Archive for the 'Norway' Category

Flying - Isn’t it Becoming More and More Attractive?

So, another shoe-bomber has appeared, this time thigh bomber Muslim terrorist Umar Farouk Abdulmutallab, a rich banker’s son from Nigeria, whose, wait for this: Own father had warned the authorities about his son’s increasingly scary “religious” behaviour.

The authorities, meanwhile, didn’t see this as reason enough to put him on a no-fly list, although they had already had him in their sights before the father had warned them, and he was allowed to board the plane from Amsterdam with a lethal concoction strapped to his thigh while all around him non-Muslim passengers were stripped of their little bottles of shampoo, hair-gel and mineral water.

Charming! Air flight is getting more and more attractive, wouldn’t you say?

Meanwhile I’ve noticed, on the two occasions I’ve been flying this year, that the security personnel in airports seem to consist almost purely of persons of - Oh! “Middle-Eastern appearance.”

We can’t say Muslims, can we? No. And not all people of middle-eastern appearance are Muslims, to be sure. But there certainly are a lot of them working in airports, taking bottled water away from people.

Would it be an enormously huge leap of the imagination to perhaps think that one, just one of these people in charge of security at airports could possibly be someone not with the passengers’ best interest in mind but on the contrary let through people with less innocent substances on their persons than shampoo?

Just a thought. Meanwhile, the train is cheaper, better for the environment and - at least in China - has far better security than, apparently, that of European and American planes …

Groggy Nogs

Early this month I had some Norwegian friends visiting and they were of course wildly impressed with Hong Kong, living as they do in a small town with wooden houses and cobble-stoned streets.
It was good for me to see HK through their eyes, through the adoring eyes of a newcomer. I could see how scenes like the one above could appear beautiful to them - it did to me! I think it looks like one of those views from a medieval turret: “One day, son, all this will be yours.”

I should appreciate the Hong Kong skyline and outstanding features more, instead of always trying to find fault with our excellent Chief Executive Sir Donald Tsang Excr. Excr. and the way he seeks to root out and exterminate every building older than ten years.
Yes, even post-annihilation Hong Kong can be beautiful in a certain light:

These two were taken from the 55th floor of The Center. I tell you, if the windows could be opened and I fell down, I’d seriously hurt myself.

One thing the Norwegians said again and again was that Hong Kong is so clean! So very clean! Well that’s hardly surprising. After all we have about 300 000 servants to pick stuff up for us almost before we’ve dropped it. What surprised me is that Norway is now so dirty.

But it’s the opposite of here really; here the city is kept spotless and rubbish free while people bring sacks and sacks of crap to the countryside (notably sleepy backwater Pui O, Lantau Island) and leave it there. What’s the problem? Nobody lives there anyway!
In Norway the countryside is kept clean and the “city” full of rubbish. But they don’t have servants of course. Call themselves a rich country!

The Noggie visitors also praised highly Hong Kong’s tap water. That’s right! Norway has fantastic tap water it has to be said, and now I feel vindicated after these 20 years of drinking from the tap here in Hong Kong while people around me recoil in horror - IT’S DIRTY!!! spending thousands of dollars a year on bottled water. I mean - buy water? What a scam!

So yeah, I love Hong Kong. Again. But I will still keep an eye on that nasty little bow tied rodent, just in case. He’s still hellbent on making his mark as the one who single-handedly generated the most cash for Hong Kong’s property developers, and don’t you forget it.

National Day Extravaganza

Woo-hoo! 60 years of glory and the commies are going at it hammers and tongs. Nowhere is the excitement at the world’s greatest milestone-reaching more palpable than in sleepy backwater Pui O, where local villagers have erected three huge posters proclaiming the coming of the … what’s the opposite of apocalypse? And this morning a whole villager was watching tv in the caff where I had breakfast ( the others being glued to the screens at home no doubt) transfixed or something by the sight of thousands and thousands of identically, I mean to the millimeter, tall soldiers marching down Chang An Avenue with the precision of schools of fish on the Great Barrier Reef.

