Crazy about Eurovision

All my conscious life I remember myself and people around me having a “love-hate relationship” with Eurovision Song Contest. Even though nearly all of my friends and relatives claim they don’t like “that kind of music”, we haven’t missed a single Eurovision. Wherever you are that special day in May, the TV is always on, and everybody is waiting anxiously for “our” entry.

The majority of my life I watched Eurovision together with my family or friends in Lithuania. Even one day before the final Maths exam in high school, even one week before submitting my BA thesis – Eurovision did not lose its strange importance. The most common mood after every contest used to be – “we were very good, but they didn’t understand us.” I saw the same mood spreading among representatives of many nations, when watching the competition with other Erasmus students in 2007. This year I had a chance to watch Eurovision in a new way again – I watched it together with people of one, but other than my own, nation. As it appeared later – it was the nation which won.


Already a week before Eurovision, D. invites the Creative Industries people to watch the contest together with him and his friends. It is their yearly tradition to gather around the big screen in VIP room of Kristiansand’s Sør Arena. Also traditionally, D. and his friends place bets for their favorite contestants and then party until the morning, spending the prize of the (usually) generous winner.

The word “VIP” brings all the corresponding images from American films to my head. I imagine a dark room with neon lights, built up with extremely comfortable sofas and many dark corners for privacy. Fancy dressed people are chatting and laughing on the sofas with full glasses of champagne. There is a huge TV screen all over the front wall, but nobody is interested in the show itself that much.

On the special Saturday Will and me meet E. and I. outside our house. It appears that the arena is just a 15 minute walk away from our apartment. I. is wearing a beautiful blue dress, and my suspicions about the fanciness of the party become stronger. I am a bit sorry that I haven’t chosen the outfit more carefully myself.

As we walk, E. tells that K. is not going to come, so there are going to be the four of us among D.’s friends. We walk through a nice neighborhood Will and me haven’t explored yet. Just next to the arena there is ICA Maxi supermarket – it is useful new information as we used to walk all the way downtown for shopping before.

At the arena we spend a while looking for the (maybe super-secret?) entrance to the VIP lounge. We see people partying at one of the entrances and assume that this might be our company. We only know one person in the group we are supposed to join, therefore a bunch of strangers seems perfectly suitable to us. The strangers are mostly middle-aged men and they also seem quite happy about the possibility of three young ladies (and Will) joining them. However, precisely the demographic characteristics of the strangers make us doubt if they are what we are looking for. We ask them if this is the VIP lounge and, having received the negative reply, continue our search.

Encountering already quite drunk people at 8 PM reminds me once again that Norwegians like to party in the light. We are ready to join the trend, but still have to find our party first. The door, which our new acquaintances have shown to us as the VIP entrance, appears to be locked. Finally, E. calls K. and finds out that the VIP lounge is totally on the other side of the building. Getting there we have to pass the strangers party again, who apologize for the wrong directions and friendly wave to us.

When we finally get into the VIP lounge, approximately 20 minutes are left until the contest starts. The lounge itself looks a bit differently from what I imagined. The place looks more like a sports bar than a VIP lounge. Instead of one big screen, there are many (not so big) screens all around the room, and instead of comfy sofas we find tall chairs. There is no mysterious darkness with neon lights either. As I suspected, we are going to party in daylight again.

However, the impressive feature of this bar (and I guess – that’s why it is called a VIP lounge) is that through the big windows you have a full view to a football stadium and, even more, you can access the stands just by opening the door. The arena belongs to the local football club Start, which is not really a leading football club in Norway, but regardless has a massive support from Kristiansand’s people. I remember how alarmed Will and I were, when we went to the city centre for the first time and found it completely empty. “What are we going to do in this town? – we thought.” Then from one bar we happened to hear a TV, seemingly in the middle of a “dramatic football match.” When the next day we heard people at work talking about an important match Start played last night, it became very clear why the city was so empty. One can say that we learned about the importance of Start through a personal experience.

Back at the Eurovision evening excitement grows, especially when we find out that local beer is cheaper than ever and champagne is nearly for free. Our group goes for both of them (which later turns out to be not the best decision for some of us). Everybody is also provided with as much of original Start crisps as they want.
From what the National TV shows before the contest, it seems that in Norway Alexander Rybak is already considered a winner. In his speech the minister of culture, religion and sport greets the “great talent”. The Norwegian journalist talks to a majority of other contestants in Moscow, and they all seem to agree that Alexander is among the leaders. The general atmosphere on the television seems relaxed and confident.

Five minutes before the start D. gives a speech about the rules of placing the bets and the general rules of the evening. The speech is in Norwegian, and the only rule I understand is no betting before we hear the music. “Because only the best music wins!” D. reveals that his personal favorite is Malta and encourages others to bet for the Maltese singer as well. This is D.’s strategy to distract others from betting for Norway, but it doesn’t seem to be going to work. People are just laughing at the attempt, and when D. comes to our table, he admits that everybody is going to bet for Norway this year, no matter what. Like the others, D. is absolutely convinced that Norway will win. Unfortunately, everyone guessing the winner correctly means no real winner in the bets.

E. translates another important rule of the evening to Will and me. We would be breaching the alcohol license agreement even if we drank beer one step behind the door. As seemingly all alcohol-related rules in Norway, this one is very strict. The lounge is the only place we can drink – even if we sit in the empty arena stands (just behind the door of the lounge), the bar could be punished.

And so the contest begins. Lithuanian representative is the first one to go on the stage, and I feel slightly embarrassed, because nobody in the VIP lounge is listening to him. The feeling of disappointment mutates into the feeling of relief, when Sasha Son decides to finish his song in Russian. Abroad I quite often hear questions if we speak Russian in Lithuania and if we at all have our own language. I have to explain over and over again that we do have a language, which is not even of Slavic origin. So now I feel a peculiar relief – people didn’t listen to Sasha Son, so his song did not add to the confusion about languages, at least not in the VIP lounge in Sør Arena.

After the performance D. comes up to our table and says that if he before thought everybody should place the bets for Malta, now he is absolutely sure Lithuania will be the winner. Translation: it was really boring, even more boring than Malta. A few other people come to say that the Lithuanian guy looked like Justin Timberlake, but was boring. I have to say that the opportunity to watch Eurovision together with another nation than my own is an enlightening experience. Whenever Lithuanian singers get few points in Eurovision, the recurrent theme in the media and internet forums is that we are “too good” – the European public does not understand our “arty” performances. The second popular explanation is that we don’t have good neighbors to vote for us. But here I go to Norway and get a simple and sincere reaction – the Lithuanian performance was just boring.

