Wednesday, January 2, 2013
New Year's Eve in Oslo
At the end of each year, on New Year's Eve, Oslo inhabitants celebrate the arrival of the new year by setting off fireworks. This has been going on since I arrived in Oslo some twenty odd years ago. It's one of the highlights of New Year's Eve in my book. We never did this on New Year's Eve when I was growing up in Tarrytown. Fireworks were usually reserved for Fourth of July celebrations, but I know that you can go into New York City to watch fireworks on New Year's Eve; I'm not sure how long that has been going on. In our Oslo neighborhood, crowds of people, young and old alike, gather near the Akerselva river, on the bridge near the Hønsa Lovisa house. Some of them are there to watch, others are there to set off fireworks. Many people are holding bottles of champagne and glasses so that they can drink a toast to the new year with their loved ones and friends. The fireworks start right before midnight, and continue for about fifteen minutes. In later years, the city of Oslo has also sponsored a spectacular fireworks display down at the harbor, and that draws thousands of people. We haven't gone down to the harbor to watch them; we can actually see them fairly well, if the night is clear, from where we live. I enjoy watching the fireworks displays in our neighborhood. Here are some photos of them. Enjoy, and a happy new year to you all!
Monday, December 31, 2012
Winter comes to Norway
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Christmas potpourri
So many wonderful fragrances and colors at Christmas time, starting with the wonderful evergreen fragrance that emanates from the Christmas tree. Every time you walk through the front door, the first smell you smell is the Christmas tree. This year there were several new ornaments that joined the ornament fold, and they were a welcome sight on the tree.
And then there are the Christmas flowers--amaryllises and poinsettias--so beautiful to look at as they grow and flower during December. This year our three amaryllises had three different colors, white, red, and white with red stripes.
My indoor orange tree produced over sixty small oranges this year; the tree 'casts' the oranges to the floor when they are ripe, quite funny to witness and to listen to when sitting in our living room, as you can hear them rolling along the floor before they hit a piece of furniture. These small fragrant oranges find their way into the smoothies we make each morning.
And as far as fragrances go, I have to mention the Christmas food--especially the smell of boneless pork ribs rolled in and roasted together with garlic, fennel seed, rosemary, sage and thyme that we ate for dinner on Christmas Day, served together with a potpourri of vegetables (eggplant, squash cherry tomatoes, and potatoes). The pork tasted as good as it smelled while roasting in the oven.
Also made duck with orange sauce for Christmas Eve, served together with asparagus, broccoli and orange pieces; it too was very good and very colorful.
Other dinners have included boiled cod one evening, and elk steak another evening, and we're not done yet--my husband will be making salted sheep ribs for New Year's Eve. We've eaten some good cakes and desserts as well--Italian panettone, homemade gingerbread cookies, and orange mousse, among others.
Always a special time of year--Christmas with its food, desserts, trees, ornaments, decorations and flowers. We prepare for it, we enjoy its coming, and we accept its passing, because it moves us into a new year with fresh expectations and challenges. The Christmas season is about honoring our individual traditions (in our home, both American and Norwegian), our family heritage, home and family, our faith, as well as about visits with friends, and having the time to enjoy and to truly appreciate them all.
And then there are the Christmas flowers--amaryllises and poinsettias--so beautiful to look at as they grow and flower during December. This year our three amaryllises had three different colors, white, red, and white with red stripes.
My indoor orange tree produced over sixty small oranges this year; the tree 'casts' the oranges to the floor when they are ripe, quite funny to witness and to listen to when sitting in our living room, as you can hear them rolling along the floor before they hit a piece of furniture. These small fragrant oranges find their way into the smoothies we make each morning.
And as far as fragrances go, I have to mention the Christmas food--especially the smell of boneless pork ribs rolled in and roasted together with garlic, fennel seed, rosemary, sage and thyme that we ate for dinner on Christmas Day, served together with a potpourri of vegetables (eggplant, squash cherry tomatoes, and potatoes). The pork tasted as good as it smelled while roasting in the oven.
Also made duck with orange sauce for Christmas Eve, served together with asparagus, broccoli and orange pieces; it too was very good and very colorful.
