Strike, Stoltzen and Sayonara

I'm on strike. Well, not just me, but a lot of teachers around the country. We've been on strike for a week now, and I must say that I'm enjoying my first strike. I'm enjoying it even though I did not know that there were so many things you have to do while on strike: being a strike guard -guarding the school entrances making sure that no one who's on strike tries to enter the school, and that none of those not on strike does the work we are supposed to do -, going to the striker's cafe, attending various strike meetings, and not to forget talking to the press. I don't know why, but in my young(er) days, when I was desperately seeking the attention of the media, the media did simply not seem to be interested. But now, when I've come to a realization that I'm actually not that eager to get publicity, journalists have a way of singling me out. So I've talked to no less than two (2!) journalists since the strike started, and who knows what the number might be when - if ever - this strike is over. So, what are we striking for, you might ask. It is as simple as this: In the richest country of the world, education is simply not prioritized. That means that you have better chances to get a well paid job with no, or hardly any education than you have after studying 7 years at the university, as I have. Education does simply not pay! This we want to change; it should be attractive to teach, but alas it is not, because it is not well paid. How will the politicians change the negative trends in international surveys, like PISA, if they will not make it attractive to become teachers? They won't, so we're on strike.

A couple of days ago, two girlfriends and I walked for the first time this year up a steep hill called Stoltzekleiven. It is not long, but it is very steep, with stone steps almost all the way, so it is quite a challenge for the legs. It is not what you would call a nice outing - it is blood, sweat and tears, not to mention a lot of heavy breathing - but when you reach the top, hopefully a few seconds sooner than the last time you did this, and you take in the spectacular view of Bergen, it is definitely worth it.

Today the Hungarians left. They ended up staying four weeks, unfortunately without getting a job in the city. I grew quite fond of them after the initial chattering, and I was sad to see them leave. Sure, Mr. Chatterbox and I had our disputes - like when he told me to buy wiener sausages instead of grill, failing to comprehend that I actually prefer grill - but the good thing about people who are upfront is that you can be just as upfront back, leaving no room for discontented murmuring behind each other's backs.

They have surely been a blessing to us. These last two weeks, they have had dinner ready for us every day when we got back from work (or strike), they have made a table from year 2000 and a piano from 1829 look new again, and as already mentioned they actually created a garden out of wilderness in the back of our house. Mr. Chatter (among other things) is a painter, and we now have no less than five of his paintings in our possession. I really hope our paths will cross again, and that I once more will be able to get a headache from too much talk.

Lastly: Rune Rudberg allegedly slept with 1000 women (but I'm sure this number has increased by now), and as for Kafka: I am still only on 1.5 pages. What's wrong with me?

Interior architects, lunching on a crossbeam and Rune Rudberg

I was at a party last night. My husband's friend's girlfriend turned 30. Shocker that I didn't know many of the guest. Besides, almost everyone there were interior architects, like the birthday girl. And what are you supposed to talk to an interior architect about? Interior? Architecture? I am not much interested in either. And of course, all interior architects are minimalists, as was the birthday girl, which leaves nothing to say about the interior of the apartment we were in (as there was nothing). So, this could have turned out a pretty dismal evening.

Luckily I was there with my husband, and as I'm sure you know, there's nothing like being with a person you know really well at a party where you know practically none. As long as there are people (or objects!) to make fun of, of course. This time, the first thing my husband pointed my attention to, was that the only picture the hosts had on their wall, was Charles C. Ebbets’s iconic 1932 photograph “Construction Workers Lunching on a Crossbeam.” For a long time, this picture has been a joke for the two of us. Not because of the photo itself, which is indeed a good shot, but because of the mass production of it, and most of all because it is for sale in Ikea. And as far as things for sale in Ikea, they have a tendency to pop up in thousands of homes across the nation, so also with this photograph. So, basically, it has turned into a huge cliche. But up until now, we have not had the pleasure of seeing it in any of our (close) friends' houses, we have just made jokes about what kind of people we imagine are capable of actually buying this photograph at Ikea and putting it up on their wall. Oh, the irony: Interior architects are that kind of people! What a great start of the evening!