Or maybe the singlet and shorts-clad geezer was thinking, as he semi-tapped along to the rhythm of the rousing military music, that he was sitting in that very restaurant and not for example in a labour camp, because his parents at one stage swam across perilous waters to get away from that very thing Pui O is celebrating with such force?

Make no mistake, I also hoisted the national flag on my roof. I was even going to watch the extravaganza on tv this evening, if I could find a tv … but ended up doing something completely different, namely shooting a film. Never mind. It would only have been interminable communist speeches followed by hysterically happy ethnic minorities (notably Tibetans) dancing anyway.

But those soldiers on the morning show: Wah! There were all sorts of uniforms and headgear, and I’ve never seen live people looking so much like computer-animated special effects. The impression of an awesome military might was somewhat ruined (for me anyway) however, when they trotted out these … whores? No, female soldiers, in mini skirts! Really, really short miniskirts and boots of a kind that wouldn’t look out of place in a fetish shop. They must have raided the whole country to find that many tall women - of identical height, naturally - who could also march with such robotic precision and lift their legs that high without their undies showing.

Safe in the knowledge that 60 years of non-stop glory has now been celebrated in such style without a hitch and assuming that none of the new tanks and other military hardware trotted out for the occasion didn’t crash (I stopped watching after about the 120 thousandth soldier) I can now go to bed.

Eat your heart out, for example Norway! On that boring old country’s national day, what do they parade? Children in new clothes, smiling and waving flags. And singing.
No tanks. No security. Not even a tiny fighter plane. No rounding up of dissidents. Anybody can watch the parade from wherever they please, even coming out on their balconies without being shot. Call yourself a national day?

Santa Claus Can Get Stuffed

Oh, how I love summer! I love heat, absence of snow … Of course, Hong Kong stands out among other world cities in always showing extreme absence of snow; therefore: I love Hong Kong! I went swimming just before last weekend’s typhoon was about to hit, and the water was actually cool. (Swimming in Hong Kong normally is like swimming in warm snot.)

I came out of the water looking like I had just spent three years in the trenches of First World War (including trench foot and trench nose) but it was certainly cooling and revitalising. No, I’ll say that again. I came out looking like I’d just spent a week in a sewer with a brownish green mud-like substance (human shit) running out of my nose and ears for the remainder of the day, but it was certainly … etc.

But I’m swimming again now after a 5 year hiatus - I’ve just learnt to push the flotsam out of the way not worrying too much that the Wellcome bag/plastic bottle/condom might actually be a stinging jellyfish.

So I include the above photo to remind everybody not to complain too much about the heat. Before you know it, the hounds of winter will be howling outside your doors again and then there will be no end of complaints about that.

Me, I love all the seasons of Hong Kong. All, I say! As long as it doesn’t snow. Which it won’t.

Virgin Flight

Ah, Virgin! Now there’s an airline. When I flew to Sydney and back with them over the weekend, I had the same feeling as when I bought a Mac. You could say a plane is a plane and economy certainly is economy, but when I saw the safety instructions being cartoons and faintly humourous, I felt this was an airline that spake onto me.

The copy in the selling things magazine was better than other airlines, and the choice of music and films astounding. They showed Flight Of The Conchords, my new favourite comedy. Check out Albi The Racist Dragon: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=00uaB51ivXU
The toilets were spacious and with flattering light - yes, yes, only Mac and Virgin for me now.

When I arrived in Sydney I got caught up in all sorts of quarantine tangles and it took an hour to go through immigration. Then I was dragged out of the queue to translate for a mainland tour group.
“Do you have any food with you?” “No.” “No?” “No.” “So what’s that?” It turned out they had nothing but food with them.