Other dinners have included boiled cod one evening, and elk steak another evening, and we're not done yet--my husband will be making salted sheep ribs for New Year's Eve. We've eaten some good cakes and desserts as well--Italian panettone, homemade gingerbread cookies, and orange mousse, among others.
Always a special time of year--Christmas with its food, desserts, trees, ornaments, decorations and flowers. We prepare for it, we enjoy its coming, and we accept its passing, because it moves us into a new year with fresh expectations and challenges. The Christmas season is about honoring our individual traditions (in our home, both American and Norwegian), our family heritage, home and family, our faith, as well as about visits with friends, and having the time to enjoy and to truly appreciate them all.
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
A Christmas poem
I have been writing poetry for years, and just recently came upon this poem that I wrote when I was a teenager. I thought it might be a good poem for the Christmas season.
Silent Stars
Wander across sea and sky--
Stars nightborne in flight.
Carry on across all time--
Centuries ago began your light.
Go on and move into the night.
Your silence is heard then,
Your light has touched all men.
And once upon ago two thousand years,
You shone upon no ordinary man.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
The gift of time
I’ve been enjoying the preparation
time for the Christmas holiday, as I always do. There is something about
Advent, the spiritual preparation for Christmas, as well as the material
preparations in the form of purchases of gifts and food. I am always reminded
of how privileged we are at this time of year especially. We have what we need
and more. It is actually becoming quite difficult to know what to tell others
when they ask what I want for Christmas. And that is true of very many people I
know. We don’t really need much more than we have in the materialistic sense.
Of course it’s always nice to give and to receive gifts—that’s part of the
holiday spirit and what the season is about—but it’s not about how much gifts
cost. It’s the thought that counts; we think of others and they think of us. My
colleagues and I exchange small gifts each year (we’ve been doing this for
years now)—spice tea, Christmas candy, small Christmas decorations, candle-holders,
and the like. There have also been a lot of get-togethers with friends this
month; I’ve preferred these personal gatherings to the impersonal Christmas
work parties, which are usually too large and too loud. Always nice to get
together for dinner for a few hours with good friends, or for a coffee break--with
time to indulge in good conversation, something that is worth gold in these
days of quick efficient communication and rushed activities.
The gift of
time. If we manage to give that to each other, we’ve accomplished something of
worth. I think it is the best gift we can give each other. To know that someone
wants to take the time to meet us, to spend a few hours with us, to go deeper
than surface conversation—those are amazing gifts. I think more people need to know
that they are valued by others. Unfortunately, sometimes even in the best of
circumstances, there are some who do not feel worthy of the attention of
others. They are good people, special people, kind people, but they suffer from
lack of self-confidence that holds them back and makes them choose what is often
not good for them. I can think of two instances where this is the case, both
involving young people. My hope for them is that the warmth of the Christmas
season seeps into them and makes them truly understand how much they are loved.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Living on crumbs
It occurred
to me this past week that perhaps abusive workplaces damage employees in more
ways than we care to admit. After several recent conversations with colleagues
and friends, I can only conclude that this seems to be the case. The type of
abusive workplace I am talking about has little to do with physical abuse,
although I know that occurs in some workplaces. The most common type of abuse
is psychological and emotional, and I firmly believe that years of this type of
abuse will damage the recipients, much as a psychologically abusive personal relationship
does. And the damage may not be reversible. That is the frightening part. We
don’t like to talk about this, but just because we don’t talk about it doesn’t
mean the problem doesn’t exist. The recipients of the abuse may carry their
feelings of fear, shame, guilt and loss of self-esteem home with them, and take
it out on the people with whom they live. Or if they live alone, they may take
it out on themselves by living in unhealthy ways. Whatever the situation, the
abuse leaves deep scars, and the employees who have experienced this type of
abuse may not be able to leave their work situations, in the same way as an
abused spouse may be unable to leave
his or her situation. There may be no energy left to do so, or to fight back,
or to deal with the situation.
