I am officially a Space junkie!

Do you know how many there is in Space right now? I do. Six people.

I can't quite figure out the picture changing before me right now. Is it ice? It might be. So are they moving over one of the poles? South our north? Could it be white clouds in a blue sky? Over an ocean? No, I think it is ice.

This is the thing. Trouble & Trouble introduced me to the International Space Station a while ago. I am not interested in Space. I am not into astronomy. I am not one of those persons getting panic attacks from a starry black endless sky.

Read me right. I am a child of the Space era. I know exactly where I was sitting watching the first moon landing, 12 years old. Simultaneously writing about it in my journal. Of course. I had completely forgotten about that part, but of course I did.

The six people in Space are Oleg Kotov, Mike Hopkins, Sergey Ryazanskiy, Rick Mastracchio, Mikhail Tyurin and Koichi Wakata. They have been in Space 109-151 days. I hang out with these guys most every day. This is what Wikipedia tells in an extract about what they are doing up there:

The ISS serves as a microgravity and space environment research laboratory in which crew members conduct experiments in biology, human biology, physics, astronomy, meteorology and other fields.[11][12][13] The station is suited for the testing of spacecraft systems and equipment required for missions to the Moon and Mars.[14]

Although I have been socializing with commander Kotov and his crew for some month now, I am still in the mode of figuring out how things work up there. There is action throughout my day, so are they on some kind of European time? Which doesn’t make sense since they are in verbal contact with Houston and Moscow. Maybe they are going on shifts? I am sure I can google this to find out, but it’s kind of fun trying to figure out the life up there myself.

I have made it a routine having breakfast with commander Kotov and his crew. Well, I am the one having breakfast, they are working. Depending on which camera is “on air” (!), I can see the round shape of planet Earth behind some part of the space station, a world map showing where ISS is located right now, blue ocean with cloud systems moving over it, or the interior of ISS. The latter is my favorite!

Commander Kotov and his crew are busy. They are always up to something. My first morning with them I watched Hopper (that’s what they call Mike Hopkins) doing his workout, pedaling some kind of bike while hanging in his arms. When he was done he took his shoes off which floated around a while before he caught them putting them in their place in a pocket at the wall.

I can reveal that they are mostly wearing shorts and a t-shirt. No shoes, only socks. They are moving with grabbing blue handles attached to floor, ceiling and walls, kind of diving their way through the interior of the station. It is tight in there. A corridor cluttered with things attached to walls and ceiling. A lot of times the verbal communication with earth is public, and you get to be a part of their experiments. Not that I understand anything of it, but hey, it’s happening in Space, it’s exciting!

It seems to me like the work of Hopper, Rick and Koichi (who is Japanese) is conducted from Houston, and the Russians are led from Moscow. During a Russian shift they speak Russian which is simultaneously interpreted into English. The interpreters are so good, it took me several days to realize that they weren’t leading the conversation, but the other way around. The communication is mostly surprisingly down to earth so to speak:

- I have an item K 9,1 wrapped in bubble wrap, is that correct?

- Yes, that’s the one. Unfold it and read me the numbers please.

- OK, copy.

In the middle of the corridor their is a space that seems to connect different parts of the station. My jaws dropped one day when Koichi disappeared in a hole, and Rick jumped upstairs, kind of. While Hopper didn’t take any notice but continued his work:

- Could you walk me through this part of it?

- Of course, start by clicking the menu button.

You see what I mean, the conversation doesn’t indicate rocket science. It’s more like an ordinary day at work. I am not sure if I find that reassuring or something to be concerned by.

I like hanging out with my friends in Space. And I am very impressed and interested in the tone of the verbal communication between Space and the ground. It is extremely supportive, kind, clear, responsive and positive. I realize that the communication and the relationships between the six persons on ISS as well as between ISS and ground is crucial for the project. Of course everyone involved at the core of this is übermensch not only in their field but as interactive human beings.

I am thinking we have something to learn here though. If we were all educated in responsive, supportive and kind communication I am sure there would be less divorces, less messed up relationships between parents and children, less fights at school yard recess, happier work places and ultimately less war going on. Six people in a tight space ship can’t walk away from each other if they feel like it. And they can’t fight each other. They have to figure each other out and make it work. Which I am sure is done before they take off into orbit of course. And surely regular people can’t live as on limited time in a space station. Nevertheless…

Right now the ISS position is over Spain, I have now found a map showing the ISS orbit so I can keep track of it. Commander Kotov and his crew is experiencing sunrise and sunset every 45 minute. I wonder what that is like. Here in Umeå we haven’t had one single hour of sun in February until today. So I know what that is like. Oh how we need the sun now, and hopefully it will occur more often the following weeks. And tomorrow morning I will be having breakfast with commander Kotov and his crew again. The communication between Houston and ISS I might overhear maybe something like this:

- For this you might want to use the bigger screw driver.

