Tall and blond?

The picture is taken in Monterey in May of last year. Since then my daughter has grown, and is now about my height. One day both of us were standing in front of the mirror, and I commented:

- I think we are the same height ... or maybe even a bit taller.

Mac

Two years ago we didn't have a dog. And we were not planning for one either.

In January 2008, my son Filip and I were having our mother/son trip. I had asked him: Would you prefer to go to Peru, Kenya or Cambodia? He answered: I wouldn't mind California. So, California, it was!

Our friends took us to Newport Beach and we had a wonderful day there at the coast. Before going back to their home for the afternoon, they insisted that we should also visit the pet shop at Fashion Island (Newport Beach). That afternoon Filip and I fell in love with the sweetest puppy ever. Luckily, we had never read any books about buying a dog, so we didn't know that we should be careful with buying a dog in a pet shop and we should make sure it was not sick. So the day after we drove back to Fashion Island and bought a sick dog in a pet shop. It wasn't even a pure breed, but a Morkie!

OK, there were some obstacles to getting it from California to Norway. I still feel guilty for leaving the puppy with our good friends from February till end of March. And then of course it was some extra work with actually moving to the US and having the kids in school there, finding a place to stay and all the rest of it. In July I could finally bring Mac with me to Norway.

It wasn't always easy, but it was worth it: We think we have the best dog in the world. Mac comforts us and always looks at us with trust and expectation. He gives us energy. We all love him dearly.

(Tonight he has eaten cat shit and has gotten diarrhea, and in the picture he has just eaten a gecko, but who cares?)

At a crossroads

Whether I interpret Frost's poem "The road not taken" ironically or literally, it is an interesting comment to choices and life direction (see poem below). I don't want to be a person who always says: I should rather have done this or that; I should have taken another road. Instead I want to look forward, knowing that I am not walking alone. And even if it may not be possible to go back, it is possible to change direction, when needed.

The road not taken

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

(Robert Frost, 1916)

Seeing the world

Sometimes I see the world through a lens and it creates a distance to people. (That's partly why it is so nice to travel with a photographer - so I don't have to take pictures and video myself.) Other times, looking through that lens actually brings me closer to others. If people are comfortable with it, then it gives me an opportunity of looking really closely at people, and it even creates some bonding with the person in the photo.

I know it may sound a bit pretentious, but my desire is to see the world through the same lens as God is seeing people. I wonder what the world would really look like if I was able to do that. I sense it would change both how I see others, but also how I see myself.

God-daughter

It was May 2005, and I was visiting Cuzco. As part of a tour, we went to a spring. I was told that if I drank the water, I would stay young forever. Well, that was worth trying, so I drank some of the water. Some people looked shocked; as they were sure I would get sick from the water. But a couple of the guides started to laugh, and told me another detail to the story of the old spring: Due to my age, I would get twins within two years if I drank the water.

One year later, on my next trip to Peru, I was asked to be the God-mother of two tiny small Shipibo Indian twins. They were so beautiful - both of them. I wondered if I would ever see them again.

Four months later I met them again, in the same village in the Amazon jungle. They had grown so much! But unfortunately they both were sick with some kind of infection. It took two years till I again visited the area, and only then I learned that one of my dear little twins had died from that infection.

But I had one girl left, and she sat on my lap for hours! Although she was shy, she was very aware of who I was. And when I visited this April, she knew perfectly well who I am. We had a really good time together.

In my experience, embracing some extra people into the family sphere is enriching life. Nobody needs to be lonely in this world if we all include a few extra kids, aunts, grandparents... and whether we bond with someone in Peru, US, Ethiopia, Bangladesh or Norway doesn't matter. But the bonding matters!

I have visited my girl in Peru four times now. Each time I leave, it's like leaving a little piece of my heart there. At the same time, it also feels like the heart is growing. So, cheers to bonding and life - with Inca Kola!

Snorkelling

My favourite places in the world when it comes to snorkelling are East Coast of Zanzibar, North-East coast of Sulawesi (Indonesia), Koh Phangan and Krabi (Thailand) and Bonaire (Caribbean).

Chubby cheeks

”How do baby chickens dance?”
“Chick to Chick, naturally.”

Ok, it’s not very funny, but I found it in my English students’ textbook. And it is sweet, though.