What type
of abuse am I talking about? Bullying, derision, grandstanding always at the
expense of others, total disregard for the feelings of others, lack of
emotional intelligence, verbal aggression, cursing, domination of meetings or
conversations by the same people who flatten anyone who tries to get a word in,
freezing out specific employees, being negative to what specific employees
suggest no matter what the situation, deriding ideas during brainstorming meetings,
making employees feel like crap, embarrassing or harassing them publicly (telling
employees, ‘if you don’t like it, leave’ or telling employees that they’re lazy
or mediocre in a public meeting). The list is endless. Have I seen such
behavior in workplaces? Yes I have. What does an abusive workplace do to its
employees? What are the scars it leaves on them? I would suggest that it
creates a pattern of hope and disappointment that becomes cyclical. In the hope
cycle, employees experience a feeling of being uplifted, perhaps because a boss
has acknowledged their work for once. I call the experience being ‘grateful for
crumbs’. In this case, the crumbs can be, for example, a very infrequent acknowledgment
of employees’ work (or existence) in an environment that otherwise criticizes
or ignores its employees. In the disappointment cycle, employees feel that
their situation is hopeless and that there is little possibility of change. And
then comes the hope cycle that brings with it that feeling that change is
possible. This is very similar to an abusive relationship—between spouses, or
between children and parents, between siblings, and so on.
You can
imagine how children would develop in a home environment where parents were
critical of and negative about most things they did, and only occasionally ‘threw
a dog a bone’. That’s living on crumbs. Or parents who ignore their children,
except to ‘show them off’ to others when it’s time to be politically correct.
Children are highly sensitive to parental behavior, and they will work overtime
to try to ‘read’ their parents. The appreciation of ‘crumbs’ becomes learned
behavior after a while, but the recipients of abusive behavior are so
focused on trying to ‘please’, that growth in other areas becomes stifled or stunted.
They never completely learn self confidence, they become afraid of authority, or
they became afraid to voice their opinions or ideas for fear of being derided,
yelled at, or embarrassed publicly. The scars persist well into adulthood. The
mistake we make as a society is to think that adults can tackle everything that
is thrown at them, just because they are adults. The assumption is
automatically that they have to tackle everything. What happens when or if they
cannot? I’ve seen one example of that recently—someone who hit the wall
big-time. There are bullies in the workplace, just as there were on the school
playground. When the bullies get control of the workplace, the employees who
get beaten up are often the ones who
may not have had a lot of self confidence to begin with. Or they may be the
ones who are living on crumbs in
personal situations as well. Or they may have self confidence, but were raised
to not question authority, to not stick their heads up. So if they are unfairly
treated, there is no real recourse for them. They are not the ones likely to go
over the boss’ head to complain to the higher-ups.
I have been
told sometimes that I bring up problems but that I don’t discuss the solutions
for them. That may be the case at times, but it may be the case simply because
I don’t know what the solutions are. What do you do if you are an older man, for example, whose workplace bullies him, whose wife is sick,
whose children depend on him, who knows that his chances of finding another job
are next to null at his age? What then? What do you tell that person? Go find
another job? Think positive and it will all work out? Blame him for his
situation? And even if he is partly to blame, because he has let himself be
satisfied with crumbs for many years, how does it help him if society blames
him for his entire situation? We like to think that this is not a common
situation; the fact is, in my father’s generation, this was a quite common
scenario, at least where I grew up. It’s so easy to judge others, and in the
end, ourselves. We are often as hard on ourselves as we are on others. The key
word is hard. Maybe things would
change if more people practiced being softer. Kindness is so underrated. We
need more of it in society, in workplaces and in homes. Perhaps the next time a
boss is abusive, we need to remind him or her of the value of being kind. That’s
at least one solution I can suggest; I have no idea if it will work.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Fear of the dark and of the creatures that live there
An
interesting discussion this past weekend with some friends who were visiting—we
ended up talking about the horror movies that have scared us the most. All of
us are adults, and all of us ended up being scared, as in many sleepless nights
after having viewed them. Scared as in lights on in all rooms of the house when
alone, creepy images that seem to be imprinted on our brains forever—that sort
of thing. The Grudge, The Ring, and I Am Legend were the films mentioned by
several people, and it occurred to me that what these films all have in common
are characters that are hideously deformed or grotesque in some way. In The Grudge and The Ring, female characters have been transformed into evil
creatures with long dark hair that covers their faces, but when those faces are
exposed, they are terrifying. They also have a tendency to glide along hallway
walls or to crawl down stairs, and they have a nasty habit of appearing where
you would least want them to turn up—in your bed or in an elevator. The shock
value alone of having seen them is enough to make you want to sleep with all
the lights on for many nights afterwards. The use of children in horror films
can also be quite shocking—children who become evil, possessed children, little
monsters--as in Children of the Damned;
this offends our sense of normalcy. It’s not supposed to be that way. What
scares us in I Am Legend are the humanoid
monsters with superhuman strength (vampires in the novella by Richard Matheson
on which the film was based) who roam the streets of the city by the thousands
at night looking for prey. They can scale the outer walls of buildings and cross
a city park in record speed, screeching and growling. But they cannot tolerate
the light of day, which gives the protagonist (in this film Will Smith) the
daylight hours to do the things he must do—find food and fuel for his car, and
try to find other survivors like himself. But he must be home by sunset in order
to lock down his house so that these creatures cannot find him or get inside
his house. But of course you know they will at some point, and that he will
make a mistake that will allow them to do so, and that is what is scary—when will
it happen? It’s only a question of time. We can empathize with the protagonist;
what would we do if we were in his shoes? How would we survive, and would we?