The people around us in the lounge are around thirty, good looking and well dressed, talking and laughing loudly, sometimes behaving a tad eccentrically. All in all, there are around 100 people, who all seem to know each other - lots of hugging and kissing is going on. I ask E., who are these people and how D. knows them. “Ah, they are pretty much Kristiansand’s musical elite, - E. explains.”

The elite is definitely having a great time and enjoying themselves. However, not only the first singer of the evening seems to have performed unnoticed. Eurovision is clearly only a background for this party, an excuse to gather and have fun both from seeing each other and from mocking the “euro-trash” music. Looking back to my previous Eurovision experience, I realize that this has probably always been the reason why me, my friends and family watch it. In a way, Eurovision is like Christmas, only better – it brings families and friends together, providing a fun reason to see each other and a non-commital, relaxed atmosphere.

If I were to provide a recipe for a winning song in Eurovision, I would say – make a song, which would attract the attention of a happy, more or less drunk company, where people are much more interested in each other than in what’s going on the screen. Songs which make our company stare at the screen and move together are the Greek entry and the Ukrainian girl. The Swedish entry draws the people’s attention by its extreme weirdness. Our table (especially E. and me) are mesmerized by the calm and solid Estonian song, but then again I have to admit that we are not so well integrated in the common crazy-party mood. We have come as a four and we pretty much stay as a four, observing everything a bit from a distance. Only I. spends more time with other people as it seems she has known quite a few of them before. Nevertheless, we are having a good time together and plenty of opportunities to observe. Even in parties (and maybe - especially in parties) you cannot forget that you are in a research field!

Still, one more component of such an evening seems to be a tingling feeling about “our” entry. This feeling is dominant in Lithuania, but it seems that Norway is not so different. Even if it is a “trash” competition, “we” want to win. So, when it’s time for Alexander Rybak to perform, the whole VIP lounge goes crazy. Even the alternative music “prophets”, who were before laughing at other entries and clearly not taking the whole competition seriously, now stand up singing every single word of Fairytale. I am wondering: do they really like it?..

Norway’s entry is the last one in this year’s competition, and the voting starts. There is a lot of shouting and applauding after all the big points for Norway (that means applauding nearly all the time). There is some lonely applause from our table when Lithuania or England get their points. However, generally I have given in to the general mood and happily applaud to Alexander Rybak. It feels good to have something to feel happy about and being part of a happy crowd.

However, you can feel that it was expected when Norway finally wins. It seems that people are even glad the TV broadcast is finally over. There is a bit of general chaos, as you can expect from slightly drunk people, but the news spreads that now everybody is going to Frk. Larsen as D. is DJing there. Somebody calls taxis, our four goes outside and fits into a cab. E. and Will feel tired and want to go home, but together with I. we convince them to go downtown at least for one drink. Contrarily to Will, I am very much in a party mood now and continue singing Fairytale (and, unfortunately, will come back to it many times before we get home).

I also want to dance, but when we arrive to Frk. Larsen, it is packed with people. In general, I. and E. were a bit confused, when I asked where one can dance in Kristiansand. It doesn’t seem that people really go dancing here… From what we have experienced in a month here, there are three main places for going out – Kick, Charlie’s and Frk. Larsen. In none of them people dance. Charlie’s is small and packed – everybody just drinks and talks. The evening we went to Kick, the music was playing, and there even was space, but nobody danced. Together with I. we tried to dance at Frk. Larsen, but were constantly pushed by passing by people as there wasn’t really a dance floor anywhere. The attempt to dance also showed to me that Norwegians are not very polite when they accidentally hit you or push you. Usually they don’t say anything and pretend that nothing has happened. That is a huge change after England, where they are sorry even if you push them.

Back at the Eurovision evening, we are completely squeezed at Frk. Larsen. You can’t even move, not to talk about dancing. Moreover, Will and E. are tired and, most importantly, all of us have to wake up early tomorrow to attend the Constitution day celebrations. Therefore, one more drink and we head home in order to sleep well and be all fresh for the parades.

CONTINUE READING...

Emergency (in Norwegian style)

Sometimes it may seem that we cause more trouble to E. (our supervisor and guardian :) than are of use to her... I spent quite some time in bed with fever and a sore throat, and later got an unpleasant eye infection. When I got all well, we went to a hike in the fjords with Will and some international students. Already in the beginning of the trip Will fell and bruised his face... So both me and Will have had our own reasons to check out the Kristiansand's hospital. As it is in the past now, I don't see these accidents as some bad luck. In a way, it was an opportunity to explore the different spheres of Norwegian life. We would have never taken notice of the medical system in Kristiansand if we didn't have problems. Now the observations can be useful for our research.

First trip to the hospital: an eye infection

My eye infection started last Tuesday - the sight suddenly became foggy and the eyes went sore. I go to bed hoping to feel better in the morning as together with Will we are planning to explore the zoo (for the third time already - it has to work out this time!). But when I wake up, the eyes still don't feel well, so the first plan of the day is finding a pharmacy.

I have a slight suspicion that we might not be able to buy medicine without a prescription. And, yes, couldn't have been right more - the only treatment I get are the drops of NaCl solution. If I was a Norwegian, it would be easy to get a prescription from the doctor I have registered with. And what about foreigners? "I don't know, maybe you should try just to drop in somewhere... - the pharmacist says."

The infection seems to be stronger than the power of NaCl solution, and I call E. (knowing that her whole family are doctors) to ask - maybe she has some proper medicine at home. Unfortunatelly, E. can't help with the medicine, but she is concerned about my problem and thinks that we should go and see a doctor tomorrow. We agree that E. will pick me up at 8 AM and we will together visit her own doctor.

However, in the morning it appears that the plan is not as simple as it has seemed. E.'s doctor cannot accept me, and we have to follow a general rule - "drop in" to the emergency at the hospital (it accepts everybody). This is not the first time for me as I went to the Norwegian emergency two years ago when I broke my leg in a skiing accident in Oslo. So, when I related the word "emergency" with my memories, the first thought was "oh no..."

In Oslo then the emergency was full of patients, but the doctors appeared to be not in a hurry. They were very peaceful and smiling, but it didn't help when I had to wait for two hours in pain. The doctors seemed to be very free in choosing their working pace. Despite the queue outside their door, they would walk away smiling and lock the door. After a while they would come back, smiling again, check a few patients (smiling) and go "for a walk" again.

Back then, I spent vast amount of time in the hospital, because, as a foreigner, I had to go through emergency for every check up of my leg. What is more, I saw as many different doctors as the number of times I went to the hospital. Every time I had to tell my story from the beginning, and the disturbing thing was that every single doctor saw my condition in (at least) a bit different way. After every visit to a hospital I would come home with new information about what has happened to me and what I should do now.

