<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1809549179418111409</id><updated>2011-04-21T14:20:37.245-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ingrid</title><subtitle type='html'>- på Madagaskar</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Ingrid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12707356860374048640</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/Sul9_3an02I/AAAAAAAAAtg/CNzwZhfTnYo/S220/_MG_6085.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>16</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1809549179418111409.post-3967985125636062333</id><published>2009-04-16T10:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T11:07:00.760-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to where I came from</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/SedwPALhx9I/AAAAAAAAAaU/iOnu81-iehs/s1600-h/Akama+og+Vohipeno+221.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/SedwPALhx9I/AAAAAAAAAaU/iOnu81-iehs/s200/Akama+og+Vohipeno+221.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325348487437600722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We went to Vohipeno, we cut rice, we went to Farafangana, killed a turkey, went up the river in a lakana (boat made of a log), went back to Sab-Nam, had a great picnic with the English Club on Saturday, a hectic Sunday - last day in Ebenezera, our church, went to a scout meeting, then back to Ebenezera to the choir’s concert. After saying good bye to both people and working places we left. Left to the airport, left the country. Left France, left Holland and finally arrived in Norway, in Bergen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s strange to be back. Strange to put Madagascar behind me and strange to feel how Norway is after being away for quite a long time. Afraid I will forget what I have experience&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/SedwPtyN-2I/AAAAAAAAAac/6oxywvCZBqM/s1600-h/CIMG2645.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/SedwPtyN-2I/AAAAAAAAAac/6oxywvCZBqM/s200/CIMG2645.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5325348499679476578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;d, to leave what I have accomplished behind. All the things I have learned, all the challenges I have had and everything I got from handling them. Will I be the same as I was when I left in October? Or will I be able to take with me all I have learned? I hope I will. I hope I can take all the good things from Madagascar, from me in Madagascar, with me here. When I’m at Hald, when I come home and in the time after when I don’t know what I will do with my life.&lt;br /&gt; It has been the best time in my life and I have got so many good memories. I’ll definitely try to go back as soon as possible.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1809549179418111409-3967985125636062333?l=haldingrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/feeds/3967985125636062333/comments/default' title='Legg inn kommentarer'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1809549179418111409&amp;postID=3967985125636062333' title='0 Kommentarer'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/3967985125636062333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/3967985125636062333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/2009/04/back-to-where-i-came-from.html' title='Back to where I came from'/><author><name>Ingrid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12707356860374048640</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/Sul9_3an02I/AAAAAAAAAtg/CNzwZhfTnYo/S220/_MG_6085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/SedwPALhx9I/AAAAAAAAAaU/iOnu81-iehs/s72-c/Akama+og+Vohipeno+221.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1809549179418111409.post-8153627917834740997</id><published>2009-03-22T05:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T05:44:57.723-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Saturday</title><content type='html'>First, some news: after a meeting with both Ravalomanana and Rajoelina (Andry), and the leaders of the church, military etc, Rajoelina left the meeting when Ravalomanana declared that he would resign and give the power to some of the high military leaders. When these news spread to the soldiers standing out side the chaos begun. They support Rajoelina and did not agree with the new decision. They kidnapped three generals and two other members of the meeting and these three generals gave the power to Rajoelina later that evening. So now there’s a new president here who really shouldn’t be. France is now the only country still supporting Madagascar financially, except from private organizations, and also the only country who has agreed to Rajoelina as the new president. So now we’ll just have to see what’ll happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then, to the headline - Saturday. It was a strange day. First, Friday night actually, Jens and I were invited to join the declaration of Rajoelina as the new president. I really wanted to go to see what would happen, but as it then would seem like we support him and we probably would have been filmed by the TV stations we decided that it would be better not to go. Bonde and Daniel however went there and were going to buy the ingredients for the Malagasy food we were going to have in the evening. We always cook Malagasy food on Saturday. &lt;br /&gt; After kids’ English  Club Luc, our good friend from English Club, joined us after playing volleyball. We invited him to join us for dinner in the afternoon. That he stayed for many hours didn’t really surprise us much but when I came home after going to the cyber café and the marked and was told that two of my students from CEG had been looking for me, wanting to take a picture, I was a bit amazed. They should come back at 14.00. I was also a bit sick, I still am, so the resting I needed didn’t really happen. When it was close to 14.00 I went out to look for the girls but I only saw a boy standing in the gate. 15 min later I went out again. Still only the boy there. As Jens had washed his clothes and it started to rain he went out to take them in. and when he came back he was not alone. The boy from the gate was with him, it was one of his students from Aka.Ma - the deaf school! Now it was not only Luc, and Thomas who also showed up, who were visiting, but a deaf guy as well. At least Jens was there and I could take a rest. Now I saw that my students had arrived - no time for rest. I went out and was not surprised to see “number 16”, Fabiola, who might be the student who likes me he most, was one of them. Unfortunately they don’t speak English very well and I of course don’t speak Malagasy very well. We took some pictures and I was tired and wanted them to go, even though it was really sweet of them to come visit. They asked it they could see the house and on our way in we met Jens and the deaf guy on their way to the marked. Luc had gone home and Thomas was on his way to the choir. I showed them to the living room where I played the guitar for them and taught Fabiola some chords. Luckily Jens came back, this time with a girl as well - the friend of the deaf guy, also deaf! Nor Bonde and Daniel were at home and we had to handle this on our own: four visitors who would stay for who knew how long. We started playing card game and this worked out really well and then Daniel and Bonde came back. My students fortunately had to go home right after and I finally got the tome to rest a bit. Jens’s party stayed for a while longer but eventually they went home as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For you international students this might sound quite ordinary and normal bur for us it was strange. We did not expect it. But was nice! The day really didn’t go as planned but hey, we’re in a new culture, isn’t this what we’re supposed to experience? It indeed was a strange day but a good one as well. Especially for Jens who got the good news that he and Øyvin, and Brigitte (ettåring), are going to Mahajanga to join the Shalom boat. Next week Arnhild and I will go to Antsirabe on Thursday/Friday and then we’ll go to Vohipeno to visit Preben (ettåring)! Some great least weeks lies ahead!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1809549179418111409-8153627917834740997?l=haldingrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/feeds/8153627917834740997/comments/default' title='Legg inn kommentarer'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1809549179418111409&amp;postID=8153627917834740997' title='1 Kommentarer'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/8153627917834740997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/8153627917834740997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/2009/03/saturday.html' title='Saturday'/><author><name>Ingrid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12707356860374048640</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/Sul9_3an02I/AAAAAAAAAtg/CNzwZhfTnYo/S220/_MG_6085.