

When it is time to take out the trash, those living in the Parkgata complex truck it on down to this room downstairs where there are various dumpsters available for garbage and recyclables. Last night in this room I found a treasure! Standing against one wall was this abandoned white shelf:

I have been looking to buys something to put our shoes on for a long time, and this fits the bill perfectly. It even matches the rest of what we have going on in the kitchen (white cupboards)! AND....the price was right! ;)

I also created a virtual tour of our apartment! I haven't tried to take video for a long time, and it turns out that the video function is a bit off. The sound lags behind the picture for whatever reason so the end of the video cuts off. But the tour was over anyway...you just missed a couple more seconds of me yapping my trap, so no big loss there! Enjoy--hope it tides you over until you can come over and see it in person. ;)

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BuddySchool

In one of my desperate online searches for work, I came across this site called BuddySchool and on a whim I went ahead and registered for it. The site allows you to create a profile where you can basically offer to teach anything you want. The most popular service offered seems to be languages. I registered myself as an English and Spanish teacher, and just thought what the hell!

Almost immediately, I received a message from a man from Cyprus named Antigone (or at least with the username of Antigone). His message read as follows:

hello beautiful teacher. how are you? i want to be your students. i think you are the most beautiful teacher in this world. i want to improve me with you. take care

Guess I had chosen a fairly flattering picture of myself as the profile picture! This was not the most encouraging message for this website. It was most definitely not instilling confidence in me that this was a legitimate way to make some money. His next message oh so subtly said that he was single. Oh bother. I oh so subtly replied that I was NOT single, NOT looking and NOT interested in using BuddySchool as a dating site. I was, however, interested in teaching English. Haven't heard much from him since.

The next couple hits were a lot more successful however. I have been in touch with two or three South Americans (Peruvians and Colombians) who are interested in doing a English\Spanish intercambio (and these are serious people--professors etc.). And, most excitingly, I will begin teaching English to an 18 year old guy from Poland next week! AND, he has already pre-paid! I made 10 bucks!

Since the Norwegian kroner is so strong and the Polish zloty is so weak, I am only charging him the equivalent of around $6 USD an hour and with the time we are putting in I'll be making $10 a week. I know it is pathetically under minimum wage, but hey, at this point--money's money!

Wow! As I was writing this, I just got another request for a lesson from a guy who I think is named Khaled. (Interesting how only guys are asking me...hmm...maybe I need to rethink that profile picture). . . I looked his email up on Facebook and it seems like he is from Saudi Arabia! Cool! I hope something positive comes of this one as well! :)

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Broad Day Light

Anyone ever heard of Gabriel Rios? I have discovered his music recently and it is definitely up my alley. Rios was born in Puerto Rico, but lived in Belguim since he was 17 years old. He started singing in church when he was young and learned a lot of his stuff from his father who was a Latin\jazz musician. His music is basically ideal for me...His songs combine a lot of my favorite genres--rock, punk, hip-hop, pop, salsa and Latin. Here are two songs that I particularly like.

What do you think? Mere, I thought you might especially like the first song. ;)

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Work permit haunts me

Below you see a form that I have to fill out to purchase a soccer 'license'. In Norway, all players must have this license (which also doubles as insurance) to be allowed to play.

The form is generally simple and straight forward. All you have to do is fill out your name, gender, date of birth and some general information about the last team you played for and pay a relatively small fee and then *wala* you have your license and are officially allowed to play. However, since the form I have to fill out is specifically for international players it gets just a bit more complicated. The information on the front is the same, ... but they also want you to attach copies of your passport (no problem) and (drum roll please) YOUR WORK PERMIT. Yeah, no problem...let me just make a copy of that one real quick.

Are you kidding me? So now because I don't have a work permit not only am I not allowed to work and make money, but I am not allowed to play soccer either? UGHHHHHHH! My coach seems to think it will be alright, as do my teammates...just turn in the application they say. It will work out. I, however, think they are struck with some of the naiveté that I was infected with when I first came to this country. Now I know better--that rules are rules and there are no exceptions.

It will be really hard to give up soccer. It has easily been the best way I have left to blow off some steam. But, as I did with the work permit, I am just going to turn it in, hope for the best, and begin waiting.

