Marna Haugen Burøe er kjent for bloggen Komikerfrue, der hun gladelig deler fra livets oppturer og nedturer, og har spesialisert seg på å se ting fra den positive siden. I tillegg er hun gründer med egen neglesalong, nettbutikk, og hun designer egne smykker. Hun er ikke redd for å kaste seg ut i nye prosjekter, og hun sier som Pippi: «Det har jeg ikke gjort før, så det får jeg sikkert til!»
Se flere foredragsholdere, inspiratorer og grûndere på http://www.womentalk.no
We’ve been here exactly eight days and five hours and I have just come back after a two hour walk on the beach in the blasting rain, actually I think it rained horizontally more than vertically. Coming from the most rainy place in Norway (Bergen), a real shower was exactly what I needed to clear my mind and rinse my tear channels. Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
It’s just that I never expected it to be this complicated.
There are so many f…..ing things to worry about, to figure out, to deal with!
Why is there no warm water in the shower, for example! Or in the kitchen, for that matter? It’s not very fun having to first boil the water that is needed to rinse off plates, cutlery and casseroles, and then having to heat up water again in order to wash the damn things, and then once again, for a third time, having to heat water to rinse off detergent and soap from the clean dishes. Not to mention that this procedure must be repeated three times a day (after breakfast, lunch and dinner)! In case you wonder, the kitchen stove is a rather primitive one with only two-stovetops, so not possible to boil more than two casseroles of water at the same time.
Not to mention, why do I have to deal with a stranger I only met eight days ago, sleeping on the sofa in something that’s supposed to be our dining room/open kitchen?
The answer is that the stranger, who’s actual name is Ali, is our trusted guard who comes with the house. Apparently, there has been some incidents of agitation between locals from different villages on the island recently, and foreigners are particularly vulnerable in such situations. Clearly, I embrace the idea of having a guard to protect us. But how come our guard seems to sleep harder and longer than most of the other members of the household! In fact yesterday morning he was sound asleep as I got up to make myself a cup of tea in the morning, an incident which didn’t seem to disturb him whatsoever as he simply kept snoring.
I have asked myself why our guard sleeps on the sofa when all other guards in this village sit outside the house on a chair and stay awake. But I haven’t dared to ask him yet. Obviously I can relate to his preference for sleeping inside on a soft sofa rather than staying awake outside during the night on a chair. It’s just that I want us to be safe. And so far Ali is not doing a great job at ensuring me that he’s the right man for the job.
Actually, Ali is not the only stranger staying in the house with us. There is a woman who stays in a room next to the sofa. I’ve heard rumours she’s the sister of the wife of the owner of the house. I have barely met her, except one day when she was on her way into the shower (eh, the one with no warm water, a fact she probably was happily unaware of at that time…). Anyway, it didn’t exactly seem like the perfect context for a longer conversation so I just nodded and smiled at her. But I must admit I was quite taken by surprise. Peter tells me I should relax and not worry about it. There’s plenty of room in the house, he says and why should we not share it with someone in need of some sleeping space! Well, I kind of have to agree, and since I like to consider myself a modern and flexible person, I have decided try to look at the bright side of the situation. Thus, I am going to invite her for dinner the next time I see her. Perhaps she can become my friend and possibly help me get a bit adjusted to everyday life around the house and the village.
There are more things Peter tells me not to worry about that I find slightly disturbing. For example when I mentioned that there are colonies of aunts in the kitchen, and in our bedroom, he let me know that I should be happy that I now know where they are located (!) – At least now we know where they are, he laughed and showed no compassion for my light frustration.
When we drive into Stonetown, the center of the island tomorrow, I will be sure to bring back as much remedies that I can find that will fix things. The lack of warm water, however, seems a bigger problem.
What disturbs me the most, I think, is that it seems that Peter has forgotten that this is, if not my first trip to Africa, at least it’s the first time I move here with three kids. And that there simply are a few things one has to get in order, in order to feel relaxed and safe as a family.
I really wish I would have only great stories to share about our first week in paradise! But surely, staying at a hotel for two weeks and moving into a house for half a year are two very different things.
What I know for sure, though, is that this too shall pass, and that I will soon start doing yoga. I have to. I know it will help me. I just can’t feel so desperate, I have to get our life in order first.
Often, when you search for something, you find something else. Neem Karoli Baba
The sentence is from the first page of the first yoga book I have started to read.