Today I include a picture of me getting a hug from a little girl in Lima, Peru. Her mother is a prostitute, and left her with a poor woman when she was just a baby. It was amazing to see how her foster-mother cares for her. Being poor and with a husband that has abandoned her and her own kids, she still take very good care of that little girl.

The thing is, I can still feel the hug; Her tiny arms around my neck. Her eyes filled with skepticism and trust at the same time.

There are also other hugs I can still feel; some from family and some from friends. Some from almost strangers. For some reasons there are some hugs that will follow me forever. It’s like it was yesterday.

I guess my chubby cheeks are made for hugging.

Why Reflect?

“Reflect is an innovative approach to adult learning and social change, which fuses the theories of Paulo Freire with the methodologies of participatory rural appraisal. Originally developed in pilot projects in Bangladesh, El Salvador and Uganda between 1993-95, Reflect is now used by over 500 organizations in around 70 countries worldwide.” For more information see http://www.reflect-action.org/

In 1996 I was studying in Bristol, England, for a Master in education and development. One of my teachers recognized that I was very interested in Non-Formal Education, and told me about this very innovative approach to literacy being launched in March that year. I was lucky enough to be in London when ActionAid introduced the Reflect approach to literacy. Years later I started working with ADRA and we are using this very participatory and innovative approach in projects in both Sudan and Cambodia. Women (and sometimes also men and children) meet in groups - and not only learn how to read and write, but get a chance to analyze their own environment, and pressing issues in the community. This may include all kinds of issues from health, up-bringing of children, domestic violence, human trafficking, refugee specific issues, access to income, environment etc etc.

Because the approach has such potential, I continue to be drawn to it. Meeting women who claim that their lives have been substantially transformed, moves me.

And I just like the word: Reflect. I want to continue to reflect on life in order to learn more and hopefully become wiser. That’s why I chose the name Reflect for the blog.

Once in a lifetime

Those who have spent some time with me are aware that I am easily overwhelmed by noise and light. When it is my turn to choose music to listen to in the car, I usually choose silence. Obviously Tivoli in Copenhagen is not my favorite place to enjoy life. Knowing this, I would assume that Chuck E. Cheese's would be the worst place on earth for me to spend an afternoon.

Surprise, surprise: I actually enjoyed it. It was so noisy that I could hardly hear my own thoughts. The various game machines were flashing and blinking. And still I had a good time with the kids, husband, friends, friends' kids etc. Even though I felt totally out of place, I was able to just be a kid and play as one.

I also love the pictures we took in the photo booth!

All that said, I still think a friend of mine was right when he commented on his visit with his kids to the place: "It's a once in a lifetime experience. You visit once, and then you never do it again!"

The importance of names

I am not particularly good with names. Or faces. The combination is disastrous, as I appear to be arrogant and indifferent, when in fact I just don't recall having met someone before. To compensate for this, I take no chances and smile to people who look the slightest familiar. Sometimes I realize that it was a comedian from TV or a well known politician that I have smiled to and greeted with great conviction. I am always impressed by people who seem to remember my name; I feel seen and valued. So when I started as a teacher a month ago, I took some effort in remembering everybody’s name. And what I found is that not only do I remember each person's name, but I feel closer and relate better. I genuinely like my students and care for them.

I also care for the two girls that Frank Spangler (photographer) and I made a documentary about three years ago. Far west in Cambodia, four hours on a bumpy road outside of Pursat, we had learned to know about the lives of two wonderful young girls, named Mean and San. After we made the documentary I told about the two girls in churches and schools in Norway. Mean and San became known to a lot of people.

Two years later Frank and I again visited the girls to make a follow up on the lives of the girls and their families. I know I can never assume what a culture is like, but I must admit I was a bit puzzled when we reached the village and asked for Mean and San, and people looked at us like they didn't understand who we were talking about. However, we directed the driver to one of the girls houses. The house was no longer there - the family had moved. And then we went to San's house. She was there! We greeted San, and she looked at us, a bit strange. To make a longer story shorter, it turned out that we had been using her last/family name as her first name, and now addressed her with her family name. The reason being that when we had asked her mother to write down her name two years earlier, she had written it as normal in Cambodia - the family name first.

Both Mean and San forgave us, and we still use their family names, but if I ever visit them again I will make an effort to learn their first names - because I think name matters.

Reflections

I am known to talk before I think. It is not a good thing, and I tell myself again and again never to do it. One way of compensating for it may be to use a blog where I at least have to think before I publish. I will give it a try...