- Ok, copy.

http://www.ustream.tv/channel/live-iss-stream

http://iss.astroviewer.net

400 friends/distorted self

Christian became my number 400 Facebook friend! It happened this week. As the winner of this title I offered him a delicious chanterelle dinner here at the end of the road. He accepted. It might be a while though since Christian lives in Paris.

I was a reluctant Facebook joiner, and it didn’t happen until 2010. I have a tendency of feeling invaded and the idea of a lot of people who I might even not know showing up on my computer was appalling to me.

The decision to join came with starting singing with my choir Kammarkören Sångkraft (Sångkraft Chamber Choir). It was after the cancer and a long time being out of context and community. In 24 hours I was befriended by about 30 choral singers, quickly added by Sångkraft alumni and some close friends finding me.

I did feel invaded though. What were all these people doing in my home? And I really hated the design of Facebook. Yuk! So ugly and totally without any sense of style and finish. 

Trouble 2 taught me how to handle the “invasion”: Mom, think about it as you are taking a downtown walk. You see all these people and you might hear what they are saying, but you don’t need to take notice of them or say hello if you don’t want to.

It was a good advice. I learned to handle this new situation in my sacred home. Early on I also decided on only making friends with people I knew or had met. Except for a few exceptions when it comes to professionals in my field, I am still keeping that rule.

My relationship to Facebook is somewhat conflicted though. I know I am not the only one fed up with all the happy successful lives painted on peoples walls, and there are even scientific research proving that Facebook makes people depressed.

That’s not my biggest concern though. Trouble 2 was the one teaching me who to be on Facebook. Because that’s the thing. You need to learn not to be yourself. I can’t be Maria the complete person. I need to be only a part of me. And hide the most of me. Facebook makes us be half persons. If even.

It’a a peculiar situation. On the one hand we are living in this time of brutal transparency where people are turning their private lives inside out like it was a casual t-shirt. If you are not transparent ( especially as a public person) you have something to hide and are not reliable. On the other hand we learn the tactics of covering ourselves and our privacy by putting up a glossy facade, dispatching our difficulties and failures down in the darkest corner of our mental basements.

Is it really that bad? I actually think it is.

Facebook and social media really is a downtown square where we are meeting and displaying ourselves as in any other community. It is a reality as real as IRL. Only, with very little room for nuances, subtext, grey shades and context. We create a window reducing ourselves to a few black and white (mostly white, hide the black away) letters in a simple font. And where is the rest of yourself?

Well, hopefully most people have other communities. Other squares where they can be more real. Where there is time and space for a conversation that goes beyond the simple font. Where a person can be valuable in all his/hers complexity.

But if you don’t have that kind of environment? If you don’t have everyday people around you? If you don’t have a family? No friends showing up at you door step? If you don’t have a “how was your day”-conversation as an natural ingredients in your life?

If Facebook and social media is your connection to the world? What a distorted picture that world is. And what a distortion it will make out of you. 

The 30-some friends who found me in my first 24 Facebook hours quickly increased to my first 100 thanks to the Sångkraft alumni and former work places such as Swedish National Radio and Television. 200 came pretty easy, when I reached 300 though I thought I had attained my limit, considering the only-people-I-know rule. But what do you know, here I am celebrating Christian, my 400 Facebook friend! And I just love when someone from my former life who I had forgot about shows up, and hey, here we are again!

I am distorted, of course I am. Most of the time I keep quiet down in my mental basement, to look after myself but also to not pollute the world out there.

For me though, physically limited as I am, not being able to get out and about, Facebook is a great asset. I can’t walk downtown squares, but I take my morning and evening Facebook stroll and get a sense of what’s going on out there. Even though the contact with former work colleagues and choral friends is mostly superficial, it is still a contact. And I have been moved to tears by people offering me the most unexpected help in my helplessness.

There is one really nice thing with my only-people-I-know rule: scrolling my friends list I am doing it with a sweat little smile. Most every face that shows up makes me happy and grateful. 400 people who are or have been a part of my IRL. And those who I don’t meet in person any more, well, we are still sharing a tiny corner of our lives.

Today Facebook delivered it’s 10 year anniversary film on my wall. And yes, I can’t help being a bit moved. A bit moved by myself, how is that for a proof of this self reflecting time and age… anyway, enjoy!

https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=656946267703529&set=vb.100001644844611&type=2&theater&notif_t=video_processed

The men in my life

AND THEY DID IT! SEAHAWKS MADE HISTORY! CONGRATULATIONS SEATTLE!!!

And now over to something completely different.

My father’s workshop was my safe haven. It was located behind the laundry room in the basement of our sixties red brick house behind the school canteen in the small town were I grew up. The laundry room was mom’s room, the workshop dad’s. And my safe haven.

