Why I love the story of Jane Eyre

One of the best things I did last weekend was to watch the most recent film adaptation of Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre from 2011 (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1229822/) with Mia Wasikowska as Jane Eyre and Michael Fassbender as Mr. Rochester. I was completely emotional by the end of the film; I know how the story ends so there were no plot surprises, but the quality and intensity of the acting by Mia Wasikowska and Michael Fassbender were just that overwhelming. Michael Fassbender was a wonderful surprise as Mr. Rochester; I have seen him in Prometheus and Fish Tank previously, and he is Mr. Rochester, David and Conor respectively, all completely different people, a testament to his acting abilities. He managed to impart a real humanity to Mr. Rochester, a humanity that I have not felt as strongly in other Mr. Rochesters. You feel sorry for him and for his predicament, even though you understand that he will suffer for his willfully deceiving Jane about his being married to a mad woman whom he is unable to divorce. By the time he tells her the truth, on her wedding day; you are hoping that Jane will forgive him because you know he is truly sorry for lying to her. But being the moral, proud and wise young woman that she is, she tells him that she will not live with him without being married and she leaves him and Thornfield Hall behind. As fate would have it, a tragedy occurs that ensures that she will finally be able to marry Mr. Rochester, but it was not the tragedy that made her return to Thornfield. It was her recognition of her own humanity and need for love; she gained the insight (inner sight) she needed to understand that she had found real love with Mr. Rochester and that she could not live in a passionless marriage with St John Rivers. She had to marry a man she loved. Her return to Mr. Rochester was actually an acknowledgment that she would live with him regardless of his marital situation as he had initially proposed once she found out he was already married. As it turns out; during her separation from Mr. Rochester, his wife burned down Thornfield Hall and committed suicide thereafter, but Jane is unaware of this when she returns to Thornfield. Mr. Rochester has lost his eyesight due to the fire and must depend upon those around him for help. When Jane returns to him, you understand that he has gained the ability to be grateful, and is no longer the proud and desperate man he once was. No matter how many times I’ve read the book or seen the different Jane Eyre films and TV series through the years, I am always moved by this story—it’s impossible not to love it. 

Fundraising time at Adventure Center

Dear Blog Readers,

I have written about Adventure Center before in my blog (http://paulamdeangelis.blogspot.no/2010/08/journeys-of-wonder-at-adventure-center.html). 

Adventure Center is deeply engaged in fundraising now. Today I am posting a letter written by Elizabeth Mayer, LCSW, President and Executive Director, talking about the mission of Adventure Center and the success of its after-school Arts, Education & Adventures in Nature Programs, and how much the children enjoy and are helped by them.  I hope you will support them in their efforts. No donation is too small. 

Elizabeth writes: 

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Common to many of the students who walk through our doors at Adventure Center, Robert has been struggling with issues of injury and pain.  Robert began classes here in 2008.  His lack of belief in himself was palpable. He had given up on school.  His school had almost given up on him, describing him as bright but inattentive, lazy, and defiant. 

Four years have passed and Robert has been immersed in Adventure Center’s after-school Arts, Education & Adventures in Nature Programs.  Now Robert speaks with enthusiasm and wonder.  Robert is now able to express his bright, curious mind, and engaging personality, and with that he is even serving in leadership roles at Adventure Center. Over the last year, Robert has said, “I used to feel mad at everyone. I couldn’t express myself and no one understood me.  Hey; that’s not true anymore!”

Robert is one child of many that have been helped by Adventure Center. The center is affiliated with organizations like Lincoln Center Institute, Community Works, Symphony Space, the Bronx Historical Society, and others (as well as the educators and therapists who provide a learning and supportive environment).  Adventure Center is appreciated as an oasis of innovation and creativity by all who pass through. We invite you to join our mission as we celebrate four successful years as a nonprofit Educational Center in Riverdale, New York.  As we approach this milestone we are stretching our scope and reach to answer the growing demand of children, families, and other organizations

This elevated level of activity brings Adventure Center to a new juncture in its’ journey; it will need to create the means to hire part-time and salaried staff to manage the daily life of the organization, to support the artists, educators, and group leader as we maintain a good ratio of adult/child in each program/class.  As we engage in the first steps of this transition—fully volunteer to partially volunteer/partially salaried organization— we will ensure that we continue a mission of high quality programming in a nurturing setting for all of our children.  The support of friends like you will afford Adventure Center the ability to remain self sustaining and to continue to thrive. 

Please help us reach our goal of raising $50,000. Any amount will help us meet our ambitious goal and continue to help us meet our mission. Your tax deductible gift of $50, $100, $500 or more—will immediately be put to use as we add part time staff—persons who will directly enhance  the learning and growth of our children.

There are several levels to this giving opportunity—we appreciate consideration of your support.  These costs add up, yet these are some examples of the large impact your gift can make on children like Larry and others at Adventure Center.

Ø  $100 can provide the means to add an additional group leader for 1 session of the group’s 10-weeks

Ø  $100 will purchase materials for 1 child for 1 ten-week session

Ø  $250 for 3-ten week sessions

Ø  $500 will purchase materials for 1 child for six-months           

Ø  $750 for seven months      

Ø   $900 will purchase materials for 1 child for a year.

You may donate by check or online by clicking the donate now button on the home page of our  website: http://www.adventurecenterjourneysofwonder.org/index.html

Adventure Center serves students with limited financial means.  Students are motivated and committed to achieving success in school, and in life.  Your gift will have a significant impact on their ability to learn and succeed. 

Thank you for partnering with our students!

