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>Who am I?
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Few things make your feel of identity shake as much as when I child begin to cry from the mere sight of you. This happened to me here in Tema, Ghana he other day. I had been out all day expanding my horizons and testing my own limits (can I eat this? do I dare to go in here? Can I find my way home from here?) As I step in to the house that is now my zone of comfort and where my mother-in-law resides as well as the place were I take in breakfast (coffe, bread and fruits) and often dinner, an old friend is there to greet me. Her daughter who as only a baby last time I was in Ghana is running around with her cousin. UNTIL…SHE SEES ME…HER EYES WIDEN..HER MOUTH OPENS…BIG TEARS FALL DOWN HER CHEEKS. At first she is very quiet but then
– UAAAAAAAAA!
We all laugh. But the child cannot be comforted. I try and talk to her. Her mother reassures I’m not dangerous. She can sit in her grandmothers lap. Still shaking from upset she now and then dares to take a peek at me.
Who is this fair creature with strange hair and a funny sounding language? What do my mother really know of her intentions?
Historically, the girl is indeed right to cry. What has the white person’s missions in Black Africa been?
By the end of the visit, the small girl has stopped crying, but still makes sure she is at all times at a security distance from myself. Her mother ties the child to her back and we follow them out – in Ghana every visitor is followed out, crying or not – but after a few steps mother and child return.
The mother explains:
– She said she wants to hug Obroni (white person). I am quite surprised by the flip side to the situation. However, as i hug the little girl on her mother’s back she starts crying again.
– UAAAAAAAAA!
>On books
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I was challenged to answer to this survey by blogger/friend Marta. So here we go:
I. A book that changed my life.
My diary.
II. A book I read more than once.
Love in the time of cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez. He is making it ALL UP, it is SO obvious that NO love story can EVER unfold like this. At the same time it’s touching and somehow believable.
III. A book I would like to bring to a deserted island.
Probably 100 love sonnets by Pablo Neruda, the pink edition with beautiful and sentimental love poetry in Spanish translated into English on the facing page. Then on my island, I’d learn the Spanish versions daytime by heart, later cry them out into the lonely and very black night and at the same time understand what I was screaming.
IV. A book that made me laugh.
A Rough Guide to Sweden. Jeez, it really gives a person some perspective to read travel books on her own country. This handy guide states that Sweden really just needs two days, one in Stockholm and one in Gothenburg…
V. A book that made me cry.
All the thick ones, ’cos I have separation anxiety (GWTW/Mitchell, Diva/Fagerholm, Anne of Green Gables/Montgomery, A little love song/Magorian)
VI. A book I wish had been written.
A coming of age story taking place in the echoing halls of Uppsala University, some romance at the student clubs called ”nations” and a strong heroine taking her own high road…
VII. A book I wish had not.
Little Birds by Anaïs Nin, a sequel to the wonderful and erotic Delta of Venus that has the quality of a, well, sequel.
VIII. A book I am reading now.
The American Girl by Monika Fagerholm, a Finnish-Swedish writer who makes up a new language for every book she writes, takes some getting used to, but I think the effects of when you just don’t read a persons story, but read their language is powerful (Ett Öga Rött by Hassan Khemiri had a similar effect).
IX. A book I plan to read.
Late in November by Tove Jansson. Aron said it was great and I trust his literary taste.
X. Pass the survey on to other bloggers…
I think that Mamma and Nadja should get it once they start their blogs.
AND SOME EXTRA FOR THE CHEAP SEATS IN THE BACK: A book I give to a friend any day.
The Daughters of Egalia by Gerd Brantenberg. This is how equal rights should be pursued; in a crazy-witty-fantastic literary description of what life would be like if everything was different. I’m just saying – the scene when Rut gives birth in the spotlight on a stage in the Birth Temple before she leaves to go out to celebrate with her friends! I believe in visualizing the absurd. So does Gerd.
>Internet Celebs
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When I first found out I had been chosen for an internship in Paris, I wanted to learn more about Paris. So I googled, I visited sites and I read blogs. I have already told you about one of my favourite webcamsites where one can see the Eiffeltower and some other Paris sites, updated by the second (including a university computer room!?)
Anyway, I soon found a blog that left me wanting more and soon it was like I was following a quality soap. I had to log in to see what was new in “Petite Anglaise’s” life. Waiting for “the new episode” becomes quite thrilling when you know that the wait is real time. Every other day there will be a new entry, and judging from the number and content of comments I am not the only one that somehow feel I know Petite ( she calls herself more familiarily just “Petite” nowadays).
She produces quirky, funny and sometimes sad obeservations on everydaylife in Paris. To give you all an idea of the content and the style of her writing (and to keep my soap analogy going) the other characters “on the set” are “Tadpole” – young daughter, “Mr Frog” – Petite’s ex, and “Lover”.
Since mid-January, I have been following Petite’s whereabouts and I feel like I know her like I know a celebrity – some of her lovelife and thoughts, artistry and family. However, still much of her life is hidden in privacy/secrecy. Last week, I decided to make my first comment on her blog, which was caused by seeing this ad (above) in every street corner in Paris. Are the ad-makers loving her blog too?
She replied instantly. Her email read simply:
“do you fancy coming to the blog meet up thing too? Now you are here?”
But my heart jumped. When was the last time a celebrity wrote you? To ask you to come to a party? I am very excited, this weekend I am meeting an Internet Celebrity! As a plus, I get to meet up with other ex-pat bloggers in Paris – and globalization spins another turn…