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1809549179418111409.post-5824754581203263594</id><published>2009-03-16T00:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T00:54:19.867-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Close to the finish line</title><content type='html'>Wow - 28th of January: my last blog. I'm really sorry for those of you who have been interested in knowing how I'm doing! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The political situation is worse than ever and it seems like it will never end. We have been without work since my last blog, didn't get a proper infield and have just been stuck here doing basically nothing. But we're all fine and nothing bad has happened. i lost my wallet though, that was quite bad, but that's what happens when everybody tries to get out of the bus at the same time. I didn't get hurt or anything so it could've been much worse. &lt;br /&gt; As me and Jens are in charge of the English Club we’re the ones with the most work. Therefore Arnhild and Øyvin went to Antsirabe to work with Birgitte, the ettåring, these last weeks. Jens and I might go there in a week or so, but who knows if the roads will be blocked or what. So for now we’re just staying here and I am enjoying the last weeks - my last chance to talk to people and appreciate this fantastic country before I go home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m sorry this is quite short, but I’ll try to update soon, and then a bit longer. We’re still fine and I love it here!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1809549179418111409-5824754581203263594?l=haldingrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/feeds/5824754581203263594/comments/default' title='Legg inn kommentarer'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1809549179418111409&amp;postID=5824754581203263594' title='1 Kommentarer'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/5824754581203263594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/5824754581203263594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/2009/03/close-to-finish-line.html' title='Close to the finish line'/><author><name>Ingrid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12707356860374048640</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/Sul9_3an02I/AAAAAAAAAtg/CNzwZhfTnYo/S220/_MG_6085.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1809549179418111409.post-1774813027998086914</id><published>2009-01-28T00:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T01:05:48.765-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snot, political crises and running time</title><content type='html'>Sneezing, snot, fever, coughing - the flue. Completely normal at least once  during the Norwegian winter. And guess what? It exists  in Madagascar as well. At least I was able to get it. Who thought of bringing warm clothes to Africa? Not me, for sure. So when the sun sets, or is just gone for the whole day because of the rain season, it gets cold. And then I get cold. And eventually I get sick as well. So after eating a lot of new food, been many dirty places and in a really different country than Norway the one thing that brings me down is the flue. &lt;br /&gt; So here I am, with a regular illness, just like home. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in the middle of this the government has gone crazy. The president decided to close the TV-station of the mayor, his biggest rival. This of course resulted in big demonstrations. When he then chose to also close his radio station things didn’t become better. So now there’s been a lot of protesting against the president and the town is not the safest place anymore. So it seems like I’ve chosen a good time to be sick, as we’re not able to go to work this week and are just staying in Sabotsy-Namehana. Here it’s safe. So except from little milk, oil and butter, as the president has got monopoly on these things and his warehouses have been robbed, we’re doing just fine. Relaxing and doing nothing. For the first time since I got home from Mahajanga I’ve actually cleaned my room properly: folded my clothes nicely and put them in my suitcase. Put up the mosquito net and made my room nice again. So being stuck here is not totally bad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I’m good. We’re good. Madagascar is wonderful and I’m starting to realize that this won’t last forever. Just as I was on my way to get here four moths ago, I’ll soon be on my way back home again. They say that the time is coming here in Africa, it’s not just passing by fast, like in the western world that we know. But I think the time is passing by pretty fast here as well. Sometimes even running. It seems like just a month ago Arnhild and I went to Mahajanga. And it seems like only a couple of days ago we were wondering about how it would be so start working again when we came back to Sab-Nam. And now January is closing up, we have only a couple of days left and then the boys will come back, Monica will come and infield will start. Hopefully, if things don’t get worse. With a packed program time is always running by. And our program is packet. So soon infield will be finished. Soon we’ll go to Antsirabe to join the missionaries’ meeting. Soon I’ll turn 20 and soon we’ll go home. And what then? May be then I’ll have the culture shock I never really got here, when I come back to Norway. Will much have changed? how much will I have changed? I don’t know. &lt;br /&gt; It makes me think. Wonder. About the future. About all the things we experience. If everything will just pass by and be forgotten.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1809549179418111409-1774813027998086914?l=haldingrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/feeds/1774813027998086914/comments/default' title='Legg inn kommentarer'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1809549179418111409&amp;postID=1774813027998086914' title='4 Kommentarer'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/1774813027998086914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/1774813027998086914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/2009/01/snot-political-crises-and-running-time.html' title='Snot, political crises and running time'/><author><name>Ingrid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12707356860374048640</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/Sul9_3an02I/AAAAAAAAAtg/CNzwZhfTnYo/S220/_MG_6085.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1809549179418111409.post-6515361784806262919</id><published>2009-01-16T01:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-16T01:42:57.268-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Start of a new year</title><content type='html'>Back to Sab-Nam. Two weeks has already past, quite quickly as well. Suddenly I’m in the middle of work everyday, planning, teaching, spending too many hours stuck in traffic jam.. The everyday life is back to normal but still things are changed. I have some new working places: Mondays I’m joining Arnhild at Faravohitra, a sort of girl’s prison for young girls who have committed minor crimes or are just being punished by their parents. It seems to be a quite sad place. Too many girls in a place with too little space. May be it is for them but for us, visiting them, it’s one of the best times during the week. These girls are so full of love and joy that it’s hard to understand what they possible could have done wrong. &lt;br /&gt; The other new working place I have is Ilofav, the women center. My first day is on Monday and I’ll teach English there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got an e-mail. Asking me to write an article about being a disciple. My first thought was “Huh?  I’m not a disciple, I’m just a volunteer worker or something…”. But then I started to think about what is written in the Bible. That we should trust in God and let Him use us the way He wants to. Let Him lead us. And I look at my life: I just finished high school. I play the guitar and sing, just not when people are listening, I have no experience in leadership when it comes to leading Christian meetings, preach, etc. then I look at my life here: I’m a teacher, an authority, and at CEG, only one of my working places, I’m in charge of 53 students. 53! And some of them are only a couple of years younger than me. I’m the leader of English Club, where I teach English worship songs, meaning that I have to both sing and play the guitar. In front of people. I’m also responsible for the Bible Study we have each week. I’m doing things I never would have thought that I could do. And I do it every day. New challenges, new things that’s way outside my comfort zone. And the strength does not come from me.