Sincerely,

Elizabeth Mayer, LCSW

President and Executive Director, Adventure Center

3736 Henry Hudson Parkway, Suite 207, Bronx, NY 10463

Follow Adventure Center on www.facebook.com/adventurecenterbrx

Thinking about the future, reflecting on the past

Thinking about the future, reflecting on the past, and trying to live in the moment--the unending challenge. I try to make sense of past events, to learn from them, and to use whatever little wisdom I gain to plan for the future. I suppose everyone does this. It’s probably part of getting older, because of course the older we get, the more ‘past’ there is behind us for us to reflect upon. I register that I have changed a lot, just within the past several years. Unsettling workplace events and family experiences impact on how one wants to live in the present and plan for the future. I have finally learned to let go of how I wanted things to be and to accept how they actually are. My work life was one of those things I thought I had a firm grasp on, but it changed shape as I held it and became difficult to hold in one place—like a squirming child. The work world has changed dramatically and for a while the difficulty was just to hang on to the speeding car as it careened forward. Now the car has either slowed or I have mastered running faster to keep up. I definitely know that I absorb information and adjust to change much faster now than I ever did before. And since that seems to be the goal of modern workplaces—to get employees to adjust to constant change--I guess the change is a positive one. But it is not my full-time job that has produced that change, despite the constant pressure to change; it is my consultant work for the UiO science library and for Liivmedia that have had the greatest effect upon me. If I have ‘broadened my horizons’ and changed my approach, it is because I reached out in a whole new direction when I decided to work for both of them, and found a whole new arena in which to enjoy science. Following the different scientific social media and internet sites, reading, digesting, absorbing and commenting on articles I read in all areas of science has been immensely freeing and exhilarating. I don’t want to just read about what goes on in the field of cancer research anymore; I find reading about astrophysics, the universe, global warming, nutrition, and bee colony collapse disorder just as interesting. I have concluded after much reflection on past decisions that I have no regrets that I pursued a career in science. But I have understood that I don’t have to be just a research scientist to enjoy science or even to work in science. There are many different careers that one can have that utilize a science background—science communication, science journalism, journal editor, patent law, social media, consultant. Even though I will likely end my work life as a research scientist, it heartens me to know that I have contributed successfully as a consultant as well. That’s what I would tell young people these days; don’t limit your options. Keep all doors open. It makes for a more dynamic career and an adventurous future.

Language and identity

After living in Oslo and speaking Norwegian daily for over twenty years, I have finally begun to speak English again. I try to do so as often as possible. Not that I haven’t spoken English at times or when I struggled to find the Norwegian words; I just didn’t use my mother tongue very much during these years. Now I do. Why is this important to me now after so many years? One of the reasons was that I felt I was losing my identity as an American, because English is my mother tongue and when I speak Norwegian, I no longer feel American. I don’t feel Norwegian either when I speak Norwegian; perhaps I just felt neutral, and for many years, that was quite alright. Feeling American, identifying myself as American—I was not conscious of these feelings when I first moved here. In fact, it was fine to think and speak in Norwegian, even desirable, because unless you learn the language of the country you live in, you can never fully participate in its social or work life. I am fluent in Norwegian; I even write poetry in Norwegian. In fact, I like to do that, because I feel like I am another persona when I write in Norwegian, and as a writer, that’s both exhilarating and adventurous. I’ve even written a poem about that aspect—about ‘hiding’ behind the safety of a language that is not your own. But the older I get and the longer I live here, the more I want to use my mother tongue; perhaps so I don’t forget it, but also because I feel that I can state my thoughts and opinions more clearly in English than I can in Norwegian. I felt the opposite to be true a decade ago. What changed? I am not sure. Perhaps the experience of sometimes being ignored or not taken seriously in work and social circles, despite my fluency in Norwegian, changed my mind about how to approach specific experiences. Perhaps I thought, if I cannot make myself clear or ‘known’ in Norwegian, there is no point in using this language as my main language to communicate in this country. I can just as well use English, and at present, I feel it is necessary to do so, to communicate who I am at this point in time. The use of English guarantees that people will listen to you and try to understand you.

I register that people have different reactions to my talking English. My husband speaks English back to me unless he needs to really express himself, and then he goes over to Norwegian. But we have mostly communicated through the years using a blend of Norwegian and English that I call Norglish. I find that most of my Norwegian colleagues, with one exception, will speak to or answer me in Norwegian. Among my friends, it varies. Norwegian friends will speak Norwegian with me; non-Norwegian friends will speak English with me, even though we normally communicate in Norwegian. I find that using English is freeing for me; there are parts of me that have been released. It is as though I am allowed to be myself again. I don’t mean that I have not been myself these past twenty years; just that English puts me in touch with the core part of myself, and as I get older, that core part of myself wants to make itself better known. It’s not just about being or feeling American; it’s mostly about reclaiming me and my identity as a woman in 2012, living abroad, an expat, working in science, with one foot in Europe and one in America. I’m guessing that it is the core part of me that is trying to come to terms with all of these experiences—how to piece them all together--and I’m guessing that it is the core part of me that will be having much more to say as the years move on. I’m happy about that.

Considering the pursuit of an academic career

A new school year is upon us. For some students, it means starting the last year of high school or college, with all of the decisions the last year entails—what will I do after high school, will I go on to college, or if finished with college, what will I do after that, will I go on to graduate school, medical school, law school, or will I try to find a job instead? None of these decisions is trivial; in fact, what you choose to do with your life in your late teens/twenties often determines the type of field you remain in for the rest of your work life. It’s not impossible to move out of that field in an attempt to change career path, and it’s entirely possible to shift to a new type of job within one field. I just want to point out that it’s worth considering what is available to you in terms of careers if you choose to, for example, pursue a doctorate in the natural or life sciences.

