Summer summary

It’s been a strange summer. Weather-wise, it’s been crappy. Any Norwegian will tell you so. Then again, any Norwegian would tell you that any summer, pretty much, and for the most part we are right. We do have a lot of weather in this country, and most of it isn’t of the nice kind. But even if we’d had a warm, sunny summer (not that we did, mind you), we wouldn’t call it a nice summer. We forget easily, in this country. And one rainy day easily translates to “three weeks straight”. If the weather is one of your main conversation topics (and in Norway, it definitely is), it is, after all, much more interesting to speak of bad weather than sunshine.

But I’m not here to talk about the weather.

The summer has been especially strange for me, I guess. I went from a busy life in Tokyo to the slow-as-ever sleepy small town life in Norway. I went from an exciting, interesting and challenging job where I felt I made a difference, to unemployment and application writing. From feeling useful to completely useless. From being a social butterfly to spending most my time on Facebook (which is not the same thing, no matter how you try to justify it for yourself). I went from having too many plans to handle, to having none at all. As of now, I have vacation for the rest of my life – in theory, at least.

But I’m not here to talk about my unemployment.

Norway in general had a strange summer. On July 22^nd the unthinkable happened. Terrorism. In Norway. 77 people brutally slaughtered down, by one man and his hate. A hate that took us all by surprise, and that we’ve been struggling to understand ever since. Maybe we’re not supposed to understand; maybe we don’t even want to. The debate that surfaced after this ranged from “we need to analyze his manifest to make sure others like him cannot go unnoticed” to “we need to give his ideas less attention to avoid copycats”. Principles of freedom of speech have been discussed. We all agree we need to protect this right, now more than ever, but there are different opinions and interpretations what this right should entail. How much can we allow? How far should anonymous online debates be allowed to go before the danger signals flare?

What made the strongest impression on me in the middle of this, however, wasn’t the stories of the horrors at Utøya. Not the controversy about whether someone like this culprit (whose name I don’t like mentioning, despite Harry Potteresque wisdom of not letting him become another “You-Know-Who”) could have been stopped, and what measures would be an appropriate punishment (nothing, clearly. Nothing is appropriate. So we have to stick to the options already provided in our laws).

No, none of that. What made the strongest impression was how people came together after this. How it suddenly didn’t matter where you were from, what you did, how much money you made. We were all one. We stood by one another and acted a little nicer, spread a little love. The rose sea, spreading across the country. In Oslo there are still roses everywhere, a sad and yet encouraging reminder of what happened. Terrorism and hate was met with democracy and love.

But I’m definitely not here to talk about terrorism.

In current events it’s been a summer mercifully free of cucumbers. (An old expression in Norway – “cucumber news” was when the newspapers during the summer did not have anything real to report on, so they wrote about the cucumber prices.) I suppose there were some cucumbers with the e.coli breakout in Europe early this summer. But apart from that we’ve had nice, proper news. Prime ministers have left their jobs (the Japanese, for instance. Today, in fact, after months of anticipation. In Norway we’re happy because the new guy’s name creates possibilities for puns just as the old one’s did. From “Yes, we Kan” [but he couldn’t] to “Hva nå da, Noda?” [that last one doesn’t make sense in English. Sorry, guys. But knowing Japan, I’m sure there’ll be a new guy with a punnier name within a year]).

In addition the Strauss-Kahn (he couldn’t either) case made nice headlines all summer, Libya and Syria (oh, who am I kidding – the Middle East in general) still ensure that trees are being chopped down to produce paper, and most recently, of course, a little lady called Irene got loads of attention (all jokes aside, hope you’re all safe).

But I’m not here to talk about current events either (and still not the weather).

What am I here to talk about, then?

Frankly, I’m not too sure. I meant to say something meaningful about blogging. Blogging on this blog, specifically. If you think it’s been kind of quiet here lately, you’re absolutely right. If you think that’s caused by irreconcilable differences within the group, you’re absolutely wrong. If you think it’s caused by a slight tendency of burn-out and summer business, you’re closer to the target.

We’ve been blogging approximately five days a week for a little over a year now (we even missed our own bloggiversary, that’s how preoccupied we’ve been!). We’re eight individuals, trying to coordinate across despite living in different countries, time zones, continents. We have different schedules, backgrounds, different ideas about blogging. In a way, I think our diversity is what makes the mix interesting. But it also makes it challenging.