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A long, hard ride

I have awesome friends.

Just when I was looking for something classy to read, a huge box was waiting for me in the Hamar post office containing just that. The package was addressed to me from a one Melissa Huggins (maybe with a little help from a Colleen Silcox as well?) and came all the way from Tacoma, WA. It included among many other scrumptious treats, a very sophisticated novel entitled A Long, Hard Ride. I am sure that these two ladies included this novel as a joke (and it definitely got Lars laughing) but I have taken this as a serious recommendation of literary genius and have began reading the little saucy gem of a book. I will proudly admit that I am 115 pages into the tale and it is everything (and more) than I could have ever expected.

The box also included 3 bags (yes 3!) of the most delicious, Easter edition of Reese's goodness, the individually packaged chocolate\peanut butter eggs, which are one of my favorite treats. The plan is to bring one bag up to Tynset to share during the Easter festivities and maybe to share another bag with my soccer team or 'coworkers'. Eating them all by myself, while a definite possibility, is probably not the healthiest option. ;)

There was also some peanut M&M's, our favorite chip and dip combo, mini tequila and Malibu rum bottles, some Twilight themed Sweethearts, some Target earrings (which unfortunately need some repair after the overseas journey), a funny kids Easter book, Phase10 the card game and last but certainly not least a plastic sea shelled bra!

It was a wonderful, incredibly thoughtful package sent by wonderful friends, and I am very grateful.

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The Bomber (edited)

I was pretty stoked when I got a library card a couple weeks back. The first book I checked out was an ambitious pick: Krakow was it's title, and it was in Norwegian. I chose the book because it wasn't overly long, seemed like an interesting tale about a woman's experiencing adapting between cultures and I hoped that it would be a good way to further develop my norsk skills. It turned out to be a dud however. On top of being difficult to read because of the writing style and the foreign language element, it was depressing. The book was centered on this woman's feeling of loss after her newborn died right after birth. I read 2\3 of the book, and finally gave up, something that is very rare for me to do. Usually I have to see it through to the end.

The next book I checked out was called Nowhere Man by Alexsandar Hemon. I haven't even given it a chance yet. It seems like a more interesting story and more like what I was looking for when I stumbled across Krakow. I am just not sure if I have the energy to tackle a novel in Norwegian right now however.

So on a whim one sunny afternoon I wandered into the library and this time into the English literature section. I basically chose a book at random, checked it out and went home. I pulled our chair out onto the balcony and sat and read until I lost the sun (which has now dissapeared altogether). The book was titled The Bomber by Liza Marklund. I got hooked into the story right away and was attracted to the strong female protagonist\journalist. I appreciated that she wasn't a perfect hero and that she was genuine. So I kept at the paperback, devouring the thriller page by page trying to find out who was responsible for the Stockholm bombings. I was totally immersed in the story and finished the book last night. Or at least there are no more pages. I am not sure if the story is actually finished.

Page 394 ends (*spoiler alert*) with our protagonist being trapped beneath a large stadium, in the bomber's grasps and with dynamite strapped to her back. She somehow manages to call the newspaper she works for without the killer catching on and so, on pg. 394 we are with the editor at the police station as they are trying to track the call. A systems technician is explaining how the tracking works etc. Let me quote the last bit of the book, and you tell me if you think it is a conclusion or not. (Schyman is the main character's boss and editor, btw).

He turned his back on Schyman and the cop sat on his chair. He clattered away on his keyboard for a couple of minutes, then gave a sigh. 'I can't find it. Are you sure the call came from her cellphone?'

Schyman's pulse quickened. Hey couldn't screw it up. He felt confusion mount within him. Did these people even know what had happened? Did they know how important it was?

And that is the end. Needless to say I was confused, and disappointed. I really am wondering if I am completely missing something, or if there are physically pages missing.

Can anyone recommend a good read, with a good ending?

< *EDIT* I just found out with a little bit of online sneakery that the book is indeed missing pages. 15 to be exact--15 pages missing from the end of the book?!?! Oh yes, that would mean that where I ended off was right at the climax of the story. That's a big pain in the ass.