I have mentored a number of PhD students through the years, as both primary and secondary advisor; I can tell you that for each year that passes, it becomes harder for me to encourage college graduates to pursue doctoral studies. There are many reasons for this; none of them have to do with money. Stipends for PhD students are in fact quite good now, at least in Scandinavia, ditto for postdocs and scientists, in contrast to the meager salaries for all of these positions some fifteen to twenty years ago. The problems have more to do with why you might want to pursue a PhD, and where you see yourself with that PhD in ten years. It is a topic for serious consideration before you start a PhD program, not during or after you finish. You would think this would be the normal common-sense approach; I can tell you that the opposite is often true. Students start PhD studies without a real understanding of what they’re choosing or what it will lead to. They may have a friend who has started on his or her doctorate; they may see it as a way to ‘postpone’ having to think about what it is they want to do with their lives. The fact remains--it is much harder now to get a postdoctoral position after you finish your PhD than it was fifteen years ago; if you are lucky to get a postdoctoral position, it becomes that much harder to obtain grant funding to become a research scientist, and so on. With each step, the eye of the needle narrows. Academia is elitist; the higher up the ladder you come, the more elitist it gets. There is no guarantee that you will be able to have a research career in academia, if you define that as being an independent principal investigator with a small research group. You will find that the doors close once you finish the doctorate, doors that once were open to you. Where you were once encouraged, you are now discouraged. It can happen very directly, when you are told that you are not good enough to pursue a postdoc, or more commonly, you are simply denied the opportunity to go forward because you will not get funding to go forward. There is a long list of potential postdoc candidates each year that wait to hear if they have gotten funding or not. And then let’s say for argument’s sake that you get postdoctoral funding for some years; after you finish that work, you start the real work—of trying to become an independent principal investigator and scientist, one who has his or her own grant funding for specific projects, technical support, lab space, and other such necessities. You need these things, otherwise you get nowhere. So back to my own consideration at the beginning of this paragraph--how can I encourage college graduates to go down the PhD path when I know that doing so will most likely not lead to career opportunities for them within academia or even outside of academia? Many scientific and biotech companies consider job applicants with PhDs to be overqualified. They would prefer that their salespeople are well-educated, but not necessarily at the doctoral level.

So perhaps it makes sense to just focus on and encourage the very few top students at all academic levels. It would mean fewer PhD students overall, but perhaps that is best for all concerned. In this way, academia can remain elitist—for the very few who have made it through the eye of the needle. However, the focus nowadays in the academic circles I wander through is that ‘the more PhD students, the better’. This of course is from the standpoints of the mentors and group leaders, who eye potential students as means to their ends—more publications and thus more money, more hands for the inevitable and time-consuming lab work, and so on. Research groups with many PhD students are looked favorably upon. Those who manage to accumulate a number of such students are considered successful in academia, because a large group generates grant funding, whereas a small group does not. The trend nowadays is to merge small groups into larger ones; doing so increases the chances of getting funding and getting more students. This is all well and good for the large research group; I’m just not sure it’s in the best interests of the PhD students who are looking at a different sort of future when it comes to the job market. It may just be me, but it seems rather pointless to invest a large amount of time and energy in mentoring students who will not be staying in academia. Most of the PhD students I have had the privilege of knowing finished their degrees and left academia for jobs in industry; they are salespeople, application specialists, clinical research associates, and the like. These jobs are all very good jobs, but they do not necessarily require a PhD. Many of these men and women are glad they took their PhDs in terms of having fulfilled a personal goal; some are not. The latter are those who originally wanted (or thought they did) an academic career, and were tossed around in the system by mentors who did not really care about their professional advancement. Or they experienced the nightmare of being one of many doctoral students in a research group, all of whom required their own research projects, all of whom struggled with their group leader over how their projects were defined and who had the primary responsibility for these projects. These few students were exceptionally bright and talented, and in my estimation, were forced out by group leaders who made it impossible for them to stay, because their intelligence and directness challenged the group leader. Or because the group leader knew that there was nothing to offer them in the way of an actual career. So wouldn’t it have made more sense to have discouraged them at a much earlier time point?

Should you pursue a doctorate and an academic research career? No one can answer that question for you. Think long and hard about what you want out of life. If you choose the academic route, know that you have chosen a career where you will always have homework or the feeling of not having finished your homework, where you will work long hours in the lab or in the office analyzing data and writing articles. Unless you are extremely bright, talented and creative, you will not rise in the system. And even if you are all of these, there is no guarantee that you will rise in the system—due to other factors such as political jockeying, pissing contests, and the like. You’ve got to know and understand, really understand, what it is you are choosing. If you don’t, you can end up like many middle-aged and close-to-retirement academic researchers in the current system who find themselves with little funding and no students. The system changed and they were displaced. The small groups they ran are not interesting anymore. They hang on ‘in quiet desperation’. They are small-fish small-pond scientists who suddenly found themselves in larger ponds, at the mercy of the larger and more predatory fish. That is the current reality of many research academics. There are less stressful ways to make a living.  

Talking about loss and sorrow

This past summer has been a reminder that life is fragile and that sorrow and loss are ever-present parts of life. I have written several posts about loss during the past several years; it strikes me how we can never really quite come to terms with loss and the grief that accompanies it. It can be the loss of a friend or family member due to illness; I know of several people who have ‘lost’ their spouses to Alzheimer’s disease and to the slow descent into oblivion that accompanies it. The healthy spouses live with a sorrow that they silently carry around with them. Sometimes they are able to talk about their loss; mostly they do not. Others deal with illnesses that may rob them/have robbed them of their mobility and physical freedoms. Others deal with separations and divorce, or the loss of treasured friendships. Most times it is death that takes our loved ones from us. We need only listen to the TV news to know that this happens every day due to crime, war, or tragic accidents (as just happened to my husband’s good friend who drowned last week after falling off his boat); or just the inevitable progression toward old age where again, people we love move into old age, forge the paths they are able to forge through that barren wilderness, before they move on into the world where death takes them physically from us. Learning to let go of those we love is probably the most difficult thing we will ever be asked to do in this life. Wondering if we will ever know happiness again, that question haunts us.