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“But He said to me: "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 Cor 12:9&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1809549179418111409-6515361784806262919?l=haldingrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/feeds/6515361784806262919/comments/default' title='Legg inn kommentarer'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1809549179418111409&amp;postID=6515361784806262919' title='5 Kommentarer'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/6515361784806262919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/6515361784806262919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/2009/01/start-of-new-year.html' title='Start of a new year'/><author><name>Ingrid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12707356860374048640</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/Sul9_3an02I/AAAAAAAAAtg/CNzwZhfTnYo/S220/_MG_6085.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1809549179418111409.post-1726299310169471108</id><published>2008-12-16T05:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-16T06:00:52.561-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sea, healing spit and shower in the open</title><content type='html'>I felt the first tickling in my stomach as I smelled the salty air sitting in the taxi brousse. It was the first time I having that feeling for å long time, I didn’t even have it when we arrived in Tana two months earlier. But now we were here, in Mahajanga. With the sea. And the fresh salty breeze. Though it was nigh, and dark, it was beautiful. The smell made it beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After some days at Shalom’s office, sleeping in the bungalow and getting to know Per Ørjan and Guro the time came to go on the boat. This project is mainly for the Muslims here in Madagascar and the villages on the coast with no road connections. The goal is to establish school, “green schools”, that will teach the children how to do some simple agriculture, as well as introducing them to Jesus and Christianity. They also try to make the medical care better by having nurses or doctors staying there. The evangelists in each village visit homes of the inhabitants to pray and talk with them.  And this, we were going to be a part of.&lt;br /&gt; We left Saturday night, 6th of December. That night we slept out side on the deck, watching the thousand stars shining above us. It was peaceful and stunning. At four in the morning the rain came and we had to move in. It was much hotter in there but tired as we were we fell asleep again. &lt;br /&gt; The following day was spent on the boat, as we went to the village the furthest away first. Arnhild unfortunately got a bit sick, but we still had a great day seeing dolphins as well right next to the boat! They were there for a long time, at least five, and it was really exciting seeing them so close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the first village we started out playing with the children on the beach. They really enjoyed it, though they did not understand much of the song as we played “bro bro brille”. We also visited the evangelist.  He lived next to the green school and a well FLM built some years ago. We went with him to visit some people far away from the village with him, Feno and a shepherd (they were on the boat with us).  We also taught English at the green school and the pupils were very happy to have us there and we had a really great time.&lt;br /&gt; The next village was much hotter than the first one. We walked through the woods to get to the school and it was really hot. There we taught English as well and played with them. We played “frukt salat” (fruit salad) only with the Malagasy colors and it was so much fun. In the afternoon we were going to play again. When we showed up and the guy who went with us told the children on the beach that we wanted to play with them an old lady sitting close by started yelling and almost all the children ran away. It was clear that she didn’t want us to play with them! The guy who came with us then disappeared and we were left on our own. After a short while he came back and not alone. He had been to the school getting almost all the children and luckily they wanted to play with us! After a round of “bro bro brille”, with most people from the village watching us. When we moved to a more flat place to play “slå på ringen” our audience followed and soon even more people joined to watch, shouting and laughing. It was such a great time but unfortunately I got two huge blisters under my right foot, probably because I was running in the very hot sand. Making a small hole in them to get out the water also resulted in getting much mud in the following morning when the water was low and there was a long distance from the small boat to the beach with water and mud. Almost carried by Feno and Arnhild I finally reached the beach and was able to rinse the open wound. And of course this became the happening of the day and my audience was big. Luckily I brought my “Mac Gyver”-box with me so I had everything I needed to clean it. These wounds made certain other events happen as well, like being carried from the boat and to the other times the water was low by one of the guys on the boat. My dignity is almost gone and I felt really helpless and handicapped. If I only had known the language better I could at least have made some jokes about it. but I don’t and he didn’t speak any English so there was nothing for me to do about the humiliating silence but laugh a bit. The best part was may be still the little stop we had to fill water in another village on the way. Here we had a quick visit to the public school which resulted in a call to a local healer, apparently with a spiritual gift: his spit would heal wounds caused by fire and heat. So after making sure that the skin was whole in the wound and nothing was open, this man started spitting on the sole of my foot. Pretty grouse, and it didn’t help either, but it was a funny experience!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last village was really beautiful and also the biggest of them all. After visiting the other villages we had gotten quite use to having no other toilet than the nature and that the shower was in side some walls of palm branches. In this village the shower however was different. It was a well in the middle of an open field. Just like Adam and Eve we stood there in the open, feeling the warmth of the sun as we showered. It was pretty special, and really nice actually. Why go skinny dipping when you can skinny shower?! :D&lt;br /&gt; As most of the inhabitants were planting rice we went back to the boat a bit earlier. On our way back the rain came. Just like in Bergen it was a lot of water falling down. Unfortunately we had to go quite far with the little boat to get to Shalom but we’re in Africa and in Africa people show good hospitality. So to escape from the rain we hid under the roof of the outside terrace of a house we passed by. Soon the children living there came and invited us in so I can only imagine the surprise of their mother when she came in and saw to white people and a whole lot of others sitting on the floor talking and enjoying them selves. Though we escaped the worst rain we still got pretty wet on our way back, after yet another perfect day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve definitely had the best time till now on that boat, those ten days. I really didn’t realize how much I love and missed the sea before I was sitting on the boat, feeling the waves and the fresh breeze. Except from the water dripping down in the beds when the rain fell down I easily could have stayed there for many more days. Even if it was dripping I think I could. I know I could. I’m definitely going to try to get back here some day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1809549179418111409-1726299310169471108?l=haldingrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/feeds/1726299310169471108/comments/default' title='Legg inn kommentarer'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1809549179418111409&amp;postID=1726299310169471108' title='0 Kommentarer'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/1726299310169471108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/1726299310169471108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/2008/12/sea-healing-spit-and-shower-in-open.html' title='Sea, healing spit and shower in the open'/><author><name>Ingrid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12707356860374048640</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/Sul9_3an02I/AAAAAAAAAtg/CNzwZhfTnYo/S220/_MG_6085.