I feel relieved when I see that the emergency in Kristiansand doesn't look anything like the one in Oslo - there is only one patient waiting before us. E. picks up a number and we take a seat waiting for our time to register. The peacefulness of the staff is in the air just like in Oslo, though. Also like in Oslo, nobody seems to hurry here. Although there is no queue, we have to wait for about half an hour to be registered. The registering lady keeps on walking in and out, giving us a smile every time she passes by.

Finally our number is on the screen. The lady speaks good English, and the registration process runs smoothly. She says that I probably have a conjunctivitis, and, yes, no doctor told me a better diagnosis that day.

I am pondering that in my experience the word "emergency" has some other meaning than the one in Norwegian hospitals. Even though I am the only patient, we still have to wait for another ~20 minutes after registration. I see the doctor passing by several times during the wait. This doctor is only unusual in a sense that he doesn't smile.

Finally I am invited to the doctor's office. Here my time is not waisted at all as the consultation lasts for no more than 3 minutes... I am surprised that the doctor does not look at my eye at all. He is just typing what I tell about my condition and gives me a prescription for medicine when I am finished.

I remember from Oslo times that one has to pay for doctor's consultations in Norway. However, the doctor doesn't give me any bill, and I assume he has been kind enough not to charge me for 3 minutes of his time. Therefore, after some struggle with the door, E. and I leave the hospital. But here the same doctor comes chasing us and tells rudely in Norwegian: "Det er ikke gratis sykehus!" (This is not a free hospital!). So we come back and I pay 130 NOK for my 3 minute monologue at the doctor's office.



When we go to the pharmacy, it is celebrating a non-smoking day. Norwegians really seem to like their creme cake (bløtkake) as they have it on every occasion I have seen. The non-smoking day in the pharmacy is not an exception. Anyway, I get the medicines quickly, and my meeting with Norwegian health system is over for today.


Second trip to the hospital: Will's initiation to the vikings

It so happened that during a hike in Lysefjord Will stepped on a slippery patch and fell bruising his nose and lip. We washed the wound with some raspberry flavoured mineral water, put a plaster and Will was able to finish the trip. However, when he looked into the mirror back home, Will relized that the bruise looked worse than he thought.

I am in my room chatting on skype with my parents when E. calls. She sounds quite scared and asks if I could go to the hospital together with Will. E. has called a taxi already and is worried because Will hasn't answered her last call. Quickly I end my conversations both with parents and E., find Will in his room and we go to a taxi together.

The taxi driver is friendly - he asks what we are doing in Kristiansand and wishes Will good luck with his nose. But the friendliest place in Kristiansand is the one he brings us to - the hospital. Knowing the system already, I pick up the number and we take a seat in the waiting room. The registering lady is smiling at us from the distance. Like the last time, only one person is waiting before us in a queue.

Only about half an hour later, though, this person is invited to see the doctor. In the meantime we are still waiting to register. It seems that there is something wrong with the computers in the registering office. The nurses are gathering there, checking the coputer, calling somebody. However, there is plenty of women laughter in the registering office as well. The staff is clearly in a good mood.

00.40 AM and we are still waiting. In the meantime more patients gather in the waiting room. You can see that these are the "night patients": a woman in "going-out" outfit and her boyfriend, keeping a hand on his stomach; three men, one of which has a wounded fist; two young women dressed in nearly pyjamas. There also comes a family of Middle Eastern descent with a baby. It seems that his mother has some kind of problem, though.

Finally Will is asked to register. The lady smilingly informs us that it is too late to do the stiches now as the accident happened about 12 hours ago. Nevertheless, the wound will be looked at, so after registration we continue waiting. Killing time, I have been reading a Norwegian children's book, but now decide to watch the TV. However, the programme is extremely boring to me as it is on probably the most "overplayed" topic - the US and Iraq. It is more interesting to watch how the Middle Eastern family watches the same programme with great attention, especially the elderly woman (probably the grandmother of the baby).

Everybody is killing time in their own way: the girls in pyjamas go out for a cigarette, Will is reading a book on his iPhone. On another TV screen I notice a slideshow about the rules of the hospital. I write down the taxi number (we will need it later) and inform Will that doctor's consultation at night is twice as expensive as at daytime - it costs 250 NOK. The information also says that emergencies are divided into three levels, therefore patients shouldn't be surprised if the ones who come later get to see the doctor first.

We are obviously not the top priority according to this allocation of patients. The family is asked to the doctor's office before us and so is the man with the wounded fist. The information slideshow in three different languages (Norwegian, English and German) runs in front of my eyes at least five times. We hear the nurse calling "William" at around 1.30, an hour and a half after we arrived.

The personell which looks after Will is really caring and nice. Two nurses talk to both of us (in perfect English) about our experiences in Norway, about the hike that we went to, about what we saw. At the same time they clean and desinfect Will's wounds carefully. It seems painful, but Will is delighted by the beauty of one of the nurses (she is a slim blond with a very pleasant smile), so he takes the pain very well. The nurses discuss for a while if the wounds should be stitched but then decide that they are quite shallow and will heal naturally. Eventually, some plaster is put and the nurses let us go. Will asks for some extra plaster if the one he has falls off. The nurses gladly give it to him.

"Now it is the payback time,- I tell Will when the procedures are over." We go back to the registration office, ready to get rid of 250 NOK. However, we are only asked for 50 NOK and that pleasantly surprises us. It appears that we only have to pay for the procedure because Will did not get a doctor's consultation - he was looked after by nurses.

Glad about the saving we call a cab to go home. The driver that arrives does not speak English and I get an opportunity to speak Norwegian. Yes, personally I like Norwegians who don't speak English because they let me practise the language I want to learn. So, thanks to the taxi driver and me understanding each other, we reach our beds at 2 AM. It has been a very log day...

CONTINUE READING...

We've conquered it all - to the edge

Žiūrėti didesnį žemėlapio vaizdą
This story definitely requires pictures, but all the cameras we have just went wrong today, although for different reasons. So I will try to make photos with words, and come back to the place later for actual pictures.

I have been hearing about this Oderøya for a while. Supposedly it is a big island, accessible (like seemingly everything in Kristiansand...) directly from the city centre. In summer the main stage for Quart festival is here. Other things I heard were simply "beautiful", "haven't you been there yet?", "I can show you", "You must go there."

Yesterday I counted the days still left here, and decided - tomorrow, regardless of the weather, I have to see Oderøya.


And the weather was very "English" today - sun and rain took each other's place every 15 minutes, and sometimes they "worked" together. The wind was always there - as a background for them both.

When we leave home, the clouds look a tad frightening, but we refuse to retreat. Despite this dedication, drizzling becomes quite a serious rain in a few minutes. Luckily, we find ourselves close to a cosy coffee shop, which I. showed to us the other day. This is the only take-away coffee shop we have so far seen in Kristiansand. It is called Laura's, but we call it the "Norwegian Starbucks."