Or would we go mad?
When I was
a child, I thought that if I concentrated hard enough, I could create the
imaginary creatures that scared me. Just that thought alone, that I might have
the power to create those creatures, scared me. Where did those scary creatures
come from? Perhaps from the fairytales that were read to us as children—among them
Grimm’s fairytales about witches (Hansel
and Gretel; Snow White), wolves (Little
Red Riding Hood) and other odd and sometimes evil creatures. Perhaps they
also came from our religious education that taught us about God and the Devil. They
did not come from TV or films, as my parents did not purchase a TV until I was almost
thirteen years old; I did not start going to movies until I was in my early
teens. When I was a teenager, I was sure that by the time I reached adulthood, I
would no longer be scared when watching horror or supernatural films. That has
not proven to be the case. I need only think of The Shining, I Am Legend, The Grudge, The Exorcist, REC, Don’t Be
Afraid of the Dark (the original TV movie), Burnt Offerings, and a number of other films in this genre,
to remind myself of the effect they had on me upon first viewing. I think that
fears of the dark or of monsters in the closet or under the bed are primal fears;
we do not see well in the dark, whereas our predators (mostly carnivorous
animals in early times) did. They had the advantage. So we built shelters to
keep them out and used fire to allow us to see but also to keep predators away.
We are thankful for the protection of our modern homes—with doors and windows
we can lock against anything or anybody that might want to hurt us. We turn on
our alarm systems to be warned if an intruder breaks in. But what happens if
the intruder is not human? If we keep the lights on, will that keep the non-human intruders away? What scares us is the possibility that our ‘protections’
are merely illusions—can locked doors and windows keep out things that really want to get in? Our locks, alarm systems and indoor lighting cannot protect us against supernatural threats. Films like Paranormal Activity, The
Entity, and The Exorcist scare us
exactly for this reason. And what happens if people become possessed by evil
spirits, as happened in The Shining
or in so many other supernatural horror films? How do you fight that type of
evil? In the final analysis, perhaps horror films in general make us thankful for
the good old routine daily life that we live; we do not have to fight off
predators on a daily basis, nor do we have to hunt our own food. Most of us living in
industrialized societies do not have to risk our lives each day in order to
survive.
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Rainbow in the Akerselva river
I took this video last month on one of my weekend walking tours along the Akerselva river. A lovely autumn day, the rushing water of the river, the spray dancing above the water, catching the sunlight, and suddenly--a rainbow. A lot of people were taking photos of the river that day. Enjoy........
