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.