A young girl was buried today. As I happened to know her, this revoked all sorts of reactions and set off many slumbering thoughts, some of which worth sending down the Tubes.

I always found it strange how suicide is looked upon as weak, immoral and/or foolish, and I get upset whenever someone characterises it as selfish. If you believe that we stay around in some form until our purpose is fulfilled, it seems only reasonable to ask for a new chance to do your job, learn your lesson or whatever that purpose might be, if the current chance messed up beyond repair.

Isn’t that blaming attitude towards the passed person just as selfish? Sure it leaves a mess behind, but what kind of argument is that - should a wrecked soul be held responsible for the wellbeing of others even after they are gone? Maybe the rest of us even need to have our roots shaken once in a while to remind us what is important, like making sure we care for each other.

So in this country where ending your misery is a legal crime, one is supposed to choose life at any cost. On another hand, we are constantly told to shape our own destiny, we can do anything we want if the effort is big enough, we are solely responsible for our actions and you know the drill. If you follow that idea a few steps further down, it follows quite naturally that our lives are in our own hands. So while I mourn the loss on my own part, I respect the choice totally and would not consider blaming her. The rest of us are poorer than we were, and the girl is possibly in a better place.

(Also the priest’s talking about the sheep mildly following the lord shepherd reminded me why I like the independent goats so much. I cannot get my head around the virtue of blindly depending. It bears such a negative view on humanity.)
A couple of days before, I found a stunningly beautiful flower coming out of a green plant that normally does not flower at all. A good last gift for a rare soul.

May your memory forever inspire others to open their hearts and speak their mind freely as you did.

Photo by Michelle

A few weeks from now I’ll have a very satisfying Bachelor’s degree in hand. Also unless something  surprising happens I’ll have a masters’ admittance in the other. In other words, the next couple of years will take me further down the same road I’ve been walking some time already, although I do expect the next phase to be different and better. For one, there’s the postgrad props. For two, there’s only so many masters’ courses in my field where I go now and I realised I’ve done most of them already so I’m applying for a bigger uni.

I contemplated waiting a year for a program that was basically the same but with a cooler-sounding title, but decided waiting is boring. After all, the current plan is staying in Uni forever. As the current wave is that the at one point idolized eternal students should be doing something useful instead, this means I need to get a job there at some point. Also, it means the boundaries of Eastern Norway may become too small -which will be a tough one. The very significant other was fantastic and understanding when I flew away for a term on more windy shores, but anything more permanent could be harder to explain.

Funny thing. To me, Bachelor is the word to use for subtly signaling that a guy, however handsome or charming, is slobby. So, I have a slob degree. Excellent.

What IS slobby, there is no graduation. We asked ‘where is our graduation ceremony’ and the answer was there is none. The diploma comes in the mail. -The ceremony will come in two years when you’re done. So much for module-based educational system! This goes with the “no problem your course will not be on this year, you can do it next year” attitude of the Living University. How about we’re not here next year?

I want my square hat and gown.

Tanzania is hereby official.

Fuzzy 80's sunset photo

It will be simple. A lost and found phone will be my most valuable possession. We will stay in a bungalow (nicer term for hut) with “sort of a bathroom” in the words of the host.

Although Tanzania is regarded a peaceful place in African context; as Europeans tourists we are advised to travel in large groups and not at all after dark. Hard for someone who goes exploring first thing in a new place and a type of rule I would normally be flexible about. But seeing our in comparison staggering prospery, it’s hard to blame anyone for doing like a certain mister Hood and take justice in own hands.

Why go to such great lengths in pursuit of uncomfortable, inescapable heat, new interesting germs, towering barriers of communication and very limited freedom of movement?

It’s been said that you will never be the same having seen the Moon from the other side of the globe. Maybe I will understand things I would not if I stayed in the West. Maybe I can spread said understanding and contribute in making this world a more unified place.

It’s tempting to claim the altruistic aspect (the work part of the schedule) as a rationale for going, especially when people ask and don’t seem too interested in actually listening to a proper answer. That would, however, have been very shallow minded and just as selfish as other grounds. If helping out was the reason for going, the money would certainly be better spent if simply sent.

Someone said that the value for money is terrible when booking everything yourself as I do. I guess if value for money means comfort for money, I would have been better off at a hotel in Alicante. And I would return and not be a millimeter better a person.

In biology, outgroups are used in distinguishing characteristic features. If studying flies, adding an ant can be useful (Comparing them you can say that having six legs is an insect property, while having wings is not). Maybe discovering a very different way of life can tell me something about human traits. Could some of the things I reckon as distinctly Western be universally human? Or the other way round?

