Yoga Goodness

I've been going to prenatal yoga the last months of my pregnancy. The classes have been a mixture between yoga practice, meditation, therapy and a friendship circle. Too bad it's only for pregnant people.

The teacher, Lisa Edelstein, is also a midwife. She just happen to love working with and talking about pregnancy and birth, and embraces every woman who walk into the studio as if they were lost souls seeking shelter. In a way we are when coming to the studio - pregnant women are vulnerable, especially first timers,  some have back pains and other hassles, and several lack good social networks because they're new to the area. Like me.

Students walk out of class feeling refreshed and appreciated - even spiritually engaged in a way.  Sometimes we hang around chatting for a while after class, or stay behind talking to Lisa in confidence about some delicate pregnancy issue - which she's always open to listen to and give advice on.

Every class has a topic of the day. Something about life in general. Last time, the topic was "gratefulness." Lisa said she used to practice with her children before bedtime - to sum up at least 3 things from the day that is worth being grateful for. "Sometimes you're just grateful that the day is over" - she said. "And that's ok too - just recognize the feeling of being grateful for it."

It is very true, though. When thinking about a few things you can be grateful for, life becomes a little bit more joyful. Worries become a little bit smaller. Annoyances become a little less relevant. It may even help you get enough peace in mind to fall asleep at night.

I never thought yoga could extend so much into my everyday life. Even though class is only twice a week, it influences the whole week. Missing a class is like missing food - things fall out of balance.

I haven't done any effort to even try getting into the philosophy and lifestyle of yoga, but I do get that it is a lot about balance and strength applied to several aspects of life. It makes sense, even though it might also be the people in class, and "Mother Lisa," that contribute this foundation of well-being.

Being open to what new experiences can offer you is a key I guess. My gosh that sounds so yoga-ish ...

Yoga One Hollywood
Shree Mama Prenatal Yoga

Healthcare choices

Lately I've been interviewing pediatricians. Soon-to-be-parents are expected to do so over here. I've made phone calls to their offices, asked if I can do a "prenatal interview" with specific doctors and booked appointments for that. The doctors I have chosen to talk to are carefully selected from internet research and reputations in my network.

Would I have done this in Norway? Never. Would any doctor in Norway spend time talking to anybody that might choose to see them regularly with their child in the future? ...

At first, I found this a bit overkill - how am I suppose to know what to look for? How much am I expected to know about healthcare to actually be a decent parent over here??

But I think I've managed to find a good doctor to follow up on our child once he's born. Choosing a healthcare provider is like choosing any other service - comparing general impression and gut feeling for the different overall experience; Did I like the doctor? Did he or she listen to my concerns? Could I easily understand what the doctor was saying? Was the waiting room comfortable? Clean? How did the receptionist welcome me? Did I wait for a long time before I was seen? Does it seem to be easy to get hold of the doctor in an emergency? And so on.

My final choice is based on everything else but judgement of their actual medical skills, which I obviously wouldn't be qualified to have an opinion about anyways. Besides, the internet screening sort of covers that part, revealing education, awards, years of practice, medical malpractice records and user reviews. The interview is all about the highly significant people-handling skills and general personal impression, which is what distiguish one recomended doctor from another.

This whole interviewing experience has made me feel quite empowered as a user. I've now made a concious choice based on personal research to ensure that my child will have the best possible healthcare once he's born. It is a step away from being able to blame the system if things don't work out, and two steps towards taking that responsibility myself. It felt scary at first - but it feels good now. It requires time and effort, but then again - it might save stress, time and concerns once we start using the chosen service. I wish I knew this when I was looking for a provider for my pregnancy appointments.

This is not an appraisal of the general American healthcare system. But there are pros and cons. Some of the cons are that you can choose among plenty of good doctors due to the way things work, and the power of the users of the healthcare services is definitely more dominant here than back in our social healthcare country. Bearing in mind that the powerful user would be the resourceful, critical, aware and educated user who's on a good healthcare insurance plan, and who's gained some experience on how things work.

It makes me think about how I've maneuvered our healthcare system back home on different occasions. Have I kept seeing a doctor I don't really like several times because I think it is too difficult to switch? Yes. Have I ever chosen to pay for my appointment at a private practice to see a specialist because they can see me faster? Yes. Have I ever chosen to return to a private practicioner and pay every time simply because the office is nicer, the doctor is friendlier and staff is more welcoming? yes ...