The immigration woman wanted me, primarily, to ask them why they had lied. I had to chuckle to myself. Because they’re not stupid, that’s why. When the truth was revealed, they lost all their food! And was talked to in baby language by twangy-voiced tattooed woman!

When I finally stumbled out of Sydney airport after an hour an a half I thought yet again fondly of HK’s fantastic getup - straight through and sitting in taxi 20 minutes after touch-down. Going home, the shuttle bus I had paid to pick me up at the hotel at 11, never showed up. At least not for the 40 minutes I waited. When the receptionist called, the driver said he had picked someone up from my hotel, someone with the same room number as me! Interesting. Advice: If the situation calls for a lie, you should lie well.

“The shuttle bus was viciously attacked by a swarm of wallabies, causing me to temporarily mislay my phone and marbles” would be a much better lie. Or how about: “Sorry, I forgot.” The amazing thing was the receptionist told me it had happened “many times before” but they still used the bus company!

Hong Kong, I love and love you, and never more than after I’ve been away and seen how crap other people’s service is. You know that TV commercial where Andy Lau pops up in a restaurant after a celery-related dispute between a waiter and a customer, to say “In this day and age, that kind of service attitude is not good enough?” He’d have a field day in Australia. And of course in Norway and other European countries.
But Virgin? Can’t be beat.

Differences - Causes To Wonder

Here are some of the differences between Hong Kong and Europe (”Europe” meaning Norway and a tiny piece of Britain called Heathrow) as noticed through a haze of zen-like indifference during my sojourn to Trondhjem, Norway, 13 to 23rd of August 2008.

1. Toilets. Hong Kong has a brand new airport with great, snazzy little trollies for carry-on luggage in the departure zone. Why oh why, then, aren’t the toilet cubicles designed to accommodate them? Well, you can get them in, but it’s a question of going into the cubicle, pulling the trolley in and lifting it up, draping it across the toilet bowl before you strecth over it and lock the door, standing on tiptoe. A lame design if there ever was one and not completely dissimilar to the thinking of the current administration.

On the other hand, Heathrow’s Terminal 5 has no trolleys at all! Insane!

2. Olympic Games. After about 5 days of Olympic Games here in Hong Kong, it’s really strange to get to Heathrow, glance at the covers of British papers and discover that not all Olympic athletes are Chinese. Indeed, that not everybody in the world is Chinese.

3. Air, water. Norway has both of those.

4. Children doing their stuff. Near my old childhood home there’s a folk museum full of old buildings from all over the country.

There’s a lot of grass, and one day I saw some schoolkids about 10 years old pour into the area, followed by two teachers. I had to stand and watch for a long time, for the kids were a beautiful sight to behold. As soon as they were through the gates, they started running around on the grass, doing cartwheels, handstands and somersaults.

The teachers stood  calmly talking to each other while the kids zipped around in complete exuberance and abandon. Some of them lay on the grass talking seemingly in deep earnest, others just ran. But mostly they were using the grass for gymnastic purposes with style and grace.

I couldn’t help thinking about a similar scene in Hong Kong: The kids would have been in school uniform and made to stand like robots, the teachers running hysterically around, shouting into megaphones. “Don’t touch the grass, you will DIE!” “It’s dirty!” “For your own safety, don’t move!” “Stand still, two and two together!” etc.

But of course, there wouldn’t be any grass in the first place.

Then I went to a nearby cafe to have a really bad sandwich and read the newspaper … and it cost more than HK$ 110.

Vive la difference.

Lame Thighs

When I was walking Piles this morning on the South Lantau Road, I came across a sign saying Road Works. Now, I’m sure you native English speakers out there would read this in your heads as “roadworks”, i.e. work that is being done to a road. But for me, a Norwegian, it looks like it’s the road doing the work. As in “this road works really hard”, or ” this road and my socks, that really works!

