NASA Tweetup: In the beginning April 27, 2011

In the beginning, there was a little place on line called Twitter. It is a little service online that allows people to join and start conversations in 140 characters or less. I let my 2010 students select my name for me in 2010. In 2011, NASA sent out an application to join in a Space Shuttle Launch Tweetup for OV-105 Space Transport System's Endeavours last planned mission.

Having missed the 1990 launch of Discovery with Hubble, and never quite making it back to Florida, I threw my name into the internet-hat-ring and was selected.

Madly throwing plans together, waiting and watching and changing it was a tense few days getting together, not to mention we had state exams those days.

Finally the day arrived, HMS 6th grade Hippos were AWESOME for the TAKS test. They were well prepared and considerate to the other classes around them. Clearning off the desk, leaving plans in place, Mrs. Rosenbusch came in and covered my classes and I zipped home to grab my luggage and run to the airport.

My husband dropped me off in time to check-in, grab Salt Lick, and catch some live band music in the airport. The flight to Dallas was uneventful. Getting off in Dallas the earlier flight to Orlando was boarding, but I made the decision NOT to run two concourses over to make it happen. I just took my time in the airport and moseyed on down the five gates to my new connection to wait.

The flight was full. Five rows up a man wore a cowboy hat on one side and the next aisle a man wore a yamuka. Mostly suits dotted the aisles with a few vacationers sprinkled in the mix. I read the James mystery novel while in flight and flipped through SkyMall looking at objects that I knew would never be as good as the event I was going to.

Landing in Orlando, I grabbed my bag from the overhead, Lars the Hippo from the seat and made my way out the door. I haven't been in MCO in years and I don't remember how long it had been. Making my way toward the main terminal, I called Jeanette who would be my room mate for the trip and more importantly at this time, had a car to get us there.

With my typical direction since, I transversed the airport to the Southwest gates where she had arrived an hour earlier. I passed helpful agents who pointed me in the right direction, a Disney Princess ready for her closeup photo - complete with a sign that said "don't touch", and lots of tired people who unlike me, seemed to have a clue where to go.

Jeanette had made her way to American, I was near Southwest. We stayed on the phone and laughingly met up half way. Going to the vehical she rented, we were greatful it wasn't the 12 passanger van next to it.

The Orlando Avis lot is a bit like the starting ride at one of the many amusement parks in the area. And while we found ourselves laughing, we really weren't terribly amused at the number of "do not enter" signs we kept seeing (complete with the concrete bunkers blocking the way, just in case you can't read the signs).

The GPS system was wonderful. She went beyond normal duty keeping us uptodate on where we needed to go! "Turn right immediatly," she'd insist before we could see the turn, quickly followed by, "merge left. You need to merge left. Please merge left." As if her pleading and whining would allow us to do anything else, if she had eyes she could have seen the long median seperating us from the oncoming traffic we were merging into, nor could she witness the ditch on the right side of the vehical. Our favorite was the number of times she'd say, "traffic conjestion ahead." At 12:30am, the only traffic congestion we were witnessed was the two cars infront of us moving at reasonable speeds apart from each other and us. The closest we came to was the police officer who was running in the middle of the road, with an object in his hand from the other side of the highway.

Finding the street was easy, finding houses on the street was equally as easy. Finding the house we needed, a little more challangeing. After casing the neighborhood street (and deciding the house with the police car in the driveway was not going to be ours), we gave up and called Gene. He came out of the house, and came outside.

Quickly dragging everything in, we moved everything inside, said goodnight and flopped on the twin beds in our room. An hour later we were asleep: content, happy, thrilled, excited, bubbly, and exhausted. It would be another short night of sleep.

July 25, 2010 Svalbard: Leaving Longyearbyen heading out to sea

<---- Julie Costello, North Dakota and the Explorer

Pulling into the dock, we quickly unloaded and grabbed our gear and walked up the plank after we took pictures. The people who had previously been on the Explorer went ahead or stayed behind to watch us. Julie and I ran over to the side of the ship for our photos. We were tickled.

As I placed my foot on the gangway, I wryly thought this was the last time I would touch "real" land in a week. It's not that I didn't expect to touch land on Svalbard, but this represented the end of civilization. After crossing over, I would have no access to t.v., radio, cinema, newspapers, or the ability to just leave if I wanted off. Getting on a plane, I am always aware that in a few hours I will be getting off the plane. This was going to extended summer camp - with adults and lots of cameras. I hurried up the stairs and thought not another thing about what I'd be "missing" over the next week, ready to start the trip.

Julie and I found our bags as sorted by color and thus cabin level. We were informed as we made our way inside near the gallery there had been a change in our room assignments. We were still on the ship, just in a much smaller room. We were bunking with the staff. The ship is divided into three accommodation levels - passengers, staff, crew. We were staff.

Dragging our luggage down the deck flights, we met some of the staff and our most important contact Karen Copeland. Karen was one of the primary naturalist on the trip, but more important she was our go-to girl. Karen walked us to our quarters and explained the change in plan. Opening the door to our room, we laughed and told her it would all be good. She left and we went in. And we laughed. Very, very hard. The room was tiny. Two women, two suitcases, lots of small baggage, two bunks, a table and a chair did not leave much room for the imagination to wander.

As we started to unpack, they announced we'd be leaving Longyearbyen shortly. Grabbing cameras and jackets left the cabin and stopped. The cabin was in the middle of the boat about equal distance from the staircases on either end. Not sure where to go, we picked a direction and ran for the staircase. Once on deck, we chatted about who was going to cast us off if the crew needed to be on board. We didn't see anyway for a crew mate to jump after untying the ropes. The answer came as we watched a guy cast the ropes and wave to us, before going back to his vehicle. We slowly made our way out of port as we watched the man who had untied us, turn on his cab light as he slowly drove back into town. At least we now know that yes, Lonyearbyen had a cab company and he has a second job.

Moving out of the bay, we were told a life jacket safty demonstration would be in the lounge shortly and to bring your life vest with you. We went back to our room to prepare until the call came.