There are other losses that are not spoken about very openly, despite the means for communication that are continually available to us. We as a society seem to be at a loss for words when it comes to truly describing how we feel about losing our jobs, our identities, our pride or self-esteem, about how it feels to be displaced or frozen out of the ‘good company’ at work or in school, or simply ignored by our workplaces and schools. We talk about bullying in society and that it should stop, but it doesn’t. People who are bullied and harassed experience a loss of self-esteem and happiness that is difficult for them to deal with and that may affect them for the rest of their lives, and they may grieve silently for those losses. We are told to deal with constant change in our workplaces, and while most of us adapt to the new changes and patterns, it is neither as fast as management wishes nor as successful as they might hope. ‘Something’s lost but something’s gained, in living every day’, as Joni Mitchell sings. That’s true, but sometimes the gains don’t outweigh the losses. I would argue that it depends upon what is lost and what is gained. Nonetheless, we cannot stand still and we must live in the now. So we are forced to deal with loss and change.

Our sorrows are often right under our surfaces, but we are silent about bringing them to light. I was at a summer party recently, and I met a young woman who told me about her father’s quiet sorrow; he was born in another country and came here to live many years ago, probably as a political refugee. He married and had a family, but he never stopped missing his birth country. For her young age, she was deeply reflective, and her love and understanding for her father were clear. Her description of his sadness was something I could understand viscerally. For I too miss my birth country; it is a tangible feeling of sorrow that I carry around with me, and that I have done a good job of keeping under my surface until now. But I cannot do that any longer. At the same party, I met a fellow expat, who told me that he hated America and that he would never go back there to live. I could never say the same. I love my country the way I love a person—we are intertwined. I couldn’t tell you why it is this way; it just is after many years of living away from my birth country. So I could not understand my fellow expat, although I registered his words and opinions. It made me think of my grandparents who left Italy for America in the early 1900s and who never once returned there, as they could not afford to do so. What must it have been like to know that you would never see your father, mother, or siblings again, unless they followed you to America? Loss and sorrow on both sides. How their sorrows must have defined their lives, especially when their lives took a downturn during the Great Depression when my grandfather lost his pharmacy. I know that their sorrows colored their later lives because my father told me a lot about his family life and how his father suffered. Not all immigrants miss their birth countries; I know several people who have moved from Europe to the USA, who have become successful and who would never move back to their birth countries. But I also know immigrants to the USA who miss their birth countries regardless of their successes. It is an individual thing—how we deal with loss and the sorrows that accompany it. But it is good to talk about it sometimes, because you find out that you are not as alone in this life as you may think.  

Soaring above the earth

As a child, one of my recurrent dreams was that I could fly. If I was in any danger (I don’t really remember what I perceived danger to be at seven years of age), I could lift myself off the ground and soar a bit above the people whose hands reached out to grab at my feet, which were always dangling just a few inches above their outstretched hands. I remember how wonderful it felt to fly with so little effort on my part. There was no fear there. I like to think that this dream is a metaphor for my life, or at least for the way I wanted to live it growing up, and have lived it to some extent thus far. I don’t want to be pulled back down to earth, not when I want to soar into the clouds and fly free. Indeed, my dream symbolism book tells me that flying may mean several things: ‘wishful thinking; astral projection; suggestion to rise above a problem’. I often think that is why I have such an affinity for birds; there are people I know who can just summarily ignore them or not even see them. They are not conscious of these wonderful creatures flying about and above us. How can you ignore them, I wonder? I cannot. I watch how they behave, I watch how they land and take off. I watch how they watch what is going on around them as they are going about their business, and I listen to them ‘talk’ to each other. It is no surprise to me, after watching birds soar majestically toward a shining sun, that man wanted to fly, and set about learning how. When you look at how far man has come in that endeavor, I can only say--hats off to scientists, engineers, architects, and dreamers everywhere who helped make that dream come true. I said it yesterday and I’ll say it again here—those who dreamed big and made plane flight a reality for the common man—they are the ones who deserve the Nobel prizes for science and engineering. I watched a documentary program about the Concorde supersonic planes recently, and despite the tragic end to the Concorde airline, they were beautiful planes—far ahead of their time. It was moving to see how the Concorde pilots became emotional when talking about their planes. I could almost understand how they felt, even though I have never piloted a plane. But after listening to them, and after watching the incredible air show here in Oslo yesterday (to commemorate 100 years of military flight in Norway), I could almost say that I wished I had learned to pilot a plane. Even though I know that I would probably be satisfied if I could sit in the cockpit of a large plane one day and watch pilots at work. I would love to see what they see and to really understand how planes take off and land.

I’ve never seen an air show before in my life; after yesterday’s spectacular exhibition over the Oslo harbor area, I wouldn’t mind seeing more of them. Watching F16s and Alpha-jets roar through the sky, diving, turning, flying upside down, accelerating, dropping, flying completely perpendicular to the earth, flying in synchrony—it’s an incredible feeling to observe them, like watching birds flying in formation. The Patrouille de France aerobatics demonstration team performed at yesterday's airshow, and here is a link to a video (not mine) on YouTube that will give you an idea of how beautifully they flew. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FES33CtGgiQ&feature=colike

The air show also featured demonstrations of two Norwegian helicopters--the Sea King that is used in search and rescue operations, and the Bell helicopter, both impressive to watch. The amusing thing was that the seagulls, geese and ducks were flying very low to the water yesterday, probably because they were wondering what sort of huge birds had taken over the skies above them where they normally like to be. I like to think too that maybe they were trying to impress us with their grace and flying abilities, since they had such big metal birds to compete with. I noticed them. And nothing will ever beat a bird for grace and beauty in flying. But the air show planes come close.

