Sunday, July 27, 2014

Photographic journey through Arendal, Stavanger, Bergen and Hardanger

As promised, photos from our trips to Arendal, Stavanger, Bergen and Hardanger--enjoy!

Arendal


ferry from Arendal to Tromøy

Stavanger city park

Stavanger city park

Stavanger waterfront

city park



Sola strand (beach)

Sola strand

my husband in a romantic moment

the ocean was warm

beautiful Sola strand

lovely old house in Gamle Stavanger

street in Gamle Stavanger with beautifully-kept old homes


gorgeous flowers 

gorgeous garden

Stavanger city park, early evening
Bergen waterfront

sunset in Bergen

beautiful Bergen
Hardanger

Hardanger

Eidfjord

Hardangervidda

Hardangervidda

Thursday, July 24, 2014

Oslo-Arendal-Stavanger-Bergen-Hardanger-Oslo























This summer, we decided to take a week’s vacation and travel around Norway; our plans were to drive from Oslo to Bergen with stops in Arendal and Stavanger, and then to return to Oslo via Hardangervidda. We’ve been to Arendal and Bergen before, but never Stavanger. The trip was about 780 miles (1255 kilometers) long. We followed the E18 highway south out of Oslo to Arendal, and then as we made our way to Stavanger and Bergen, we followed the E39 highway. On the way back to Oslo, we followed RV 7 instead of E134 that would have taken us through the Telemark region of Norway. I’ve mapped out the route we took on the map above.

We had booked hotels for one night in Arendal, two nights in Stavanger and two nights in Bergen. In this way, we didn’t have to drive too much each day, and it gave us a chance to experience each of the cities at a leisurely pace. Arendal is a small charming seaside town that is a summer destination for many Norwegians who have cottages there. However this year, the town was rather empty, strangely enough, since July is the month when most Norwegians take vacation. South Norway, in the area around Mandal (the southernmost town of Norway), is one of the most beautiful areas of the country in my opinion. I really enjoyed being in Stavanger; the city has a very open feel to it, as well as being quite pretty. Its city park is beautiful, as is its waterfront. We drove out to Sola Strand (beach) one day, a long sandy beach with dunes and beach flowers. It can be quite windy there, so it is popular with those who like to fly kites. We took a long walk along the beach, commenting on the large number of dead jellyfish that were half-buried in the sand. There is a resort hotel not far from the beach where we ate lunch--the Sola Strand Hotel (http://en.sola-strandhotel.no/?_ga=1.143502581.1544536728.1406195460); it would be a great place to stay, perhaps on a future trip to Stavanger. We also walked around Gamle Stavanger (the old part of the city) on the last evening we were there. This part of the city has lovely old white homes with picket fences and beautiful flower gardens; they are immaculately maintained for the most part.

The following day, we drove on to Bergen, which is a beautiful coastal city, but not one for timid or impatient drivers. If you want to become completely flustered, try driving in Bergen. We had problems not only localizing our hotel, but physically getting to it. Fortunately, we managed. We had a great seafood dinner one night at Bryggeloftet & Stuene located on Bryggen (the pier), and also spent time visiting the Bergen aquarium as well as an old friend who lives on the island of Sotra that is located west of Bergen. It was pleasant to walk around the city, packed with tourists, boaters, and classic car enthusiasts, quite a different atmosphere compared to Arendal. We also spent some time listening to the street musician Gee Gee Kettel and his daughter Soluna Somay.

And then it was time for our return trip over Hardangervidda. The last time we drove over this huge plateau in Hardanger was in 1991 when we attended the International Society for Analytical Cytology conference that was held in Bergen. According to Wikipedia, Hardangervidda is the largest eroded plain in Europe. I remember being fascinated by the landscape then—both hilly and flat (plateau-like), rocky terrain, stones here and there, dotted with small lakes and streams and patches of snow, and mostly treeless. I had never seen anything quite like it. At that time, I made my husband stop so I could get out of the car and walk to one of the small pools to touch the water to see how cold it was (it was cold). Hardangervidda’s somewhat forbidding landscape was used as the ice planet in the Star Wars film "The Empire Strikes Back". After having driven over the moors in northeast England last year, I realize that Hardangervidda resembles the moors in many ways. It stretches for miles, and is often closed to traffic during the winter months due to the large amounts of snow that pile up on the road. Sheep wander about, often coming up to the road or crossing it, exactly as was the case on the moors last summer when we drove over them. When we reached Geilo in Hol, we enjoyed an afternoon visit with more friends who have a cottage there. And then it was a few more hours of driving before we reached home. In my next post, I'll include some photos from our trip. 

