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Archive for October, 2011

Want to read a blog by lip glossed Gunndis?

My kids are a product of their world. Which means they spend countless hours doing brainless activities on the computer.

I asked them today at dinner why they want to give the time of day to some of the bloggers they read. They read blogs written by teenage girls who hardly can spell their names, and whose main interest in life is how to look good and plan what to wear. This they will write about.  They will write a whole blog about their favorite lipgloss and they will say that the best thing in life is a hair straightener. They will tell you, on the blog, what they wore to school that day and why. They will use language that is so unsophisticated and uneducated that you would think they just barely graduated from second grade.

One of Norway's most popular bloggers. She writes about things like shoes and boys.

This, my girls read. The daughters of a woman who reads classic literature and who read a book on the politics of Eastern Europe for fun when I was in high-school. Needless to say, I am not impressed with my kids choice of literature.

Why do you give them the time of day? I asked, hands in the air. These girls don’t deserve your attention. The answer I got: Because it is brainless.

They said that brainless activity is great as long as one enjoys it. They said that good times are not wasted times (which I agree with. But how can reading about a 15-year olds toiletry bag choice be defined as good times?)

So I am on a mission. I will bribe my kids. Fair and square. I will pay them good money for every book they read. The catch is: It has to be a book recommended by mom. Oh, boy. Dostojevski for teens, perhaps.

Why not read something by him instead. As far as I can remember, he too writes about shoes and boys.

We did talk about this for a while. Then we moved on to talking about Norwegian names. You see, they are different. Blond straight hair and lip glossed lips or not. You have to admit that somebody with the name Gunndis needs a break. Or how about Ingull and Kristlaug? The boys may be called common names such as Arnfinn, Eilert, Gulbrand og Oddvar. But some are also called good, old viking names like Lodmund, Valbjørn and Øyfred.

A little cultural lesson here. In blogging, reading and naming.

One of my all-time favorite books. It has suspense, poetic language, surprises, a good plot and good style. The bear may have been named Lodmund.

Put on your armor when walking in the storm.

Wear your armor in the snow storm!

After writing blogs for more than a year now, I feel like I must be repeating myself a lot. Basically, I don’t have that many new and original ideas. It mostly goes in the same issues. Same, same, but different, as they say in Vietnam.

So what I have to say today is not original by no means. So feel free to stop reading.

It is a windy, rainy, sleety, cold(y), nasty, autumny day here by the Polar circle. I don’t care what they say, it’s not particularly cozy. Even with a fire burning, a dramatic view from the living room, a dry house, a good book to read, chamomile tea and slippers,  I don’t think it is cozy to sit inside and look at the crazy weather outside. It makes me cold to look at it. And it messes up the floors when the dog goes outside. (Which he has had to do on his own the last couple of days. “You are on your own,” I say and slam the door shut before the wind grabs a hold of our furniture.)

But today I started feeling a little crazy from all the inside air. I thought that going for a walk wasn’t going to kill me even if it may be a bit uncomfortable. Another issue was that I needed a break from my kids. Don’t tell them.

It’s only October, so it is not even close to the kind of cold we will be having in a couple of months. But let me share what I put on before taking the dog out for a walk in the dark and gloomy night: A smart-wool short-sleeved shirt, a cotton long-sleeved shirt, a lamb-wool sweater, cotton tights, water & wind proof pants, a rain/wind shell, a thick head-band, gloves, a reflective vest and my hiking booths. By the time I was ready I felt like I was boiling. Marley and I went outside. It was dark. It was windy. It rained a little. It was cold. And it was…surprisingly refreshing. As we walked I felt myself feeling happier and happier. The cold air felt good. The wind played in my hair. The rain drops refreshed me. The dark made the world feel eternal. We walked a lot longer than we planned, Marley and me.

When I got inside again I was a lot happier.