In my otherwise thorough History class in High school, one page of a fat textbook was dedicated to Africa. As far as I remember no one questioned the striking skewness. Since, the pattern has been upheld and in the country where “looking at your navel” is a commonly used phrase, international media coverance is either missing or horribly sensational (and the next person to mention swine flu is in risk of getting a fist. Obvious hype is obvious). When we never hear of something, we conceive it as less important and further away, not a part of us. To break the mental pattern, I realize I need to go get a glimpse myself.

People and societies aside, I look forward to feel a different air, walk on different soil, drink different (although filtered) water and climb some different trees.

To sum up this brainstorming shortly and a bit bombastically, I strive to expand as a human being and that is why I go outside of the yellow brick road.

It's a gnu life!

As a bonus, the change of plans gives more time for recruiting and plotting destinations on the Interrail route. Flipping coins is good, but there needs to be some anchors as well.

So; travel partners wanted for backpacking in India, tracking in Scottish high plains or abovementioned Interrail! Leave a comment if interested.

Lately I have engaged in very mundane activities, such as planning on Interrail for summer (there will be a separate post. In the meantime, please comment if you are interested in backpacking throughout Europe some 3 weeks in July), repeatedly informing rabbits keyboard cords are not edible (another reason for the offlineness but a very good lesson in fusing cables!), failingly persuading James (the support guy with the distinctly Engrish accent) that performing a 2h memory test is outstandingly bad advice when the problem at hand is the friggin’ computer rebooting every ten minutes!, catching up with what network theorists would call my dead network (they turned out to be alive and well) and reclaiming the rabbit fort (I am now the posessor of a fully functioning sleeping couch armed with chicken wire).

I still love random oddities and brackets.

Murmeldyr was started as means of letting people like yourself in on what life brought while I was off to faraway for what then was a substantial part of my close future. Partly to avoid forgetting what I’d told who and repeating myself too much, partly for broadcasting pixelated evidence and partly for looking back later. Close future very rapidly transformed into recent past, Aggy is back in homely lands and Murmeldyr has fulfilled its purpose?

Undoubtedly there will be more travels. In the meantime, your happy Marmot will be busy typing rants and wry outlooks in the Murmle (”grumbling”) section.

As any social blog is incomplete without a section for “hey look what I found!” I created it and called it Findings. I am sure there will be more findings as well.

Till next time, have some duckling on acid!

Norway: Cold in more than one way

The people of this country scare me sometimes. Since I came back, I have been trodded on, sneaked past in shops several times, been ignored by service personnel and generally been treated as Norwegian people treat their neighbors. Compared to the caring strangers I met in Aberdeen, my countryfellows remind me of zombies. The emotionless crowd really freaks me out.

I did not mind before. Now I am not used to it anymore. Everyone acts as though they are alone, even on a crowded street, taking great care to not ever look anyone in the face or in any other way acknowledge their existence. And, as they are alone, there is no need to keep a passage open where space is limited, or wait for their turn where there is no ordered line. It seems unnatural. I am having nightmares about being attacked in the middle of Oslo and empty-eyed people wander past without ever interfering, watching the scene indifferently for a second as they pass. Then I am left bleeding on the ground and the gray mass of people fill the gap, walking right through me.

Stand out in the crowd!

I know that we are a shy people and do not want to bother others. But do we need to treat everyone as though they were invisible? The peer pressure to do so is intense; the other person’s uneasiness if you are as rude as to break the pattern is so visible and it is so much easier to conform. But respect comes to the one who dares to stand out, and I still believe we are a caring people - just why do we not dare to show it and make the world a happier place?

This post is not about you. It is about everyone else. I know you can think of several times when you treated a stranger well. Actually I don’t think many people at all will feel this is about them. Still, this is a very real experience I have. If you feel the tiniest bit touched by this, please regard it as food for thought.

Wow! I am going to have to moderate yesterday’s post substantially. While I’m still as puzzled by the selective blindness I’ve seen many times, the people of Oslo have proven that there’s still solid numbers of people who care. When a city of half a million can present 40 000+ people for a procession, there must still be hope. Alas, as I was hindered from participating and the media seem to focus solely on a different, violent demonstration the same night, I haven’t been able to find pictures from the procession.

Meanwhile, the Israeli government is still ignoring the UN and blocking the border, even for Redcross!

In danger of reducing Murmeldyr to a collection of links to good causes, I give you a few channels to show concern:
Call from Palestinian human rights organizations to UN, EU and the Geneva Council

Avaaz’ petition to the UN, EU, Arab League and USA for negotiations instead of force

Petition by the whole Norwegian left wing and workers’ federations to the Norwegian government to remove its investments in Israel -a powerful message

16:30: OK so I was off to the post office to dispatch a middle-sized mountain of winter presents. Walking the bike and balancing the stuff on it, as the Spar post office is on the way to the bike library and as I go home on Friday my issue needs returning. Post office closes at 17.30, bike library at 18, and they are quite close to each other, 15 minutes walk from the halls. I had all the time in the world. When I was there earlier to enquire about sending things abroad, I was told there was a fixed rate by weight “unless the package was insanely heavy”. And they sold boxes, which I was going to need as a lot of the people I’m sending to seem to live in the same housholds. How convenient, much easier than the confusing Norwegian system where you should use “Smartpost” for heavy stuff but using it for lighter things is rather unsmart…

Well, with my two sacks, one large box, backpack and bike I only lacked a red hat to be confused for Santa, and the rolling present-mountain was rather slow, and the weather was getting more and more Scottish. One guy (let’s say for decency’s sake that I know him) saw my struggle and pulled over to ask if I needed a ride and as much as I prefer fixing my to-dos on my own I happily locked the bike and jumped in.