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

An all-encompassing rage

I haven’t wanted to comment the downing of Malaysia Airlines flight MH17 last week that killed 298 people before now, mostly because the news is filled with reports about the plane, the crash site, the bodies decomposing in the sun waiting to be transported for autopsy, the search for the black boxes, the confusion about whether the crash site has been tampered with—all those things. It is unrelenting coverage, as well it should be. But I have thought about it every day since it happened. And instead of my rage against the perpetrators of this atrocity abating as time passes, it has only increased as I read about the horrors that this flight and its passengers must have endured, and what family members and loved ones are enduring as they wait for information about when the bodies will be transported home to the Netherlands and to other countries. I need only read about the type of missile that was allegedly used to take down the plane, one that explodes under the plane, facilitating the destruction of the plane via shrapnel that pierces the plane’s skin in multiple places, causing the plane to shear apart, and my rage intensifies. I realize that this tragedy, like the destruction of the Twin Towers in Manhattan on September 11, 2001 that killed almost 3000 people, and the murders of 92 people on the island of Utøya and in Oslo by the Norwegian terrorist Anders Behring Breivik three years ago today, are versions of hell that are beyond our most horrific nightmares and imaginings. Hell exists, make no mistake about it. Unfortunately, it seems as innocent people are the ones who experience this hell on earth, not the evildoers who rightly deserve it. 

There is a lot of evil in the world. We cannot close our eyes to it. We cannot pretend that it does not exist. Endless dialogue and peace conferences are not enough to convert evildoers to good people. That’s a fantasy. Evildoers must be punished. To ignore the existence of evil, to explain it away, or to feel sorry for the evildoers only allows for more of it. The downing of a civilian plane is an act of war; the perpetrators need to be brought to trial in an international court of law, found guilty, and sentenced. Whether or not that sentence is life in prison or death does not bother me. When you drag 298 innocent people into your war, you may pay with your life. That is justifiable, in my book. If you live by the sword, you die by the sword. I don’t know how this particular case will be handled. I only know that there has to be swift and hard retribution so that the families and loved ones of those who died get justice.

But what does one do with the rage that one feels when faced with dealing and absorbing the impact of these events? I did not know anyone personally who died in any of these terrorist attacks, and yet, I have a rage inside of me that scares me. I don’t know what to do with it. It is an all-encompassing rage, an absolute rage, a rage that desires annihilation of the evildoers. It is a rage without end; years can pass, and suddenly I can watch a TV report about 9/11 or read an article about it, and the rage returns. If I have this kind of rage, what do those who lost family members and loved ones in these attacks feel? If they feel rage like this, how do they deal with it? I don’t consider myself an evil person, but certainly some of my thoughts are evil, in terms of the afflictions I hope the perpetrators of all these attacks will eventually suffer.

Monday, July 14, 2014

Taking on the challenge of doing push-ups for one hundred days

I quit going to the gym a few years ago. I could never get motivated enough to get there more than once a week, and I ended up spending a lot of money on a membership I seldom used. I liked the cross elliptical trainers best; those are the machines that work your legs and your arms (in a cross-country skiing way). But they were always in use, so that you ended up having to wait to use them. So, I'm now biking and walking as much as I can, having integrated those exercises into my daily life and routines--walking to and from work, biking to and from work, biking instead of taking the bus, walking instead of taking the car or the bus--those kinds of things. That's what works for me. I realize that I don't miss the gym at all. In fact, I wouldn't go back, because I realize that I enjoy being outdoors while I'm walking and biking. I missed being out in nature.

I decided recently that in addition to these activities, I wanted to strengthen my arms since I've never had much arm strength. Serendipitously, I came across a video and a website link that inspired me to start doing push-ups. Normally, I am a bit skeptical when it comes to books or shows that promise that after 30 days, you'll be in great shape, for example. But I decided to start doing push-ups. Over one month later, I actually do have muscles in my upper arms that weren't there before I started the push-ups. I can tell you that push-ups do work to build up arm muscles and to make your arms stronger. I don't know that I'll get to the point that the young lady got to in the video after 100 days of push-ups (I'd like to), but after one month, I have muscles that I never thought I'd have. She did it as part of the Give It 100 movement (https://giveit100.com/), and documented her progress on video each day. I'm challenging myself without documenting my progress each day. I'll keep on going, because I got results, and because I want to see how far I can actually go.

Here is the website link to Womanitely: 7 Exercises that will transform your body---http://womanitely.com/exercises-transform-your-body/. I'm doing some of the other recommended exercises as well. I can do them at home, whenever I want, and there's no pressure. Just do a few of them once a day. You'll see a difference after one month.

And here's the video that originally inspired me to try doing push-ups:

Saturday, July 12, 2014

What Georges Bernanos said

Faith is not a thing which one 'loses,' we merely cease to shape our lives by it.