Sensing the work shop now I am thinking it was the warmest room I’ve ever experienced. And the brightest. Even though it was cluttered with things it was bright from the presence of my Dad. He was a pastry chef dressed in white, and although I am sure he didn’t wear his bakery clothes in the workshop, my sense about him there is white and glowing. Filling up the room with happiness and untamed creativity.

My dad taught me everything he thought a girl should know. He was home in the afternoon already, done with the baking for the day. After a ten minutes nap in the bathtub (!) he was ready for whatever was on his agenda around the house and garden. And I was always included if I wanted.

I can feel his hand on my arm, teaching me how to handle the saw, making it find it’s smooth way through the plank. How many nails did I hammer into Dad’s cutting block just for the joy and practice of it? Countless! And the workshop was where I learned the fine art of painting. Every coat thin, no dripping. Three delicate coats with fine brushstrokes made a smooth pretty surface. Yes, annoyingly slow, but I learned the joy and pride watching a beautiful result.

Dad’s workshop smelled from wood and paint, the best scent ever. Opening the door in there was an adventure. What is he up to now? And what will I be up to? Walls, cabinets and drawers filled with bits and pieces, in mom’s eyes junk, in my eyes treasures possible transforming into something very special in my hands.

As I grew up Dad taught me how to mow the lawn, change oil in the car, switch tires and do a proper hand wash. When boyfriends later occurred I felt betrayed and put a side when my Dad opened up the secrets of our old car to them as I didn’t exist anymore. I can see myself perplex watching them on the driveway in front of the garage. I knew what was going on though. With only women in the family it was fun for my beloved Dad having a man in the house, and he is forgiven.

Dad and I was a great team. As a young woman I moved into my grand parents old home stead at the end of the road in the little village, and there were years and years of renovating, making use for all the skills he had taught me. Later, when those days came, it was very hard on him watching me getting physically limited from my back problems.

My Dad made me independent and self reliable. I am grateful he didn’t live to see me spending most hours of the day on my couch because that’s all I can do. It would have made him absolutely heartbroken.

So, what do I do, when I can’t be the man in the house? Well, I have to surrender and ask for help. And it turns out that in most cases there are men helping me out. My phone book is full of men providing me their expertise, and from my couch perspective I can’t be anything but grateful.

For pluming there is Leif and his guys (one woman!), Broman and Jonas are the electricians. Jonna and Patrik are the indoor carpenters I am relying on, Bengt and Hans the out door. Sören is the one I am calling if anything needs to be fixed with a tractor, and Bertil helps me out with issues involving trees and forest. Roland has the kind of machinery every man dreamt about as a boy and can fix anything you think is impossible. Kjell takes care of kitchen appliances, Kurre my cars and Per and Daniel are my aid when the village broadband is failing. Add to that my insurance broker Anders, accountant Lars and mentor Torstein. That’s a pretty impressive list I have to say! The men in my life.

How did this happen? How did Dad’s independent and self reliable Maria end up with this harem of craftsmen? Well, I know how it happened and I know why, but I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that I am now in this sense everything I could never picture myself being. Growing up the way I did, I didn’t even know it was an option!

I am sighing here. A deep sigh into my bones and the warmth of my Dad’s workshop. It is hard. It is very hard. Yet, I am thinking, this list might be a proof for self reliance as good as holding the hammer and the nail myself. I have found (all except Sören, Roland and Bertil who lives in the village and are interlaced with me since generations and therefore good to me), and kept all these people who I can totally rely on and know they will helpfully come to my assistance whenever I am in need.

Cleaning out my mother and father’s house after they passed away, we saved the workshop for last. Disassembling and sorting out Dad’s collection of “come in handy” things picked up from everywhere kept in his warm cave was like putting the bones in his body in different boxes. When the room was empty we could feel a damp smell and saw signs of water damage in a corner. My father had filled the room with such warmth we had no idea it was there. When the room was empty, my Dad was gone. 

It’s been falling heavy wet snow here for a couple of days. Yesterday evening there was a power outage and my house was completely dark and silent for some hour. Trouble 2 and Audrey have stayed here this last week as I have been in a bad condition. The two of them heading into town today, a big branch had fallen over a power line and was blocking the way. We called Sören. He came with his tractor.

Umeå/Seattle - historic weekend!

My two cities are on fire this weekend! Umeå is going on red and white, Seattle blue and green. And both cities are vibrating from the excitement of making history!

So, this is the thing: Umeå is the European Capital of Culture 2014 and the Seattle football team Seahawks has made it all the way to the Super Bowl this season! Yesterday was the big inauguration of the ECC in Umeå and today is the thrilling game between Seattle Seahawks and Denver Broncos at the Metlife Stadium in New Jersey!