But then again I know the book was relatively popular in the U.S. so it must at least have a semi-happy ending. Guess I can just fill in the blanks for myself: she lives, gets promoted, the bomber is captured, her and her family have a happy Christmas, and so on and so forth, happily ever after. ;) >

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Birkebeinerrennet

On Saturday, Lars' dad was one of over 14,500 participants in Birkebeinerrennet, or the Birkebeiner Run. The race is a snowy 54 kilometers (~33.5 miles) over the mountains from Tingstadjordet in Rena to the Birkebeineren Skistadium in Lillehammer. The run has been held since 1932, and commemorates a trip made by the Birkebeiner loyalists to save the heir to the Norwegian throne, Håkon Håkonson in 1206 (for you history buffs, *cough-cough* ETHAN, click the links to read more...it's a pretty interesting history). All participants carry a backpack weighing at least 3.5 kg (~8 lbs) symbolizing the weight of the then one-year old heir. The pack has a practical purpose as well, as skiers must have the appropriate ski waxes and extra clothing with them as well.

Vis større kart

Above you can see a blue line on a Google map that displays the trip's 54 km path through the wintery forest (try zooming out to get a better perspective).

The plan was to drive up to the mountains, park the car and ski in so we could cheer Jan Kristen on. Havlor, a good friend of Lars' from Tynset had been set on racing as well but couldn't because of an injury. So after a bumpy hour or so car ride up, Randi, Stine Lars and I parked, met Halvor, and started waxing our skis. The atmosphere was high-energy; there was music, loud speakers, a sunny sky. . . everywhere you looked there were Norwegians preparing for a long day of ski-spectating.

First, we had to dodge and weave through the junior skiers that were racing (they started much farther in closer to the finish) so we could ski in and meet JK. It felt a lot like how I would imagine a salmon feels when swimming upstream! Then we skied about 6 km in (probably 3.5 miles) and found a spot to settle down in. I only had a few embarrassing falls on the way in, which felt pretty good for an American girl smack dab in the middle of Norwegian winter routines. Did you know that there is a Norwegian saying that says Norwegians are born with skis on their legs? :)

Halvor had manned a good flat spot where you could see people coming from far away and could watch them long after they passed you. As the first skier raced past people began yelling the encouraging phrase 'Heia, heia heia'. It is also common to provide beverages for the skiers, and especially to those you know. I watched Halvor sprint alongside racers he knew multiple times with a special concoction of coffee and Coca-Cola that has become a typical request to provide an intense energy boost. Below you can see Halvor passing off a drink to one of his friends.

As we waited for Jan Kristen, we sipped on hot cocoa, ate some sandwiches we had made that morning and some kvikk lunsj, and we made a point of searching for the most insane skiing suits. There were a lot of good ones--bright pink, leopard print, 80's disaster-themed...it was fairly entertaining. Halvor's pals easily had the best ones!

And then came contestant number 4320--Lars' dad! I had actually been a bit bored before he came, because it really wasn't all that thrilling for me to watch everyone else cheering on people they knew, and we had been there for quite awhile. But then once JK came around the bend, I understood their excitement! Even though he only stopped briefly it was so cool to see someone you knew attempting such a challenging physical task! Plus, JK has a pretty cool suit himself. When he passed us he told us that he was running on empty...but he still managed to finish the race under the mark (03:59:26) with his time of 03:58:16!

Talk about some great exercise. Look at these people as they were skiing past us from our cheering post. Can you imagine doing that for 4-5 hours? Whew!

About a half an hour after JK skied past us, we began the trip back to the car. The way back was a lot more fun for me than the way there even though it probably should have been a lot more stressful. For the most part we skied back on the same tracks as those that were actually registered in the race, aka people that are really good on skis!

All in all, it was a great adventure and a telling insight into Norwegian culture. I think it would be really rewarding to complete a race like this...who knows, maybe someday (if I am allowed to stay in the country) I will join up!

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Banana bread

First I had these nasty brown bananas, and then...an hour and a half later they had magically transformed into this!

