Yesterday a middle aged Norwegian man prophetically rapped over me. And yes, that is exactly what it sounds. And you know what? Everything he said was true…and maybe I cried, just a little.
There’s no way he could have known that the things he was singing/rapping were exactly what God has been telling me and showing me for the past few weeks…confirming something He told me a year ago. But that’s how God is. Creative. Unpredictable. Life is never boring with Him.
Sometimes I will want something for a really long time, and for some unknown reason, deprive myself of it. Like, I don’t know how long I loved Jason Mraz’s cover of “Melt With You” before I finally got it…and, come to think of it, I didn’t buy it – my friend gave it to me on a mix CD. (more…)
The other day I was taken on a spontaneous boat trip across Mjøsa, the lake here in Hamar. I was supposed to walk over to some friends’ log cabin near the base to see their pictures from a recent trip to Israel, and I ended up having coffee and homemade apple cake (with apples off the tree in their yard!) on the shore of an island where 1000 years ago human sacrifices were made. Ola rode almost the whole way sitting on the front of the boat while his son drove…apparently to even out the weight distribution. It was an interesting afternoon.
Ola and Elisabet have really taken me under their wing, and I see them as a sort of set of Norwegian parents, as they are about the same age as mine. It’s so fun to get off base and in their house or their boat, with their son Ola Johannes, and feel like I’m looking through a window into the life of a real Norwegian family. I loved how they just spontaneously decided to take the boat for a spin, just because they had a full tank of petrol and it was sunny outside, never mind that it was 43 degrees. 
Norwegians are a hardy breed, I’m beginning to find. Ola Johannes jumped out of the boat and was in knee-high, frigid water pulling it to shore of the island, then quickly whipped up a fire to warm his feet once we were ashore. Everything was so low-maintenance and I think that added to the charm and beauty of the day. The apple cake with homemade whipped cream tasted that much better because it was enjoyed outdoors, soaking up the last of the “warm” sunshine before winter comes.
That island felt so mysterious…I’ve looked out at it so many times from the windows on base, and that tree-covered land seemed to be the birthplace of a hundred myths. I remembered Ola telling me that they used to make human sacrifices there, which made me feel a little creeped out but fascinated as well, when I thought of the ancient Norse people living their lives here a thousand years ago. Even while we walked around on the island, climbing up the sacrificial hill and surveying the blue waters around us, the sunlight shooting through branches, I couldn’t shake that awed feeling, like I was walking in the middle of a legend from a distant corner of the earth.
I have a problem. Norwegians are beginning to read my blog. For the past couple weeks, I’ve had friends here make a passing comment in conversation on something I had written on Eeper, like, “I know you like brown cheese…I read it on your blog.” And suddenly, I feel very exposed. What once was a place to vent my reactions to this new culture is now being accessed by those who make up a huge part of said new culture! Crap. What can I write about now? Can I complain about the food or the weather or the way it feels when half the dinner table is speaking in Norwegian and I have to pretend I have better things to do than be part of the conversation? I will be either an object of scorn or an object of pity. Oh, and on top of all that, these are YWAM-ers…what if I say something “unChristian”? Damn.
Bah, this sucks. Oh well. I think I’m just going to keep pretending that no one reads this and hope for the best.
To be fair, I WILL miss many things about Norway when I leave here. Case in point: brown cheese.
Maybe one day I will blog about the rest of the list. Right now my eyeballs are burning and I think that means I need to veg out with a snack and half an episode of Gilmore Girls before hitting the sack.
I’m sick today. Considering the travel I’ve done, the climate change, and my crazy schedule, I’m surprised it’s taken this long for the cold virus to find a chink in the almost invincible armor that is my immune system. But I woke up today with a sore throat and a stuffy head and a general feeling of misery in my own skin.
You know what’s worse than being sick? Being sick in a place that is not home. (more…)
Did you know Esther had to go through 6 months of beauty treatments before being presented to King Xerxes? Well, in about 6 weeks I’m going to present myself to family and friends after not seeing them for 3 months. I will be in a dress, standing in front of people, and posing for lots of pictures. Thankfully, my sister will be getting 99.9% of the attention (she IS the bride, after all). But I still think I need to go through about 6 weeks of my own beauty treatment so I can feel cute and not worry that people will think, “So THAT’S what happens when you move to Europe…” (in a bad way).
Here’s my list:
1) Tone up with my own personal combination of running, Pilates, free weights, and Jillian Michaels’ 30 Day Shred DVD.
2) Whiten my teeth using Crest White Strips (thanks for including those in the care package, Marmee)
3) Hope that the porcelain complexion most Norwegian women have will end up positively influencing my rebellious skin
4) Save up money for a Mystic Tan when I get back to the States (I’m only half-kidding)
5) Find a date so that during the slow dances at the reception I don’t completely fit the bill of Single Missionary Woman. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing, I’m just saying…
The best part of moving to a new country where no one really knows you is that you can reinvent yourself as much (or as little) as you want. I’ve talked about this a little here and wrote an article about it while I was in Australia. This time, along with trying to change all the deep ish (meaning issues, not the other word) I wade through most of the time, I’m also pushing myself out of a few of my less serious boxes.
Case in point: team sports. I’ve always hated them…sitcom-worthy experiences in elementary and junior high school continued to reinforce my loathing. (more…)
“When I write, I feel like an armless legless man with a crayon in his mouth.”
Kurt Vonnegut
Maybe that’s why I just sat in front of my computer for an hour trying to write two different blog entries, and ending up with two long-winded, self-interested, boring pieces of crap.
Too bad I’m not like Kurt Vonnegut and actually an effing genius.
I will write a real post soon (perhaps even this evening?) but I just wanted to say, Wow! Thanks for all the comments on my Lunch Date post. They did not go unnoticed. Love it. It makes me feel like I’m not just blogging into the wind. So in Norwegian, I would say “Tusen takk” (literally, a thousand thanks). I’ll meet you back here soon.
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