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1809549179418111409.post-7820140336551157481</id><published>2008-11-15T20:24:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-21T22:54:51.900-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kokebok og måpefjes</title><content type='html'>Wednesday morning, 12. November, and it's my first day at CEG, the secondary school where I'll be working. Fortunately Øyvin and I will have the same grade, 5th grade, so it'll be easier to prepare together. We've already prepared what to do and look forward to the first lessons, starting with English club for the teachers as er were told to days before. Evelyn , the principals secretary, meets us when we get there. I'm going to have 5th grade and Øyvin 4th grade. No, this is not the same grade. Apparently are these kind of changes completely normal, at least it doesn't seem like she's aware of the changes being done. We then ask how it'll be when i go to Mahajanga in December, when i won't be able to teach my class. Not a problem at all, she tells us, because they've found a great solution: Øyvin's going to have my class and another teacher will have his. Huh? Easy solution! ;) &lt;br /&gt; We separate and are taken to our class rooms. The teaching is BEFORE the teacher's English club. I enter the class room and excited eyes are looking my way to see me, the new vazaha-teacher. «Good morning, teacher», 52 voices greeting me, everyone now standing. «Good morning, pupils» is my answer back, feeling my heart beat a bit faster that before. I walk towards my desk while Evelyn tells them to sit down again. Which I forgot to tell them. She shows me the book where I'm going to write down who's missing and what we've been doing during the classes and then leaves me alone with these 52 children, between 11 and 15 years old. I read all the names on my list, the Malagasy names, which are not very easy to pronouns, and they are all laughing. I imagine that we're having a good time! At least I am. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's time to start teaching and I find my book and try to communicate that we're going to use the book and if they have brought them. All of them are staring back at me, with a typical «måpefjes» (a kind of lost-look), as I would say in Norwegian, and it doesn't seem like they've laid eyes on the English book before this day. Then three boys run out of the class room to get them, apparently the books are kept in the library. I open my bag to take out my Malagasy copy book to have some easy phrases in front of me. It would just have been a bit easier if the book didn't say «kokebok for Ingrid» (cooking book). Oh yes, I had brought the wrong book. My body turn colder as I realize that I only have the Malagasy words I remember, which are not so many. As many of you might know, reading, practicing and remembering vocabulary is not one of my strengths. I pray that it'll work out OK anyway.&lt;br /&gt; The books have arrived in the class room and I start by asking them what the bird is doing? No response, they don't understand a single word I'm saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This whole situation is starting to get a bit ridiculous. I don't understand what they're saying and they don't understand what I'm saying. I try one more time. «What is this?» pointing at the bird, «Inona ity?». «Vorona!» loud and clear from everyone. At least I learn a new word, one that I've written down and should know but don't. I write on the black board «a bird – vorona» and we're starting. «The bird thinks», «The bird flies» and something as difficult as «The bird drinks water from the pot». The surprising part is actually that it's the youngest pupils who actually understand the most and are most eager to answer. My confidence is getting better when at least some of them understand. I learn some more Malagasy words, they spell them for me when I write on the board and they copy and hopefully learn some English words as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's 08:53 and it's closing up to the break. They're now finished with their work and until it's 08:55 and the break starts, we've been able to communicate that the class is over and that they can go. I'm exhausted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1809549179418111409-7820140336551157481?l=haldingrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/feeds/7820140336551157481/comments/default' title='Legg inn kommentarer'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1809549179418111409&amp;postID=7820140336551157481' title='4 Kommentarer'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/7820140336551157481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/7820140336551157481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/2008/11/kokebok-og-mpefjes.html' title='Kokebok og måpefjes'/><author><name>Ingrid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12707356860374048640</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/Sul9_3an02I/AAAAAAAAAtg/CNzwZhfTnYo/S220/_MG_6085.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1809549179418111409.post-551238593566206172</id><published>2008-11-06T20:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-06T20:41:27.185-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Work</title><content type='html'>Ok, long time no see (or written). I'm still bad at updating!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Short list of news:&lt;br /&gt;We baught animals: one duck each (two dead, two left), one chicken, one cat and one rabbit. I'm the lucky owner of one of the two surviving ducks, Jakob, and a rabbit, Peter (in eng, Petter in norwegain).&lt;br /&gt;We've visited all of our working places.&lt;br /&gt;We've started working.&lt;br /&gt;We've been teaching the board of FKTLM (youth department of the lutheran church here) about leadership.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working places:&lt;br /&gt;Behororika, a center for young women and teeage girls who want to be housmaids etc. We will teach them basic hygiene, some dishes and some handcraft. &lt;br /&gt;Faravohitra, an institution for under age girls who's done som minor crimes or who are just being punished by their parents for doing something wrong. Doesn't sound very nice to me. I feel sorry for them but it's probably better than going to jail anyway.&lt;br /&gt;ILOFAV, a women's centre  where women learn how to cook, some english and computer skills, handcraft, etc. Øyvin and i will start working there after Christmas&lt;br /&gt;CBN (Club de la Bonne Novelle). This organization works with sone institutions for under aged boys who have done some minor crime, drug addicts, etc. &lt;br /&gt;Akama, a school for deaf children and teenagers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've also gotten a new friend these past days: Preben, the «ett-åring», here in Mada this year. He stayed for dinner and also joined thte English club with the Bible stydy in the evening. It was really nice! Unfortunately he's going to work quite far away from here but we all hope we'll get to see more of eachother during these 5 months we have left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yesterday was my first workingday for real. English Club is also work, but still a bit different. Anyway, we were all at  Akama, the deaf school. While Øyvin and Jens Jørund had sports with the oldest students Arnhild and I were with the youngest. We made paper cards (you fold and cut paper, glue it to another paper and fold it like a card. Then when you open it it's like a face with a mouth. Very fun!;) ). This was a great success and the children are so lovley! We had three different classes, one hour in each group.. The fact that we didn't have to worry about our malagacy skills was also quite good. Though the reason why in it self is bad. &lt;br /&gt; But we had a really great time and I'm really looking forward to next thursday when we're working there again. It's a pity we're only working there once a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After eating some wierd, and quite bad malagacy food (no offence, but it was some kind of mashed leafs, cooked. And rice, of course. And some meat. The leafs were not very good, and they were the main dish) we went back home to Sab-Nam. At 17.30 we were let in to the living room to have our presentation about leadership and youth in Norway. This presentation was supposed to last for quite a while and how to teach about leadership without really any experience? This was a dilemma for me. But we did well all of us, talking in english with Daniel translating everything. It was really touching that these people, the board of the FKTLM wanted us to teach them about leadership, aks us for advices and help.&lt;br /&gt; After the presentation, at the end of the meeting, it suddenly became a huge foto session with us «vazaha»s. My smily-muscels were quite exhausted afterwards and acctually hurt a bit. But it's nice to be appriciated so much. The malagacy people are so nice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; I realize more and more that I really like it here. Of course things are different, but mostly in a good way. There's so much joy and eager to learn from these people. They work so hard and are always smiling and cheerful. They are a blessing for the world and I'm really happy that I've got the opportunity the get to know some of them. Thank you, Lord.