American and Norwegian healthcare systems are very different on many levels and hard to compare, but depending on what health issue you have - whether you are here or there, you are sometimes likely to face stressors that you wish you didn't have to deal with in those cercomstances. In America, finance and insurance might be your biggest concern, in Norway, waiting in line and lack of information may add to your pain and frustration. Either way you find yourself wishing things were different, that those obstacles between you and healthcare where not there.

Having experienced both systems I'd say I still prefer social healthcare to the insurance healthcare. Knowing that you will be seen regardless of your life situation is, to me, invaluable. But there are definitely quality benefits of the power of choice that are worth reflecting upon. What if our social healthcare system was open to free choice and consumer ratings? What if you could choose to go to a specific medical center simply because you've learned that they perform better knee surgery with faster recovery, without having to pay private fees? And you'd be able to ask for a specific doctor to perform the surgery? What if hospital mistakes were publicly broadcasted and medical staff with unstable records were tagged with this on their online profiles? What if part of the health budget were distributed based on performance statistics, consumer feedback and number of visits ...?

Would this rock the foundation of a social healthcare system - or could it improve the quality of the service? Can public opinion serve as a motivator for quality performance regardless of profit and fear of lawsuit? It could at least make the the voice of the user matter more. And perhaps it could force the users into becoming more aware and responsible as social service consumers ...

Good things in life

Sometimes it strikes me how easy it is to feel happy. Other times it seems like the most difficult and hard reaching feeling in the world. But on a regular day, when nothing extraordinary is on the agenda, it's quite possible to identify some details that make you feel good. Here's a list of general things that made me happy today:

1. eating good food
2. reading good news
3. digital stuff working the way I expected
4. hearing an old tune that brought back good memories
5. chatting with good friends
6. a good hug from the one I love
7. being inside in a nice dry home while it's raining outside
8. looking forward to seeing a good film
9. knowing there's ice-cream in the freezer
10. having time for a nap - and managing to sleep

if you turn this list around, you might have the perfect description of a miserable day:

1. eating crappy food (and paying for it)
2. reading bad news
3. digital stuff that never works the way you expect
4. hearing an old tune you hoped you'd never hear again
5. not getting hold of your friends when you need to talk to them
6. rejection from someone you love
7. being outside in the rain far away from home, freezing
8. NOTHING to watch on TV
9. ice-cream tub in the freezer is empty
10. needing a nap, but too much stuff on your mind to be able to relax

... so getting out of bed with the right leg first kind of makes sense. It is interesting how subtle details can influence your day without you even noticing. Count the blessings ...?

Crashing and Waiting

The days are slowly passing by as due date is getting closer and pregnancy discomforts are requiring more and more attention. People are asking "when are you due?" "boy or a girl?" "how are you doing?" and life seems to be all about baby and belly at the moment.

But sometimes something happens which snaps you right out of the drowsy baby-state of mind, like when husband calls home to say he just crashed his motorbike.

"... Are you ok?" He says yes but I can hear that he's pretty shaken. It strikes me how vulnerable we are, just the two of us, one month before our son will be born. Every day Helge rides his bike to work. Every day he enjoys the ride and the feeling of freedom it provides. Then one day somebody hits him from behind while he's waiting for the green light. He's knocked hard off the lane, scratching the car in front of him on the side. He could do nothing to prevent it and all fault is on the driver that hit him. But he's on a bike. Bikes don't have airbags or doors or steel hulls. You're in the free space with your body, which is the bless and the doom of motorbiking.

He was lucky this time. He was pushed off to the side instead of being squeezed between the two cars. He didn't even tip over or fall off. And x-rays from the hospital confirms that the neck and the ribs are ok. Thank God.

Driving in Florida is a risky business. Every week, some of the highways are closed down for a while because of accidents. Heavy traffic and queues seems to be more often caused by accidents than by rush hour. Apparently Florida do not have laws against talking on the phone while driving. There are plenty of warnings around, huge bulletin boards along the highways saying TXT + DRIVE = RIP and similar word games, but it is not prohibited. Wearing a helmet when riding a motorbike is recommended, but not compulsory. So what do people do? They talk on the phone while switching lanes on 95 going 70 miles per hour (112 km/t) , and ride their bikes with wind in their ponytails.

