I guess there's no way to write this entry without acknowledging the facts as they are: My grandfather passed away this morning, around 3.30 my time, and I'm still having a difficult time letting the reality of the situation soak in. Tim, Richard and I watched the Netherlands v. Japan World Cup match this afternoon, which was a good idea for me since it gave me something else to focus on than the inside of my own head, but not even in Olsens Cafe could I really get away from the sadness. (The perpetually windy and rainy weather didn't help matters, either; it feels like London here right now.) My friends are looking forward to getting home to their families, and I'm still grappling with the knowledge that two precious personalities in my life won't be waiting for me in Huntsville. Granddaddy's death has reopened the hurt from Nanny's passing in February, but I feel like I don't have the time to properly grieve right now. I've got company this weekend. I'll have company next week. I've got to pack my belongings and mail some of it home. I've got to finalize all my travel plans while I'm in England and France next month. I've got to think about hunting for jobs. I've got to figure out how to send my UiO transcripts back home.
The week hasn't been all bad. On Tuesday I met up with my father's friend Peter Martin again, this time at his and his family's house in the Sinsen neighborhood outside of city center. He and his wife Hilde have a beautiful home with a very lovely, expansive garden; the massive white irises by the patio, in fact, come from roots nicked from Churchill's garden in the UK, which I thought was impressive. That was the first time in months that I've eaten proper meat not in the form of a kebab or pølse, too.
Tim and I went to the Holocaust museum out on Bygdøy on Wednesday, which turned out to be a bit of a cerebral adventure. It's housed in what used to be Quisling's mansion, something I considered very appropriate personally. Most of the exhibit was historical background information on Nazism in the Third Reich, which I already knew mostly by heart--and if I didn't, I'm sure "Frau" Dr. Johnson would be entirely justified in fussing at me. The information on national socialism in Norway was pretty fascinating as well, though I'm not sure how much of it I understood correctly; the whole exhibit was in Norwegian, with no English translations available. Nonetheless I was pretty impressed by my own ability to understand what I was reading. Apparently I've absorbed more "norsk" than I realized. Here's hoping I don't lose it when I go home.
Thursday I had my last barbecue with my Norwegian classmates Maggie, Corinna, and Taka, along with Corinna's boyfriend Benny and Maggie's classmate Carynn. Taka is staying here through September to work, but Maggie and Carynn went back to Germany with Corinna and Benny yesterday in order to start their epic European; it was a pretty bittersweet departure, but it seems like this whole week has been composed of farewells of one sort or another. Bastian, after our trip to Bergen, has gone back to Germany as well; Ray and Charlotte left this week as well on their own tour of Europe; once Daniel leaves on Monday, I don't know when I'll next see him. And, one of the farewells I'm dreading the most, both Tim and Mike leave next weekend, and I'll be here by myself, essentially, until leaving for England on July 4th.
I'll find ways to stay busy, of course. There are still lots of things I'd like to do here in the city, and if I'm feeling brave, I might take a trip down the fjord by train all by myself, to visit another city. It's not as though I dislike being alone. I tend to keep to myself a lot back in Huntsville.
This entry ended on a much sadder note than I'd intended. Sorry, can't help it right now. Maybe I'll feel better if Denmark defeats Cameroon tonight.
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