The piece I sliced off when it was fresh from the oven was delicious! I am worried, however, that since I forgot to cover the bread and just left for several hours that the bread is probably as hard as a rock, and thus inedible. Guess there is always still that option of throwing it out the window. Will let you know how it goes over on Lars's sister and mom who are coming to visit within the hour. I am sure they will give me positive feedback; I am thinking they are too polite to do otherwise.

In general, baking has been a bit of a challenge for me (especially at home) in Norway. At work, it was allright because we have a lot of tools and a kitchen scale. But at home and because of the stubborn American measurement system that I grew up with it has been a bit of a challenge. It is hard to convert cups into deciliters and teaspoons and tablespoons into grams! Why can't Americans start using the metric system? Everyone else in the world (besides Liberia and Burma) does!! For example, this recipe that I found on the internet (which saved my life) has two different ways of viewing their delicious treats: metric or US. Ridiculous.

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On Hold

I decided I wanted to give UDI a call since we saw on the website the day before yesterday that the processing time for cases such as mine (appeals) has been extended to seven months. A nice progression don't you think? It used to be two months, then it was three months, and now it is seven--SEVEN months. If we are counting from Feb. 10th when I turned in the application to the police, that would mean that I will not hear back until SEPTEMBER. This is a year after I came to Norway. I cannot continue living this way for six more months! It just doesn't work that way...I have no income, I am depending on Lars for everything, I have bills to pay, loans that have been deferred but not paid off, etc. etc. etc. Turns out I am not even allowed to be playing soccer when we get down to paperwork and licenses etc. I am paying to attend a class that technically I was finished with some time ago and I have earned a substantial chunk of money that I can't get my hands on. I feel like I am idling around with no purpose. And like I am running out of gas.

I am beyond frustrated. How is it that I have two job offers and I am not allowed to work? How is it that I am just supposed to hang around here and wait with my thumb up my ass for seven plus months?? And why the hell am I still on hold???

At least my banana bread smells good. It better taste good too, or else I am going to throw it through the window.

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Onsdag på norsk = Wednesday

After we took a vocabulary test in class on Wednesday we walked down to the waterfront and slipped in the back of the Hamar Teater. Our teacher mentioned earlier in the week that we would be going there as a class and watching the dress rehearsal of a new show called Rattus Norvegicus that premieres on Friday. What she didn't mention, however, was that she had WRITTEN the script and that she had used a lot of her experiences from our school as inspiration!

The show was absurdly hilarious, and well acted by only a three man crew. One Norwegian man is forced to take assess his own level of Norwegian-ness after he fails an oral Norwegian test (designed for immigrants) not because he can't speak Norwegian but because he doesn't have the right answers. It was hilarious to see him treated in a similar manner as immigrants are treated and interesting to see how generalizations that we as immigrants are held responsible for fulfilling or understanding didn't apply to Norwegians themselves. The play was a sharp and insightful commentary on culture and immigration, and I was really proud of my teacher Marte Monsen! ;)

After the play, we headed to Poesi as usual (Wednesday!!! YES!). The weather was so crisp and sunny that we took a chance and sat outside of Poesi in the plaza. We sat outside for hours, and I think we have officially recruited some more friends for our coffee crew. Yesterday Svetlana, Ali, Ihjad, Laith, Geisha (from Brazil) and Natali (from Chile) all joined us for varying periods of time. It was gorgeous and the sun felt so good streaming down on our backs. I think maybe spring is actually coming to Norway after all!

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Money money money

A week ago I got 3 000,- kr from my boss (he still owes me well over 24 ooo) and since I have been resisting urges to spend it all at once--on anything! I could buy three thousand kroner worth of oranges and apples at this point, it is THAT nice to have money in my wallet. I can't even explain how nice it is to be able to buy a frickin' loaf of bread or a carton of milk if we need them!

At the same time, it is painful as I watch each little ore slip out of my hands; it is really hard spending money when you have none coming in! I really hate this feeling of not knowing. . .

AND NO, THERE IS NO MORE NEWS ON THE WORK PERMIT!

Still waiting...