I thought:

1. I will do this more often, even if the weather sucks. Who decides what good and bad weather is?

2. Just like Paul speaks about the armor in Ephesians, I needed my armor on tonight when I went walking. Without the right clothes, the trip would have been miserable. But dressed right, it was pleasurable. In life it is just the same. Wear the right armor and be prepared for any situation, even a storm. And chances are that when you face the storm dressed in your armor, you will feel refreshed and rejuvenated after the storm.

The wisdom of the day.

(I still hope for a few more sunny days though. Don’t misunderstand me.)

This is us a week ago. There is actually a mountain behind us. It was such bad weather that we were the only ones outside. We had a blast.

Who has heard of Min Ko Naing?

It’s been the boringest of boring days. The day when I had to spend hours and hours doing receipts, reimbursements, bill paying, answering boring emails, eating boring food. I had to stand in boring lines at the post office and listened to boring music on the radio.

Imagine how boring it must be to sit in a small prison cell for years. Eating prison food and doing prison chores. Listening to prison sounds and taking cold prison showers. Imagine doing having to that when you haven’t even done anything wrong.

Imagine being put in a cell alone for years. With no windows, with hardly enough room to fit your body. Imagine the worst kind of torture done to your mind and your body. Imagine standing in water for weeks until you have lost all feeling in your feet.

Min Ko Naing hasn’t just imagined this. He has experienced it. He has been sentenced to 65 years in prison for organizing a peaceful demonstration, wishing for freedom in Burma. Before that he organized other demonstrations for democracy and freedom. He was one of the main student leaders during the 8888 uprisings (August 8th 1988). For his participation in these demonstrations he spent 15 years in Insein prison, Burma’s worst jail.

He is still in prison. His health is failing. His body is falling apart. He is in a prison somewhere in Shan State now. Alone, far from his family.

I have thought about him today. I have wondered how he thinks the progress in Burma is going. We have heard, from many international leaders, that the change in Burma is happening so fast. It is such a positive change. It is going the right way for democracy in Burma. I wonder if Min Ko Naing feels the same way as the osteoporosis he is suffering from, and the cold in his prison cell are eating their way into the core of his being.

I have been thinking of him and the almost 2000 other prisoners who are in jail simply because they did not agree with the military dictators. I have been wondering why the world is so quick to shout hurrah for a regime that does not have the guts to let these men and women free.

I am ashamed on the behalf of these leaders that do not seem to see that the issue in Burma goes far beyond their desire to lift economic sanctions. It goes into the prisons where innocent men and women have sat for years. Wishing for freedom, and willing to give their lives to bring it to their people.

I think that we owe the thousands of political prisoners who are still suffering in their moldy, cold and wet cells to speak for them. I think we owe them to make some phone calls to some leaders and remind them that there is still plenty that must be done in Burma. I think we owe them to let the world know that if there ever was a time to keep sanctions firm, it is now.

That is what I think today. And when I think some more, I realize that my day was pretty good. I could stretch my body. I could eat several meals. I was not too cold or too hot. Nobody tortured me.

Born to run?

I couldn't find a photo of me running. But walking is OK too. We were born to walk. Yes!

Today I had a great run. It was a perfect fall day, cool, sunny, yellow leaves in the forest, the smell of rotting vegetation. I had new shoes, a very green jacket, my tights and an orange head band. No chance I would be mistaken for a moose. The ground was soggy with water. It has been raining so much that some places there were big puddles I had to navigate over. I did not succeed in staying dry. Not at all. I was soaked by the end of the run.

I just finished a great book. It is called Born to Run. It sounds boring, especially if you are not a runner. But I really loved the book and the way it described the joy of running. You should read it if you are remotely interested.

Of the many things I learned from the book was that running is supposed to be enjoyable. Yeah, I know. Enjoyable. One of the things my sister once told me when I was going for a run and she was happy sitting inside reading her book was: I have yet to see a runner who smiles while running. That stuck with me.

So, back to the book. Chris Mc Dougall thinks we were all born to run. And after reading the book, you will too. And then it is the part about enjoying it.

The last couple of days I have gone for long runs. I decided to follow Mr. McDougall’s advice so I ran slow, took short steps, smiled, and when I started feeling like it was hard work, I slowed down. I even decided to drop the iPod because getting the right kind of music always stresses me out. I decided to just listen to nature and the silence around me.