Back in the room we first had to find another life vest as we only had the one. That solved, we started glancing around our home for the next week. We started looking at cabinet space and the minuscule bathroom we were happy for what we had, but started to wonder how this was really going to work. We also figured out this was going to be just like camp. It's a good thing we decided to like each other the night before or this was going to be a very, very long trip. Our window consisted of a porthole a few feet above the water line - at least we'd be able to see the seals (or so we thought). A narrow entrance way had the bathroom on the left hand side and a closet on the right. Next to the closet was a small dresser. Next to the dresser was a table and chair. Next to the table and chair was about two feet of room with pegs on the wall. Then you ran into my pillow and bed that was perpendicular to the hall space. Attached to the wall above were my feet would rest was three small wooden shelves perfect for all my eye drops and other medicinal supplies like toothpaste! Across from the desk/dresser was Julie's bed. Toward the inside wall near her bed, there was another shelf about two feet deep, perfect for sweaters and shirts. Above that was a large wooden panel. Thinking it was more storage space, we greedily opened it up, only to have a third bed and mattress magically appear. We slammed it back shut, hooted with laughter and finished unpacking. (The head of her bed bumped against the bathroom wall.) It was soon apparent the suitcases would not fit under either bed (board blocked most of the room under the beds and the suitcases were too broad), nor would they fit in the closet (we had clothing stashed in there! And the suitcases were too tall). Taking quick stock, the only solution was to get rid of the chair. As it was, we hardly had enough room to stand, we could sit on the beds, the desk space would be much more valuable for our camera bags, jewelery and chargers.

Julie was sweet enough to offer to ditch the chair. It was comical watching her in the hallway with the unwanted chair. Crew would pass and she would say, "excuse me... could you... we don't want this..." and they would be just as confused as to what to do with it. Finally someone offered to take it off her hands and she came back inside the room. We never saw the chair again and I hope someone knows where it was stashed for the next person who gets the room and wonders why they don't have a chair.

We took our life preserves up to the lounge. I kept thinking of the Titanic movies where everyone has gathered in the main room huddled together in their jackets waiting for news. We didn't wait long. Just like the safety measure on the airplane, the safety course explained what to do and how to do it. This was much more interactive than on an airplane. We took a field trip. To the lifeboats. Each lifeboat holds sixty passengers. There are small outlined butt marks on the seats - fifteen on each outside edge and fifteen on each side of a middle row. Each lifeboat also has heat blankets and enough food for a month. It's also enclosed and has the same motor as on the zodiacs. We were impressed with everything except perhaps the lack of room in each boat and the food options. We were told to memorize the number of our lifeboat in case something happened and told if there was an emergency to grab your life jacket (if you are able to) and medications, but not anything else. I hoped we didn't need it.

There was an additional course in the afternoon for safety while outside the ship - kayak, zodiac, land cruises. We learned polar bears are dangerous - they look safe and cuddly, but in reality even three miles away is a bit close. They look sluggish,but when they want something they attack quickly and vengefully. All our guides would carry armaments. We were not to touch any of the guns at any time. They gave us specific examples of how and when guests thought they knew better than the guides. We nodded. One of the big things was to NOT WANDER OFF and STAY WITH THE GROUP. Apparently, people will stop following the naturalists/photographers and instead linger behind to get that one last shot. We were told this was a bad idea and stay with the group. Polar bears were a constant threat on land. We would also have a selection of activities. When viable there would be a kayak, zodiac cruise, long hike, medium hike, short hike, and photo walk available. The medium, short, and photo walk hikes could be paired with a zodiac cruise if time allowed. Everything could change in a moment and everything would change if an ice bear showed up. Terrified, frightened, excited, awed, we made our way back to the cabin to rest.

We spent our first evening on the ship making our way across the waters of southern Svalbard heading toward the ice flows. Small pieces of ice already floated in the water like small pebbles kicked by children when they left a beach.

At dinner we sat by new friends and talked over the day and what we wanted to see. Everyone sill chuckled when I said I wanted ice. I was told multiple times to stare out the window. And thus I did. I spent a great deal of time staring at the water ripple under the blade of the ship as we cut a swarthy path against the slate blue sky.

July 25, 2010 (Sun) Oslo, Longyearbyen and the EXPLORER!!!

The wake-up call was set way too early for my liking, but I was terrified I would miss the boat. After almost a week in Norway, I was feeling fairly acclimated, so 5:30 am seemed way too early. Rushing through the morning routine, I made it down stairs for breakfast with time to spare. Filling a plate full of food (including fruit and cheese), I found a table and proceeded to share travel stories with others.

Many people came early, like me, to Europe. Some cruised the Mediterranean, others went to Bergen, or other Scandinavian cities. Most of us desired an early adjustment to the time change so we would be well adjusted to meal time. Announcements were made reminding us our luggage would be sorted and ready for collection at the airport, but we would all have to pass through security. We were also informed a line would be devoted specifically to our trip because we had a charter flight via Scandinavian Airlines and the plane would NOT be leaving without us accounted for. The bottom line was: take one of the four chartered buses to the airport and enjoy the ride and behave ourselves- don't push and shove in line, be patient, and start making new friends. It felt like the first day of school!

Following breakfast we made our way to the buses for the hour long trip to Gardermoen - my home away from home. I felt as if I had just left it the day before! I was really, really, really excited about NOT seeing Gardermoen (and her security lines) for a week. It turns out one of the buses had problems, so we all squished onto three buses making for a tight fit. I sat in the back row, squeezed between a very nice man from Florida on one side and a naturalist on the other. Conversations flowed and ebbed around the bus. As the miles grew thick away from Oslo, I couldn't help but become melancholy that the "real" Oslo portion of my trip was at an end. The country side was still as captivating as it was on all my other trips surrounding the airport.

At the airport we easily found the pile of luggage but locating our specific luggage in the pile was a bit more of a challenge. It was sorta like at a pep rally when thirty kids/teachers take off their shoes and have to run an obstacle course in the gym before finding their shoes in the pile, only this time it was reversed and we had to find our bags first and then get in line. Julie and I found each other and stood in line with other passengers. The couple behind us were traveling with the husband's aunt and were from Ohio - he was a high school science teacher. Julie and I continually explained who were were to many people. We laughed when asked, "so you two knew each other before the trip?" Answering with, "We chatted by phone, e-mail, and Facebook if that counts, but we've never met." We figured out the night before that we were very compatible and knew this was a good match. The majority of the passengers were excited for the opportunity given to us.

Most people were curious how we were selected. Julie was nominated from her state geography alliance. I self-nominated and didn't even know we had an active geography alliance in Texas. We talked a bit about the essays we wrote and what our past experiences have been. We also talked about the amazing four other people selected this summer for the experience. I am still stunned that little old me was selected, even though friends just laugh when I say that.

Once we checked our luggage and assigned a seat on the flight, we made our way through security. I felt very cosmopolitan and smart when I could tell fellow travelers about what security would be looking for in the hand luggage. I chose to remove the snow boots for the security line even though they did not require the removal of shoes. Once cleared, I went to the Svalbard display with Julie one last time and had her stand under the shower head thing and listen to the arctic terns calling out. I found an open seat at the gate and proceeded to drop my stuff with another passenger who agreed to watch everything, find the computer terminal and send one more tweet out to the world. Sitting back down, I talked to an Irish gent who proceeded to engage me in a conversation about early Polar expeditions.