However, I have not just been sitting here idly waiting for the ax to fall. I have mentioned a few posts ago that I was going to speak with a woman who works for Folkuniversitatet (a school that offers a variety of night classes)(the little red owl is their symbol). I had seen on their home page that they were looking for Spanish and English teachers. Turns out they didn't have any open positions at the time, but the woman I had been in contact with wanted to talk to me anyway. Long story short, the 'interview' went GREAT. So great in fact that the woman began to coach me in how I should go about my first English lesson! Cool!

It's not as easy as it seems though. This job needs a work permit just like any other, so again, I am still waiting. It is comforting to know, however, that I do have other options in Hamar besides just making coffee and sandwiches. And, if I do have to go back to the U.S. and reapply from there, having a job as an English teacher is a much more appropriate reason for UDI to grant me the oh-so-desired permit of work.

*Also, for those of you that read frequently enough to notice (or care)...sorry about the ADD with the blog layout. I can't seem to find something that I am satisfied with for an extended period of time. Bear with me.

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Another weekend, come and gone.

I had a lot of plans this weekend but unfortunately wasn't feeling up for any of them. On Friday night my soccer team and I were supposed to go out bowling and then meet for pizza afterwards. I had been looking it forward to it as an opportunity to have fun with the girls because lately it has been a bit frustrating with what can most simply be described as a lack of maturity, communication and commitment within our team.

Friday just wasn't my day however. What is normally a very short school day seemed to drag on and on, and physically I just wasn't myself (and still haven't recovered since). Thus I was not all that disappointed when bowling was canceled because of some tournament or something. We met for pizza and did a bit of pigging out, which is always fun. I was a bit disappointed however because I didn't get to talk with many of the girls. I had come a bit before most of them and had sat next to the coaches as they were the only ones there. I figured that there would be plenty of time to make up for it later in the night as we had talked about going out after dinner but later it was only 5 of us. I didn't really feel like it was much of a 'team' dinner.

Somehow (I can't really remember how this actually happened) we had decided that we would have the vorspiel (pre-funk) at my place. It actually made a lot of sense to have it at our apartment since the pizza place we ate at is practically my neighbor, but it was really bad timing. In addition to me feeling under the weather, Lars was home, not going out and he had a game the next day (Did I mention we really don't have that much space for company? We don't even have space for a dinner table!). The girls (including our 32 yr. old assistant coach) were insanely loud and insane!

To be honest, the night was just a bit short of disaster. The drinking culture took over their typical selves (I think) and additionally I was just not in the mood (and much too sober) to deal with it all. Just imagine young girls, finally escaping the grasps of their parents and really letting it loose (they are not all of age to be drinking, mind you). I won't go into it much more, but it was extremely hard for me to enjoy myself when I a) felt so bad for Lars who had nowhere to go in our little apartment to escape the chaos, b) wasn't really in the mood to be partying with ass-drunk teenagers, or at all and c) was a bit irritated with their behavior in general. Sometimes I really hate alcohol and the mindset that some think needs to go along with it. It scares me and baffles me.

I will just put it this way: I really enjoy playing football with these girls and think they are a lot of fun, but maybe partying with them is not the best idea. I am not sure. Maybe it was just my mood that night (I was pretty grouchy). Who knows. Maybe I am getting old. Weird.

On Saturday I got to watch Lars play 90 minutes for the first time in a long time. He has been injured and out of action for the most part since November. It was great to see him play! Later on that evening, Martin and Sondre came over to watch the first round of Norway's top division soccer season. The boys ended up venturing out for a bit later that evening but I was way too exhausted to even try and I hit the sack early.

And Sunday Lars and I took a much needed rest day. Lars was sore from his game and sick as well. So we played coach potatoes, watched a lot of soccer, went for a walk in the sun and drank what was arguably a bit too much Coca-Cola.

And now it is already Monday again. How the heck does that always happens so dang fast!?

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Ankerskogen

I have been spending more and more time with my classmates outside of school hours, and have been loving it more and more. It is really nice to feel like I have some real friends here!