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1809549179418111409-551238593566206172?l=haldingrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/feeds/551238593566206172/comments/default' title='Legg inn kommentarer'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1809549179418111409&amp;postID=551238593566206172' title='5 Kommentarer'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/551238593566206172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/551238593566206172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/2008/11/work.html' title='Work'/><author><name>Ingrid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12707356860374048640</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/Sul9_3an02I/AAAAAAAAAtg/CNzwZhfTnYo/S220/_MG_6085.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1809549179418111409.post-479046906813308031</id><published>2008-10-22T02:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T02:23:24.602-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm still alive!</title><content type='html'>I see I'm on my way to be a really bad blogger. Actually I'm already there. When I check everyone else's blog there's always something new that's been written about. I have one post so far. The reason? Hm. May be because going to the internet café is not the easiest thing to do, especially not now that we have started the Malagasy courses. Also it's not the best connection so uploading pictures is not possible. Also, there's a lot going on most of the time so sitting down, trying to write something good is not that easy either. My excuses are many, I know. The main thing however is probably the fact that I'm having a really good time. So it's not necessary for me to go to my room, being introvert and writing stuff. It's more fun to be around people and experience the culture. So I'm sorry if there's anybody out there who wants more updates! I'm going to try to get better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;News since last blog: many, when I think about it. The last blog was a long time ago. Anyway, I have got a Malagasy phone number!!! +261 0326 1942 69. if you want to call me, drop the 0 in the beginning (= +/00261 326 1942 69).We've also finally bought the «moov» usb-internet-thing, so now we don't have to go to the internet café. Yes, it's a luxury object but in Mahajanga we would probably be without internet at all if we didn't buy this thing and it would also be very hard, if not impossible, to upload pictures and files/assignments in mails etc. So I think it's for the best. And hopefully I'll be able to show some pictures soon, from this wonderful land!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;During the weekend Arnhild and I had a girl's trip to Antsirabe, the town where she spent most of her childhood. We stayed at the Norwegian school. There were less people there now than when she lived there but it was still a very nice place. It became a weekend with swimming (at a hotel), sun bathing and pousse pousse! We also had 6 hours on the bus (3 each way), squeezed in between two seats at high speed! With no security belts of course. T so charming, and that's not a ironic joke! The buses are some of the most charming things here, though in a hurtful way. We also ate morbær, sorry, I don't know the English word, but the berries from a tree like Sakkeus was sitting in! I enjoyed that. They were really sweet and good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it's only two weeks left before we start working. For now it's just Malagasy courses, KRIK and English Club. I think everyone know about KRIK/CHRISC; sports and fun, followed by a prayer in the end. This event is for everyone as long as they follow the rules. English Club however is a group of young people gathering to speak, practice and improve English.  They meet every Tuesday, Thursday and Friday, and we were lucky enough to accidentally see them in the living room our first day here. We were invited in and have joined them since then. I'm really impressed by their efforts. They speak English all the time! All the time. If there's a word someone doesn't understand, the others try to explain it to them, in English! I don't think that would ever happen in Norway. We would rather like the explanation in Norwegian. This policy also makes it easier for us. &lt;br /&gt; To get some structure we put together a plan for the days, so that every Tuesday we have «Bible study», Thursday «Listening and singing» (mostly Christian songs) and Friday «English in daily life» (discussions etc).  We divide into smaller groups so that everyone gets the chance to speak.&lt;br /&gt; These evenings are some of the best things I do down here. Especially thursday when we had our first time of «listening and singing». I sang «The heart of worship» and «Majesty» to them. We had written the texts on the white board so it was easer for them to follow. Afterwards we talked about the song's meanings and explained. Then we all sang the song together. Everyone with their Malagasy dialect, some differences in the melody and in a language they don't know that well. So touching. And this was not the end of the night. When English club was finished the four of us, and Daniel, spoke to Pastora Haja, the general secretary in the youth department in the Lutheran Church. Afterwards we were served a nice supper of chicken, some tomatoes and onions and of course rice! To drink we got what I think is quite typical for Madagascar, the remaining boiled water from the cooked rice. No, it was not the best drink I've tasted but I was able to drink it anyway. It was a night to remember! And I think we'll have many more!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1809549179418111409-479046906813308031?l=haldingrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/feeds/479046906813308031/comments/default' title='Legg inn kommentarer'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1809549179418111409&amp;postID=479046906813308031' title='2 Kommentarer'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/479046906813308031'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/479046906813308031'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/2008/10/im-still-alive.html' title='I&apos;m still alive!'/><author><name>Ingrid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12707356860374048640</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/Sul9_3an02I/AAAAAAAAAtg/CNzwZhfTnYo/S220/_MG_6085.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1809549179418111409.post-8257860611098160211</id><published>2008-10-07T06:48:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-07T06:50:17.787-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Madagascar</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="CONTENT-TYPE" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;title&gt;&lt;/title&gt;&lt;meta name="GENERATOR" content="OpenOffice.org 2.4  (Win32)"&gt;&lt;style type="text/css"&gt; 	&lt;!-- 		@page { size: 21cm 29.7cm; margin: 2cm } 		P { margin-bottom: 0.21cm } 	--&gt; 	&lt;/style&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" lang="en-US"&gt;Then it was time for some new here from Madagascar.  I will write in English (though there probably will be some really bad expressions etc) so that it will be possible for my international friends to read as well.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" lang="en-US"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" lang="en-US"&gt;After many hours on the plane we finally arrived here in Tana. It was dark, in the middle of the night, so we didn't see much other than lights. Then finally, after getting our suitcases (of course the lats ones), we got to meet Daniel and Helisoa! It was so nice to have some one waiting for us when we, kind of lost, entered the arrivial hall. We then got into the taxi and drove, really fast, to the youth center, our home for the next six months!&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" lang="en-US"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" lang="en-US"&gt;«Haianemann, jeg er i Afrika!», some of the first things going through my mind as I woke up Thursday morning. One of the first things that hit me when I looked out the window was that yes, Madagascar has the red/brown color of the earth but it is also so green and fresh! So many trees and plants that makes the land so extremely beautiful. Also, the people here are so beautiful. Everyone is pretty and the children are so cute! And people are so nice. Smiling and excited to see us and pointing: «vazaha», foreigner (white skinned).&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" lang="en-US"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" lang="en-US"&gt;We got more gas for the stove, after 4 hours of making dinner and still the water did not boil, so now the food is really nice. And we still haven't been sick. The three big cockroaches in the bathroom are dead and the small ones in our not-working fridge are not a big problem. We have also had our first 4 ½ hours long church ceremony, in a language we don't understand, singing songs were we are only able to pronouns some words and sitting squeezed together like never before. Except on the buss to town.