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
About the film Shoot the Moon
I sat and
watched the 1982 film Shoot the Moon
last night on TCM; it has to be at least the tenth time I’ve seen the film. It
is hands-down the best movie I’ve ever seen about marital problems, impending
divorce, and the effects of a broken relationship on children. I love this film
for its raw honesty and the incredible acting of Albert Finney (George), Diane
Keaton (Faith), and Dana Hill (who plays their eldest daughter Sherry). These
are characters that you can actually like and get to know--better put, these
are people that you can relate to. Each time I watch the movie, I realize that the
entire story resembles life—messy, chaotic, no pat answers, situations that are
not explainable or forgivable or black-and-white. There are no easy answers in
this movie, and no contrived happy endings. If you choose to interpret the
ending as a new beginning for the estranged couple, you are a romantic. I am
not so sure, even after the tenth viewing. And that could say more about me
than about the character of Faith, who remains ambiguous about her feelings for
George even after he dumps her for a younger woman (Sandy, played by Karen
Allen) with a small son, moves out, and goes to live with Sandy. I like Faith’s
ambiguity; she isn’t sure what she wants, even when she gets involved with
Frank (played by Peter Weller), who is the contractor she hires to build the
tennis court she has always wanted. She still loves George, even though she
knows that so much of their relationship is irretrievably broken. She is
jealous of Sandy and has no desire to hear about her. She has four daughters to
take care of and does a good job of taking care of them in a difficult
situation. She could have demanded more attention and focus on herself; she
could have wallowed in self pity. But she doesn’t. Her father’s illness and her
mother’s interference in her life are also issues that she deals with, in
addition to the demise of her marriage. This too is the way real life is. You
don’t get to choose all the time what you want to deal with—one problem at a time.
Sometimes there are multiple problems that get dumped on you all at once, and
the only choice you have is to sink or swim. George for his part still loves Faith,
but he is in love with Sandy because she pays attention to him, like Faith used
to before she got totally involved in raising their children. He is also a
jealous person, aggressive, and has an explosive temper; he doesn’t like Frank
and doesn’t like the idea of Frank hanging around his old home getting to know Faith
or his children.
The most
poignant scenes in the film are those between Sherry and George, and Sherry and
Faith. Sherry, who is a teenager on the verge of adulthood, is most affected by
her parents’ split, and desperately tries to understand what is going on. She
doesn’t get many clear answers from either parent. What they do manage to
impart to her is how much they love her, despite their own problems. Sherry
gets to see her parents as flawed people; again, this is how real life is. The
scene when she asks her mother why husbands and wives don’t wait for each other
as they pass through doors on their way to new rooms—in essence, why they don’t
share their new experiences with each other—is touching. Or when she asks her
father if he loves Timmy (Sandy’s son) more than his own daughters and George
says no. But Sherry knows (and verbalizes) her doubt about his priorities; she
knows that Timmy will ultimately usurp her and her sisters’ places in their
father’s heart. Sandy will see to that. This is also a reality many people in such
a situation do not want to deal with. It’s easier to lie, to say that nothing will
be different, when of course nothing could be further from the truth. Children
know the truth; they can intuit it. Children in the same family may deal with
their parents’ divorce differently. Sherry is the oldest daughter and the
hardest hit. It’s hard not to sympathize with her anger and confusion. Shoot the Moon is timeless despite its
being thirty years old; it has as much to say to us today about marriage and
divorce as it did when it was made.
Wednesday, November 7, 2012
The value of being unreasonable
Of all the quotes about change that I posted yesterday, Shaw’s “The
reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in
trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore, all progress depends on the
unreasonable man” stuck with me the most, although the others certainly
made a memorable impression. I love quotes that get me thinking. This one made
me think about how I face and have faced the world and my workplace during the
past few years. I don’t think I’ve been very reasonable. I have not always tackled
the changes around me, perhaps because there were too many of them to deal with
all at one time. I don’t adapt immediately to anything, but I can adapt over
time, provided I can see the value in making the change. I don’t always see the
value of doing so. Most changes have to do with the way research is done now;
the new focus is on getting researchers to accept a research world that is
defined by large research groups and extensive national and international group
collaborations. A far cry from the research world of twenty years ago, where
working in small groups, often alone, was the norm, at least in the
environments where I worked. At that time, decisions were often made alone with
perhaps some input and advice along the way; now, there are several meetings with
multiple individuals to discuss specific issues before a decision is made
concerning them. This new approach shifts responsibility for decisions from one
person to several persons, which is advantageous in some respects; I can see
the value in this approach. However, the loss of autonomy as an independent
creative researcher and the dilution of responsibility are two major concerns that
could have negative repercussions. It is easier to adapt to change, to fit in
and to stop challenging, rather than to stand out or stand alone, to protest,
or to challenge the voices of reason telling you to be reasonable. Or better yet, to be realistic. It remains to be seen whether the current trends and
approaches will lead to increased productivity and effectiveness (the current
definition of progress) or if unreasonableness is the better approach to ensure
progress, as Shaw apparently believed.