The plane quickly filled (using a front and rear entrance) and we took off on time for Longyearbyen, Svalbard. During the plane flight our passports were collected and would be returned the last day on the ship. SAS served us a light snack and beverages during the flight. Although I had written a few post cards, I started to work on the bulk of the post cards.

My seat mate was an elementary principal from the New England and her husband. We talked about school, discipline, and the excitement of the first days back. Her teachers are blessed to be under her leadership and management. If I ever leave middle school, I want to work under her.

Landing in Longyearbyen, we excited the plane and walked toward the gate. We learned the passengers from the previous week were inside waiting for us to clear the plane, and the ship was preparing for our arrival. Julie and I excitedly thought we might meet up with the two elementary 2010 Grosvenor Teacher Fellows if they were in Longyearbyen at the moment. The ship had four hours to clean, scrub, and prepare between groups. The older group goes into town for a short stay while the new group is flying in and touring Longyearbyen. We learned our two Fellows, Eloise Portera (from Mississippi) and Lynn Howard (from San Diego), were somewhere near us in the airport, yet so far away. I met Jack, the ships Doctor, who told the girls to stay back and be the last ones in line so the four of us could meet, but they had already passed security when we arrived. Julie and I were crushed that we were so close and yet so far away. We just hoped they had a great trip and we'd swap stories later.

We made it to baggage claim to collect our luggage. Once the luggage was acquired it went into another pile where it would be taken to the ship for us. It was a lot of moving around, but it helped guarantee the luggage was safe and secure.

We loaded the buses and were split into two tour groups. Longyearbyen is the central government seat for Svalbard and although no longer a huge mining community, it houses Svalbard's government, school, church, and museums. Driving toward the town, we saw a large cruise ship docked in the port - it overwhelmed the landscape - we were surprised ships that size came to Longyearbyen. We saw people disembarking from the ship and walking toward the town, but unlike our group, they did not seem to have buses and tours prearranged. None of the towns museums are large enough to accommodate 150 people at once. We were instructed on the bus from the airport that we would eat lunch at the local hotel, which could support a few hundred people at once, and then split back into the groups by our bus number. When we arrived at the hotel, we were instructed to remove our shoes as was custom.

Lunch was served in a large dining area, but with a full complement of travelers and the regular guests, we were rather squished. The assortment of food was delectable: seal, whale, reindeer were laid out on the buffet table next to the salads and fruits. Soups of various sorts were available along with chicken and beef dishes.

On our tour of Longyearbyen, we learned there were two polar bear crossing signs - one at either end of the town. We stopped by the sign past the airport. We piled off the bus, took several shots before someone said, "We all want to... I'm going to take my picture with it." We each posed with the sign and I even managed to get the hippo in a shot. The town has two lane roads, but no turn lane. Looking up the hill, we received a short lesson on coal mines and how the coal was carried to the docks for processing.

The Svalbard museum was an insightful experience into the people who settled the region. When we entered the foyer, we pulled off our shoes and either wore our socks or blue scrub covers on our feet. Photographs were allowed in the museum. While others took photos of the artifacts, I focussed my lens on the large displays explaining the geography and people. I also spent quite sometime in the bookstore section of the gift shop, but was dismayed that the truly great books I wanted to read were all in Russian, Swedish, Norwegian, or other languages that were not English.

At the museum, my favorite exhibits included how children thrived in Svalbard during the last several decades (packages from relatives on the main continent containing toys really helped) and why some of them returned after college. The research, environmental, and tourism communities are helping people born in Svalbard want to stay or return to the area. The other exhibit I really enjoyed was a simple case centered around Erling Johan Nodtvedt. Known as the "vicar with the camera," Nodtvedt was responsible for taking over 3,500 photos of people, places, and events in Svalbard during the 1950's. On a trip where most of us shot 3,000 photos in one week, the dedication and cost of producing quality photographs half a century ago is impressive.

Leaving the museum we next visited the art center where we were given champagne to sip while enjoying the art and watching a ten minute film centered around the arctic lights. The art included both print and photographs. We were all struck by the simplicity of most of the paintings with peaks jutting out slowly against the pale backgrounds. My favorite was a black canvas with a simple streak of light breaking over the landscape. Another room housed money used in Svalbard over the years including Russian rubbles and Norwegian NOK's. The money lined the walls, but instead of benches in the center, a huge bookshelves took centered stage. When I commented on the bookshelf, I was told I could read any of the books. Spending the last ten minutes of my time in the shop, I hungrily glazed over titles, selected one, and sat diligently with it reading as much as I could as fast as I could while writing down other titles to research with. I could have stayed at the table all day.

Outside we loaded back into the bus and took off for the high ground. We visited one of the old mining sites with coal cars swinging above our heads. We passed a kangaroo sign on a building and was told one of the researchers a few years ago was originally from Australia. The church, school, and government center are all withing walking distance from each other. The far side of Longyearbyen also included a parking lot for snow mobiles.

Making our way to the ship, the excitement became palatable on the bus. Our ship looked like a toy sailboat near the huge cruise liner, but the Explorer's sleek lines made us all quickly envision gliding the Arctic waters while polar bears lazed in the sun conserving their energy waiting for a friendly seal to pass by. The trip was finally starting.

July 24, 2010: Oslo, Norway (no airport)

When I was growing up, there were three main fixtures in my fathers office on the 17th floor of the Astronomy Department in RLM at UT. One was enormous stacks of papers and boxes curving into the maze, the second was many Pi digits running across the wall just under the ceiling, and the third was a panoramic photo of a ski jumper flying at Holmenkollen in Norway.

At breakfast Friday morning, we planned the day. Anne had an engagement around lunch time, but was free before and after. Guvnor was free for the day, but would like a simple afternoon. Jan-Erik was game for anything. I needed to meet the Lindblad group at the Continental Hotel around 5:30, but was otherwise open. The Lindblad group had tour lined up in the afternoon for anyone who wanted to participate, they were planning on visiting the Fram Museum and the Vigeland Sculpture Garden, but I decided I would spend enough time with the boat people during the trip and wanted to spend more time with the Solheims.

Cleaning the breakfast dishes, we made plans. If we moved quickly enough all of us could visit Holmenkollen. I had been given several options and they all sounded fun, but visiting a real ski jump sounded even better!