It has been the best two runs of the year. Honestly.

So I thought about life, in the quiet of the forest, as I was skipping over and through puddles. Life is like a run. We can choose to run it the way we want. We can rush through it, time ourselves, cuss through the intervals, get feet and knee injuries, run out of good playlists, compare ourselves to the others, compete with the best and lose. Or we can decide that we run for the sake of the run. We enjoy the moment, we slow down, we breathe deeply, we listen to the music around us. And we end the race refreshed and ready to start over again the next day.

Tomorrow I will find a new place to run and I am looking forward to it. I am starting to think I was Born to run.

Of course we were born to run. Just look at kids. Kristin and her friend running in the mountains.

A cold with a hangover

Notice Marley's smile. He is happy his mummy is back.

Here are some things I have learned today:

Jetlag is a real condition. It feels like a combination of a hangover and a cold. Pretty miserable.

I have too many clothes. I have spent the day unpacking my suitcase, and, lo and behold, my closet was already full. With my new outfits that I inherited from a friend in the US and accidentally bought at REI, there is a slight shortage of space. The solution: Move the summer clothes to a different venue and I have space for more.

Norway is colder than Colorado, Michigan and Minnesota in October. Makes me miss Colorado, Michigan and Minnesota.

When I go and buy groceries for the week in Norway I spend 170 dollars. That is a lot more than I would spend in other countries. (Mind you, I did not buy fillet mignon, wine or imported cheese, just TP, flour, veggies, bananas, microwave popcorn and that kind of stuff.)

Even though the floors were spotless and clean yesterday, they got dirty today.

Kids haven’t necessarily learned how to pick up after themselves even though mom has been gone for three weeks.

Kristin got new shorts, t-shirt, socks and soccer ball from America. She did not care that it was only 5 degrees Celsius (40 F) outside.

Burma hasn’t changed much even though I was gone for three weeks.

I came back too late to pick the cranberries in the forest.

One needs a scarf when going outside in October.

I take crappy photos.

Our dog Marley loves me so much he dances to make sure I know. It is the truth.

Jetlag is real (like I already said).

A Norwegian in Minnesota

I am in Minnesota now. Minnesota is a place to go if you want to feel treasured as a Norwegian. They like us Vikings a lot here!

We went to the Norwegian church called Mindekirken and joined about 100 men and women who had some kind of connection to Norway. We sang the prayer before lunch in Norwegian, and the lunch was…you may have guessed it: Waffles with jam and sour cream, open faced sandwiches with brown cheese or meat and a strong cup of coffee. Just like in Norway.

The walls were decorated with Norwegian art and photos. The rooms in the church were named after places in Norway. The people I talked to were into genealogy and history. Many of them knew Norway better than me. Marilyn, a sharp lady of about 70 gave me some geography questions about my country that I could not answer. She told me the answer, and now I will ask my friends the same questions next time we play trivial pursuit. They announced Lutefisk dinners and other events.

I was there,in Minnesota, with people whose ancestors came from Norway, sharing about the people of Burma and about living in Thailand.

From the Scandinavian corner, we went to the Burma corner. We went to the office of KOM, an NGO run by Karen and Americans who are helping the Karen who have resettled in Minnesota. We talked about issues concerning the Karen in the US and the Karen in Burma, and agreed that we can work together to make the lives easier for the Karen in both countries.

In ending the day I am reflecting on how lucky I am to get to meet so many interesting and committed people. And I am amazed at all the men and women I have met who are giving their lives to serve and to help. I am understanding that the world is run by volunteers and committed people who believe that they can make a difference.

Free, full lives for the children in Burma?

Tonight I went to the Friends’ church of Fairbanks annual fundraiser for Partners. It was a great event.