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" lang="en-US"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" lang="en-US"&gt;Today, 6&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; of October, we have had our first day in Antananarivo (Tana). We went to the NMS office and met Berit Romarheim, one of the two Romarheims who will be kind of our contact persons as well. They will talk to us individually and, as Daniel and Helisoa, take good care at us. We came to their house near by NMS's office in the afternoon and were served Norwegian waffles! Perfect. They are so nice and we really had a good day. Getting up at 6 in the morning, taking the bus at 6.30 and then home again 12 hours later! What a day. We are all really tired! :) Tana is really exciting but I'm glad we live outside the center. It is not so crowded here and also not so many baggers. It is really hard to not give them money when small children, thin and smelling really bad, come up to you and ask. Today dinner for 8 persons cost maybe 150kr? And we can't give a little amount to those who ask. Of course we know why but it is still really hard. Being «vazaha» and then not share does not make it any better.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;" lang="en-US"&gt;It is really facinating to be here. It is strange to see the way people live, their daily life, everything is completely normal. And it is so different from what we are used to in Norway. Really heavy bags of corn and I don't know what on their heads, long lines for getting on the buses, buses passing eachother when there is really no room for it. Old people, young people. People everywhere. No wonder internationals says Norway is empty. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;«Herren er mitt lys og min frelse. Hvem skal jeg frykte? Herren er mitt livs styrke. Hvem skal jeg da være redd for? (...) For Han gjemmer meg under sitt dekke på den onde dag. (...) Vent på Herren, vær frimodig, og Han skal styrke ditt hjerte. Ja, bare vent på Herren.»	Sal 27: 1,5,14&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1809549179418111409-8257860611098160211?l=haldingrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/feeds/8257860611098160211/comments/default' title='Legg inn kommentarer'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1809549179418111409&amp;postID=8257860611098160211' title='4 Kommentarer'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/8257860611098160211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/8257860611098160211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/2008/10/madagascar.html' title='Madagascar'/><author><name>Ingrid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12707356860374048640</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/Sul9_3an02I/AAAAAAAAAtg/CNzwZhfTnYo/S220/_MG_6085.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1809549179418111409.post-6260462365018138594</id><published>2008-09-28T15:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T15:09:51.641-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Heal the world</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.prayabout.com/reply_images/10117.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px;" src="http://www.prayabout.com/reply_images/10117.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a place in your heart&lt;br /&gt;And I know that it is love&lt;br /&gt;And this place could be much&lt;br /&gt;Brighter than tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;And if you really try&lt;br /&gt;You'll find there's no need to cry&lt;br /&gt;In this place you'll feel&lt;br /&gt;There's no hurt or sorrow.&lt;br /&gt;There are ways to get there&lt;br /&gt;If you care enough for the living&lt;br /&gt;Make a little space, make a better place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heal the world&lt;br /&gt;Make it a better place&lt;br /&gt;For you and for me and the entire human race&lt;br /&gt;There are people dying&lt;br /&gt;If you care enough for the living&lt;br /&gt;Make a better place for&lt;br /&gt;You and for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want to know why&lt;br /&gt;There's a love that cannot lie&lt;br /&gt;Love is strong&lt;br /&gt;It only cares for joyful giving.&lt;br /&gt;If we try we shall see&lt;br /&gt;In this bliss we cannot feel&lt;br /&gt;Fear or dread&lt;br /&gt;We stop existing and start living&lt;br /&gt;Then it feels that always&lt;br /&gt;Love's enough for us growing&lt;br /&gt;Make a better world, make a better world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heal the world&lt;br /&gt;Make it a better place&lt;br /&gt;For you and for me and the entire human race.&lt;br /&gt;There are people dying&lt;br /&gt;If you care enough for the living&lt;br /&gt;Make a better place for&lt;br /&gt;You and for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the dream we would conceived in&lt;br /&gt;Will reveal a joyful face&lt;br /&gt;And the world we once believed in&lt;br /&gt;Will shine again in grace&lt;br /&gt;Then why do we keep strangling life&lt;br /&gt;Wound this earth, crucify it's soul&lt;br /&gt;Though it's plain to see, this world is heavenly&lt;br /&gt;Be God's glow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We could fly so high&lt;br /&gt;Let our spirits never die&lt;br /&gt;In my heart I feel&lt;br /&gt;You are all my brothers&lt;br /&gt;Create a world with no fear&lt;br /&gt;Together we'll cry happy tears&lt;br /&gt;See the nations turn&lt;br /&gt;Their swords into plowshares&lt;br /&gt;We could really get there&lt;br /&gt;If you cared enough for the living&lt;br /&gt;Make a little space to make a better place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heal the world&lt;br /&gt;Make it a better place&lt;br /&gt;For you and for me and the entire human race&lt;br /&gt;There are people dying&lt;br /&gt;If you care enough for the living&lt;br /&gt;Make a better place for&lt;br /&gt;You and for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though I'm not going to heal the world, I might help healing some.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm ready to go now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1809549179418111409-6260462365018138594?l=haldingrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/feeds/6260462365018138594/comments/default' title='Legg inn kommentarer'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1809549179418111409&amp;postID=6260462365018138594' title='3 Kommentarer'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/6260462365018138594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/6260462365018138594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/2008/09/heal-world.html' title='Heal the world'/><author><name>Ingrid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12707356860374048640</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/Sul9_3an02I/AAAAAAAAAtg/CNzwZhfTnYo/S220/_MG_6085.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1809549179418111409.post-3479722222459078831</id><published>2008-09-23T01:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-23T01:58:30.164-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tiden flyr.</title><content type='html'>&lt;meta equiv="CONTENT-TYPE" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;title&gt;&lt;/title&gt;&lt;meta name="GENERATOR" content="OpenOffice.org 2.4  (Win32)"&gt;&lt;style type="text/css"&gt; 	&lt;!-- 		@page { size: 21cm 29.7cm; margin: 2cm } 		P { margin-bottom: 0.21cm } 	--&gt; 	&lt;/style&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Tiden flyr. Dette er visst noe av forskjellene mellom Norge og for eksempel land i Afrika – der kommer tiden, den går ikke. Vi stresser visst litt mer enn dem. For meg flyr i hvertfall tiden. Kjempe fort! For 3 måneder siden var jeg døds redd og kjempe stresset for muntlig eksamen. For 5-6 uker siden kom jeg til Hald, i grunn uten å vite noe som helst om hva jeg faktisk har begitt meg ut på dette året. For 1 uke siden kom lappen i boks. Ja, tro det eller ei, den gjorde faktisk det! Veldig på sparket og plutselig oppkjøring førte til at jeg plutselig fikk litt mer orden på livet. Gud virker på merkelige måter. Utrolig stressende av og til! Men det gikk, så takk til Han. Igjen. Typisk at han alltid har rett.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;	Men allerede virker lappen langt vekke. En uke går overraskende fort. Flere uker også i grunn. Tiden går visst fortere jo eldre man blir, uheldigvis. Mer og mer av gode minner blir glemt. Forsvinner ut i det store intet. Jeg håper ikke minnene fra dette året vil forsvinne så fort.