It's time to finally have some "not office" coffee and both Will and I go for a nice cup of latte. Is it the coffee itself or the fact that I haven't had it in a while, but the latte tastes marvelious. At that moment I would have said - better than Starbucks. The way the cup looks like is new to me - it has a "sleeve" already integrated, no need to put one on. For me it is one of these simple, but genius Scandinavian inventions - like, for example, separate compartments for different coins in a bus.

The coffee shop seems to be a meeting point for foreigners in Kristiansand. The hostess (Laura?) seems to be a foreigner herself as she speaks English not only to me and Will, but also to her staff. At one of the tables I hear people speaking Spanish while a lady next to me is reading some "New York Times bestseller".

The rain predictably stops soon, and we continue our quest of conquering Oderøya. So far all is well known already - the boat "parking", the swans, the little beach. The old wooden boats are the most beautiful, and both Will and I agree that it would be great to own one. However, the huge boat-houses look impressive in their own way. Through the window I see plates neatly put together in the boat-kitchen and wonder how long I could live in such a "house."

But here we come to the bridge, which we haven't crossed before. "Keep left, - were E.'s directions to us." Hmmm, we do, but there are no signs showing that Oderøya is a popular tourist area. We don't meet any other people, we follow a narrow path and go along a row of some boat warehouses. I am nearly sure that this is the wrong way, and that the path will finally become so narrow that we will face a close.

However - here we go - behind the warehouses we find a map of Oderøya and realize that we are already there. I am still surprised that the entrance was nearly secretive... or maybe we didn't find the main one?

We try to go along what seems to be the main path, but often give it up for left and right. The main path goes up and we are soon exposed to the first amazing view - the panorama of Kristiansand, surrounded by the open sea. The view from this side of the town is so much nicer than the ones I saw before. The parts with concrete buildings do not catch one's eye from here, but the white and red houses going up the hill as well as the harbour.

That was a glance to the left and now it's time to check what's on the right side. Here we are tempted by the patch of grass, which finishes with sand and, obviously, the sea. A group of ducks peacefully sleeping far on the shore suggests that people don't walk here often. The ducks seem a bit alarmed seeing us, but peace is restored quicly. If you turn back in this little beach, there are some cars and a concrete building, which reveals that civilisation is close. But if you look forward - it seems that we are the first ones who ever found this wonderful place. Ducks sleeping peacefully on the side, swans floating close to the shore and rocky gates to the sea in front of our eyes. Here it also becomes clear that the camera is not going to work today, so we start the ritual of photographing every beautiful place with eyes for no shorter time than twenty minutes.

Back to the "main" road and up up up. Then a bit down. Here we reach the Oderøya stadium and decide that this seems like a perfect place for the Quart stage. There is a grassy hill in front of it, which we think should be comfortable for attenders to sit. The whole place looks quite small though, so finally we remain puzzled if it is the one.

Although Oderøya looks quite uncultivated, "sublime" place, we see tables and benches for picnics put in the spots with great views. Sometimes (often) this means right on the rocks and even looks a bit dangerous. I tell Will that the only drawback of picnics here would be not enough space for dancing (danger to fall down seems real enough). Will thinks that the tables are more suitable for romantic dinners than wild parties. I have to agree with him and actually during the whole "hike" the idea is persistent that Kristiansand is a wonderful town for romantic dates. In six weeks I already saw so many beautiful places which are never packed with people. You turn back and sometimes see someone running or cycling by. But if you look forward - you find yourself standing on the rocks and looking at the openness of a lake or a sea, with only some birds there to keep you company.

In addition to the tables, another sign of civilisation are houses here and there, sometimes in completely unexpected places. The thing about Norway is that you go somewhere so "sublime" that it seems you just found a new land. And here you go - there is already a table or even a house waiting for you. Slightly disappointing, but can be convenient, I guess... According to my Norwegian knowledge, the houses we found on Oderøya can be rented for special occasions. One of them (the one at the very edge of the island) looked like a cafe, but the working hours are probably very specific.

Like many natural parks in Kristiansand, Oderøya previously was some kind of a military base. (Why do they have so many military bases if they didn't actually go to war?) On one turn to the left we find this abandoned military building and decide to explore it from inside. When the eyes get used to the dark, we notice the stairs. Up - and we get outside - on a rock with another amazing view of an open sea.

It is surprising that these seemingly abandoned places on Oderøya are so clean. Where I come from, even if you go really deep into a forest, the "signs of civilisation" (bottles, cigarettes, packages) are here and there. In the abandoned military building you would definetely smell some "human signs" and face a danger to step into specific remains... Actually, I wouldn't even dare to explore a building like that being afraid to meet some "inhabitants."

It is unusual for me to see that even in the tallest grass or thickest bushes on Oderøya there is no trace of rubbish. And the abandoned military building doesn't smell of anything else but forest. Unsurprisingly already, there is yet one more "romantic" table on the roof of another military building. I don't even see the way to get there! But this table certainly guarantees one of the best views to the sea...

The rocks and the cliffs are completely left for the public's exploration on Oderøya. There are no barriers, no handles to hold, not even signs of possible danger as I am sure would be, for example, in England. I enjoy the "wildness" of Oderøya, but, especially after the cautious England, I can see a possible danger in many steps I take. I also can't watch children running to the very edge at the harbour - there are no borders as well. It seems that Norwegian authorities assume that the public is responsible for their own safety. It is interesting to see how the level of independent judgement allowed in different countries varies.

When we come back from the "hike" and I check the map, I realize that we have walked along the very side of the island. The main and, I guess, the more "civilized" part was left unseen. Even though we got to the very edge, we couldn't touch the sea (as planned), because the shore was too rocky to climb down. So I am defininetely coming back - to touch the sea, to see the rest and to take pictures.

CONTINUE READING...

I am walking in sunshine (after working)

Yesterday it was a sunny break between rainy days in Kristiansand, and I headed downtown to say "hello" to the sea.

On my way I see traffic jams for the first time here. This must be because I finally learned to leave work at 3.30 PM, like many Norwegians do. I am surprised how lively the city is at 4-5 PM. Many people are sitting in the sun eating Kroneis, which was half-price(only 10 NOK)yesterday. The benches are all occupied, and the cafes are packed as well. From where I go, the only strangely "dying" place seems to be H&M, which for some reason is removing clothes from the shelves and packing them into boxes.

There is a lot of action going on at the seaside. Loud music tempts me to come closer, and I see nearly 100 people in lycra jumping around someone, who looks like a coach. From the posters next to them it appears that this is a free summer training, organised in Kristiansand by Friskis&Svettis for 10 years already. The training takes place every Monday and Thursday at 7 PM, regardless of the weather. It seems really fun, especially in the sunshine, so I plan to join next time for some "participatory observation." An interesting fact, though, is that an absolute majority of participants are women. In addition to the coach, there is only one extra man taking part.

