Sunday, December 17, 2006
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Winther days before Christmas
I have started my Christmas holliday. Went out in the freezing, cold air in the beginning of the day. When the light is at the highest. In one hour. The sun is absent. The darkness not far away.
I met an African girl, who seemed to pay no notice to the cold air. Wandering away with nothing on her head.
An old woman was struggling on the icy road.
Went down to the beach. Where a seabird had a nice time.
and far away in the south, I could see some light, from the sun, some far away.
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The old are the oldest
This is an old saying in Norway. Lot`s of good things may come from the younger. But the old are the oldest.
During the Week of Culture we have been presented all kinds of local, volunteer culture.
At the museum, an old house used as a shop at the 1800, one of few buildings that didn`t get destroyed during the second world war, there was a concert.
And two guys playing, were Ingolf Schanche and "Påle" Niska. Singing, playing a fiddle and an accordion. They have been playing for such a long time.
Inbetween the music they told stories.
About how they had to escape to the cellar in the middle of a concert during bomb raids in the war.
When they made some terrible, musical screams, playing the Finnish, national hymn. Which they didn`t have a clue about.
When they were playing music at wrestling tournaments. Trying to outloud the sound of farts from the wrestlers (!)
There might be musicians that know music better. But these two guys has such an amouunt of charm.
And they are old. The old are the oldest.
(Not much of a quality on this film, using a Nokia n80, but feel the spirit...)