Piling into the car, I found myself next to Jan-Erik as he maneuvered around the roads that twisted around this section of Oslo. Holmenkollen is the site of the 2011 World Championships, the road leading down the mountain is currently under construction and we all commented about how we'd find an alternate route down. The roads in Oslo were just as small as the roads in Tromso going up the mountains. It reminded me of driving to McDonald Observatory where you reach the top and a stop sign greets you, in our old family vehicle we feared we'd slide backwards if the break was applied - I had similar thoughts driving up the mountains of Norway even though I knew modern cars were much better equipped!!

Giddy with anticipation, we drove around to the parking lot. Because of the construction, parking is still free and it was early enough for only a moderate amount of traffic. The day was stunning with clear skies and a gentle breeze. The first floors of Holmenkollen are devoted to the history of skiing in Norway. Large and small skies were on display showing examples of what people wore. Sledges, snowshoes, and traditional hunting equipment was also highlighted. I enjoyed looking at the old photos of women in long dresses bundled up on long skis and the royal family photos. My father learned to ski at age three in Norway, it was fun looking at the skis and clothing he would have worn in the late 1940's.

The line to visit the jump was decent when we made our way to it in a very plain room with a winding line to the elevator. Feeling pressed for time, the line moved slower than expected. But we prevailed and hung in till it was our time. When we reached the front, they only had room for two more - Anne and I went first with Guvnor and Jan-Erik coming in the next group.

Breathtaking does not adequately describe the feeling of being at the top of the jump where people will start their flight. I told Anne all I needed to do was strap on skis, bend at my knees, have someone push me off, and fold my arms back. She laughed, the people around us chuckled and looked horrified at my demonstration. Some even clicked their tongue at me. From the top of the jump we could see the parking lot and the ski bridges under construction. Just like people will take their bicycles and lock them up at their destination, people will do the same thing here with their skis.

From our high vantage point we could see the forests fanning out from the city. Oslo and Norway are protecting huge swaths of land from human growth and consumption. There are a lot of people who want to open the land commercially, but right now it is protected and stunning looking out over the mountain top.

Anne described to me how in the summer, the bottom of the jump is filled in and concerts and events will take place. During some winter months, the bottom can be filled with water for an ice skating ring. Holemkollen is more than a ski jump for the city of Oslo.

This was the first visit for the entire Solheim clan to the jump since construction had really been started. We all marvelled at the changes and I was told how they were changing the layout of the jump. The new jump is a much steeper angle then the old jump, reinforcing my opinion that all you need to do is sit low and tight and keep the skis parallel for the jump. The enormity of the jump is surprising: it looks much smaller on t.v. The seats near the jumping launch are trimmed downward and form a bowl near the bottom. The royal family has their own box seats.

Walking downstairs we could tell it was much later. The medium size line we stood in was now three times as long with people waiting on the staircase to get inside the room with the elevator. Finishing at the gift shop, we took Anne to her appointment.

We stopped at the local grocery for a rotisserie chicken to eat at lunch. Back at the house we set the table outside on the deck. Guvnor's mother loved flowers and the bloomed with delight around the house in all colors. The deck was full of flowers as we ate our food.

After throwing my bags in the car and hugging Guvnor goodbye, Jan-Erik and I left for our meeting spot with Anne. We met her by a set of shops and drove to the Continental. Anne helped lug my belongings inside and get me checked in. Carrying half my worldly belongings, she asked if she could see the room. I begged her to help me cart everything upstairs. We opened the door and made happy sounds about the view facing the National Theater, the bathroom, and the appointments in the room. She opened the window for me, demonstrating how it could swing all the way open or just open from the top depending on which way you set the latches. Later that night, it was dumb luck that I managed to open the window the way I wanted it.

We ran back to Jan-Eric and the car and took off for the Vigeland Scultupe Park at the Frogner Gardens. Their parking is worse than Zilker Gardens! He finally just dropped us off and would meet us in a bit after finding a spot.

The park is enormous. It's a lot like Zilker Gardens, but has a series of statues depicting the human experience. I couldn't imagine any garden in America accepting the risque statues lining the park. Ducks swam in the water below the bridge near the famous statue of Sinnataggen, a young angry boy. The park and statues have been a fixture since before the Second World War. The monolith of humanity was even covered during the war to protect it during blackouts.

While we only spent an hour in the park, the musicians playing for coin were charming. We listened to a young man in jeans play an accordion, an older gentleman play the guitar (complete with cd's for sale), a young teenager in a pretty spring dress play her violin, and others scattered around the park. I later learned the tour guide for the Lindblad group thought of these street musicians as ruining the park, I thought it added to the chatter and joy as people strolled across the wide lanes and children ran with joyous energy.

My favorite area of the park were the mazes by the monolith. I spent a few minutes running trying to find the path and not run into anyone. I also loved the sundial located just beyond the monolith's grandeur. The sundial's base included 12 stone zodiac signs and stone benches to sit on. Along the lawns people played games, listened to music, or sat in contemplation under the warm sun. The day was perfection.

We also stopped by the University of Oslo Astronomy Department's observatory dome on campus. Although under construction and locked, we still took multiple pictures from the outside. Anne and I discussed starting a Facebook page for Astronomer children and laughed as we tried to create the acceptance parameters such as you needing to name five observatories including a photo of you at one of them and when your parental worked there. The two of us had a splendid time together and it was a lot of fun telling people she baby-sat me years ago when asked how we knew each other.

The Solheims left me near the American Embassy (well guarded), the Nobel Prize announcement hall, and the Royal Palace (not well guarded). Anne gave me a few books to read that she though I would enjoy and told me to enjoy the rest of the trip.

<>

Royal Palace >

Walking toward the hotel, I passed shops that specialized in Coca-Cola merchandise, a theater, and a small bookstore. I crossed to the Palace grounds and enjoyed my time roaming the gardens. The tours were done for the day, but I did see the guards change hands. The Norwegians love their royal family - they talk about their generosity, kindness, and ordinary life styles. It is not uncommon to see them walking the streets and enjoying themselves. I tried to understand why our embassy was shrouded in an ugly building (built in the 1960's) behind barbed wire fences and guards with guns and their King's home was open and inviting.

Returning to the hotel, I changed clothing and called Julie Costello in her room. The phones had our names programed into the system - no mistake about which room I called! I ran down to her floor and was greeted with a hug and a neckless she made of the map of Svalbard. We chatted and went to the happy hour social.

Somehow we ended up at a table with people from Dallas, Corpus Christi, and Fredericksburg. Julie from North Dakota fit right in with the Texans. They told us to have our luggage out by 10pm for pickup to the airport or call the front desk if it was going to be later. We were also told to have the big yellow tags attached. A flurry of questions concerning nightwear and toothbrushes made scattered at the tables.