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Og så er det allerede siste uken på Hald. På torsdag er det avskjedsfest og fredag er det vasking og hjemreise. Tiden flyr. Og på tirsdag, om ganske nøyaktig en uke, reiser jeg. Onsdag natt kommer jeg til Madagaskar, som enda virker så uendelig langt vekke. Jeg kjenner at jeg burde være kjempe trist for at jeg reiser fra alle, redd, men likevel spent. Følelsene jeg faktisk sitter med er at jeg er spent. Ikke redd eller trist, det er nok fortsatt litt for fjernt, selv om det er skremmende nærmt også.    &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;Bare 1 uke igjen.&lt;/p&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1809549179418111409-3479722222459078831?l=haldingrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/feeds/3479722222459078831/comments/default' title='Legg inn kommentarer'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1809549179418111409&amp;postID=3479722222459078831' title='4 Kommentarer'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/3479722222459078831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/3479722222459078831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/2008/09/tiden-flyr.html' title='Tiden flyr.'/><author><name>Ingrid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12707356860374048640</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/Sul9_3an02I/AAAAAAAAAtg/CNzwZhfTnYo/S220/_MG_6085.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1809549179418111409.post-5338244259305100065</id><published>2008-09-04T05:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-04T05:34:44.136-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Høst og skole</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/SL_UZWfrURI/AAAAAAAAAAs/lFetLRI30xs/s1600-h/CIMG0087.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 276px; height: 192px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/SL_UZWfrURI/AAAAAAAAAAs/lFetLRI30xs/s320/CIMG0087.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242142023282807058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeg merker at skolen har begynt nå. Pensumbøker skal leses, bokrapporter skal skrives. Plutselig er det ikke bare fri etter skolen, men lekser. Ikke like direkte lekser som før, men et litt mer usynlig press som ligger over oss om at et visst antall bøker, et visst antall sider, skal leses. gjerne før vi reiser. Folk sitter i timene, i peisestuen og med middagsbordet med bøker. Ikke alle, men noen. Noen er godt igang, noen har allrede lest ut bøker og fått has på bokrapportene. Jeg er ikke blant dem, selv om jeg har kommet litt i gang. Rapportene skal ha med hovedinnhold og ideer presentert i bøkene, og hvordan vi kan relatere disse til oss selv. Særlig i forhold til uteoppholdet.&lt;br /&gt;  Det er plutselig bare 1 måned til vi reiser. Eller, 26 dager for min del, bare for å være litt mer nøyaktig. Da vil jeg være på vei til Madagaskar. Amsterdam først, så Paris og etter det Antananarivo. Tidligere studenter har vært på besøk for å informere oss litt om hva vi har i vente og i timene har vi gjennomgått lister med kulturforskjeller. Det er ikke så lenge igjen, men jeg merker at jeg gleder meg. Klar for å reise kommer jeg nok aldri til å bli, men jeg er klar for å få sjokk over tilstandene på Madagaskar, klar for å bryte sammen i frustrasjon og gjerne redsel også, lure på hvorfor jeg i all verden har begitt meg ut på noe så sprøtt. Mer klar enn det tror jeg det er vanskelig å bli. Men det er greit! Jeg har nok godt av noen slike sjokk.&lt;br /&gt;  I tillegg merker jeg at interessen for Madagaskar øker mer og mer. Til og med den litt mindre fengende boken "I tro og tjeneste" med 100 sider om kirken på Madagaskar tiltrekker min oppmerksomhet en smule. Litt vanskelig å innrømme det er det, men jeg er faktisk litt interessert. Så 1-0 til "I tro og tjeneste". Det hører med at den er som et leksikon, ikke de enkleste formuleringene og en typisk voksenbok. Det foregår en indre kamp mot den, en trang til å ikke lese. Gjøre noe annet i steden for. Men, heldig som den er denne boken, så står den på pensumlisten. Den må leses. Det eneste som gjenstår da er å svelge stoltheten, bite i det sure eple og ta fatt på lesingen. Om jeg kan relatere noe av boken til mitt eget liv/uteoppholdet mitt får bli en annen sak, så om den blir bakgrunn for en av de seks bokrapportene vi skal skrive får bli en annen sak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Som sagt er skolen virkelig i gang, dette merkes på været også. Høsten er på vei, på godt og ondt. Eplene er modne og regnet falelr fra himmelen. Nett som hjemme. Vi har hatt øsende regn, pøsende regn. i Mandal. Jeg vil understreke at dette er Norgest sørligste by :) Og ja, jeg syns det er litt festlig at det har regnet en stund her nå. Et problem er det i grunn ikke, jeg er jo vant til det, men rett og slett bare litt festlig.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Og så var det lesing. Bare for å ikke la boken vinne.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1809549179418111409-5338244259305100065?l=haldingrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/feeds/5338244259305100065/comments/default' title='Legg inn kommentarer'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1809549179418111409&amp;postID=5338244259305100065' title='6 Kommentarer'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/5338244259305100065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/5338244259305100065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/2008/09/hst-og-skole.html' title='Høst og skole'/><author><name>Ingrid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12707356860374048640</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/Sul9_3an02I/AAAAAAAAAtg/CNzwZhfTnYo/S220/_MG_6085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/SL_UZWfrURI/AAAAAAAAAAs/lFetLRI30xs/s72-c/CIMG0087.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1809549179418111409.post-4879549174753598544</id><published>2008-08-28T10:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-28T10:20:27.941-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Små detaljer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/SLbdqLZstHI/AAAAAAAAAAk/iaEq4jJlw8Y/s1600-h/CIMG0140.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/SLbdqLZstHI/AAAAAAAAAAk/iaEq4jJlw8Y/s320/CIMG0140.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5239618933176972402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;meta name="GENERATOR" content="OpenOffice.org 2.4  (Win32)"&gt;&lt;style type="text/css"&gt; 	&lt;!-- 		@page { size: 21cm 29.7cm; margin: 2cm } 		P { margin-bottom: 0.21cm } 	--&gt;&lt;/style&gt;&lt;meta equiv="CONTENT-TYPE" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"&gt;&lt;title&gt;&lt;/title&gt;&lt;meta name="GENERATOR" content="OpenOffice.org 2.4  (Win32)"&gt;&lt;style type="text/css"&gt; 	&lt;!-- 		@page { size: 21cm 29.7cm; margin: 2cm } 		P { margin-bottom: 0.21cm } 	--&gt; 	&lt;/style&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;En bille. En svart liten klump på bakken, overraskende nok ganske knall metallisk blå, på undersiden. Når man ser nærmere er den egentlig ikke så veldig liten heller, men faktisk ganske stor. I hvertfall samenlignet med andre biller. Hadde jeg hatt tilgang til trådløst nett på rommet skulle jeg googlet «bille» og sett om jeg kunne finne ut akkurat hvilken type det var jeg sikter til. Men det har jeg altså ikke, så da får det faktiske navnet bli et mysterium for denne gang.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;	Mitt møte med denne billen var i hvertfall anderledes enn jeg først trodde. Den lille klumpen på bakken så nemlig litt most ut. Som om noen hadde trakket på den, der den krøp rundt på asfalten. Ganske naturlig i grunn. Da jeg så litt nærmere på den oppdaget jeg likevel at det var noe helt annet på ferde. Noe jeg aldri har sett før. Litt skviste involler som tøt ut var det nemlig ikke. Her er det så klart to muligheter: billen var godt igang med å bæsje, eller så var det en haug med små biller/egg, inntullet i noe gugg, rett og slett en billefødsel! Midt på asfalten, uten for nyeinternatet her på Hald. Jeg velger å tro sistnevnte. En altså merkverdig liten (men egentlig ganske stor) hendelse. Det endte med at jeg la meg ende ned på bakken og fulgte med. Det var rett og slett fascinerende! Og en fødsel er jo svære saker. Kan en bille føle noen ting? Gjorde det vondt? Det er ikke lett å si. Det fortsatte i hvertfall uten lyder. Helt alene. Med meg som tilskuer en liten stund til. Igjen, fascinerende.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"&gt;«Gud gjorde (...) hvert kryp etter sin art. Og Gud så at det var godt», står det i 1. Mos 1, 25. Den lille billen er skap av Gud like mye som deg og meg. &lt;span style=""&gt;«Gå til mauren, du late, se på dens strev og bli vis!», står det i Ords 6,6. Hvor lett er det ikke å gå forbi det små, overse det nesten usynlige. Ikke legge merke til de små detaljene. Å glemme at det er der. Så fantastisk og detaljerik verden vi lever i. S&lt;/span&gt;å gjennomført alt er, så presist.  &lt;/p&gt; &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1809549179418111409-4879549174753598544?l=haldingrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/feeds/4879549174753598544/comments/default' title='Legg inn kommentarer'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1809549179418111409&amp;postID=4879549174753598544' title='7 Kommentarer'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/4879549174753598544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/4879549174753598544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/2008/08/sm-detaljer.html' title='Små detaljer'/><author><name>Ingrid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12707356860374048640</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/Sul9_3an02I/AAAAAAAAAtg/CNzwZhfTnYo/S220/_MG_6085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/SLbdqLZstHI/AAAAAAAAAAk/iaEq4jJlw8Y/s72-c/CIMG0140.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1809549179418111409.post-2951864270844359541</id><published>2008-08-21T05:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T05:22:58.031-07:00</updated><title type='text'>En urettferdig verden</title><content type='html'>Da var skoleuken begynt for fullt og undervisningen er i gang. Vi hatt om misjon og evangelisering. Sykt skummelt, er det første som slår meg. Misjon? Evangelisering? Er det det jeg har begitt meg ut på? Gud bedre meg, som Sid sier i Istid. Jeg kan absolutt ikke nok om Bibelen til å kunne si noe smart som får folk frelst. Ikke føler jeg meg klar for det heller. Det er da forelesningen går mer inn på hva misjon og evangelisering egentlig er. Det er nemlig så mye annet å gjøre enn å bare si noe smart. Gjerninger sier vel så mye. Gode gjerninger som vi gjør fordi Jesus ønsker at vi skal gjøre det, gode gjerninger vi ønsker å gjøre fordi vi vil lyde Guds ord. Misjon er også definert med blant annet det å bryte grenser. Gå ut av komfortsonen og gjøre ting man kanskje absolutt ikke føler seg trygg på å gjøre. Og slike grenser tror jeg det er viktig å bryte, om det er en så liten ting som å synge og spille gitar foran folk eller de litt større, som å skrive seg opp på listen for å ha dagens ord eller reise til ut for å redde verden. Alt gjør en forskjell, om det påvirker deg selv eller de rundt deg. Et sted må man begynne. I Salmene 1:3 står det om mennesket som har sn lyst i Herrens lov. "Han skal være lik et tre plantet ved strømmer av vann, som gir sin frukt i sin tid, og som har bladers om ikke visner. Og alt han gjør skal lykkes". Dette ble lest i dag av hun som hadde dagens ord, eller reflection of the day, som vi kaller det her. Om det å ikke haste, men å stole på at alt skjer til sin tid. Ikke alle resultater skal komme med en gang, noen endringer skjer over tid. Derfor er det viktig å begynne i det små. Ta et steg av gangen. Og det er noe å huske på når man er med på en slikt arbeid også. Hjelp er viktig, utrolig viktig. Likevel går det dessverre ikke an å hjelpe alle på en gang heller. Man må begynne i det små her også, som alle andre steder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20% av verdens befolkning lever i velstand. Vi er blant de 20% her i Norge. Og 80% av alt forbruket i verden er det vi som står for. Sykt? Ja. Jeg er helt sjokkert. 92,9% av bybefolkningen på Madagaskar lever i slummen. Hvor mange prosent gjør det i Norge? Jeg sitter med følelsen av rett å slett være flau over å være norsk. At vi har så utrolig mye penger mens andre har det så stikk motsatt. Det er mer enn vi kan fatte. Fattigdommen burde stå så utrolig mye mer i fokus enn det den gjør.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Video:&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WI1XMqEXMfE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeg gleder meg utrolig til å gå ut av den trygge Norge-boblen og se mer av hvordan verden faktisk er. Det kommer til å bli ufattelig tøft, men et skritt av gangen. En gradvis forandring av meg og forhåpentligvis ungdomssenteret i Antananarivo også.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1809549179418111409-2951864270844359541?l=haldingrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/feeds/2951864270844359541/comments/default' title='Legg inn kommentarer'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1809549179418111409&amp;postID=2951864270844359541' title='1 Kommentarer'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/2951864270844359541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/2951864270844359541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/2008/08/en-urettferdig-verden.html' title='En urettferdig verden'/><author><name>Ingrid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12707356860374048640</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/Sul9_3an02I/AAAAAAAAAtg/CNzwZhfTnYo/S220/_MG_6085.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1809549179418111409.post-4020837273955895767</id><published>2008-08-16T11:40:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-18T07:37:29.955-07:00</updated><title type='text'>første blogg og første uke</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/SKmHwCW4P2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/8dT651xgHsU/s1600-h/August+08+046.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/SKmHwCW4P2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/8dT651xgHsU/s320/August+08+046.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5235865301131214690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ja, da var jeg kommet så langt at jeg har fått meg blogg. Det er en begynnelse. Jeg er også nå i min første helg her på Hald Internasjonale Senter. Og det er også en begynnelse. En mye større begynnelse enn bloggen. Jeg er nå på vei ut i et år som kommer til å bli helt anderledes enn jeg tror jeg noen gang kan klare å forestille meg. Det kommer nok til å bli kjempe tung på veldig mange områder, særlig det å komme til en helt ny kultur med helt nye ting å forholde seg til. Men første og fremt blir nok dette et fantastisk år, et år bedre enn de 18-19 andre jeg har levd. Jeg tror Gud ønsker å ha meg her og jeg prøver å være så klar som mulig til det som venter meg av prøvelser.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hittil har dette skjedd, sånn ca: Jeg har fått vite at ejg skal bo i Tana, altså Antananarivo, som er hovedstaden på Madagaskar. Der skal jeg, sammen med Øyvin,Jens Jørund og Arnhild, bo på ungdomssenteret i byen. Vi får eget kjøkken og deler stue med en annen familie som også bor der. I tillegg til dette vil vi reise to og to, gutt og jente, opp til en kystby nord i landet og være med på et båtprosjekt der som heter Shalom. Det er ingen som har vært med å arbeidet med det tidligere av Haldstudentene, men både vi og lærerne våre er sikre på at det blir en veldig bra opplevelse. Vi skal være der oppe i en måned og vil da få et lite avbrekk fra storbylivet som vi ellers vil ha rundt oss i hovedstaden.&lt;br /&gt;Når det gjelder hittil på Hald har det være veldig positive opplevelser. Alle er så utrolig sosiale, særlig de internasjonale. Med Norge inkludert er vi til sammen 15 nasjoner representert her og det er ikke gale! Mennesker fra hele verden er samlet i en liten by som Mandal og det merkes at vi utgjør en vesentlig del av byen! :) Folk er veldig positive og slår rett som det er av en prat, om det er på stranden eller i en butikk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeg tror dette vil bli et utrolig bra år. Vi har ikke enda begynt for fullt med undervisningen, men har likevel allerede lært mye. Om noen sier "hus" ser jeg for meg et hus noen lunde likt det jeg bor i hjemme i Fana, men en fra Afrika vil så klart ikke se for seg det samme. Bare på slike små detaljer kan assosiasjonene og erfaringene være utrolig forskjellige. Og når det da er snakk om større spørsmål som demokrati, likestilling og lignende, hvor forskjellige vil ikke tankene være der? Vi lever i forskjellige verdener og jeg tror virkelig at dette året vil gi så utrolig mye, både når det gjelder kunnskap om tverrkulturell kommunikasjon og ikke minst tro.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1809549179418111409-4020837273955895767?l=haldingrid.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/feeds/4020837273955895767/comments/default' title='Legg inn kommentarer'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1809549179418111409&amp;postID=4020837273955895767' title='5 Kommentarer'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/4020837273955895767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1809549179418111409/posts/default/4020837273955895767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://haldingrid.blogspot.com/2008/08/test.html' title='første blogg og første uke'/><author><name>Ingrid</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12707356860374048640</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/Sul9_3an02I/AAAAAAAAAtg/CNzwZhfTnYo/S220/_MG_6085.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_3D_RRvze0fQ/SKmHwCW4P2I/AAAAAAAAAAM/8dT651xgHsU/s72-c/August+08+046.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
