On a journey...

17th of May. The day the whole of Norway go into the streets to celebrate. Norway's birthday. The day we got our constitution. The 17th of May really is a very special day for Norway. I guess you could say it's Norway's version of the Brazilian carnival, only different. In Brazil the big question every year during the carnival is how many people got killed, and if the numbers are higher or lower than last year (the image transmitted by the media to the world only shows part of what carnival is all about). Thinking about it, it is also similar to the Brazilian 7th of September, but different. It is hard to explain what this day is like. It’s one of those “have to be there” days. And since I hadn’t been in Norway for it since 2000, it was good to be reminded. At 9 am I got into the car and set off to pick up my brother, who had very kindly agreed to come with me to watch the first parade. As I drove along I saw flags (the Norwegian one, in case you wondered), swaying towards...

Tomorrow is the 17th of May. But for any Norwegian, this particular date isn't like any other date in the year, it's the 4th of July of Norway. And this year I am actually here. However, some preparations had to be done to get ready for tomorrow. One was getting my national costume down from the loft. I got it a few days ago and tried it on. It's a wee bit tight, but I think it'll be fine. This evening I ironed (or rather started ironing) the blouse which is hand embroydered and made of linnen (so those of you who have a clue about fabrics, know that linnen is the opposite of no-crease material). And the second part of the preparation was polishing the silver. I tried the "foil-in-hot-water-with-salt" method, but I don't think it worked too well. I did a bit of polishing with toothpaste after that and it looks alright. At the end of the day I'm the only one who will notice the level of polishedness of my silver. I have also got my camera on charging re...

A week after stepping onto Norwegian soil, I got on the plane (yes, I know, not very ”global warming friendly”) heading north to YWAM Grimerud, the main YWAM base here in Norway, and the base I’m sent out from as a missionary. I had some wonderful days there participating in a national prayer conference. The conference was great and with nicely spaced out activities, so I finally managed to slow down the pace of life. It was lovely. I was also really amazed and blessed and overwhelmed by the kindness and love I felt from the people at the base. They have faithfully been standing with me in prayer, but I was really touched by so many of them welcoming me home and asking how I was doing. The time there made me feel so much more positive and excited about what lies ahead also. It seems like nothing is impossible for God, and I felt so safe in the trust that He has good things for me. After a few days there I flew (I am a big climate polluter) back home. Since then my life has been quite ...

Driving here in the small town of Sandnes is drastically different from driving in the big-city Fortaleza. There is no action! Actually there is hardly any traffic. I haven't heard anyone use their horn yet, and when the speed limit is 30 kilometers per hour, then people drive 30 kilometers per hour. Not being a very agressive driver myself, I have become influenced by the mad driving in Brazil. It's irritating when the traffic moves slowly. And there is no excitement when people actually use their signal to tell you which way they're turning, and obey the law. The lack of donkeys, horses, cows, recycling carts, and just people in general, stepping into the road at all times means that driving around actually becomes quite a dull exercise. I am also having to concentrate as I approach pedestrian crossings. We're acutally supposed to stop for pedestrians here (shocking, I know), and so I find myself saying "look out for pedestrians, remember to stop at the crossing...

Finally landed. After a looong journey (including a 2 hour queue to get through security and passport control at São Paulo airport due to a strike) I arrived home on Thursday to snow. Not a white-coated scenery, but big flakes of snow falling from the sky. Obviously I was a wee bit cold in my vest-top and cardigan. It was strange to get home, but lovely to see family again, including my sister-in-law's bump which is soon to be a niece or nephew. Saying goodbye at Fortaleza airport was tearfilled, and to my great amazement I had a whole delegation seeing me off. Boys and staff from the farm and city centre, as well as other friends were there bright and early to see me off, and allow me to give them one last hug. It was very sad, and felt very final. Then I arrived home. On Friday I flew up to Bergen for a lovely celebration of my cousin's 30th Birthday. Then I flew back home on Saturday, and had a 2.5 hour delay of my flight coming back. Quite ironic, after a 28 hour journey wi...

The last day here is almost over. It’s been a surreal day. As heavy rain put a stop to my plan of one last top-up of my tan, I did the obligatory manicure/pedicure and eyebrows at the beauty-salon. I repacked my bag a few times, and now I’m doing some final bits on the computer before that too will be switched off and packed safely into a bag. This evening I went to my favourite (well, since it’s basically the only one in town, there’s not much choice) cafe with some friends which was very nice, and it took my mind off leaving…at least a bit. At 5:30 am tomorrow morning we set off for the airport, where I am sure many tears will be shed as I say a final goodbye. Please pray for my journey and my arrival back home. As excited as I am to see friends and family again that side of the globe, my mind at the moment is focused on those I’ll leave behind here.

It was with real sadness I went to my last Body Combat class here in Fortaleza. As I was boxing and kicking away to special sound effects and well-timed choreography, tears came to my eyes several times as I realized that this is the end of another thing. After the class I got sweaty hugs from the instructor and a few people I’ve gotten to know over the course of the many years I’ve been going there. I was surprised at how heavy I felt at leaving, I guess I am only now realizing how much of a life-line being able to go to my Body Combat classes at the gym regularly has been. I remember at times being so angry at life, situations, people; and thanking God for giving me a place where I could have an outlet for that anger. And I remember other times when I’d be so frustrated, and feel so lost and without routine, I’d thank God for giving me at least one activity which was regular in my week. And I'd thank God for times when I just wanted to be, and not have to be responsible for anyon...