Burrs in my Side

I think I have managed, to a substantial degree, to avoid complaining on this blog. This probably accounts for it being one of the less exciting personal accounts of life at school on the internet. I am going to take a moment to share with you, my dear friends and readers, what little I have to complain about, which should put all of the posts about the weather into perspective.

First, it is my opinion that the whole point of being here is, well, being here. By that I mean, attending classes, going to concerts, taking time to practice, and soaking up as much as possible of Rauland. It's not a big place, but it's got a lot of history. It absolutely infuriates me that so many of the other students here (I come up with at least 3 names without trying and that's almost ten percent of the student body) don't care enough to come to class everyday, or on time. Now, I am not the world's most punctual individual, and I am planning to take two weeks off of school to be at home in April, so I clearly don't consider myself the perfect student. But I find the disrespectful behavior of my classmates appalling.

Next: A cooling world economy has meant that Rauland's ski season has gotten off to a slow start. This means that I haven't been working at the hotel which in turn means that I haven't been earning nearly as much as I would like to earn. This is compounded with January being the month to buy travel tickets and a unwillingness to exert real spending controls has put me deep in the red for January. Fortunately, I'm operating on a fiscal budget that started in July and looks like it will stretch until June. Next year I'll have to find a cheaper place to live.

Third: I like to work on projects in teams, it turns out. This is a shock to me since I always detested group projects in school. What makes teamwork function is all of the team-members working enthusiastically (or at least working) toward the common goal. Our class project (Vinterkappleiken) is not voluntary, so it should go without saying that some people are more interested in it's success than others. Regardless of interest level, everyone has a job and it needs to get done now. The festival starts in ten days. I'm tired of being asked why we're having a meeting. We have meetings because they give people deadlines to meet. Without deadlines, work doesn't get done. If work doesn't get done, we look like a bunch of idiots come February 14th. My job as co-chair of the kappleik is to make sure that we don't look like a bunch of idiots, but I can't do that with barely half of the class participating in the planning process.

I also have some conflicting complaints about playing music. I really want to play more in small groups (playing with the whole class is nearly impossible to coordinate). I also want to play more solo for dancing. Allow me to explain the difference. When playing in a group, it is extremely important that everyone gets along with each other; communication is critical. We're supposed to be having fun, so it's vital that the group members enjoy each others' company and can find musical common ground.

I want to play for dancing alone because it's a much more personal experience and it's much easier to react to the dancers. Jamming with an audience annoys me; I also don't really like listening to jamming. It probably comes back to playing with people who have a similar viewpoint about danceability in music. It's one thing to sit with a group of musicians who have a similar background and repertoire and just play tunes - that can be great fun. It's another thing entirely to try to find common ground with other musicians while the dancers stand around, get bored, and leave. That kind of jamming should be left for kitchens and corners while the dancers and people trying to enjoy a beer can relax and enjoy their activity of choice.

Finally, my biggest complaint. Everyone who saw my apartment in Ballard knows that when I live alone, tidy is not a word most people would use to describe my living situation. I currently share a kitchen and I do my best to make sure that when I get something dirty, I clean up after myself. This is pretty easy since we have a dishwasher. The other girl in the kitchen doesn't seem to think it's that important. Actually, if I didn't clean, I don't know if it would ever be clean in the kitchen. I had finally come to terms with this, when she started eating my food. Not just practical sharing of more perishable items and things that are cheaper in bulk (milk, cheese, butter, onions, potatoes, etc.), but the expensive things like fruit, meat, and beer. Before the holidays, I don't think she went grocery shopping for three weeks. That's expensive in Norway. I don't mind sharing food, but I don't like stealing.

Ok, enough for now. On to more positive thinking!

The first day of classes

August 20, 2008

The opening ceremonies went as to be expected. There were several inspirational speeches, the instructors and support staff were introduced, and we had roll call for all of the students. That afternoon we broke into our classes and went over the syllabus for the first semester. There are eleven students in first year folk music; we come from five different countries and play an entire orchestra full of intruments. After that we had library orientation and we had made it through our first day.

The first night was a welcome party. The second year music students and the instructors played during the first part of the evening. The teachers sold beverages. We were in Årestoga, which is a reconstruction (I think) of the type of log buildings you see all over Norway; this one has a small entryway for coats and shoes and a rather large main room with a stone floor. There was easily enough room for the roughly 60 people in attendance to sit at the tables with a cozy dance space in the center.

Once all of the second year students had taken their turn, the first year students were encouraged to come up and play. Timidly, a few of us left our seats, got our instruments and started to tune. A few second year students joined us. We played for at least an hour. We played whatever came up first. If someone didn't know it, they hung in there singing or playing chords until the melody hit them. It was great fun until the instructors sent us home at 11.

Birgit had announced that the after party was at her place, which, when you have that many people over means that it is also in my kitchen. I thought that was a splendid place for an after party. Three of the hardingfele students broke out their instruments and played until the early hours of the morning. They had a huge repertoire in common and it was amazing to sit and listen to them, in between talking with people and trying to get the moths back on the correct side of the glass.