When my friend turned the wrong way on King street (with Post office only a few blocks away) I thought he was making fun of me. The rationale, it turned out, was it would have taken quite a while to drive there with the heavy traffic, even though the distance was short. Instead we drove to another post office nearby. Although I said it was not necessary, he insisted on waiting to take me back - good thing, ’cause just then I realised this office is closed on Wednesdays. We went some back road to another office he knew, and by this point I had no clue where we were so when he offered to wait I was all yesses.

16.50: First turndown was the line snaking throughout the shop.

Lookie, a dedicated CSI magazine! (Just need to sweet talk the server to serve me the photo, watch this space!)

The lady serving me had a “manager” badge and I thought; cool, from now everything will run smoothly.
First parcel; Too heavy for the scale, louud siigh from the manager. Parcel is weighed on special scale n the far corner.
-So that’s 35 pounds.
-What?!
-35 pounds.
-What was the weight again?
-2.2 kilograms.
Wohw, that’s more than paying overweight on the plane and it’s more than twice the worth of the contents, but I guess it’s the price…
Filling in a customs form stating the contents in detail kind of takes from the secrecy of the presents too.
-But why is it so expensive? (After all, sending cards to my Norwegian pals is actually cheaper from here than from home, so the extensive charge for packages puzzled me)
-Because it is over 2 kg.
-So how much would it be for sending something of 2 kgs?
(cutting me off sharply) -I have no idea.
-… Could you please find it out for me?
(loud sigh) *punch punch* -11 pounds.
-So it’s 24 pounds for the last 200 grams?!
-That’s why I told you the price.
-Then I need to repack it. Can you please give me my parcel back? I am really sorry about this.
-That is not possible.
-But it is right there on the desk!
-Once it is in the system, there is no way of getting it out again.
-This is ridiculous! I was told there was a flat rate based on the weight of the package!
-That’s only up to 2 kg. I told you the price and you accepted it.
-But you did not say there was that kind of charge for the last 200 grams.
-That’s why I told you the price. I don’t even know how to get it out of the system now.
-I’m sure there is someone here who does know.

Manager lady is very unmovable on this.

*Puppy eyes go blinkblink*

Manager lady rips off the labels from my package and hands it to me with a face made of stone. Puppy eyes made the impossible possible! It’s funny how “It is not as offpaying” is rephrased as “It is not possible” with companies with no competition.

Next package is too small. Huh? Yep, too small, impossible to send. Can’t fit the labels on it.
Next package is unsendable as well, as this office does not sell the box I need to send it in. Or it does, but the box has to be paid at another counter, and if I step out of the line I will not be admitted in again as it’s 15 minutes to closing time.

17.45 So I stand in the pouring rain, still with my presents, without the bike and far away from home, and by this time it’s dark and the bicycle library is closing. Empathic minds will feel my miserableness in those moments.
Somehow by some hidden instinct I found my way home, wrote most of this post, got a phone call “Where are you! It’s fun out!” and promptly left, had a blast of a night and finished the post before going off to the land of dreams.

Thanks for reading, it wasn’t meant to be coherent.

So what do you do? [Icebreaker phrase alarm! Aight, I know what's coming]
-Biochemistry. (The degree is really called Biotechnology, but biochem more/less covers it and saves some definition of terms to someone who’s not terribly interested anyway. Also, it’s easier to pronounce.)
-Whoah! *drawing slightly back* Science is so hard! Why do you do it?

That is the standard response. For the first; I only said what field I’m in, not whether I’m any good at it so no need for awe. For the second; it’s a lot easier than medicine or engineering, and I prefer it over human sciences because it’s dependable and replicable and I like hard facts. For the third, I can make living things glow in the dark. Isn’t that reason enough?

Glowing Mushrooms

Also, in a few years I can titulate myself [roaring voice] Master of Science [/roaring voice].

Two weeks to go and I guess it’s time to sum up some experiences.

First of all, the Scots are the best people in the world and that is for sure. Easy going and real folks. Much easier to get to know than the shy Norwegians.