Doing my part to save some trees

I don’t remember the exact date I stopped printing out paper copies of most of the scientific articles, manuscripts, grant applications and other documents that are sent to me for review and editing. I do know that I have been doing my part to save trees on this planet for many years now by not printing out paper copies of every document or article that is sent to me or that I come across during my online travels. I am always surprised when a student tells me, as happened yesterday, that she has misplaced the only copy of a manuscript draft that was edited as a paper copy and given back to her by her supervisor. When I asked if she couldn’t just check her email to access the edited document again, my assumption being that her supervisor does as I do—edits and comments an article draft via ‘track changes’ in Word and then saves it as a computer file--the answer was that her supervisor doesn’t edit/review documents on the computer. She edits and comments in the margins of a paper version of the article and gives it back to the student this way. So if that paper version gets misplaced, I understand how it could be a problem for the student. One could hope that her supervisor made a paper copy of her edits before she gave the edited article back to her student.

I know there are mixed opinions among academics about reading and editing manuscripts on your computer prior to their submission for publication. Personally, I like doing both on my computer. I have no problems following an article’s logic and buildup on my computer screen, and I love having ‘track changes’ available to me so that I can edit manuscript drafts onscreen if that is the task at hand. In the old days, an edited manuscript that you had gotten back as several copies from your co-authors could be a daunting proposition to tackle; some of them were a mess in terms of the pencil scribbles in the margins, the curlicue arrows directing you to move this paragraph to another page or to a paragraph below on the same page, comments at the top of the page telling you what to consider to include in the next draft, and so on. It is no easier to go painstakingly through such an edited manuscript than it is to correct a manuscript edited through ‘track changes’. In fact, I think the latter is much easier; you can choose to accept or delete inserted or deleted text, you can accept or reject format changes, and you can move text around as you like and still see where you removed text from in the final version.   

I also no longer print out the pdf versions of published articles; I read them online as well. It is a rare occurrence these days for me to print out an article; if I do, it is usually an extensive review article. I simply don’t see the point anymore of wasting all this paper. Additionally, the articles of interest are freely available for the most part, so that there is no danger of getting access to an article and then suddenly losing that access. One can get around this problem anyway by saving a version of the pdf file on your own computer to peruse at a later date. I am one of those people who welcome a paperless workplace and household. Offices stay neater as do homes, a win-win situation all around. 

Buying it on Amazon (or how I avoid paying high Norwegian prices)

I thought I’d put in my two cents concerning the discussion about how expensive it is to be a tourist in Norway. There have been a number of recent articles about exactly this topic—how expensive it is to travel in Scandinavia, and especially in Norway—and some of them are pretty funny, at least to me, since I recognize my own reactions (and a bit of shock) to much of what is written in them. Try this recent article, for example http://frugaltraveler.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/08/24/scandinavia-on-125-a-day/?hpw). Tourists are not the only ones who are shocked at the high cost of living here; I’ve lived here for twenty-two years and I’m still often taken aback at how much things cost. It’s not so much housing prices (which are comparable to Manhattan and other large cities around the world), but it’s other things, like cars, eating out, gasoline, groceries and other necessities. However, a number of low-price supermarkets have sprung up in Oslo in recent years; here you can find some bargains and that’s always a good thing. Prices in Norway for different items can be shocking; you need to take a deep breath at times and stop converting the prices to American dollars if you’re an American expat. Because if you continue to convert, you will realize how much money you are really paying just to live, and it’s not to live extravagantly. For example, if you convert, you will find that you are paying twenty dollars for one, I repeat, one dental floss dispenser at local pharmacies. It doesn’t matter where you are—in the rich or less rich city areas—prices are the same. And the dental floss is not manufactured in Norway, it is imported. It is good old Johnson & Johnson dental floss that you can find on Amazon for a fraction of the Norwegian price. In fact, a package of six dental floss dispensers (100 yards each, more or less the same size as what is available for sale here), costs about twenty dollars on Amazon (http://www.amazon.com/Reach-Dentotape-Designed-spaced-Unflavored/dp/B003XDVERE/ref=pd_sim_hpc_1). In other words, you’re being suckered if you pay that price for one floss dispenser in this country. So guess who recently ordered dental floss from Amazon. Even if I pay international shipping costs, which are not much, the total price for six dispensers is still much cheaper than what I would pay for one here in Oslo. And so it goes. Take aspirin. Genuine Bayer aspirin (325mg 200 coated tablets) on Amazon costs 9.47 dollars (http://www.amazon.com/Genuine-Bayer-Aspirin-Tablets-Coated/dp/B001LFG0OI/ref=pd_sim_hpc_1); at an online Norwegian pharmacy, I can get a package of 20 aspirin tablets (440 mg) for 7 dollars. It borders on the ridiculous. Of course, healthcare costs are ‘lower’ in this country than in the USA; but wage earners in Norway pay for universal healthcare through their taxes (at present, the sales tax is 25%), as well as taxes on gasoline, liquor, and cigarettes. I don’t have a problem with paying taxes to fund universal healthcare (something Americans should think more about so that healthcare became more accessible to all), but just so the point is made—healthcare is not free in this country by any stretch of the imagination. Nothing in this world comes for free. But it would be nice not to have to pay through the nose for some basic items like dental floss and aspirin. So whenever I am in the USA, I stock up on such things; it’s worth it. Norwegians pay their taxes willingly, but never believe for one second that they don’t want a bargain if they can get one. Those Norwegians who live on the east side of the country save money by shopping for groceries and liquor in Sweden, where prices are much cheaper. And when they travel, they stock up on duty-free items (e.g. liquor and tobacco products) on their return. And duty-free prices are still expensive, just considerably less expensive than the usual prices. 