Monday, November 5, 2012
Some great quotes about change
· You miss 100 percent of the shots you never take.
-Wayne Gretzy
·
If we don't change, we don't grow. If we don't
grow, we aren't really living. -Gail Sheehy
·
Change before you have to. -Jack Welch
·
By changing nothing, nothing changes. -Tony
Robbins
·
If you do what you’ve always done, you’ll get
what you’ve always gotten. -Tony Robbins
·
Your life does not get better by chance, it gets
better by change. –Jim Rohn
·
When in doubt, choose change. -Lily Leung
·
In a chronically leaking boat, energy devoted to
changing vessels is more productive than energy devoted to patching leaks. -Warren
Buffett
·
Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the
courage to lose sight of the shore. -Andre Gide
·
Twenty years from now you will be more
disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw
off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your
sails. Explore. Dream. Discover. - Mark Twain
·
I can accept failure, everyone fails at
something. But I can’t accept not trying. –Michael Jordan
·
The best thing you can do is the right thing;
the next best thing you can do is the wrong thing; the worst thing you can do
is nothing. -Theodore Roosevelt
·
The greatest mistake you can make in life is to
be continually fearing you will make one. –Elbert Hubbard
·
As soon as anyone starts telling you to be
“realistic,” cross that person off your invitation list. –John Eliot
·
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I
cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know
the difference. -Reinhold Niebuhr
·
The reasonable man adapts himself to the world;
the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself.
Therefore, all progress depends on the unreasonable man. -George Bernard Shaw
·
Don’t say you don’t have enough time. You have
exactly the same number of hours per day that were given to Helen Keller,
Pasteur, Michelangelo, Mother Teresa, Leonardo da Vinci, Thomas Jefferson, and
Albert Einstein. –Life’s Little Instruction Book
·
Never too old, never too bad, never too late,
never too sick to start from scratch once again. -Bikram Choudhury.
·
Someone was hurt before you, wronged before you,
hungry before you, frightened before you, beaten before you, humiliated before
you, raped before you… yet, someone survived… You can do anything you choose to
do. –Maya Angelou
Reflections on change
If we are honest with ourselves, we know that dealing with changes
that are thrown at us is a difficult task, especially in a work situation, but
also in our personal lives. Scores of self-help books have been written on the
subject of how to deal with change, how to start anew, how to let go of the
past, how to let go of situations that we have outgrown, how to face the
future, how to start today, how to think positively about change, how to
rearrange our mindsets. The irony of life is that we change whether we want to
or not. We can try to resist change, block it, ignore it, run from it, or drown
it out. It doesn’t matter what we do; change will find us. We look in the
mirror and find the subtle changes that tell us that we are getting older. We
watch our parents grow old and pass away. We watch our children grow up, move
away, and start their own lives and families. We cannot prevent any of it. We
cannot make time stand still. No matter what we do or say, life goes on, people
move on, careers end, and perhaps throughout all of the inevitable changes, a
sense of humor is our saving grace. Or reading the words of others who have
thought about and reflected upon the same things. At every point in our lives,
we need inspiration, support, positive refills, and encouragement. It is an unfortunate
misconception that adults do not need these things. I am often told that
children and young adults need them more. And that may be true, but as adults,
we still need to be inspired and encouraged. If we have faith in some higher
power, something outside ourselves, if we belong to a church or to a spiritual
society, we at least can nurture a lifeline to that part of ourselves that
rears its head from time to time in an effort to tell us how things are going
inside of us, in our hearts and souls. If we don’t have that, there are many
books that offer inspiration and encouragement for many of the problems we
face.