The preparations for the inauguration in Umeå have been a contest between man and weather, a stake as high as any big game. The plan was to have the opening show on the Umeå River. As the premiere was set to the first weekend in February, that wouldn’t be a problem. This is the time of year when nature is all frozen and white and the river is covered with thick ice. Downtown Umeå is extended with extra area to walk, ski and have fun on. Although some eye brows were raised at the ambitious and somewhat crazy plan, the concerns didn’t have anything to do with water turning to more solid substance.

Isn’t it funny though how Universe is playing it’s trick on us? At Christmas the lawns were still as green as in June and there was hardly no ice on the river. Therefore they started producing a big circle of ice at the place which was planned as the stage (I never really figured out how) and in mid January a headline in the local newspaper declared “we are pretty sure the ice will hold up”. Promising and reassuring!

The weather gods stopped laughing though, the temperature dropped to 14°- -4°F (-10° - -20°C) and in a few days the ice was good for the 9 metric ton equipment needed for making the set for the show.

I am passing the river every time I am going to Umeå for my treatments and watching what’s going on on the ice has been interesting. Riding back home after my choir rehearsals in the evening these last weeks has been exciting, as they have been testing the lights and illuminations for the show. I have sensed this extreme desire to be at the inauguration, I really wanted to be a part of this once in a lifetime event!

It was an impossible dream though. I can’t stand for hours in the cold. And I can’t walk. Since downtown would be closed for traffic, walking was the only option to get to Rådhusparken (the City Hall Park) which was the place for watching the show. So; impossible.

But what if? What if I could borrow a wheel chair? I could! Trouble 2 promised to drive me into town , my friends Mats and Agneta would meet up with me and push me around, and my neighbors Jenny and Hannes offered to come pick me up after the show and get me back home. Friday evening, surrounded by good people, I had all the pieces that would give me my impossible dream!

I woke up with my back in a painful mess. Rephrasing: I didn’t sleep because of the pain so I didn’t really wake up, but painful it was and I had to drop my dream. Just like that. It was the worst back day in a couple of months on this once in a life time-day, and I had to call around and cancel that little organization of mine. It was a bitter moment.

I set my mind on thinking that my view would be a lot better watching the whole thing on TV and I would be nice and warm under my big blanket. And Jenny would join me, how fun! Swedish Television (PBS) would stream the inauguration on the web, and later in the evening there would be a show in the programming. We made the streaming work on my TV set (yes!), but than the streaming itself didn’t work (no…) and the whole thing turned into a disappointment. Okay, I’ll just watch the late show in the programming. Then my TV went dead. It didn’t want to make the change from the web to actual TV. By that time I was close to tears, and I ended up watching the spectacle on my lap top. 

I dreamt about being one in the crowd this very special evening, being a part of Umeå on this historic day, watching the red fire on the white ice in Burning Snow, the inauguration of Umeå the Capital of Culture 2014. Instead I was lying on my couch with my laptop. 

Well well. Trouble 2 and Audrey came over this afternoon giving me the reality check I needed. It had been very cold. And extremely crowded. They didn’t really see anything, they actually left in the middle of it because of those factors. And the show was so slow people lost focus, started talking and weren’t a part of it.

I can understand the slow problem. I, who was on the front row (it turned out!) found it slow and then there was nothing around making me loose focus. The show was beautiful and spectacular, but it was slow. Really slow. I can totally understand why people wondered off in the cold evening.

As a start of the Capital of Culture year I am sure it was a success though. We’ve had a very unusual winter with warm temperatures until only a few weeks ago only a thin white layer of snow. But then the night until the big day it started snowing. Cold, fluffy snowflakes, like they were ordered for the occasion! It was 14°F (-10°C) and the ice on the Umeå River was covered with 4 inches of snow that looked like the fake version they use in Hollywood! The setting must have been very exotic for foreign guests and international journalists. And they say 55000 people were gathered to be a part of this historic event. So congratulations Umeå!

http://www.svtplay.se/video/1742593/invigning-av-kulturhuvudstadsaret

In just a few hours it is Seattle that is up to the evidence. Like Umeå (which is the smallest and on the map most insignificant city being chosen as Capital of Culture) Seattle has been the underdog. And the Seahawks are playing for not only a Super Bowl championship but Seattle's sports psyche. A victory would help erase years of disappointment and provide a lift to the city, just as ECC is lifting Umeå. If Seahawks returns to Seattle with a Super Bowl ring, it will be the first in it’s 38 year’s history. 

I hear a snow plow outside my house, the premiere one this winter. In Seattle the Space Needle is lit up in blue and the Great Wheel is spinning blue and green. Thousands and thousands are cheering for the upcoming game just as Umeå is cheering for the upcoming year. I can’t even imagine what Seattle will be like if it’s team takes the Super Bowl, but however it is, I would have loved being a part of it. Well, there is always my laptop! I might choose one more night of no sleep and join the fun.

So, go Seahawks go, go make history!