The stereotype of them being greedy (as conferred by a certain McDuck) does not seem to hold much truth - although not big spenders, they are very sharing. I haven’t seen much of the proposed nationalism either, although Aberdeen might hold a special position in that sense with the very multicultural Uni and many foreign oil workers.

The weather stereotype, on the other hand, is nothing but true. Sun is rare and appreciated.

Cheese equals cheddar. There may be fifty cheeses to choose from, but all are cheddars. If you aren’t a big fan of cheddar, you’re not getting cheese.

For the language, some people are almost undechipherable -even for the English. Although I haven’t picked up as much as I hoped, I do hope people won’t think I’m talking about pee when I go home and keep referring to small things as wee…

Oh, and did you think “allspice” referred to the magic mix of salt, chili, peppers and garlic that just blends into any food so you don’t even know it’s there? I did. What I got was a crazy blend of cinnamon and curry. Nothing can surprise me now! Be sure to read the label of spice blends, is all I can say.

Generic update: I’m quarreling with my computers, this is why my blogging has been less than great lately. So today I was at PC World (the shop, not the magazine) to update things - mine are over four years now and both are being bad-tempered, so I believe it can be justified. But for Miss Irresolute the choice is overwhelming and I have a really hard time narrowing it down: The cheapest and easiest would be to get one of the handy webbooks, specifically this cutie.

acus eee 900

More useful still would be to get a powerful tabletop, but what’s up with the wobbly hipster machines bloated with useless multimedia stuff, totally dominating the market? It’s as though I needed a tractor and was offered a Vespa. I’ve looked at a few business models but as I prefer staying below the kilo£ the only one I’ve found yet is this.

HP Compaq 6715b

I don’t even have a very good impression of HP stuff but that may be because my experience is from cheap models (which sound like squeaky toys when you touch them) and this is said to be solid. Any suggestions folks?

Also, as much as I hate buying new stuff (inner environmentalist weeps) I realise I’m going to need a new phone in a few weeks too, as I don’t believe Vodafone will unlock mine for use on foreign latitudes any time soon. What does Murmeldyr think of released-yesterday SE W902?

SE W902

It’s kind of crap to pay for a cybershot when I’d prefer no cam at all, but I’ve more/less given up that part as only the grandma range of phones come without it and when it has to be there why not make it a decent one…

Tech stuff aside, I’ve been blessed with visits by two of the most shining people I know: Babysis, who is soaring through uni and really challenging my position as the smarter sister (So proud of you!) and Balanse, the most inspiring person who I wish I could spend more time with (why did you have to move so far away!). Way too short of course, but we had a good time walking on the beach, having a good laugh of a guy who was not friends with his sailboard at all, seeing a bit of the city and my pretty campus and having dinner at an old church that has been totally refurbished into an impressive Dracula atmosphere which would have been very complete if they had dared cut the chart music.

Some guy who had tremendous troubles with his sailboard-thing

On Friday I saw The four seasons by candlelight. Finding it was really an adventure, none of us had done the map research beforehand so we went to town at random and asked people. The third venue was the right one, and we arrived just on time to the show! It was really awesome, the candle light was fake but the powdered wigs, velvet knickers and brocade coats were real as can be. Meanwhile, Bolt was watching his fav comedian , which I detest as much as he despises classical music so both were quite happy to be some hundred miles apart just that evening. Win-win!

sneak-shot of Summer.

Tuesday was the 10 year anniversary of the Shared Planet society, the one with the awesome atmosphere. Held at the Tunnels downtown, it was a fun night with killer music and we stayed much longer than planned. I’d give you a link but Google only gives me resources on tunnel vision… This time too we did quite a bit of walking up and down the street before finally finding it. Good thing I was not allowed in the scouts back in the days, how could I find my way in a forest when I can’t in a town with one high street?

There are some pretty artistic people in this bunch

I suspect Jodie to be the artist behind this.

Also, I’ve been to my first real American thanksgiving party tonight. With baby turkey (erm, chicken), three kinds of haggis and sushi! I learnt that mincemeat pies contain neither mince nor meat, but rather Christmas pudding. Weirdness… The thought of a day dedicated to being thankful is both appealing and appalling: it’s nice to have a timeslot when you really have to count your blessings, but if that means you’ve been thankful for the rest of the year… What I’m trying to say is, can you force thankfulness or will the forcing part destroy the spontanity? Also it’s interesting to note there’s no harvest feast in Norway anymore. Shouldn’t that be a very natural tradition in any society? I mean, sure most people don’t farm anymore, but we do celebrate the Christian holidays even though Christians seem to be a crumbling minority up there. The relevance may be smaller than before but the tradition stays.

Weirdest beer ever

Badger beer - golden glory. Erm, does anyone else find that NOT appealing? Note the foam still coming out after having poured good half pint. This is why beer is not to be stored in the freezer.

So, it’s been a very social week but my courses are mostly closing and I feel ahead of the rest so it’s fine mum.