Why are prices so high? Someone is getting rich, and it’s not the average consumer. But if you take a look at the incomes of the owners of the major supermarket chains in this country, that will shed some light on the matter. They are quite wealthy; in fact, they are some of the wealthiest people in this country. They control the food prices; the farmers who are always being blamed for the high price of food do not. Farmers are subsidized in many countries; it’s a tricky and difficult profession and I don’t begrudge them the subsidies if this is what helps them to live and as long as the subsidies are reasonable. I have a problem with the middlemen—that group of people who bring the consumer goods to us. Again, I don’t mind paying a 15% or 20% markup so that they can make some profit from importing goods for us to buy. I mind when the markup is 300% or 600%. There is no reason other than pure profit that dental floss and aspirin cost the exorbitant prices they do at present. It reminds me of how middlemen have milked my own profession for years and made huge profits. The suppliers of medical research items like antibodies, buffers and other reagents have charged sales tax on items that should have been tax-free because they were being used for research. They also marked up prices for many of these items by 100% or more. So you had an insane markup plus 25% sales tax. Fair? No. They were finally forced to implement the tax-free policy and made it as difficult as possible to implement. It always surprised me that hospitals and research institutions were not more aggressive and adamant about having this tax-free policy enforced many years ago already, considering the financial difficulties many find themselves in at present. 

Some thoughts about the film The Burrowers

Apropos Kristen Stewart—her recent film, Snow White and the Huntsman, was not a movie I liked very much and I really don’t understand the hype surrounding it. This film got a wide release and generated big box office; I cannot imagine why. I think all involved did passable jobs, but no more than that. The film is forgettable once you’re out of the theater. Charlize Theron overacted/over-reacted and Kristen Stewart under acted/under-reacted (few to no facial expressions in key scenes and so little to say; it was sometimes painful to watch, especially the final scene. It almost seemed as if she was struggling to get some words out, but they never came). Chris Hemsworth did the best acting job if you ask me, within the limited emotional range of the film. The entire film had a wooden feel to it. One can hope that there will be no sequel. I cannot see how it would be feasible, realistic or even necessary. What more is there to say about this story that hasn’t already been said?

The other night I watched a film on Showtime called The Burrowers, from 2008. This film was apparently never released to the movie public and instead went straight to DVD. I don’t understand the rationale for that move, since I thought it was a much better film than big budget Snow White and the Huntsman. Who makes these decisions? The Burrowers was actually quite a creepy little horror film, albeit a very unusual horror film since it was set in the American Wild West during 1879. It is a bit slow-moving, but the characters are interesting and well-developed, as is the storyline. A family living out on the lonely prairie disappears without a trace, and a posse is formed to try and find them/rescue them from the Native American Indians whom they are sure have abducted them. How wrong they are. Their discovery that entities other than Indians are stalking them, waiting for them in the dark, is as I said, creepy, because they, like us, find it hard to believe that such monsters could exist out on the plains. But they do. And they are not just any monsters, they are burrowers, creatures that live underground and who have a penchant for tracking and eating humans. But their mode for doing this is quite unique, and I won’t spoil the film by giving this information away, except to say that it is exploited in an effort to kill them off. The creatures, which are CGI creations, are scary enough such that the film works. The Burrowers is a clever film, and while some people on IMDB have complained about the film’s ending, I found it to be realistic, though unsatisfying. All the loose ends are not tied up. The monsters are not completely wiped out. What the film manages to convey very well is a sense of dread; imagine you are out on the prairie at night, sitting around a fire at your campsite. Your vision is limited, the dark envelopes you, you hear noises. Even if there were no monsters, the reality of spending the night out under the open skies, exposed and vulnerable, could be anxiety-inducing for many people. I am one of them. The film never plays for laughs; it takes itself seriously, and that is one of its strengths. Additionally, you get a real feel for what life must have been like in 1879—long periods of isolation, no internet, no phones, little communication, mostly rumors and innuendoes, and the constant threat of attack. I found myself thinking of the X-Files, always a good sign in my book, because some of the X-Files episodes were quite scary. The Burrowers brought to mind the X-Files episode Detour from 1997. Both the film and the TV episode are well-worth watching. 

Life in a fishbowl

Been thinking a bit about the whole celebrity worship thing and the role of the media in magnifying news stories of celebrity happenings. I know it’s all been around for quite a while, but the intensity of the insanity didn’t really distress me until the recent report that Kristen Stewart had cheated on her Twilight and real-life boyfriend Robert Pattinson with Snow White and the Huntsman movie director Rupert Sanders. Ok, so I know the names of all involved. It’s impossible not to know that information these days. Everywhere you turn, there was the same story. The story ‘broke’ in the media in a manner reserved for invasions of countries by aggressors and the start of world wars. All hell broke loose. You would have thought someone famous had died—a statesman, the pope, a president. God only knows. I didn’t watch the major TV news channels that day but I shudder to think of the news coverage of this trite infidelity story. Of course we all know it didn’t deserve this amount of news coverage, but heck, infidelity sells newspapers, magazines, and gets people to watch the TV news. It gets fans to spread the story on Facebook, on Twitter, and all other social media avenues available. I couldn’t believe how fans took the news. You would have thought Bella and Edward from Twilight were real people with a real life. But alas, they are not. Fans should try to understand the difference--Kristen is not Bella, Robert is not Edward. Fans may want them to be, but they are not. Their movie marriage was not real; they were not married to each other in real life. Rupert Sanders is a married man with children. It just points out yet again that the celebrities worshipped by society are just regular people who blunder along and fail like the rest of us, but who do so in a fishbowl unlike anything we could possibly imagine. There has always been celebrity worship (think about Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton and their affair during the filming of Cleopatra), but the coverage was more restricted at that time. It’s another world now. It’s all been written about before, analyzed to death, and talked about ad nauseum—that the celebrity hounding and worship have got to stop, but they continue. They continue because the profit motive remains the goal. But as a society, we have shifted off balance, toward a world that cannot sate itself; there will never be enough news that’s fit to print about any celebrity or film star. The fixation on dissecting celebrities and film stars into minute atoms and to report the results of these dissections—that will continue to snowball. I sense desperation now where before there was just excessive curiosity. What is the natural end of desperation?