Thus no one complained when a summer vacation was suggested. A vacation that allowed us to take a much-needed break from blogging. In order to not leave the blog hanging over the summer, however (no telling what crazy shenanigans it might have gotten into then), we decided to post once a week. Thus, this summer have seen fewer posts at the BB&B blog, but I think the posts that my dear colleagues put up were more than top quality wise.

Maybe that is why I had such reservations about my own post… What in the world could I write about that would be equally interesting as the previous posts? Trust me, the sleepy small town life doesn’t provide interesting blog fodder…

My solution was to post about our blog schedule. To explain why we took a break, and when we will return to normalcy. But (you thought I was gonna write “I am not here to talk about…” didn’t you?) even if I wanted to be here to talk about that, it is easier said than done.

You see, we haven’t made up our mind! Every now and then, we make some (smallish) changes here on the blog. Like setting up alternative schedules when we tire of our old topics. This is a golden opportunity for doing just that. So, the debate is going in the Burrow. What will we do now?

But I’m not here to reveal any secrets…  

Who-do-I-want-them-to-think-I-am-Friday?

"Hello, this is Cruella!"

"Hi, you're speaking with Cruella."

"This is Cruella - what can I help you with?"

I was rehearsing how to answer the phone the other day. I had also printed out and read a pile of documents, made sure I had a working pen (and an extra one should it suddenly stop working anyway), a glass of water, and a notepad - just in case. I had called friends, coworkers, contacts - everyone and anyone I thought might be useful for me in preparing for a situation many dread: a job interview.

I haven't had many interviews. Most of my jobs I got on a "knowing someone who knows someone"-basis. My current job had an interview - via the phone, since the distance was somewhat far from Oslo to Tokyo for an actual face-to-face meeting. The one I had the other day was also over the phone - for the very same reason. Only now it was the distance Tokyo-Oslo that complicated the process.

The point of a job interview is fairly simple: the employer wants to find out whether you are the right person for the job. Depending on the job, this usually means assessing your qualifications and skills, but also you as a person. Will you fit into the workplace? Will the rest of the team like working with you?

Thus it is important not to take the frequently first asked question - "Can you tell me a little bit about yourself?" - too lightly. I had a coworker test my reaction to this question before the interview, and after giggling, "uhm"-ing and answering plain rubbish, I finally managed to pull together a semi-coherent string of words that explained exactly what he had asked, "a little bit".

I wasn't entirely prepared, though, when during the actual interview my potential employer wanted me to elaborate . He didn't accept my attempt to jump fairly quickly from "me"-mode to "work"-mode, he wanted to hear me explain more about my background (and possibly he also wanted to test my reaction to being forced to go off manuscript on a question every interviewee surely has memorized their lines for.

I think I pulled it off - in fact - I have it on good authority that I made a good impression (not to suggest that this means I got the job - don't know that yet, actually). But it struck me that it was an interesting study in my own wishes and hopes for the kind of person I'd like others to think I am. (I am not saying that this isn't also the person I *am* am. But there are certain sides you are more keen on promoting than others, right?)

When they asked me what I like to do in my spare time, for instance, I found myself deliberately avoiding one thing that might actually have been a benefit rather than a disadvantage. I didn't tell them that I like to write. Writing is actually one of the main skills required for the job. Of course I can refer to my writing in a professional capacity, through both studies and my current job, and that is more relevant anyway. But adding that extra touch - that I am passionate about the written word - might have put me even higher in the qualification pile (and I need all the help I can get there, since they originally wanted someone with background in finance/economics).

Still, I wasn't willing to do it. Partly because I also see problems with this "passion" - the written word can be dangerous, and a blog, for instance, can be an excellent channel for spreading things that have no business being spread. I wouldn't want them to even consider the possibility that I might take the advantage of that.

More importantly, however, my writing is highly personal. I hope to one day have something to share with the world, but until then, the fact that I like to write is exclusive information to only a handful of people (and, you know, anyone with an internet connection who could then be reading this...).

For the rest of them, however, I prefer to have some control over who they think I am.