Saying good-night to the people at the tables, we made our way back to the rooms for sweaters and wallets. Many people broke off to go eat at the restaurants around town, but we were content from the appetizers of fish, bread, cheese, and other assorted goods. I also warned Julie how expensive Norway was and how I didn't feel the need to waste money on food I was too full to eat.

We walked across the park grounds near the hotel and headed toward the pier. We stopped for frozen yogurt and I refused to let her think about how much the little cups of frozen pistachio cream cost. Stopping at a McDonalds, I poked in just to take a photo of the menu. Walking, talking and sharing stories, we lost track of time because the sun takes a really long time to start a semi-decent in the sky. The two 6th grade World Culture/Geography/History teachers left the hotel light on our feet, but with some really dumb mistakes. We didn't take the hotel address or phone number, and in fact, neither one of us took a cell phone. Needless to say we got thoroughly lost on our way back and were out much later than expected. Things finally started to look familiar and it was only when we stopped yet another Oslo local, did we notice the huge sign of our hotel. Laughing we thanked him for his help (by which he was completely confused as only half our question had been asked), and made it back to the hotel. We parted ways and headed to our rooms.

Although it was after 10pm, all the luggage was still outside. I finished rearranging my bags, checked to make sure anything security would hate was still sealed in the main bag and put it outside. I never called downstairs because the bags still had not been collected. Leaving the t.v. on Norwegian music videos, I took a bath and prepared for bed. I took photos of the theater outside my window and looked out at the late night party goers waiting for the last bus before retiring for the night.

July 23, 2010: North Norway back to Oslo

Waking up Friday morning, I knew I was going to find myself on a plane. I followed enough travel folks along the Twitter route to hear them gripe a wee bit about security lines, planes, airports, and non-stop travel arrangements. I love travel, I love the building excitement and the take offs and landings of planes. I love trying new things, meeting new people, and the experience. But Friday morning as I sat near the window of my room watching the rain fall and listening to water rushing down a mountain from the nearby hidden stream, it occurred to me that I really didn't want to go anywhere. I wanted this peaceful moment at this amazing house to last another eternity. The world was perfect in that fragile moment and I feared even the sun breaking through the cloudy skies would shatter it.

My entire trip North was covered in light drizzle and clouds. There were no huge thunderstorms rolling through during my stay and the clouds never gathered en-mass and hit the land. My time in Norway was mainly spent with a lot of bruised-tinged clouds hovering above, between, and below the mountains. Everyone in Norway kept apologizing for the rain and drizzle, but the dry heat Central Texan in me soaked it all in. My favorite clouds were those layered between the mountains. You could see a cloud half way up the mountain, but it was light enough to see through it and above to the peak of the mountain where heavier clouds lingered dusting the tops. Back home we have clouds way above our heads, or morning clouds at our feet; but we don't have clouds whispering half way between soil and sky.

Following another fine breakfast, we planned the day. My plane was scheduled to leave around 7:30pm from Tromso. The original plan was to take me swimming, unfortunately, the swimming pool was only open in the afternoon and would have to be missed. That just gives me a reason to return for another visit. We determined the whale would be cooked for luncheon.

Birger, Jimmy, my little friend, and I took a walk around the property. I learned more about the family history in the area as we walked the grassy property. We walked down to the fjord, listening to the rushing water always beside us or in hearing. At the fjord I quickly remembered why I don't skip stones -mine plopped and sank quickly. Birger took his smooth stone and had it glide and hop six times across the cerulean violet-blue water before sinking. The fjord water was clean and crisp, but not as cold as I expected.

When we returned to the house, I asked for the Uno game to be brought down. The younger Holm was game to play, but it took a while to convince her Dad to join in. We tried to convince her Mom, but she kept shaking her head and laughing, "no". Uno really is best played in a larger group, but the three of us made do. We didn't keep score, but I went over the instructions and point values for future play. As the whale cooked, we continued play. They picked up on the sarcastic remarks we use back home, such as "I thought you loved me" decreed by the receptive opponent after a player slams down a "Draw 4" card. There was much giggling, laughing, and comeradery as we continued the game until lunch was ready. Her school chums are going to love the card game.

Whale is intriguing. The minke whale is one of the smaller baleen whales usually growing to no more than 35 feet weighing about 8 tons. The Norwegian government allows about 300 minke whales to be caught annually. The whale was bought from a reputable shop in Tromso that also sells seagull eggs (which I didn't get to try because they were out of season). The whale meat itself was speckled, but looked a lot like beef. When cooked, it holds a similar texture to beef in toughness and knife usage. It wasn't particularly gamey, nor did it taste much like liver. It was full of flavor, but in no way tasted fishy. Still being full from breakfast, I didn't do justice to the whale even with the perfectly cooked onions and potatoes with it. Luckily, Jimmy was available to help eat my portion.

Following lunch we prepared for my leave from Tromso. I attempted typing on a European keyboard again with little success, but did manage to load the photos we had taken on their computer for them. Leaving Girlinde and Fredi was difficult after a perfect few days. They were sweet enough to say I could return to their home in the future. Friends are precious gifts, especially when they treat you like family.

Driving to Tromso we parked at the mall. U.S. parking garages usually have slanted or straight parking spots; this garage fit parking spaces at all angles. We wedged the car in what I considered the scariest spot I've ever seen: it was carved out between poles at a slight angle with parallel cars parked on either side with straight spaces directly behind.

We walked past Mack brewery and the British Consulate on our way to the Norsk Polarinstitutt. Birger pointed the institute out to me on Wednesday from atop Storsteinen. The Norwegian Polar Institute is an education and research institution founded in 1906 which today includes a museum. The museum exhibits and displays include live seals and fish for visitors to watch and learn more about. They also show a couple different films. We saw the panoramic film about the Arctic birds and animals. Beautifully composed, the film follows the path of a small Arctic tern as he travels around Svalbard. The film was without voices allowing the scenery speak for itself. It was a delightful introduction to what I might see over the next week in Svalbard.

Leaving the museum we walked toward the Roald Amundson statue. In the US, everone knows Shackleton's survival story, but few know the importance of this early 20th century adventurer. Amundson was a Norweigian explorer whose many accomplishments include being the first to reach both the North and South Poles and the first to cross from Spitsbergen to Canada's Northwest Passage via the Arctic.

Making our way back towards the mall, we stopped along the boulevards shops. An open market sold US Confederate hats next to buttons with red lines crossing out a Nazi swastika along side Metalica t-shirts. The sweet shops were amazing: walls of homemade confections next to Scandinavian chocolatiers, Jelly Bellies, and the occasional Hershey product. I was gifted with several pieces to savor as we made our way to the mall.