On Wednesday our class was released early as our teacher Marthe was under the weather. Instead of being annoyed that I was getting 'robbed' of school hours that I am paying for, I was excited because it was indeed a Wednesday, and that means Jean Claude, Ahmed and I were planning on spending the rest of the afternoon sipping on some good coffee (or beer, depending on your preference), nibbling on some good treats and discussing everything possible på norsk. Svetlana (from Latvia, and coincidentally the only other paying student in our class) joined us, and I think we may have recruited her as a fourth member of the coffee crew. She seemed to have a good time bantering away with us on countless topics and also expressed that she appreciated the opportunity to speak a bit more norsk. Big Ali came by a bit later on and the five of us had a heck of a good time...so good a time in fact, that it is likely that the people sitting around were offended. ;)

Svetlana had to go home, but Ahmed and Ali insisted that Jean Claude and I join them for pizza at the restaurant where Ali works (Alayna's Restaurant--Turkish food). So we trekked on over to his place of employment and chatted some more. We were joined by Laith. While we sat around and talked and ate some more, the boys were talking about their plans for swimming that evening. I have wanted to go for a long time and since I didn't have soccer practice or concrete plans with Lars that evening, I more or less invited myself along.



Above you can see a commercial video for the svømmehall. The pool is awesome--it is in this complex called Ankerskogen. You can also use regular work out equipment there, or take lessons in different areas such as tae kwon do or gymnastics (where I took the girls for Sanna's lesson). When it was opened in 1981 it was the biggest swimming hall in northern Europe, and today it remains as the biggest in Norway. The pool really is awesome, I must say...it is huge: there is plenty of room for exercising, playing and taking your turn at the breath-taking jumps and slide. The guys (minus Jean Claude and plus Ihjad) and I were there for almost two hours and I felt like a little kid again! We even ran into Svetlana who was there with her boyfriend, and I also saw Ingrid from my soccer team!

I get along so well with these guys from the Middle East, and especially from Iraq. It just blows my mind that our cultures are currently at war with each other. Can't we all just get along?!?!?!

On the way home, (when the boys insisted on walking me all the way back into town as my bodyguards) Laith said that they wanted to have Lars and I over to make some Arabic food sometime. I am really looking forward to this, and hope that we can make it happen sometime soon!!

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Barnevakt

First I just want to say I LOVE KIDS. I really do. However, I babysat for my boss's two young girls sometime last week--and I am not sure if I will do that again! I don't think I have ever felt so frustrated with children in my life.

Ingvild (a co-worker from Poesi) had said that she could babysit said evening, but she had some kind of parent's night at school which was obligatory, which left Jon Ole in a bit of a bind for a few hours on this night. He called me the day before and asked if I could help out for a few hours and I readily accepted. Money? Yes please! Plus, I think Sanna, JO's oldest (7), is a lot of fun. She has said quite a few times that her and I are beste venner, or best friends. :D

So while I was a bit nervous to be held responsible for two youngins that I didn't know all that well, I found myself on the way to my boss's house Thursday evening last week. And while I was only filling in for a few hours, it was hopelessly exhausting and difficult. I have LOTS of experience with kids mind you, not just with my nieces and nephews, but I have also been in charge of so many softball clinics and overnight camps that generally I feel pretty confident dealing with little ones' problems, needs, desires, and general whinings. I am talking dirty diapers, allergic rashes, behavioral disorders, boy-craziness, temper tantrums, runaways, girl drama, fights, homesickness--you name it. But man, trying to babysit these two in Norwegian for just a few hours felt like a week of softball camp.

You know when you see someone in public and it is one hundred percent obvious that he or she has absolutely NO control over his\her child? And you are really embarrassed for them? Well, that was absolutely and completely ME. Sanna had a gymnastics lesson which naturally the three of us attended together. Fillipa, JO's youngest, and I were supposed to just sit quietly and watch for the entire hour. Hello? She is four. That doesn't really happen. I had brought Mr. Sketch markers and some paper with us, but her attention span was only satisfied for a measly 15 minutes. Man it was a long hour: Fillipa is especially needy, whiny and bratty and she flat out does not listen. For example, when it was time to leave the gym (after I had already let them play 10-15 minutes past the end of the lesson) she was completely unreasonable. She refused to put on her jacket, and thought it was a great game to run around me and try to hit her sister, who was irritated at first but eventually played along and laughed with her. She was acting... so... ... childish! (Haha.)