Maybe men in Kristiansand prefer more independent physical activities? I come up to such a hypothesis when I see around 10 young men playing frisbee on another green patch. Hmm... probably the independent men are the ones I should join after all?

There are many more people at the seaside, who are not doing sports, but just hanging out together, talking, smoking, or having barbecues. Feeling quite hungry, I move further from these ones.

I sit on the stairs leading to the sea, and start looking through a free magazine I picked up in one shop. It is called Absolutt and claims to be about culture. The main topic of this issue is that Kristiansand is a city of possibilities, and that everything is getting better and better here. Decide to check what's on in the coming weeks, but when I get to the section, it appears that the magazine is for the months of February, March and April... It feels annoying to find out that the information you are looking at is out of date already.

Distributing a magazine about city's cultural life seems a good idea to me. Both local people and newcomers can pick it up and have a brief introduction of what's going on. However, it seems essential to keep information up to date. What is more, the magazine is only in Norwegian, which seems very tourist-unfriendly.

After ten minutes of sitting in one place I find myself surrounded by four kinds of birds: swans, seagulls, sparrows and pigeons. Not only I don't have any food for them, but I am starving myself. Time to leave the sunshine and get some dinner.

On the way home I have to pass Shalams Brukthandel and, as I already wrote before, you can buy the most amazing things in that shop. This time in the window I see a statuette of a dead seagull! I can't believe my own eyes, so I have to stop and look more closely. No doubt! It is laying on its back, the wings are spread and the legs are convulsively pressed to the stomach. Only 45 NOK - if interested, it may still be there today.


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Social and other encounters of the first week

It is difficult to create a social circle when you stay in a place for only six weeks. However, we were lucky to meet work colleagues, who accepted and welcomed us warmly from the very first day. Although I expected good relations with people before coming here, such an eager acceptance was, I have to admit, surprising to me. I didn’t expect that good colleagues not only create a pleasant working environment for each other, but also are friends outside work.

The dinner with work colleagues

Already on the second day of our visit we are invited for a dinner at K.’s house. The dinner is organized for the occasion of Professor J.F. visiting Agderforskning. We drive with E.’s car, and when I realize we are going to pick up the professor on our way, I decide that I should give him the front seat of the car. However, E. assures me this isn’t a problem. Not only the professor doesn’t mind sitting on the back seat of the car, but he also shows genuine interest in us, student-trainees, asking about our background and reasons for coming to Kristiansand. He tells us we have come to Norway just on the right time to see the weather getting only better and to observe a peculiar Norwegian tradition – celebration of the 17th of May (Norway’s national day). The professor lets us understand there is a diversity of opinions about Norwegian way of celebrating their day, especially among Norway’s neighbors Swedes and Danes (J.F. is himself Swedish).

When I notice the car going up the steep hill, I realize we are not in the city centre anymore, and the surroundings looks a bit “wild” (nature-wise). We reach the house, and I can only say “wow” about the view right from the yard. The house is on the edge of something in between a hill and a cliff, and the view of mountains and forests, with no other houses in sight, opens to my eyes.

On entering the house, I notice a pile of shoes at the entrance. When E., followed by Will and the professor, gets rid of her shoes, I realize there is a difference between guest rules in England and in Norway. In England nobody takes off their shoes, which becomes even stranger knowing there is a carpet everywhere in the house, with the exception of only kitchen and bathroom. I am not wearing socks, therefore taking off the shoes is a cool experience for me. However, for this I can only blame myself for taking over too many British traditions. In Lithuania we both wear socks and take off the shoes straight after entering the house.

“I would like to live here, - is the second thing I say after getting off the car.” The house is very bright and spacious. The walls are white and, most importantly, there are huge windows to see the exactly same view of mountains and forests one can see from outside. The fair wooden floor is all around the house, and there are no traces of carpet. In fact, the wooden floor and the brightness of the house coincide with my imagination of how typical Scandinavian houses look like. When I was in Oslo, I got this impression from the houses presented in Folk Museum as well as from what I saw looking inside through the curtain-less windows around the city. However, a view of nature matched my image of little houses in the fjords more than the image of a typical city house.

We are enjoying a glass of wine together while waiting for two more people to join our company. When S. and P. from the Centre of Experience Economy in the Business School arrive, our group becomes even more international. The Swedish professor, Lithuanian and English trainees are joined by a Dane and one more Swede. One reason why I find it useful to learn one of the Scandinavian languages is that by learning it you actually get “3 in 1”. It is inspiring to see how Norwegians, Swedes and Danes understand each other, although all of them are speaking their own languages. Despite that, Scandinavian languages are not the languages of the evening as everybody puts effort to keep conversation going in English, even when Will and me are more listening than speaking.

When the eating part started, there was not much conversation, because the food appeared to be very tasty. One thing I am not used to is sending each dish around the table. In my previous experience, the dish would be passed to the person only when asked for. However, I find the new way of sharing both creating a bond between people and very convenient. You can just fill your plate with everything you want at once.

When everybody is more or less full, intelligent conversations starts. P. says that he has studied soviet concrete architecture and tries to convince me that it is not as worthless as it seems to me, having lived in one of these “masterpieces”. S., meanwhile, introduces us to her ethnographic studies of backpacking and romantic love. It feels very good to be part of this intelligent company, and to be treated equally here. Moreover, it seems fascinating and all new to me that people spend their lives researching such exciting subjects, and actually earn money from it. From where I come from, the attitude to research is still more practical – a good scholar should bring some “tangible” benefit to society. “You truly live in a post-materialistic world now, - states my Lithuanian friend, when I tell him about my experience in Norway.” I could not agree with him more, and I actually prefer this world so much more to the materialistic one. Being able to have an intelligent conversations with people around me makes a big part of my job satisfaction.

In the course of the evening, the atmosphere loosens even more, and from academic subjects we move to joking and planning trips together. S. invites us all to come to her postdoctorate award ceremony in Lund, and we are planning a boat trip. Again I am surprised that Will and me are accepted to the “planning committee” only a few hours after meeting S.

The professor has to leave early, but his place at the table isn’t empty for a long time as D., one more colleague from Creative Industries team, joins us. If previously conversation at the table was more or less divided in groups, D’s stories involve everybody. He tells funny experiences from his years of organizing Quart festival and encounters with famous artists. At this point we have to call off the taxi for at least one more hour, because the evening has clearly reached its peak. From memories about Quart, our colleagues then go onto a more general discussion about cultural life and the practice of cultural policy in Kristiansand. I am overwhelmed by all the layers and issues which Will and me had known nothing about. There is clearly enough material to investigate in the coming weeks here.