Changing the way we work

So many people I know or have met recently no longer work the traditional 9am to 5pm workday schedule in a formal workplace. And they seem perfectly happy about this. It struck me more on this trip to New York; that this trend seems to have become a major societal change during the past few years--one for the better, if you ask me. A good number of people I know in both the USA and Europe are working for private companies, but are doing so from the comfort of their own homes. Many of them have home offices. Others work from home one or two days a week. All of them arrange their workday according to what is suitable. Some of them work in the mornings, take the afternoons free, and then work late into the evenings. Whatever the arrangement, I like the flexibility involved, as well as the trust factor. Companies must trust that their employees are going to deliver the goods—that employees will be effective and productive workers when they are working at home. It can be difficult—to get structured enough so that you use your home time productively. When I was starting out in the work world, I liked the more rigid structure and discipline of a formal workplace; now I welcome the flexibility of my home office days. I don’t need a formal workplace to make me a productive employee. I can do what I need to do as a scientist (working in the public sector) from home for the most part (except for the occasional lab experiments that require bench time)—read and write articles, review grants, write grants, and design experiments. I have changed, and I am glad for the change. I feel more creative when I work from home; I am not as distracted by what is going on around me as I often am when I go to my workplace. It’s easy to get lost in idle conversation with co-workers, and as enjoyable as that social contact can be, you suddenly realize that a large chunk of time has been lost from the workday. That doesn’t happen at home; even though I am in close contact with my co-workers should they need me. They only contact me, or I them, when it’s absolutely necessary, and then it’s usually to ask or answer a specific question. Sometimes we can do this via email; other times we need to talk. However it transpires, it works, and it works well. Some of my more productive years during the past decade have been years when I worked a lot from home. I think it has to do with a ‘pared-down’ existence—no gossip, no office politics, no superfluous meetings, less time wasting. It amazes me how much time can be wasted in a workplace.  In any case, I’m glad to see that private companies have recognized the need for flexibility in the way their employees work. By allowing for home offices or home office days, they are changing the face of work and the definition of the workplace, and they are welcome changes. The future of the work world is being created through these changes.

New York moments

Each year I return to Oslo after my annual trip to New York with so many impressions and memories of what I have experienced and seen. I guess because I am now a tourist in my home state, that each New York moment has become dear to me, no matter how small, mostly because I am together with good friends or with family when I experience them. I capture a lot of those moments in photos, as I am wont to do whenever I travel. I have already written one post about wandering around SoHo and lower Manhattan with Gisele, stopping in at small bakeries and cafes, shopping at Tierra, and photographing graffiti. Other moments included dinner with Debby and Eric on Long Island, lunch with Bernadette in Manhattan, visiting my brother Ray and his family, and spending time with Edith--my elderly woman friend who used to work together with me in my first Manhattan job. Photographically speaking, a major moment was photographing a large spider web (and correspondingly large spider) outside the kitchen window of my friend Jean’s house. On one of the evenings I was there, we stood watching the web and the spider’s activity for quite a while. This spider has built a web a short distance away from a wasp’s nest; nature doesn’t ignore golden opportunities. This spider was definitely big enough to tackle a wasp in its web.

Spider and its web

Closer view of spider

I also attended the Peekskill Celebration at the Riverfront Green Park on Saturday August 4^th (http://www.peekskillcelebration.com/) together with Jean and Maria; there was some great live music—one of the R&B bands particularly stood out—New York Uproar (http://newyorkuproar.com/home/). Lots of great old songs from my growing-up years from the likes of Average White Band, Blood Sweat & Tears, Chicago, Ides of March, and many others. You can find the complete song list on the New York Uproar website. The height of this evening had to be the fantastic fireworks that went on for nearly half an hour, sponsored by Entergy (see my short film of some of the fireworks here:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1-wXGNf02vs). I’m including the information from the website about this event:    

      

The Entergy Fireworks Extravaganza is the largest fireworks display north of the Macy's annual Fourth of July display and is one of the signature activities that make Celebration unique in the Hudson Valley. The pyrotechnic display is synced with music provided by WHUD 100.7 Radio. Whether from land or on water, the fireworks are an amazing sight to behold.

And then on Sunday evening, Jean, her sister Barbara, Maria and I ended up at the beautiful Boscobel Hudson River estate in Garrison (http://www.boscobel.org/) for the Hudson Valley Shakespeare Festival (http://hvshakespeare.org/), which has been an annual event for us for at least the past five years or so. This year Romeo and Juliet was on the menu—a modernized version of this tragedy—and it was very good. Much of the first act was played for laughs, which was unusual but not at all irritating. But I would guess that Shakespearean purists might find some bones to pick with this production. Nonetheless, it has a lot going for it, especially with the younger lead actors and actresses, who bring their youthful enthusiasm to their roles. It wasn’t hard to remember, when watching them, how absolutely overwhelming, giddy and confusing it was to really and truly fall deeply in love. You never forget those moments even though they get buried in the stuff of daily life, but watching this version of Shakespeare’s play really brought them back, a testament to the fine acting jobs.