I think two separately written words should be uttered as two separate words. And thinking about this, I was reminded by a comment made by good old Fumier, in an earlier entry about the inflation in the word passionate, as in “passionate solutions”. He asked me if we have similar language transgressions in Norwegian.
And yes, we do. The biggest threat to the Norwegian language today is English. Like Cantonese, the Norwegian language has a word for everything, and yet the young people of today choose to use English words, with Norwegian pronunciation, where Norwegian would be both more than adequate and more fitting.

Norwegians have, for example, chosen to embrace the expression “from day one” (Fra dag en) instead of “from the first moment” which we used to say. There is no “day one” in Norwegian. Another glaring transgression is the direct translation of “a shock of hair.” In English it means “very thick hair” but translated directly into Norwegian, a custom which all editors of modern Norwegian books seem to let slide, it becomes “et sjokk av hår” which means an electric shock or a trauma, of hair.

But the worst part of the Anglification of the Norwegian language is word separation; the habit of writing compund words (like road works) as two words. In Norway we used to have a good grammatical rule: If the word is uttered in one output of breath (roadworks) it should be written as one word.

Now I know many English speakers laugh their (your) heads off at interminable compund words (compoundwords) in German, to which Norwegian is quite similar. Norwegian is probably half English, half German, but without the ridiculous capital letters for everything - in German at least only proper nouns have capital letters, but how about “to Google”? “the Islamification of the world”?

Anyway, in Norwegian, “road works” and “roadworks” are two different things. Word separation is there to clarify meanings. Like “aircon” and “air con” (making air cooler, as opposed to being cheated by air.)

There is a movement in Norway called Astronomer mot orddeling (astronomers against word separation) which is gaining ground. You will see why. Let’s take the word “pineapple rings.” Even in English that is ambiguous. In proper Norwegian (an adjective by the way, why the capital letter?): Ananasringer. Pineapple cut into rings. But with the new writing style (writingstyle) it becomes: Pineapple makes a phone call.

Then there’s “sugar lumps” - sukkerbiter, or in new parlance “sukker biter” which means “sugar bites.” Astronomers against word separation has a slew of examples of this, what they call aggressive foodstuffs. Sugar bites, chicken bites, even trees bite, according to these new Norwegian mad word separators.

There’s also Krabbe Klør (crab claws) which should be written “krabbeklør,” otherwise it becomes: “Crab Itches.”
Only a dash will do to keep a word from being obscene; a particularly nasty example is PC pult i lønn (should be PC-pult i lønn, which means PC desk made of … linden? some kind of wood,) but without the dash becomes “PC fucked in secret.”

You see where I’m going with this? English is all well and good, but it should be kept as English, not translated directly into other languages with its sometimes (often) insane grammar and syntax intact.

Røyking Forbudt! it says, or should say everywhere in Norway, as it means “Smoking Forbidden”. But even this one word, forbudt, which has never even been a compound word, these “New Norwegians” (the SMS generation) have managed to make Røyking For Budt! which means “smoking for (someone apparently called) Budt. An Indian perhaps? Nobody else is allowed to smoke, that’s for sure.

And the lame thighs? It should be Lammelår! (Thighs of lamb) not Lamme Lår (lame thighs)!!! The same goes for Lame Hearts and Lame Brains. But perhaps the latter isn’t so wrong after all. Certainly, Lame Brains are ruling the world today, whether it is in Norwegian, English or the lamest of lame brains, those of the Hong Kong government. And if you think (”feel “) I should spell “government” with a capital g, I say: Let the fcukers deserve a capital g first.

Frustrated About China Visa? Try Living In Norway

Norway, home of Grieg and Ibsen, skiing and Ole Gunnar Solskjaer. Land of herring, oil and herring in oil. On the surface beautiful and peaceful-ish, but try living there for half an hour and you’ll see a country running on molasses, not oil.

When I got married in 1991, my uncle sent me a card in 1993 to say that he’d been thinking of writing one for two years. By then my husband and I had already split up.

Everything they do is like that. It takes months to have a telephone installed, two weeks to have a jacket dry cleaned.