The afternoon on “the edge of the world”

On Friday of the first week we are promised to spend the day with S. and P. from the Business School. They are supposed to take us to the best bars as well as the Art museum and other attractive places in Kristiansand. I am looking forward to this day, already knowing S. and P. from the dinner and trusting that they will indeed show us all the best this town has to offer.

Friday appears to be hectic both in Agderforskning and in Business School; therefore the meeting is put off to 3 PM instead of 1 PM. Like to many places in the first week, we are brought to the Business School with E.’s car - a consequence of us getting lost on our way to work the very first day. The area, in which we find the Business School, is full of ongoing construction work. The Business School itself seems to be a new building. The interior is neat and spacious, with wooden doors and dominating colors of white, blue and beige. It more or less matches the image I have of a typical new building, which tries to look serious.

A completely different interior is there, when we climb upstairs to the Experience Economy Centre. Against the wall there stands a bright green cupboard with a stuffed seagull on the top of it. Orange armchairs and a collection of old lamps also can’t remain unnoticed. The walls are decorated with colorful surrealistic paintings.

When E. leaves us, we make some tea into very expensive Business School cups, and S. explains the ideas behind the design of the Centre. When S. and P. got a job here, they were located in an empty corner of the Business School and given 30 000 NOK to decorate it. Both the amount of money and the ideas they had about recycling lead S. and P. to unusual solutions in design. They wanted to show how old and boring things can be put into new life, when placed in a different context from the one they belonged before.

Most of the things in the Centre are bought in second hand shops. The cupboard, for example, represents a cheap cupboard model from IKEA, which was owned by nearly every Scandinavian family in the 1970s. It was P.’s idea to paint it neon green. The seagull on the top, meanwhile, is a representative of a huge population of seagulls in Kristiansand. I often tell my friends that these birds rule the city. S. puts the same phenomena in other words: “Every single morning seagulls make a party in front of my house.”

The orange armchairs and old lamps turned up at the Centre in the same way as the cupboard – they were bought from second hand shops. S. shows us another piece of decoration – a cross stitched pillow with a typical idyllic picture - a red Norwegian house in the woods. S. speaks about the mismatch between the extremely low price of such a thing and the amount of hours some woman spent decorating it. She tells us about an artist, who, protesting against this kind of women exploitation, stitches a pornographic image in some corner of the idyllic picture. S. and P. discusses if they shouldn’t have their little pillow “upgraded” in this way.

I might have wondered for a while how these ideas relate to experience economy, but that is the next thing S. and P. talk about. Kristiansand used to be an important port, airport and known for its wood industry. “Now it is the edge of the world, - S says.” Kristiansand is in an identity crisis now that its industrial importance is gone. Experience economy is determined to let people like the city and want to stay here for the experiences they get, but, according to S. and P., city’s new attractive identity should be built on the old one. The identity should be recycled. I find myself agreeing with this, thinking about Lithuania’s image strategy, which is not a success, because it is a “top-down” process and people do not identify themselves with what is offered to them. The identity is being forced instead of extracting it from something which has evolved naturally through time.

We are running late for the Art museum, but there is one more thing S. and P. want to show us in the Centre. It is their own little museum – a collection of kitsch souvenirs brought by Kristiansandians from their journeys abroad. The things which in themselves do not have artistic or historical value are put behind the glass together with little cards presenting them. This museum is yet another example of recycling – putting things in a different context and seeing what comes out of it.

What I make of this “recycled” design of the Experience Economy Centre is a manifestation of imagination and playfulness. Things are taken not too seriously, and “sacred” concepts (for example, “a museum”) are played with. This creates a relaxed atmosphere, a kind of non-judgemental mood of the place, which makes you want to stick around, to stay longer. Maybe students of the Business School also feel that, when, according to S., they gladly come to spend their breaks in the Centre? S. and P. makes me wonder - is new always better? Or is it that what matters is how we present things, how we put them together, what stories we give to them? Inspired by S. and P.’s ideas, I might consider buying an old boring cupboard from the Soviet times (the choice of furniture in these days was “one from one”), painting it in neon color and putting it in my home, when I have one.

The way to the Art Museum leads through a block of newly built glass and steel houses along the river. P. is sceptical about these architectural decisions, but for me the river and the “parked” boats, outnumbering the cars, still make the area somewhat romantic.

Already in the city center we enter a very different area – idyllic white wooden houses are there, with blue doors and blooming cherry trees next to them. S. tells us these are the oldest, the most “Norwegian” and the most expensive houses in the city. They are preserved, however, only because earlier that was a cheap solution for working classes to live. The ideas about recycling once more pop into my head – what was once cheap and boring, becomes historical, beautiful and expensive in another context.

On our way to the Museum S. also speaks about the role of religion in Kristiansand, and that Southern Norway is the most religious part of this country. A huge proportion of land is still owned by the church, which might be one of the reasons of the “quietness” of this town. Not every concert is approved by the owners of the land… We laugh at the double-edged meaning of the church standing right in the middle of the town: “it is for all those who are lost and looking for their way.”

S. and P. introduce Will and me to two local artists we meet at the entrance of the Art Museum. They tell us there is an exhibition opening going on at the moment, for which one of the artists has created sound installations. After a quick chat, during which we are updated on more upcoming events at the Art Museum, we rush to the opening to grab the last two remaining glasses of champagne. I am thinking about how close-knit certain groups of people in Kristiansand are. It seems that if you get to know the Creative Industries researchers, you will soon be introduced to academics, artists, local pop and rock musicians (I – and you – will meet them in the next blog post)… As Will has noticed, we feel better integrated into the local community after 5 days in Kristiansand than after the whole time at Warwick.

The exhibition itself is called “100% Natural” and is on the topic of ecology, consisting of pictures, video-projections and installations. S. explains us about the great meaning of nature for Norwegians and how proud they are of their nature. Beliefs about supernatural creatures and spirits inhabiting nature are still alive as well.

The permanent exhibition upstairs seems to be a continuation of this topic, in a sense. The first room we enter represents Norwegian “national” painting tradition, and – surprise surprise – most of the paintings depict local nature views. As an art historian, P. explains us the difference between the “sublime” nature and “idyllic” nature, the sublime nature being powerful, overwhelming, wild and uncultivated in contrast to idyllic views, where you just want to lay on the cut grass and have breakfast. Both of these types can be found in Norway and are represented in the paintings.

The room itself, according to P., is built-up in a fashion of a 19th century saloon. The paintings are hung very close to each other on red walls. They are all in fancy frames and seem to be put together in a random manner. P., however, explains that in saloons the order was by no means random, with owner’s favorite paintings being put comfortably on eye-level, while you had to bend down to see the least favorite ones. What I lack in this saloon-type room, are the labels. As a foreigner, not knowing Norwegian art by heart, I am interested from what time period each painting is are and who painted it. However, these details don’t seem to be considered important in the chaos of a saloon-type room.