I often remind myself when I feel stuck in a rut, that some
of the best things that ever happened in my own life, happened simply because I
changed my life, after much reflection, confusion, disorientation and sometimes
anger and depression. I left a painful relationship when I was in my twenties
and chose to be alone rather than live a lie. I could have stayed and been
miserable. I left a ‘safe’ job in my twenties (a unionized research technician job
with great benefits that my father told me to keep) and chose to work in a
non-unionized research position, one that allowed me to travel to international
conferences, for example, Cambridge England, where I met my husband. I could
have stayed in my safe job and refused to move on. But then I would never have
met my husband or subsequently completed my PhD. I wasn’t focused on looking
for a new relationship at the time I met my husband; I was in fact ready to
leave my job in Manhattan after working there seven years, and was interviewing
for positions around the USA when I met him in England. Meeting him resulted in
my leaving my birth country in my early thirties and moving abroad in order to
give that relationship a chance, learning a new language, and embracing a new culture,
workplace and degree program. I was not raised in a household that thrived on
change. My parents were good solid people, but their lives (and to some extent
ours when we were younger) were defined by my father’s illnesses and job
problems. Would they have loved to have traveled together to Italy and England
when he retired? Of course. But by the time they reached the point when they could
have done that, other realities took over their lives. My father died young, at
sixty-seven. Neither he nor my mother got the chance to do many of the things their
children have done. Their lives became more defined by fear as they grew older,
mostly due to my father’s illnesses—afraid to travel, afraid to upset the daily
routines, afraid to change the daily routines. That is perhaps the way of life,
that each new generation does more and dares more than the previous generation.
It’s hard to say. The point is that it is best to be proactive about change, to
see the future and to at least try to adjust to what is coming. We cannot know
the future, we can only live now, but I still think it best to be open to
change and to actually choose it, instead of having it forced upon you.
Sunday, November 4, 2012
How small we are before nature
I’m still
trying to wrap my head around all the news coming out of New York and New
Jersey concerning Sandy. Some of the news is good, some of it is not. The good
news is that so many people are helping each other, volunteering for the relief
help, and so on. The bad news is that there are still many areas without electricity, without heat, without water (no shower or toilet facilities), without phone connection; I
know people who cannot return to their homes because of these problems. As a
friend of mine on Facebook commented—“how small we are before nature, even in
one of the most modern cities in the world”. It’s true. We like to think that
we can tackle most of the tough things that life throws at us; most of the time
we do. But sometimes we cannot, and not through any fault of our own. It’s
worth thinking about. Most homes in New York and New Jersey get their gas and electricity from power
companies like Con Edison, Hess and the like. If you lost electrical power for
a week, your refrigerator would not work, nor would any other electrical device
you might have. This means that any food you had in the refrigerator would eventually
spoil; ditto for food in the freezers. Unless you had a backup generator, you
would be stuck in a situation that many people find themselves in now in New
York City boroughs and in New Jersey. Some of them cannot get out of their
homes to buy food because the areas they
live in remain flooded, or because they cannot use their cars due to lack of fuel. Even if they
could buy food, there would be no way to store it without a functioning
refrigerator. The question of course is whether there is food to be bought,
since deliveries of foodstuffs have been limited or non-existent in some areas. The same is true for car fuel; it is running low and gas stations are reporting long lines at the pumps. As far as food preparation, people can prepare food using gas stoves, providing that the natural
gas supply to the stoves is functioning. In Norway however, we would have a huge problem, since most stoves are
electric, not gas. We thus would not be able to store food or prepare it. We would also be without shower and toilet
facilities. We would not be able to charge our cell phones, even though the
cell phone networks might be working. We would not have regular telephone
service; we would not have internet or cable TV connections. This would impact
on the amount of information we would be privy to, in terms of critical updates
on the situation we were experiencing. We would be cut off, in other words,
like many residents of New York and New Jersey are, and probably like many
residents in Haiti and Cuba are, since they were the first to get hit by Sandy.
It is truly hard to believe that given all our modern technology, that we are
in fact at the mercy of nature. It is a fallacy to think that we have any real
control over what nature can throw at us—hurricanes, storm surges, earthquakes,
tsunamis, or tornadoes. We can prepare as best we can, and hope for the best.