The whole evening was exasperated by the fact that it all was last minute. JO didn't prepare me at all whatsoever. I didn't know what or when they should eat, where to find food in the house, what they were allowed to do, what they weren't, where the gymnastics lesson was, or even where the light switches were in the damn house! I had to rely on the kids to help me along the way which see-sawed the power even more into their little grimy hands. Not good. And on top of that, she is so hard to understand! I thought it was just the language gap between us, but Ingvild also couldn't understand her. It was beyond frustrating to try and connect with her. When I am spending time with kids I think it important to have a balance of fun and discipline, but with her there was no balance---not of anything! It was ridiculous!

However, JO paid me 300,- kr for more or less two and a half hours (his normal rate is 50,-kr per hour). Not bad.

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Jobs

As I haven't heard anything back from the NRC yet, I am assuming the worst. I really think the first position I applied for was over my head, and they say on the website that they have finished the recruiting process for the second one (the administration assistant). I feel like that means a bit more than they just aren't accepting more applications, and I am thinking I am out of luck on this one. Unfortunately.

So that means my search continues. I picked up this pamphlet from school that was advertising all different kinds of classes and I tuned in quickly to the language classes. They offered so many, and among them Spanish and English...hmmm...so later on I checked out their site and in small print at the bottom it just happened to say that they were looking for English and Spanish teachers! Allrighty then!

Needless to say, I was thrilled and I contacted them immediately. I sent them my CV (resume) and I have been in conversations with this woman named Anne. She says that while they don't currently have a need for Spanish or English teachers (who knows how long that has been on their website) she wants to have a chat with me anyway! So next week I will be going in to talk with her. I hope something comes of this...I am at my wits end!

*I realized that I haven't explained why I am looking for other jobs. I still have my job at Poesi waiting for me, HOWEVER I am thinking that if I get denied the work permit again (which I feel like I might) then maybe I will have to go back to the states and reapply from there. I don't feel that I will be granted the work permit for this barista job even if I go about the application process the right way (from the U.S.) because it is not a job that they need to import someone to do; anyone can do it, i.e., a Norwegian. So I am trying to find a job in Norway that really NEEDS me for my skills and talents. Then if I find something like that, and I reapply from the U.S. like a good girl, they shouldn't have any reason to reject me again!

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Africa<--->Asia meet the snow

On Tuesday, my classmates and I took a break from our usual language learning and got a bit of a more practical lesson in how to survive the winter à la norvégien! Via three full buses, all of us anxious and nervous foreigners journeyed up to Budor, one of the best local places to ski and enjoy the snow. I spent most of the day hanging out with the 'Middle East', with an Ali from Iraq (Big Ali), an Ali from Afghanistan (Little Ali), Ihjad from Palestine, Leith from Iraq (on the right with the sled) and my good friend Ahmed, also from Iraq. Ahmed and I wanted to spend more time with Jean Claude, our other third from the Wednesday Coffee Crew, but our rasta man was a bit too cold to enjoy the snow as much as we did. We couldn't even get him to try skis!

Maybe you can't blame Jean Claude. Your first time on skis can be a bit more work than fun! Above you can see Big Ali surviving his first experience. The man was fearless, and by the end of the day, completely soaked and exhausted.



While I was really impressed with everyone that was on skis for the first time, I think by far the most impressive moment of the day was how my Burmese friends approached lunch time. We had been instructed to bring easy BBQ type foods; it is really typical for Norwegians to bring hot dogs with to grill for lunch (it is also traditional to eat oranges and a candy bar really similar to the Kit-Kat called Kvikk-Lunsj). I was pretty impressed that someone had brought raw chicken, onions and cheese shish-kebabs to grill, but that was really nothing compared to the Burmese. I mean take a look at their spread below! I tried some really delicious noodle chicken combo, and they had so many other foods as well.

Even the teachers got in on the fun. Below you can see my current teacher, Marthe, on a sled with Big Ali. Those two tall ones really needed the push that Ahmed administered.

It was a happy day--there were no arguments, no judgments made...everyone reached out to each other and laughed together. In fact, I wish the world got along as well as all of us do at school.