The mall was typical of what we have in the states, only the names were quite different. Shops owned by Swedish companies sat next to Finish or Norwegian owned shops, but nothing from America. We went to the bookstore for school supplies. I wasn't too interested in the adult books, but went to the small teen selection. Barnes and Nobles spoils us with huge displays and lots of books at our disposal. The selection in the shop included the usual current popular selection of Harry Potter and Twilight books. I did find Catching Fire for Ruth, but the exorbident fee of over $40 American dollars for the book made me think twice. I took a photo of the cover for her instead.

We made our way to the airport with plenty of time to spare. I made the luggage check-in with plenty of spare time. After the Holms left, I discovered in going through security my mistake and not packing the knife in the proper bag. Quickly stressing out again, I had a brilliant idea of mailing it back to Texas. Rushing to the Norwegian Air counter, I asked if there was any place I could mail the package. The attendant looked at me like I was an insane American. He said my other bag couldn't be retrieved, but if I had another piece of luggage I could put it in, I could send it on the plane. He nodded sagely when I said, "I guess that would be cheaper than mailing it to Texas." I rearranged my two carry on bags, wrapped the knife in the sweater, and paid the fee to have the backpack make the plane. I figured if the backpack didn't make the flight, I could always collect it Sunday morning on the way to Svalbard.

Feeling much more secure in how to handle the Norwegian plane, I made my way with the rest of the people onto the plane. I determined while boarding it was great traveling in a country where people understood your language; but it was awful still having weird jet-lag experiences when you just don't plan things right.

The flight back to Oslo was relatively uneventful. The crew offered food and beverages again as we glided over the landscape. As we neared the Arctic Circle, the pilots announced it was coming up. I've never seen any cloud formation like it. Literally at the Arctic Circle the clouds disappeared. Looking behind the plane toward Tromso, the clouds were a thick blanket covering the land; in front it was open to the fjords and land below.

Landing in Oslo without any delays, I quickly passed all the lanes of traffic and made my way to baggage. I waited for my bags remembering what they both looked like, hoping the tear in the backpack was not exacerbated by the flight and the orange tape we slathered on at the counter held.

The bus was waiting at stop #28 after I retrieved my bags. I obviously had no concept of time, because after rushing toward the bus, we still sat for 15 minutes waiting until it was time to leave. I charged my bus fare because on the plane I discovered I was 15 NOK short after needing to spend the money on the checked bag.

The Solheims came and collected at the station. While I waited for their arrival, there was a nice man who was out walking his dog. We chatted about dogs and America. His dog was about 50 times larger than Jimmy.

Back at the house, I (re)met Anne who was in town for a few days. Anne and her family live in eastern Norway. It was two of her children I met with Inga at the airport. They had saved dinner for me. While I ate, I learned all about Dr. Jan-Erik's trip to Easter Island for the eclipse and caught up on news about Anne's family. I hadn't seen her in 20 years when she baby-sat me in Austin. It was a marvelous evening.

I returned to my room, unpacked the one bag, repacked the larger suitcase, made sure all items security would disagree over made the sealed inside pocket where I could happily forget about them, and went to bed. It was good to be back in Oslo where the sun still shone at 1am, in two days I headed for Svalbard.

July 22, 2010 North Norway

There is nothing in the world quite like waking up to the sound of rushing water on a crisp morning with the sun's rays dimly lighting the surrounding cloud covered sky. I went to sleep with the window open just a smidgen allowing the fresh air to circulate. I didn't quite realize the room would feel chilled in the morning as drizzle lightly covered the lawn below. My first conscious thought on Thursday morning was realizing for the first time since Monday morning, I was not going to even see an airport or hear the sound of a jet engine and I was not expected to be on a plane at all. Smiling with great anticipation of not being on a plane, I closed the window and quickly dressed for breakfast.

Jimmy heard me first and greeted me with his friendly barking while members of the house hold with valiant failure tried to hush him. I reminded him that I too was an American, it didn't seem to really make much of an impact on him and he continued to growl at me.

Helping set the breakfast table, we ate in the sun room. Jams, jellies, meats, cheeses, breads, muesli quickly filled the table leaving little room for the coffee pot and juices. My general idea is always to avoid breakfast or at least stir a spoon absentmindedly in a small ball of cereal as others munch, but here I kept finding food placed in front of me with the only option of eating it. My plate kept emptying and refilling with delectable morning treats, I've never eaten so much breakfast in my life as I continued to savor every breakfast offered to me.

Following breakfast The Finnish Holm family (including our ex-patriot Jimmy) and I piled back in the car for a drive to Finland. Before we took off, we stopped by the priests house to pick up his grocery list. Because Finland is on the Euro and prices are generally cheaper, when one neighbor makes a run to the other side of the border, neighbors will have you shop for them.

Along the drive to Kilpisjarvi, Finland we passed more mountains with water tumbling down. The road hug the curves lightly as we passed through the farmland. Near the border we saw our first reindeer. I am blind, it is an accepted fact as we scanned the road and everyone excitedly pointed. I blindly took photos hoping a reindeer was in some of them.

A mile down the road I saw my first reindeer up close. Reindeer are rather stupid, they're like Scottish sheep and American cows. The herd will stand in the middle of the road while people wait for them to figure out where they're going to. The deer are impressive with antlers and shaggy coat. A few of them even decided they would run along side our car.

Kilpisjarvi is a moderate sized town. A center for commercial trade, the town was more out of the old west then a modern city. No large skyscrapers dot the skyline or a huge boulevard with fast food restaurants taint the streets. A quiet place, it does have a shopping center.

The center is split into three main shops: the outdoor shop (much like an Academy or Cabela's), the grocery, and a restaurant. We spent some time shopping. The grocery was fascinating to me as it was half grocery and half gift shop. They had everything: an aisle devoted to toddler toys, games including Twister and 12 Euro Uno, knickknacks of all descriptions, and food. I was most captivated by the cactus, and while I had my photo taken with the cactus, I chose not to buy it for a souvenir. We bought some stamps and postcards for me to write out during lunch.

Rifling through t-shirts, I soon became confused when I realized I couldn't figure out how to tell the sizes. I didn't study, nor had a brought a European/American conversion chart. Luckily, sliding the packaging around enough, I was able to tell shirt size by the large "L", "M" or "S" found on the Hanes tag.