Friday, November 2, 2012
Reflections on this past week
Super storm
Sandy and its brutal attack on the east coast of the USA was the major news
story this past week, after it swept through Haiti and Cuba causing much destruction there first. It was also the event that dominated most of my waking
hours this past week, since I was unable to get in touch with a few people
until Wednesday evening. I have now heard from family members and friends who
were directly affected by the storm, so I know that they’re all safe. Some are still
without power, a few just had power restored today, some others are waiting in
long lines at gas stations in order to fill up their cars, and one of my
friends has not been able to return to her home in Long Beach, New York because
of the extensive damage there. I felt very restless this week; I wanted to
help, but could not physically do so from here. And it would not have been
possible for me to have traveled there either since most flights into and out
of the New York area were cancelled. So what I have managed to do is follow the
events and updates related to the storm in great detail, and have been able to
share them via email and social media with those who were cut off from all
forms for news/internet coverage since Monday evening. The feeling of
restlessness has lessened, but is one I remember well from 2001 during the 9/11
days; it bothers me to be so far away from my country when bad things happen
there. I don’t know that I could even be of much help; perhaps it’s my
imagination working overtime. Nevertheless, the restless feeling remains. So I
will donate to the Red Cross and hope that eases my worries and restlessness somewhat.
Perhaps it comes down to wanting to serve and to be needed? Sometimes I wonder
if that is an indication that my job is not providing me with those
opportunities.
On another
note, a newsworthy event occurred in Oslo as well this past week. Perhaps not
earth-shattering for those who work outside the health sector, but for those
who work in it—Bente Mikkelsen resigned her position yesterday as the director
of Health Southeast Corporation. This corporation owns the hospital I work for;
the past few years have been less than pleasant under her rule, to put it
mildly. Rather than dwell on her departure, which is rather farcical in and of
itself, I’d rather focus on the potential for a brighter future for the
hospital. Hopefully the job she leaves behind will be filled by a person with more
emotional intelligence and the ability to think independently, by a person who
can give and take, by a person who can admit mistakes and take responsibility for
them, by a person who can listen to employees and report their concerns up over
in the system. There is always hope.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
The unbelievable storm
I was up
until 4 am Oslo time last night watching super storm Sandy make landfall on the
eastern coast of the USA. It chose the area around Atlantic City as its
entrance, and the video footage of the Atlantic Ocean pouring into this casino
city was just unbelievable to watch. The Atlantic Ocean has never been the
enemy before. Not until last night. Watching it flood these coastal towns was kind
of like watching a mini tsunami—scary, unbelievable and fascinating at the same
time. I can understand why people want to get close to the fury of a storm to
film what it does to everything in its path, but you would have been completely
foolhardy to have done so yesterday. I’ve been in Atlantic City, walked along its
boardwalk, and enjoyed its shopping and luxurious hotels. Last night it did not
look luxurious at all. It made me sad to see the destruction, as it did to see the
flooding and destruction in Manhattan and Queens. This is not supposed to
happen in these areas. But it did. The monster storm from hell made sure that
we will not take anything for granted ever again, not where nature is
concerned.
I grew up
in Tarrytown, a lovely little town on the Hudson River, about a thirty-minute
train ride north of Manhattan. In all the years I lived there, I cannot
remember this type of storm occurring. Yes, there were intense storms, with resultant
minor flooding here and there. I can remember the Saw Mill River and Bronx
River Parkways being flooded and becoming impassable. Once I tried to drive
through one of those parkway floods with my car, but had to back out of it as I
could not steer my way through it. Luckily I managed to back out of it; not
everyone was so fortunate. I was together with a friend of mine; we were
commuting home from college that day. Water seeped into my car through the
doors, and we had to bail out pails of water from the car afterward. It was a
stupid decision on my part to attempt to drive through the rising water, and I
learned an important lesson that day for the future about not taking unnecessary
risks. But in Tarrytown (and other Hudson River towns) yesterday, there was unprecedented
flooding. The Hudson River rose higher and higher due to the storm surge
further south. Boats floated inland, having broken free of their moorings. In
the town of Ossining, a few miles north of Tarrytown, a boat floated onto the
railroad tracks, blocking passage in both directions. The pictures tell the
story—proof that the unbelievable happened. I am including two links to online storm
photos here. I am sad to see the destruction and flooding, and only hope that
most people have come through the storm safely. http://www.businessinsider.com/at-least-16-dead-75-million-without-power--heres-what-hurricane-sandys-destruction-looks-like-photos-2012-10?0=bi
and
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