I wonder what it means.
1st day in paradise after having arrived at our house on the beach in the village of Jambiani late last night. The kids have been awake since 06:00 a.m. (Considering the two hour time difference, it’s really only 04:00 a.m., Norwegian time.)
We forgot to bring sunscreen lotion, t-shirts and long sleeved shirts. Not so good, since the sun is already burning and all three are gone with the wind and nowhere to be seen. I wonder how long I can wait before I go looking for them. I’ve already started to worry that they may get a major sun burn – in fact, what if our first day in paradise will end up with 3 sunburnt kids in the hospital ?! (Yeah, I know, it’s probably not necessary to go there yet, but can’t help getting thoughts like this in my head. So, I decide to think sensibly instead, and to give them and myself until 10 a.m. before I start acting on the issue.)
There has been some minor troubles. For one, I can’t get water through the tap, neither in the shower nor in the toilets. Peter is still asleep, so can’t ask him for help. Oh, well, I’ve got drinking water on a bottle, and that’s really all I need for now. Hakuna matata.
On the upside, the locals have been here to offer us body massage, fruits and snorkling trips and that was before 08:30 a.m. They’re business minded and pushy, that’s probably a good thing. I bought a few mangos and coconuts and some bananas. It was very affordable, to say the least. And pretty cool having the freshest of fruits delivered on your door right after having been plucked, so to speak. Can’t wait to serve it for breakfast later.
Right now I am sitting on the veranda and there’s a wonderful breeze coming in from the most magnificently coloured ocean I have ever seen. I have great music plugged into my ears and I am alone, and at peace.
I have to pinch my arm. Now I am really here! Now WE are here. The family five. At Zanzibar. For the next half year. That dream that I drew on the sheet of paper in Dr. Carr-Ruffinos class fifteen years ago, is about to come true. It is really happening! So incredibly cool.
The trip went well. Even if there was a high stress factor. Peter was sick with the flue, which wasn’t exactly ideal since he was our “tourguide”, and the only one who was really informed about things like what hotel we were staying at in Dar Es Salaam, how to get through the chaos at the harbour when taking the boat out to Zanzibar, etc, but he managed to mobilize where it was necessary. The kids behaved well. It all worked out and no one became seasick on the boat out here.
(And clearly it must be possible to get sunscreen lotion here in the village!)
The sun really is amazingly strong. I have been outside looking for the kids, but nothing. They must have taken off far into the low tide and I am starting to worry big time. So much that I decide to take action. First, I manage to get Peter on his feet even if he, at first, assumes that I am overreacting. -They’ve been gone for a few hours, I explain. -What’s the story, how bad is the sun really, I ask.
The situation is not so good, apparently. Peter is usually not that quick out of bed, but now he is on his feet in an instant. As I head for the local shop in the village to bury sunscreen, he heads off into the beach to look for the kids.
“Everyone’s” asleep. We finally got fed, after having waited for the food for about two hours, even if it was just spaghetti and french fries! Africa- time, says Peter and it seems like we better get used to it.
Fortunately, the episode with the sun screen turned out not to be that big of a deal after all. Peter located the children out by the laguna, it’s where the low tide ends into a river like stream where it’s perfect to swim and dive and play. They hadn’t even noticed the burning sun themselves, so probably a good thing that they were picked up. I remind myself to be on guard. Even if this is the closest I’ve ever come to paradise, there are clearly dangers lurking in unexpected places.
Today we are going to Zanzibar (J J). Now we are sitting on the plane. Siv draws in her book and I am writing in mine. Mom is filling out things that must be filled out. Dad is sleeping. Tim is playing on his ipad. Siv is asking mom for food all the time. She bought some nice pens for us. I miss my friends Aurora, Benedickte, Anne Sofie, Marthe, Mathilde, Vilde. Soon we are in the Netherlands. There we are going to get on a different plane. Siv is eating a sandwich.
Now, 3 hours have passed. We were in the Netherlands. I am bored. It’s more than 5 hours left.
Now, it’s 4 hours left.
We just came to Kilmanjaro. Siv has a fork in her hair. It’s very warm here. A lot of people are boarding the plane. They are going to Amsterdam. We are not moving an inch. On the tv screen in front of us there is a picture of a plane. I wonder what they do at school now. Two ladies are coming on the plane. I have nothing to write. Yes, maybe I have. No, I haven’t. Siv is talking the whole time about all kinds of things.