Finishing our shopping, we walked to the cafe portion where we ate reindeer stew and mashed potatoes and fruit as the radio played music from Air Supply and the Bee Gee's in the background. The stew was over salted but good. I discovered I liked reindeer stew more than straight reindeer meat. I must have been full from breakfast because although I valiantly tried, I couldn't finish it all and Jimmy would finish the rest later. There is always room for desert and today was no exception with a cream filled chocolate delight. Near the end of our meal, the power went out in the restaurant. Because of the warm light outside, inside the dining room everything was fine, the only problem was the bathrooms were closed, so we chose not to linger.

Returning to the car, we made our way back to Norway and the house with all our purchases tucked in the trunk. Along the Lapland roadside was a large Sami tent. We parked the car and the youngest Holm and I walked up to the tent. We soon ran into a language barrier as the woman did not speak English, Norwegian, or Finnish, and my friend scampered off to grab her dad who spoke many more languages.

We learned that she was Sami, she raised reindeer, and this was her tent (next to the tent was a truck with a small camper bed). I fingered the beautiful capes and clothing realizing the prices were well out my budget of the Norwegian money I carried. I found a knife for my husband back home - Although I liked the blade on one of them more, the sheath on the one I selected had a patch of reindeer fur making it much more interesting. I found a Sami doll for myself and was informed I needed a small reindeer pelt to keep me warm. I tried unsuccessfully to explain it never gets that cold in Texas, but was told it would fit on a chair and keep my butt warm. After already experiencing fish, whale, and reindeer - I concluded that owning a piece of reindeer pelt really wasn't that bad and added it to my growing pile. Before we left she was kind enough to let us get a photo of she and I wearing traditional hats outside her tent.

Back in the car, Birger said she spoke a very old form of Finnish that even he was had trouble deciphering. We all concluded I had met a real Sami woman and I now owned a reindeer pelt from a reindeer that had been part of her herd.

Summertime in Norway it is deceptively easy to loose track of time. Later in the afternoon, after we had dropped the priests groceries off and were back at the house, we decided to take a drive and show me Fredi and Birger's father's homeland.

Along the drive I learned how the German occupation affected this corner of Norway during the war. Blackouts weren't quite as common and many of the Germans posted to the land fell in love with it and her people. Several after the war would return or take new spouses back to Germany. The war and occupation was hard on the Norwegian people. They were among the first to fall victim to the Third Reich, right after Poland. The Norwegian King bartered for the safety of his people in the occupation documents.

We arrived in Tennes at the Balsfjord Lutheran church their grandfather had built across the road from a graveyard. The center of the graveyard held a large memorial for the citizens who fought and died for Norway from the county.

Crossing up a light path from the graveyard, the rocky trail changed to polished planks under our feet and signs of construction on either side of us. Hiking the trail, the fine mist drizzled around us already casting small pools of water on the plastic tarmacs scattered around. Our destination was the uncovered rock carvings along the path.

While some excavation work is being done on the carvings, those uncovered are left to the elements. There are so many prehistoric sites in Norway, the government is not valuing all of them. My hosts were shocked to learn many of the American sites have to be protected with little access because of vandals adding their own special graffiti to the carvings.

The carvings primarily represented animals and fish. Whales and reindeer carvings were easy to pick out. The daily life of people 5000 years ago took shape. The majority of the carvings were still red, but I wondered if left unprotected, how long they will last.

Making our way down the hill, Birger and his daughter drove the car around the church to the peer. Fredi and I walked around the church and crossed to the rocks butting against the fjord. We picked our way across the rocks. Fredi described the flowers and fish that lived on this beach. Blue shells dotted along the rocks most likely brought up from the birds to eat in peace. Carefully trending over the slick rocks we made it to the pier where fishing poles were out, worms were attached and we fished.

The rain still drizzled down and we decided not to fish for too long. The haul was rather small and the fish inside the plastic bag didn't seem too happy squirming around flapping its tale.

Back at the house, I was in the kitchen as the fish lost its head and other fish soon followed its path to being prepared for dinner.

Dinner once more was joyous, inviting, and relaxing as we related the day to the other family members. Following dinner we sat around talking more about Education and trying to figure out the new English textbook and how to make it work in a classroom. Finnish textbooks are just as silly as American textbooks.

Returning to my room for bed, I chose not to leave the window open again. But couldn't help staring out at the landscape before me. This really was a beautiful country.

July 21, 2010: North Norway

After very quick introductions, it was back to the carousel to watch for the baggage. Among the nicest things about having friends at the airport is the ability to dump the rest of your baggage with them while you stand near the moving conveyor belt watching other peoples luggage pass you for the billionth time before your bag shows up.

While they waited for me to collect luggage, I gave the smallest Holm her first gift - the armadillo from Texas and a small book children's book about them - the Finns all perplexing looked at the creature trying to figure out if it was some sort of possum. I wanted her to have something memorable from Texas that none of her friends could possibly have in Finland. Somehow the nine banded armadillo suited my needs.

Baggage and American collected, we proceeded to their car in the garage. The Norwegians do some things very nicely at the airport - they have two doorways to board the plane and you pay for your parking in the garage instead of wasting gas collecting the tickets.

GPS systems really are lovely little gadgets that I may need to invest in. I don't know if it's going to help or work for me, but I'm starting to think it can't hurt. A lot of my American friends with the units give the different voices names based on regional accents and personalities of the voice. Their GPS speaks Finnish of course and worked just fine in America last summer for Birger.

Tomso is a large city in North Norway. It's past 69 Latitude and conveniently two hours from Longyearbyen, Murmansk, and Oslo by plane. It sits on a fjord (like most of Norway) with a surrounding human population near 100,000. Tromso is a popular destination for fishing, technology, education, and tourism. Tromso is a major center for seeing the Midnight Sun and for seeing the never ending dark night at other times of the year. I was there during the Midnight Sun.

Popular attractions in Tromso include the Polar Institute, the statues, Mack Brewery (next to the British Consulate), fjords, the Arctic Cathedral, and the mountains. I was asked if I wanted to climb a mountain. Always a good idea right after lack of sleep, so I said "sure". We drove across the fjord bridge, past the Arctic Cathedral and made our way through narrow two way streets up to a mountain as I started to contemplate if this was really my best idea. Having decided prior to the start of the trip that I would accept any adventure thrown my way, I figured it was too late to worry about the decision; even if I did keep thinking about how I had been planning to exercise extensively before the trip - which didn't quite happen.

I gazed up at the mountain and started to seriously wonder again what I had gotten myself into. It was already after 4pm and the climb would take a while. I'm by no means an experienced mountain climber and looking at the mountain I couldn't quite figure out how we were going to do this as I could not find a trail, but I was game and figured we could go about half way and return down.