But that this Norwegian trait of reluctance to take action should spill over on the Chinese living there I would never have thought.

Two weeks ago I was happy and excited to get an email from TV2, Norway, asking if I wanted to be their guide dog, fixer and translater for the Beijing Olympics - at least for a preliminary program to be made the last two weeks of June.

I immediately started making arrangements; calling my Chinese contacts, trying to get someone to stay in my house for two weeks to look after Piles, looking up media-related words in Mandarin, that kind of thing.

Then, a week later came another email: “Oh, er, June may not happen now. I just got a letter from the Chinese Embassy with my visa application refused - I had sent them the wrong kind of photo.”

Fair enough - except she had applied for the visa in January!!!!!

So people of Hong Kong (and other places in China) - now we’re up in arms about the visa situation and quite rightly so. But at least we can get a visa. And at least we can get one in our lifetime.

 

Save Time! Put Two Proverbs Together!

One bird in the hand is better than two in the bush, OR as we say in Norwegian: better than ten on the roof. See how Norwegians think bigger, proverb-wise? So that means that two birds in the hand must be better than FOUR in the bush! (Or twenty on the roof) at which stage you can kill both of them with one stone. Saves a lot of time or what?

Talking of killing things with things; just like Norwegians think bigger, they are also more kind-hearted. For this cruel proverb doesn’t exist in Norway where they feed birds instead of killing them, with stones or anything else. 

No, in Norway it’s “Killing two flies with one whack.”

Here you see what you’re missing out on by being monolingual. This, and many other things.

Strange Action By China’s Government - For The First Time! Not!

I can’t understand this last antic of the Chinese government, that of not issuing any multiple-entry visas, not even for permanent residents of Hong Kong, until after the OLYMPICS, (a word that is fast becoming as tedious as the expression “Hong Kong - Asia’s World City.”)

What exactly is it they hope to achieve? Yeah all right, so they will make millions of yuan from all those who depend on going into the mainland several times a week or month for their livelihood, and who must now pay almost as much for one visit as they before paid for six months or a year’s worth.

But surely they could have got the same or almost the same money by changing the deal they have with that staunch upholder of public health and sports people’s staple, McDonald’s, OLYMPICS sponsor numero uno? After all, the Chinese government has (have, I never know which, help me people!) never been shy of backing down on or changing exorbitantly, deals?

If it’s money they’re after, one would think that by making it easier for people to get into China instead of harder, rich dividends could be reaped. (Raped)

Or is the new visa deal, where it now takes four days to be issued a visa instead of one, put into being so that the immigration people can search more carefully the background of the applicant to make sure that the seemingly innocent tourist isn’t in fact a rabid journalist who might report unfavourably on the situation in Tibet and other places?

Is the sudden decision not to let people be issued short-term visas on the border points between HK and China anymore (until the end of the OLYMPICS) to keep certain individuals who might otherwise have gone shopping, out? Just in case?

You can roll me in flour and fry me in butter as we say in Norwegian, but I still don’t understand. Wasn’t this whole OLYMPICS malarkey supposed to be all about China promising to become more open, let all journalists report freely, yes, even as mentioned in the news today, allow protesters to protest from a specially designed protester pen in the very heart of Beijing itself, or outskirts?

Today the ever reliable South China Morning Post, fortunately, came up with the answer to all the questions milling around in my head. The new visa situation is of course because the visa issuing office needs to upgrade its computer system.

Thank god - and here I was being suspicious again. Between now and, as it happens, the end of August, the computers, but of course, need to be taken care of. Now it all makes sense.  Well, ha-ha, my three-year multiple entry visa fortunately runs out not before -  August! 

So like all good Norwegians before me, after this Tibet crackdown thingy happened, I will be earnestly debating with myself whether or not I should boycott the opening ceremony of the OLYMPICS. And unlike those Norwegians, I will actually do it. That should teach them!