We run through the other halls rather quickly as the Museum it is about to close now. Mostly contemporary Norwegian and foreign art is on display, so the Museum largely reminds me of any other contemporary art museum I have seen. Instead of “saloon-type” rooms, we now enter one “white cube” after the other. To my pleasant surprise, there are now labels with information about every work of art, and not only in Norwegian, but in English as well. We stop for a longer while at P’s personal favorite work, which is, by the way, made by one of the artists we just met at the entrance of the museum. It is a very small and precise work from multiple layers of graphite. I am again fascinated how connected and close-knit things are in Kristiansand. You get introduced to a women you accidentally meet, and in an hour you are introduced to one of the best art works in Art museum, which appears to be hers.

Enough of art for today – we deserve to see some nature. And this is one amazing thing about Norway, which I learned already being in Oslo two years ago: you can reach beautiful (and sublime!) nature from any part of the city in less than 5 minutes time. Kristiansand seems to be no exception here. Just behind a big H&M, which probably marks the boundary of the city centre, we find a skateboarding and beach volleyball area, behind which – a green hill. We go up – and yeah – one lake, then the other. People are jogging around the lakes, taking their dogs for a walk, or having barbecues. This area is called Banheia, once developed for military reasons, and now used as a recreational area. Banheia immediately becomes my favorite spot in Kristiansand.

From the very top of the hill we see a panoramic view of Kristiansand, which, to tell the truth, is far from idyllic. It is a city of many faces, some of them being picture-perfect, and others – not really causing admiration. From the top you can see the idyllic wooden houses, the sea, the islands, the river Otra running through the town, but as well you are exposed to construction works, to glass and steel, to “concrete jungle” and a huge concrete prison rising above this all, looking somewhat frightening. According to S., the view prisoners get of Kristiansand is just as panoramic as the one from the top of the hill.

After art and nature – the time has finally come to visit the bars. We head to Frk. Larsen, which, according to S. and P., is one of maybe two cafes in town, where one can get not only drinks, but also food for reasonable (in Norwegian standards) prices. When we sit down and check the menu, however, it is still difficult to put up with the fact that a burger costs 135 NOK. Even though, according to S., it is a very good, homemade burger, it is still a BURGER! The cheapest food on the menu is a jacket potato, and I decide to go for it. We order (three burgers and a jacket potato), but S. warns us: we will have to wait for a loooong time. “You can’t be in a hurry, if you order something in Kristiansand, - she adds.”

Although we are hungry, the waiting is quite pleasant as we are sipping the local beer, and E. joins us in the meantime. When the food finally arrives I am not disappointed at all. The jacket potato is delicious, and it is a right amount of food to make me full. From what I see, the famous burger also looks good, but I don’t change my opinion that it is way too expensive. Maybe I should have tasted it?
Our circle of acquaintances becomes even wider when after meal we are joined by A.C. (another colleague from Agderforskning) and her friend I. I. sits next to me and lets me practise my Norwegian with her. It is much easier to understand the language when somebody speaks to you rather than when you are trying to catch the meaning of other people’s conversations.

As we drink one more and one more beer, Frk. Larsen becomes busier and busier. After all, it’s Friday night tonight. A live music band starts unpacking their instruments. There is no stage in Frk. Larsen, so the band moves some tables and settle in the corner. It seems to be a common practise in Kristiansand, as the town is known for not having a stage for gigs at all.

Another common practise in Ksand is already having had two beers, seeing bars all busy and bands playing while it is still light outside. On the one hand, you can blame the nature as Norwegian nights become very light in summer. On the other hand, Southern Norway is the part of Norway least affected by this… The main thing is that people just go out early here. And they are forced to, as, according to Government regulations, all bars and pubs have to close before 2 am. Not to mention the fact, that you can’t buy alcohol in any shop after 8 pm.

The head starts spinning in the busy Frk. Larsen and our group decides to check other pubs in town. I, however, feel tired after a long day and decide to head home. 15 minutes on foot from the busiest spot in the city centre, and I am back in the peaceful Kongsgård alle. It is still light outside.

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When all the plans fall apart… there is still a lot happening

Forced out of a very deep sleep by my alarm clock, I started recalling that there were quite a few plans waiting for me today. I was determined to find a Lithuanian Consulate in order to vote in Lithuanian Presidential elections. Later we had arranged to meet with Will and go to the Dyreparken together.

It was difficult to find information about it in English, but Emma insisted that Dyreparken was the best zoo in Europe. You can see animals in their natural surroundings as well as have fun in the theme park. I was quite excited as I expected to see something different from any zoo I’ve been to before. Despite this, I was suspicious that entertainment in the theme park might appeal more to children than to “young professionals.” After coming back from the park, Will and me were planning to go out with some international students we met several days before. We had prepared to interview the students about their experiences and attitudes towards Kristiansand.

Although the day promised to be busy and exciting, all the plans fell apart one after the other. Already before leaving home, I got a message from one of our new acquaintances (international students) saying that they were busy studying for exams and could not go out tonight. Despite a slight disappointment, I had to go on, starting with the “voting odyssey.”

I was curious about the voting process while being abroad. I had never tried this before. It was at all surprising to find out there was a Lithuanian Honorary Consul as well as the possibility to vote in Kristiansand, which was so far away from the capital of Norway. After reaching Østre Strandgate I realized this was a peaceful street with mostly flats and was a bit anxious that the address I had was probably a flat and I would have to ring the doorbell only to see an annoyed man with a robe as I had just woke him up. I imagined casting my vote after following the Consul to his cabinet in a spacious and luxurious two-storey flat. I was also wondering if the Consul speaks Lithuanian because his name and surname was Norwegian. I was very curious why this Norwegian man is the Honorary Consul for Lithuania and what relations he has with my home country.

46 Østre Strandgate clearly wasn’t a flat, but the labels on the door did not say anything about this person’s diplomatic status either. Instead, he seemed to be a Norwegian businessman as the labels informed: “Mosvold & Co” and “Mosvold Maritime AS.” Nevertheless, I entered (a spacious, luxurious, two-storey, but office – not flat) and told the secretary that as a Lithuanian citizen I would like to cast my vote in Presidential elections. The secretary was polite, but she didn’t know such election was going on, neither she knew where Mr. Mosvold was and when he was going to come back. “He is a kind of person who comes and goes, - the secretary told me.” Then she gave me Mr. Mosvold’s telephone number and advised calling before coming again. It seems that voting abroad becomes a very personal, eye-to-eye experience. You actually have to arrange a meeting with a diplomatic representative in order to vote!