We left the car in the lot and start moving toward Storsteinen Mountain. Walking toward the entrance, I wondered what all the people who live on the narrow streets by the parking lot think of the traffic that comes here for holiday. As we approached the base camp of the mountain I started to take in more of the surroundings. Only when Birger told us "I'm going to get the tickets" and my new small friend tugged my hand and said "look" did I even notice the cable car moving toward the top of the peak. Giddy relief flooded me as I had really been wondering just how much mountain climbing I could do after my non-stop travels.

Piling into the cable car, it really did look as if we were brushing the tree tops below. The chatter grew as we climbed upward and I was sure at one point we were going to run smack into the trees that loomed infront. The car safely dropped us off 420 meters above sea level at the cafe/gift shop with its beautiful panorama views of the city. Somehow climbing a mountain became much more manageable with half the work done.

Marta decided to stay at the cafe/gift shop and let the rest of us climb. The snow didn't look all that far away and we made that our goal. The rest of us, with Jimmy in the lead, climbed upward. We stopped several times to allow me to catch my breath, take in the scenery, and rest. The altitude and excursion were starting to factor in with the travel exhaustion. Once we reached the snow bank, we had a great time throwing snowballs and falling down. I am not quite flexible enough to remain on my feet and had a fantastic time sliding around. We walked to the snow melt and watched the stream. This was my first experience watching the power of water from the snow melt in Norway. It was just a small trickle, but looking down the weathered path, it was easy to see the continued power the rushing water created after a good storm or with the seasons first melt.

Finding our way back down the mountain was much easier. We stopped at a small rock pile in the clearing. In Norway there is a tradition of stacking rocks on top of each other. Once you stack your rocks you make a wish. They are also called rocks from home.

Driving even farther North opened new landscapes. Mountains are something we have in the lower 48 states. Mountains streaming with huge flows of water from glacier melt is something I don't see everyday. I'll admit I've never seen anything like the water flow. It's as if someone turned a huge spigot inside a small room and forgot to turn it off. The sound resonates through everything. The only time these streams don't flow is when they're frozen. It would not be until my second night that I realized there was no huge highway outside my bedroom window with rushing traffic, but the stream leading into the fjord; that is how loud the water is. The water just gushed from a couple places on each mountain. You can see evidence of other streams that have dried for the season from the mountains as water poured down huge streams just meters away. We drove around Balsfjorden with Birger pointing out the house across the wide span of water.

The house I was visiting was built by his grandfather many years before. In Norway to keep the property in the family, you must live on it. Because the local economy is still tied to farming and not much else, it would be hard to make a living in Northern Norway. Birger's retired German cousin owns the house now and lives on the land. As a girl who lives in Central Texas where the sun shines most of the year and the skies are wide open, I'm not sure I could live in a place where the sun hides and shadows loom over the land for several months a year.

Arriving at the house, I became acutely aware of my mono-linguistic issues. The problem with being an American who has no aptitude for languages, is I have to hope and accept the fact that I'm dependent on the goodwill of others. Before leaving Austin, Birger asked me what other languages I spoke. I find it depressing we don't emphasis basic knowledge of languages in America. Luckily, everyone in the house understood or spoke English and made the trip easy for me. Fredi spoke mainly German, but understood my English fare enough (and his English skills are quite good) and made the trip stress free. The Hellman-Holm household is delightful, warm, welcoming, and comforting. The German-Finn-Norweigian-American household was a joyful place over the next few days.

I was shepherded inside and like most Norwegian households, asked to take my shoes off at the door. Most people (both in north and south Norway) will wear house slippers or socks inside. Many people have a small area or room by the front door to leave shoes (Every place we entered in Svalbard would be the same including the museums, hotel, and even some of the gift shops. In Svalbard many of the museums had shoes for you to borrow or blue coverings for your socks).

The house is beautiful and picturesque. Fredi and Girlinde have built a sun room off the back room. She felt that if she was going to live in a place where you don't get sun for six months, she wanted to make sure she could have the sun available at all times. The room really opens the rest of the house and floods it with light.

Norwegian homes are comparatively the same size as those in America. However, in America I'm use to big appliances. Huge refrigerators, stoves, and washers dominate rooms, appliances are quite smaller in Norway. It was a quiet reminder of how much power and consumption we use in the States without thought. (The Solheim's dishwasher is slightly bigger than a large microwave oven and sits on the counter top.) Everything is compact and made to save space. Bathrooms contain showers with two doors forming a triangle for the area in which to bathe. Europe really is known for using space wisely.

Before dinner I ran up to my room and collected the presents I had brought. We laughed and decreed it Christmas in July. Although nothing was wrapped, I think everyone had a great time opening the gifts.

We had a fantastic evening. I ate freshly caught fish. It was served still with the tail attached, but happily no head. I generally dislike fish - I'm not a fan of the fishy taste that lingers on everything. My new friends all taught me how to eat fish and watch out for the bones. I've determined fresh Norwegian fish tastes significantly better than frozen Norwegian fish flown in to the states. I ate one side of the fish and my hosts pointed out I could flip it over and eat the other side after scraping the skin away. I was quite full and declined the offer, thinking from where I stood it looked pretty well-eaten with the small bones fanned out along the carcass. Jimmy would get to eat the rest of my food after it had been scraped by someone much more proficient at it then I.

After dinner we talked about school and kids and classes. My young friend left the dinner table early and bounced back and forth with the conversation. It's hard to be a kid when all the adults want to do is talk and chat; she had much more patience then I had at her age. We had a lot of education to chat about, it's not every day we get to talk about students, programs, and expectations from another country and life in America. In America, we're so focused on what other American schools are doing right and working to improve our own school -- it's interesting to get a fresh perspective on what's working. We have the same overall problems - dress code, lack of respect, parent support... somehow its nice having verification that what is working for us, and not working for us, is the same in another country. Birger and his wife teach in two different schools, so between the three of us we had different and yet similar experiences. He teaches a series of history classes including one on American history, she teaches English and I had to try and explain how I teach World Cultures - a combination of history, culture, and geography. (Everyone on the trip, found it fascinating - in a horrified sense- that the State of Texas expects the children to learn history, culture, and geography together in the same year. Of course most people were pretty shocked to hear our kids have two years of Texas history in the 4th and 7th grade. Seeing as the Texas Education Agency just past the history standards for the next ten years, our children will still be receiving two years of Texas History for the foreseeable future.)

Going to bed that night it was good to be in Northern Norway knowing I had survived the Oslo airport and airplanes on my own and while not quite ready to tackle living in a foreign country by myself, I proved to myself I could navigate from point A to point B on my own.