Next, we notice a guy who looks like Rune Rudberg. Now, those of you who are not Norwegians out there probably do not know who Rune Rudberg is. Although he certainly is notorious in Norway, I don't think his fame has crossed the borders. Anywho, I always see people who look like celebrities or otherwise infamous people when I'm out, and I'm pretty used to the people I'm with not agreeing with the celebrity look-a-like. This time not so: Another friend of my husband turned up at the party with his girlfriend, and this girlfriend said the exact same thing to her boyfriend that I said to mine: "Look, there's Rune Rudberg!" Which surely had us discussing this Norwegian singer, who owes most of his fame to his boasting of having slept with more than 3000 women. Or so I thought. The other girl says: "No, it can't be 3000!" Upon which my husband quickly figured out that if this singer, given that he is 50-ish (I have to google this!) and has been sexually active since age 15, must have slept with a new girl/woman approximately every third day. Ok, I admit it: That sounds quite unbelievable. But if it was only 100 women, which was the suggestion of this girl, I really don't think that's something to brag about in the media.

The rest of the evening we spent discussing whether or not Alanis Morissette's "Ironic" can really be said to deal with ironic incidents. So, all in all, this was a very nice party indeed.

Oh, well; I have to stop now, google is awaiting me.

Mid-May resolution regarding Kafka

I have decided to take up Kafka. It was a strange meeting last summer, in the beautiful city of Prague, the city of Franz Kafka, which intrigued me. Meeting a French guy who was truly marked by having been forced to read Kafka during his school years, made me curious about this widely read, but yet rarely understood and even more rarely loved author.

For my birthday last fall, my girlfriend gave me Der Prozess. I presume it was meant like a joke, the fierce critique put forward by our French friend still fresh in mind, but I eagerly started reading it. That is, I read 1.5 pages. Then I for some reason stopped, and I have not read another page since. I have asked myself why a hundred times: Was it too boring? Was it too painful? Were the 1.5 pages enough to torment my soul like Kafka's soul (again according to our French friend) truly must have been tormented? Or was it, God forbid, too intellectual reading material for me? The truth is: I do not know. But with the darling buds of May, sunshine and shiny happy people everywhere, I have decided to take up Kafka. I will give him another try, and I don't intend to stop until I've reached rock bottom of this Prague magical mystery tour

Garden work and piano moving

The Hungarians are really getting a lot done around the house! I don't know if it is something about the Eastern European work ethics or if it is just these guys' work ethics, but our two house guests sure seem to enjoy working.

Bergen has had an unusual amount of sunshine this last week, which has led to the Hungarians having done a lot of work outside. What used to be wilderness or something of the kind behind our house, is now turning into a garden, with flowers, bushes and stone stairs. There is even a swing now. And the piano, which has been standing in the garage since we moved into this house in January, out of fear that the 200 year old instrument would end up killing the persons who were to move it up to the second floor, has miraculously been moved into our livingroom. And they even cook. What more could one want? Well, perhaps a little less talk. The other day, my husband literally forgot about getting to work because of another one of those endless streams of words. But at least we have a garden now.

A mind-blowing experience...

I got what I was promised: one chatterbox and one mute. I have never actually met someone who is totally mute, by choice. I've met shy people, people who are not really talkative, but this tops it all. Good then, that the other one is the most talkative person I have ever met. Last night I, quite literally, got a headache from all his talk. That was a new experience for me. Usually when people talk a lot, I just don't pay attention, but when you've just met a person, that's quite rude, I presume. Not that I care so much about etiquette, but I do have some decency left, at least when I first meet someone. So I had to focus, real hard. For hours and hours, as the stream of talk just saw no ending. And ended up with an aching head as a result.

Today it is going better, I guess I'm getting used to it.

Hungarian visitors

I'm excited, because today we will be getting visitors from Hungary. Or actually one of them is from Georgia, but apparently they are both Hungarian citizens. They will be staying here for two weeks.