View of the Hudson River from the Boscobel estate in Garrison

Tent where the Shakespeare plays take place

I always enjoy my time in New York visiting friends and family. Friends have commented on my packed schedule when I’m there, and the fact that I travel quite a bit around from one place to another, but it doesn’t feel rushed or stressful. I feel free, and that’s a great feeling. It’s summer, the sun is shining, the warm weather beckons, I’m on vacation, and life is easy. I found time to walk from Tarrytown to Irvington to meet my good friend Laura for lunch, and marveled at the beauty of these two adjoining river towns. I know I was privileged to grow up in Tarrytown, along the beautiful Hudson River. I talked about this with my friend Stef on my recent visit with her and her husband John. (Stef also grew up in Tarrytown but now lives in New Jersey, as I did for four years in the 1980s). It’s not something you understand as a child; mostly you just want to get away from small-town life when you are a young adult, and it wouldn’t have mattered how beautiful any aspect of that life really was then. You need to get out and see the world. I am speaking for myself, but I know of others who felt the same way as I did when they were younger. Stef picked me up at the New Brunswick train station in New Jersey, and drove me to where I used to live, an apartment complex in Somerset; it was interesting to see how much has changed since I moved from there. What was once open farmland that stretched for miles along Route 27, has been built up with shopping centers and housing complexes. I hardly recognized the area. However, my apartment complex looked the same, if a bit older and in need of a few renovations, but what I noticed most were the numbers of trees that had grown up around it. Lovely tall trees, providing shade in the summer’s heat. That’s the kind of progress I like, because it contributes to the creation of beauty. 

Somerset New Jersey apartment complex

The promise of summer

I could just as well have entitled this post ’a taste of summer’. Either way, you’ll understand what I mean about fleeting glimpses of summer—those tantalizing warm sunny days that lead you to believe that real summer is right around the corner. But somehow real summer never materializes. That has been the summer experience in Oslo this year. Perhaps it is more correct to say that summer (as most of us define it—sunny and warm days) came and went in May, which had some wonderfully warm summer-like days (in fact, I wrote a post at that time called The Smells of Summer: http://paulamdeangelis.blogspot.no/2012/05/smells-of-summer.html). May was followed by two months of gray skies and rain. Temperatures have hovered around sixty degrees Fahrenheit since then. Summer has been struggling futilely to return. And then, it happened. Today is a real summer day. Yesterday was also a real summer day. Tomorrow is predicted to be a real summer day. I’ll believe it when I see it. I trust nothing and no one, not the clear night sky of tonight, not the balmy night temperature, not the golden moon, not weather reporters, and least of all the newspapers that are constantly telling us that ‘summer is finally here’. No, it’s not (well maybe it will be for the rest of August—hope springs eternal. I’m not a pessimist). Real summer is what I just experienced for ten glorious days in New York. So hot (temperatures hovering around 90 degrees Fahrenheit) that it feels like the heat is rising up from the street pavements, so hot that you have to throw off the bed sheets at night, even though the ceiling fan is on (can’t run the air-conditioners 24/7—the electric bills would be out of sight). So hot that my friend’s terrace is too hot to walk on in my bare feet. So hot that you think about running through the sprinkler that is watering the plants that need the water more than we do. But I am not complaining. My friends complained about the heat. The New York media reported and complained about the heat. Not me. I savored every chance I got to soak in the sun’s warmth and the summer’s heat and humidity. I walked when others drove their air-conditioned cars, although I enjoyed the a/c too, don’t misunderstand me. I had my water bottle with me on my walks and sipped it when I got thirsty. I rested when I got tired. That’s what the heat forces you to do—slow down. You can do everything you normally do, just at a slower pace. And really, what’s wrong with that? I took the train into Manhattan from Irvington, and sat on the platform benches waiting for the train, breathing in the smell of the wooden platform and the tracks. I see what I never saw before, because now I am a tourist in my home state, and I get to appreciate what I took for granted before when I was younger and lived there. I never get over how beautiful New York State is during the summer months. It doesn’t matter if I am upstate (in Tarrytown, Cortlandt Manor, Albany, or Pine Bush) or in New York City. New York is a beautiful state; it has the Hudson River, the lovely Hudson River towns and estates that I have written about many times, lakes, lush green parks and forests, and abundant farmland. It also has the Catskill and Adirondack mountains; I have not spent much time hiking in them, but it’s on my bucket list. Once you get outside of the city, you come into contact with a myriad of insects—mosquitoes, spiders, flies, crickets, and cicadas. You hear the latter two in the evenings, especially. Do I get bitten by mosquitoes? Yes I do, and the bites are irritating enough so that I ended up buying Benadryl to alleviate the itching. Ticks have become a real problem in semi-rural and rural areas; I actually know several people who have had Lyme’s disease—hikers, golfers, and fishermen.

Back in Oslo. I hope for some continuous weeks of summer from now on. Why? So that the feeling of anxiety disappears, that nagging, slightly frantic feeling of wanting to pack a summer’s worth of experiences into one or two warm days, as though we have gotten a reprieve from prison and have to make the most of it. That feeling that you cannot waste a single warm day, because a real summer day wasted is a summer day gone forever. It has felt like that for some of us this summer. You make the best of it, you don’t complain, you live one day at a time, and you hope for better weather. But many Norwegians decided early on to abandon their country for warmer lands—and did so in droves. The charter trip companies made out like bandits this summer. Financially-struggling countries in southern Europe found themselves invaded by northern Europeans seeking sun and warmth. So it’s not just me who misses real summers. And I can remember real summers here in Oslo during the 1990s when I first moved here; the shift toward cooler, shorter and rainier summers has occurred during the past five to seven years. If this is what global warming is doing to our planet--changing weather patterns to this degree--then I can only wonder about what future summers will bring.   

New York city graffiti (street art in New York)

When I was in New York recently, I spent a day wandering around lower Manhattan with my good friend Gisele. I just had to take some photos of the interesting graffiti we saw. I'm always amazed at the talented graffiti artists out there, in whatever city I happen to be visiting. Hope you enjoy these photos. I'll post some others soon.