Hope is a risk that must be run.

It's a fine thing to rise above pride, but you must have pride in order to do so.

No one ever discovers the depths of his own loneliness.

The wish to pray is a prayer in itself. God can ask no more than that of us.

Hell, madam, is to love no longer.

It is the perpetual dread of fear, the fear of fear, that shapes the face of a brave man.

Truth is meant to save you first, and the comfort comes afterward.

Little things seem nothing, but they give peace, like those meadow flowers which individually seem odorless but all together perfume the air.

The first sign of corruption in a society that is still alive is that the end justifies the means.
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Georges Bernanos wrote a wonderful book, Diary of a Country Priest, that I read many years ago, but stumbled upon again recently. First published in 1937, it is the story of an unassuming parish priest, who tries his best to serve his people. His trials and tribulations, his poor health and his feelings of inferiority are really what the novel is about—how he tries to be a good and humble priest, a good man and a good Catholic. Well worth reading. 

Friday, July 4, 2014

What I did before my summer vacation (one hectic month in the life of an academic researcher)

Academia is an unpredictable profession at best; for the most part, one never knows from year to year how much funding one will have to design and implement research projects, how many students one will have responsibility for, how many grant proposals one will write, or even how many papers one will write and send for publication. The unpredictability of the profession stems from the unpredictability associated with grant funding: is a researcher’s proposal good enough; will it get into the top ten percent; will it get funded, and if so, how much will the researcher get; will he or she get support for students and lab consumables or just consumables; and what happens if he or she doesn’t get funding. The list of worries is potentially a long one.

December and June are always busy and hectic months in academia, mostly because researchers rush to finish experiments and to send out their articles before the Christmas holidays and summer vacation, respectively. They are stressful months that have to be confronted and tackled before one can take vacation in good conscience. The odd thing is that the pace of academia is so erratic; during the other months, there are often lulls when one wishes one was busier. Personally, I would prefer if the pace was more even and thus less stressful during the entire academic year, such that the amount of work was spread out more evenly.

So what did I do from mid-May until now, before my summer vacation? I am co-adviser for a PhD student who has to deliver her thesis by the end of July, plus send her last article for publication so that she can write in her thesis that it has been submitted for publication. I am senior author on that paper, so I have read through and edited the paper several times during the month of June. Additionally, I have read through and edited her thesis for both scientific and grammatical accuracy several times. Most Norwegian students write their theses in English. I believe it is now a requirement, whereas their defense can be in Norwegian, although many choose to defend in English. Most Norwegians speak English well, especially the younger ones who have grown up watching American TV programs and movies, surfing the internet/social media, and listening to music. So it is not a major problem to edit a thesis for correct English usage; it just takes time. But this is what a senior scientist does—it’s part of the job. 

I also wrote a grant proposal that I submitted to the Cancer Society in early June. I spent more than a month reading background articles and writing the proposal, which had to do with treating gastrointestinal cancers with drugs that drive them into a senescent (non-proliferating) state. I was a peer reviewer for an article about treating colorectal cancer with a combination of natural compounds that led to effective tumor kill without killing normal cells, a win-win situation for patients. I was also an external grant reviewer for another country; this is often done—that granting agencies send out grant proposals for external review outside their own country. In this case, I learned a lot about treatment of colorectal cancer with adoptive cell transfer using tumor-infiltrating lymphocytes. This is a field I knew only a bit about, but about which I know quite a lot more at this point after having read the proposal and a number of review articles that helped me to understand it so that I could review it properly. I also read and edited an article written by two of my colleagues who asked me to check their review article for correct English usage and grammar. I also read some background articles about ionizing radiation and how it is used in cancer treatment; this was information I found on the American Cancer Society website. I am impressed with the information that is available there to patients and their families, and impressed with the writers who create these articles and brochures. Finally, I printed out a number of review articles about mass spectrometry imaging of tissue samples; this is a cutting-edge technology that has a bright future not only in cancer research, but in pathology generally, as well as in disease treatment, pharmacology and toxicology. I need to learn as much about it as possible in case I travel to visit a medical center in the States that uses this technology successfully in their research projects.

It occurred to me today that I could work as an editor of a scientific journal, as a senior adviser for any number of scientific/political organizations, and as a scientific writer. I do all these things in my job as an academic research scientist, in addition to planning research projects and figuring out how to implement them. One must also figure out how to do all these things on a limited budget if such is the case. Academia is really a creative profession, in more ways than one. 

Trying to understand the mystery of life

Apropos my last post, where I talked about accepting some things in this life (like my faith) that I know I will never understand on this ea...