This is the story I shared:

Emily Paw was three. She wore a bracelet and two ankle bracelets. Her hair had small curls. I took a dress out from my bag and handed it to her. It had belonged to Kristin. Now Emily Paw put it on quickly, stood up and smiled. She twirled around for some seconds enjoying the attention she got. In her mind she was nothing less than a princess. While the adults kept talking she kept dancing, stopping only to pick up one more candy that was in a bag on the low table.

Her dad had died a month ago. He had been young, only 24. His little girl and his beautiful wife of 23 were his biggest treasures. When the Burma Army surrounded their village, made an army camp close by and started enforcing unlivable rules on the villagers, life became miserable. Their little village that had been a paradise before the soldiers arrived now felt more like a prison.

No leaving the village after dark, they said. No leaving the village to go to the rice fields, they continued. Land mines were placed on the trails so that the villagers who broke the rules would suffer severely. We need people to work on our camp, they demanded. We need some of you to carry our equipment. We need some of you to be mine sweepers. We need some of you to clear land for us. The villagers were now not just prisoners, they became the army’s slaves as well.

Emily Paw’s family was hungry all the time. They were not allowed to leave the village, so how were they supposed to find food? One night her dad snuck outside, hoping it would not be noticed. He went to hunt for an animal. They needed some meat to eat.

When he had shot an animal he snuck back on the trail. He smiled as he thought of his little girl’s joy when she was given a warm, nice meal to eat.

He never made it home. The soldiers had noticed that he was gone, they went to find him and met him on the trail. Without mercy they tortured him, killed him and left him on the trail where the villagers found him the next day. His dead body was meant as a warning.

Emily Paw’s mom was telling me the story. She spoke quietly and without much emotion. But Emily heard the name of her dad mentioned as she danced by in her new dress. “Daddy?” she asked. “Where is Daddy. I really miss him?”

Our vision in Partners is Free, full lives for the children of Burma. Some people wonder if that is all. Don’t you want to do more than just help the children? They wonder. There are so many other needs. 

But how can the children in Burma experience free, full lives?

They must be able to live in a country not controlled by a brutal army who commit the most heinous crimes with impunity. That is why we want to focus more on advocacy in Partners. We are the advocates for the children who have lost their parents, their homes, their right to go to school , their right to get medicine when they are sick, their right to play in the forest without stepping on land mines, the right to worship the God they believe in without discrimination, the right to dream, the right to plan, the right to preserve their own culture and heritage.

They must be able to eat when they are hungry. That is why Partners focuses on bringing rice and other food supplies to the people in hiding. It is also why we focus more and more on development. We train the people in the villages in agriculture and aqua culture so that they can be self-sustained, and increase their crops. We show them how to grow new vegetables, fruits and herbs in order to enrich their diet. Everything we do can be reproduced without our help.

They must be able to get treatment when they are sick. That is why Partners spends so much of our money and resources on buying medicines that get sent to Burma with relief teams. This is why we spend so much time, energy and resources training medics that can go to the villages and to the displaced populations to treat the sick. This is why we train village leaders in basic community health. This is why we teach women how to help deliver babies. This is why we bring people with severe sicknesses to Thailand for professional care.

They must be able to go to school. This is why we support thousands of teachers that teach in small, local village schools in Karen State, Karenni State and Shan State. Children should be able to go to school in their own community instead of being sent away to go to school in refugee camps or towns far away. Children will be tomorrow’s leaders. By building and supporting schools we build a nation.

They must be able to feel safe, loved and cared for even when they have been orphaned or sent away by parents who, for whatever reason, is not able to care for them. This is why we support orphanages and children homes.

They must be able to play and have fun. This is why we spend money on sport equipment, art supplies and music instruments. For a little while they can experience the carless you of childhood, and develop their skills and talents in sport, music or art.

Their soul must be cared for. This is why we have developed child trauma care, and train leaders in how to minister to children who have been traumatized.This is also why we want to do soul and trauma care for the adults. How can they help the children when their own wounds are open?

They need to know that  they are loved and not forgotten, by God, by us and by the world. This is why we always remind them of that.

Free, full lives for the children of Burma. Is it a vision too narrow? No, I don’t think so. But can it happen? I think it can. It may just take a while.

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