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Brothers and Sisters

This is my little sister and brother, Emily and James. They live in Nevada. I love this picture of them, I miss them and I want to know them better.

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It's a small world after all.

Awhile ago at work a girl about my age seemed a bit shaky with her Norwegian as she ordered a hot cocoa with whipped cream. I shrugged it off, assuming that she spoke a dialect I wasn't familiar with. The girl who accompanied her however didn't even give it a try and just asked for her whipped cream cocoa in English with an obvious and striking American accent. I of course, eagerly accepted the offer to speak in English and asked her where she was from. The conversation went as follows:

"The United States." She answered.
Duh, I thought. "Where at in the U.S.?"
"Washington State."
"Oh yeah? Where at in Washington?"
"Well I am from the south of the state, but I go to school in Tacoma."
I couldn't believe it. "Tacoma huh? PLU maybe?"

It was her turn to be shocked and surprised. I told her that I graduated from PLU and we kept chatting. Then to my surprise, more and more obviously American students (the hooded sweatshirt and sneakers really give us away) came in and began to sit down. They were all from PLU, and were on a J-Term trip touring Sweden, Iceland and finally Norway. What a small world! What are the odds that 15 PLU students would be in Hamar, and then decide to come into my coffee shop?!

Their professor approached me as she had heard that there was a PLU alum working behind the counter. I told her my name, and she said she had heard of me. She then told me her name: Claudia Berguson. Oh ho, then I remembered her well. She is a Norwegian language and Scandinavian studies professor. I had communicated with her via email before I graduated while I was gathering information on potential job opportunities in Norway. She had told me in so many words that it was impossible to get a job in Norway as a non-Norwegian speaking American (that is of course unless you marry a Norwegian). Her email had really deflated my sails when I was first investigating my options. Needless to say, I assumed that she was more than a bit surprised to see me working there in Hamar. :)

But I didn't feel much like gloating. I didn't feel like I had proved her wrong at all. However, it is seeming more and more like she is right. While I have been working, I am not sure it is correct to say that I am employed. I haven't had a paycheck or much of an income at all since August '08. It has been MONTHS and I still have not heard anything promising from UDI. All they have told me thus far has more or less followed what Pf. Berguson warned me about. While I was bitter in our communications last spring, suddenly I was grateful for her honest and blunt information that she gave me. It was, after all, and unfortunately, the most useful and realistic thing anyone told me.

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Jante Law

As I was poking around on the internet today looking up some words I didn't understand from class (hoggorm means viper, rovdyr means predator and gaupe means lynx), I ran across something that really rang true with me in regards to Norwegians and their natural way of being.

Aksel Sandemose, a half Danish half Norwegian writer\poet created the idea of Jante's Law in his book En flyktning krysse sitt sporr (1933) or A fugitive crosses his tracks. Jante Law demands that people be modest and not 'think big'. Generally Norwegians try to see all people as being on equal footing. They do not flaunt their wealth or financial achievements and look askance at those who do.

The tenets of Jante Law are:

1. Du skal ikke tro at du er noe. You shall not believe that you are anyone (important).
2. Du skal ikke tro at du er like så meget som oss. You shall not believe that you are as good as us.
3. Du skal ikke tro at du er klokere enn oss. You should not believe that you are wiser than us.
4. Du skal ikke innbille deg du er bedre enn oss. You should not imagine that you are better than us.
5. Du skal ikke tro du vet mere enn oss. You should not believe that you know more than us.
6. Du skal ikke tro du er mere enn oss. You should not believe that you are more than us in any way.
7. Du skal ikke tro at du duger til noe. You should not believe that you are going to amount to anything.
8. Du skal ikke le av oss. You should not laugh at us.
9. Du skal ikke tro at noen bryr seg om deg. You should not believe that anyone cares about you.
10. Du skal ikke tro at du kan lære oss noe. You should not believe that you can teach us anything.

While I admire the underlying humility of the Law, I think this is a bit extreme. While it is important to be humble isn't it also healthy to believe that you are good at something? And that people care about you? And that you have something to offer?

The difference, in my opinion, is to yes believe that you are worth something but not that you worth more than others.

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