After leaving the Consulate, there still was one hour left until meeting with Will. I decided to take a look at Shalams Brukthandel (a second-hand shop) as yesterday some French students told me one could get a bike there for only 300 NOK. Getting into a shop was not easy as I had to maneuver around a man washing the pavement with a garden hose and not paying attention to the passers-by.

Shalams Brukthandel didn’t have any bikes, but I had to check the whole shop to be sure about it. My attention was caught by clothes which were not only second hand, but also really old, possibly from the 1970s or 1980s. They were different from clothes in Lithuanian second hand shops, where one can find quite fashionable items. They were also different from the ones in English second hand shops, which offer funky clothes from the 1970s. The clothes at Shalams Brukthandel were both old and dull. I went upstairs and found some (not many) items of furniture, mainly beds and trunks, as well as several very plain table lamps. A well dressed woman next to me was choosing one of the lamps, and I was wondering what prevents her from buying a new one.

Back downstairs I thought that this shop was a good place for students to buy cutlery as you can find a whole set of plates and cups for as little as 60 NOK. Other things which attracted my attention were an old cookie tin for 10 NOK, a decent looking HP printer-scaner for 150 NOK, an old computer monitor, CDs with hand written labels as well as a stained Norwegian flag. Lastly, I turned to the book section trying to choose a book for practising Norwegian. However, wasn't sure which authors were good. Many books seemed to be detective stories or love novels, after all.

At the exit of the shop there was the man with the hose again. After successful maneuvering, I headed towards McDonalds, where I was supposed to meet Will. On the way a children’s hairdressing saloon at Dronningens Gate attracted my attention. It had a very weird picture on the window, portraying a creature with a dog’s head and a well trained man’s body. When I glanced inside the saloon, there were pink imitations of motorbikes instead of seats.

Still some time left until the meeting, and I am feeling thirsty. Seven Eleven surely has some water. However, Imsdal seems to be the only choice. There were no prices attached and the bottle looked a bit posh. However, I assumed that water cannot be too expensive, and, after all, I needed it. I also felt like ice cream and grabbed Kroneis with strawberry jam. The salesman addressed me with a long sentence in Norwegian, which I did not understand. “Not too much Norwegian, - I told him.” The young man smiled widely showing his white teeth shining out of a tanned face and asked 23 NOK for the water and 20 NOK for the ice cream. “Have a good day! - he wished me.” “This must be some kind of royal water, - I thought.”

Will should have already been at McDonald’s by now, but he wasn’t. I wanted him to feel a bit jealous about my ice cream, so I was eating it very slowly hoping he will find me like this. However, Will was so late that, despite my best efforts, the ice cream was gone by the time he came. I told Will about the picnic I attended yesterday with the French students while we were heading towards the bus station hoping to get to the Dyreparken from there.

The information lady in the station was not very good in English, but I thought I understood the directions from her body language. Soon we saw a bus stop, from which we spotted our bus leaving. As we had to wait for another one for half an hour, we decided to go to the nearby shop for a snack. Will was complaining about the price of Snickers for a while, but bought a Snickers and a Twix anyway. He also got a bottle of water, which was not Imsdal, therefore a bit less expensive. I myself went for bananas. I knew from experience and told Will this was the cheapest thing you could get in Norway. Will guessed this was because Norwegians didn’t like bananas. The theory was falsified, when a man in front of us in a queue bought bananas as well.

When back at the bus stop, we still had 15-20 minutes to wait. It was already raining and people were squeezing under the roof. There was a young Middle-Eastern-looking man, who was asking for money. Until the bus came, the man had collected money from the passengers, gone away, and come back with an already empty paper cup to ask for money again. Unfortunately, he came back too soon only to find the same people in the bus stop, who, of course, didn’t give him money for the second time. For the first time, though, people donated money quite eagerly, even smiling, which surprised me as it wouldn’t be so easy for beggars to collect money in Lithuania.

While waiting for the bus we also saw the same Russ van passing twice as well as quite a few Russ people going back and forth on foot. I thought that most of the people waiting at the bus stop or passing by did not look very well-off. There were two elderly women, whose clothes, actually, reminded of the ones in Shalams Brukthandel. Nevertheless, they had donated some money for the beggar. There was also a man with jeans and a lycra top, who replied to me in English, when I asked, if it was possible to buy a ticket on the bus. A teenage girl with pink trainers and a pink lock in her blond hair seemed to smile at me, but maybe more at Will.

While waiting for the bus, I was wondering if I should ask the driver in English or in Norwegian how much it costs. When the bus finally came (it was late) and I tried my Norwegian, the driver started speaking very quickly and showing directions. I realized this was no longer about the price. I asked in English if he was actually going to the Dyreparken, and he replied that me and Will had to go to another bus stop to get there.

After waiting in another bus stop for yet another 10 minutes, we saw a bus approaching. The driver was a woman in her 50s with a permanent hairdo. This look reminded me of a certain type of women in Lithuania – they are usually saleswomen, having had their “golden days” in the Soviet times. They are still working now, but, although the times have changed, their attitudes are as permanent as their hairdos. These women are usually very impolite in customer services and, of course, they do not speak English. I told Will, half-jokingly half-seriously, that, in my opinion, this driver was not going to be nice. When we got on the bus, it appeared that the driver’s English indeed was bad, and she did not belong to the “smiling type” of customer service people. It took some time for us to figure out if we were buying a return ticket or two one way tickets.

While on the bus, Will and me realized that all the going to the city centre and looking for the bus was vain. The bus actually passed the street where we live as well as the university. I was also pleasantly surprised to see us going by some beautiful lakes just behind the University area. However, in the meantime, the rain became heavier and heavier. All the passengers got off the bus at the huge shopping centre outside Kristiansand. Will and me were the only ones going to the Dyreparken. When we got off the bus, it was raining heavily, cold, windy, and there was not a single car in the car park. As Will correctly noticed, the field research wouldn’t be of much value if we didn’t actually meet people in the park. That’s how we decided to put it off to some better times.






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About the purpose of this blog

My colleague Will and I are trying to forget that we moved to Kristiansand only for six weeks. Not just because we enjoy staying here, but also because it is part of our research. We are observing the town, especially its cultural life, with the eyes of young professionals who had decided to live and work here. We try to experience as much as this town has to offer and ask ourselves: Does it meet my expectations? Does my experience make me want to stay here? Could I settle down here? Why? Why not?

Trying to answer these questions is a contribution to a project led by Agderforskning, which is the reason we are here now. It is my first attempt to do a field research, therefore I am both excited and aware of possible mistakes. This blog is an exclusive look into my field diary – a thick book full of the smallest details about my daily experience in Kristiansand. I hope it will be a good source of information for both Kristiansand’s guests and those Kristiansandians, who want to look at their town with a “fresh eye”.
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