So, who are these people? I do not know. I have never met them. They are sent to me here in Bergen by my mother who lives in another part of the country. From what I learn one is a chatterbox (the Georgian one) and the other one is mute (the Hungarian one). And they are here to try to find work.

I dreamt about them as I was taking a nap earlier: The chatterbox called me and said: "We have arrived in Oslo now, when do you think the bus for Bergen will leave?" To which I replied: "Oh, no! In Oslo?! You were not supposed to switch buses!!" I pray that my dream will not come true, and that they will not end up in Oslo, that strange city no one escapes until it it has left its mark on him..

Are you "always getting into trouble"?

Church of Scientology personality test

Scientology Church personality test

There has been a certain focus on the Church of Scientology this last month here in Norway, due to the daughter of a Norwegian MP committing suicide after having taken the free personality test that the Church offers - in Nice, where she was a student. What could be more natural then, for a bored 30-something at work, attending a course that clearly has no more to offer her, than to look this test up on the Internet, and take it. After all, I AM into Internet tests, especially the scientifically based ones, which this one clearly is, bearing a name that oozes of academia, namely Oxford Capacity Analysis. From thought to action: here we go!

First I had to fill in name, age, gender, occupation and contact info. Well Professor Cecilia van der Bilt in Utrecht, Netherlands (wow: Professor at the age of 24 - that IS impressive!): if you are out there somewhere and you get the Scientology Church on your neck, please forgive me. I couldn’t give my real name of course, that goes without saying.

And then, the test: No less than 200 questions, where you had three options; yes, no or something in between. This test is supposed to show you your weaknesses and strengths based on your answers to these questions. Of course; the analysis of your answers will only be given to you in full by a trained analyst at your nearest Scientology Church, so I knew that I wouldn’t fully comprehend my personality when not giving my real name and contact info. But since there was the promise of a graph which would give me an indication, that was a risk I was willing to take.

Well, let me tell you straight away: there was no such graph. Needless to say, I was devastated: I had (more or less) truthfully answered 200 questions about everything from my opinion about color bar and class distinction to whether or not I am a slow eater, and their response is to simply leave me in the dark regarding my personality? Of course, the girl who committed suicide had a score of minus 100 , so I guess the analysis could go both ways, but I’m telling you people: do you want to dig into your strengths and weaknesses - search somewhere else, because you will not find your answers simply doing the Internet test with a fake name!

Of course: the test itself is quite entertaining, and you might find out a couple of things about yourself by simply answering the questions. Then again, if you have a fairly good grip on what kind of person you are, you really don’t need this test to tell you. Take me, for example: I already knew that I’m not into meeting new people, even without answering a firm ”NO” to the question ”Do you “circulate around” at a social gathering?”. There should have been a follow-up question “Do you even like to attend social gatherings when there are people there you don’t know?”, and my answer would still be a firm “NO”.

Well, I’ve made a top 5 list of my favorite questions from the test. This part was really hard, since there are so many questions I would like to include. In fact, I could have divided the questions into a lot of different groups, my three favorites one being “Questions that might lead you to commit suicide, if you’re into that line of thought”, “Questions that, if answered positively, will lead to the conclusion that you’re mentally unstable” (also applicable to category 1) and “Questions that will reveal whether or not you’re a racist and/or a psychopath”. In the list below, however, I’ve not considered the category the questions belong to, I’ve just picked the ones I found the most amusing. Ok, here goes, in reverse order:

5. Would it take a definite effort on your part to consider the subject of suicide?
4. Do you often “sit and think” about death, sickness, pain or sorrow? (Here I have to say: the Scientology Church seems really fond of quotation marks: at least one fourth of the questions include some)
3.Do you often sing or whistle just for the fun of it?
2. Do you often give away articles which strictly speaking do not belong to you?
1. Do you browse through railway timetables, directories or dictionaries just for pleasure?

My very favorite question, though, is question number 200: “Do you sometimes feel that your age is against you (too young or too old)?”

Sweet mother: indeed I do, and I certainly dont need the Church of Scientology to point that out for me.