I got my Florida driving license a couple of weeks ago. Since I'm foreign, I need to complete a full test like all first timers in the US, which means completing a theory test and do a proper driving test. Proper driving test means you need to prove that you can drive forward, backwards, turn, stop and park. The theory test is a multiple choice questionnaire on a touch screen that takes about 10 minutes to complete, you don't even sit down for it. I paid 49$ for the whole session and I could walk out with a temporary license, waiting for my ID card to arrive in the post a few days later.

So Florida has a lot of big roads, millions of cars with millions of drivers who acquired their license for the first time the same way I did (if they bother applying for it at all), talking on the phone while driving is a common habit, helmets are considered nerdy (luckily I have a sensibly nerdy husband) and drinking and driving is acceptable. Driving in Florida is a life risking necessity.

Helge was lucky this time. His helmet has scratches, which means if he'd been one of the many cool dudes that cruise around with only sunglasses and a scarf on the head, he probably would't be chatting normally with me in our living room right now. So what can we learn from this experience? Drive more carefully perhaps? We can always try - but the Florida traffic isn't going to change. I guess it remains a simple reminder of doing all the little things right, like wearing helmets, buckle up, NOT using the phone while driving, installing baby car seat correctly ... and hope for the best.

In about 5 weeks time we're bringing our baby home. Life is precious. That car seat will be installed weeks in advance, just in case.

In the wake of a Tragedy

Then it happens, 22 July 2011, in the tiny and peaceful country of Norway, the unthinkable but yet quite possible event of a terror attack. The lives of almost 100 people, most of them very young, are ruthlessly and meaninglessly stolen by a man who calls himself a Knight on a mission for his rightwing extremist beliefs. The country is mourning and the world condemn this violence.

The young people who survived the attacks on the Island have shared their stories of a horror hard to imagine. It proves these youngsters have bravely helped each other despite the terrifying death machine they were facing and saved several of their fellows lives. They also speak up for reacting to this terror with more openness, stronger connection between people and resistance to letting the fear manifest itself in our society. I'm proud and moved by the strength of these youngsters and I will support their appeal by doing my part of incorporating the attitude to my own life and relations.

All people, whatever cultural background or religious beliefs, have certain values in common; we all love and care about our close relations, we all seek belonging to build trust, harmony and safety for ourselves and our nearest. Anders Behring Breivik attacks these basic values in a time where the society consists of people from several different cultural backgrounds. He wants segregation, barriers and distance between people rather than cooperation, closeness and openness.

He will not succeed. Instead of responding with fear, individuals will reject his goals and respond by reaching out to all fellow citizens from all different cultural backgrounds and emphasize our common values. Our enemy will be defeated by building bridges instead of barriers, embrace the similarities instead of differences, move closer together by calling all people in our society "us" and the extremists within all cultures, all societies and even potentially within each one of us - as "them."

The source for growth for "them" is fear and the unknown. Perhaps we all at some point during the last days have felt the tight and uncomfortable grasp of the fear. "Them" have pinched us. Today, we all mourn the tragic and meaningless loss of our fellow citizens. In honor of the lost ones, each individual can fight for our common values and destroy "them" by moving closer together, holding each others hands, being there for each other, allowing openness, seeking understanding and respecting our differences. We are all human. We all belong. We need each other to live in peace.

American Healthcare Interference

If you get sick in America and need medical attention, it becomes a matter of money. Therefore, people invest in health insurance so that when something happens, the least they need to worry about is finances - their insurance companies will take care of that.

Not quite. It seems reality is a bit of a mismatch with this idea.

I came upon an article in the New York Times that illustrates very well the nature of so called health insurance: Insured, but personally bankrupt. The article highlights how most people who become personally bankrupt after illness in USA, are people who actually have insurance. Unless you pay an insane amount of money every month, like $1.000,- (which is equivalent to 5425,- NOK with todays currency rate. Per month.) - you're basically left in the gutter if you should be so unfortunate as to need serious medical attention. If you're in a risk category, like - having a potential heart condition, your insurance will be so expensive that you might be better off without it. Then at least you're not up for surprises. A quick glance at the readers comments to this article shows very clearly how a lot of Americans feel about their health insurance system. Words like fraud, scam, inhumane reappear several times. 

I have gained an experience of my own with the health insurance while living here. Now that I'm pregnant I need to visit the healthcare provider on a regular basis. We are covered well through Helge's employment and financing health issues should't be a problem. So then it should be easy, right?

This is the country of freedom of choice - so choosing the right provider is the first step on the journey of being looked after. But I got to learn quickly that as a patient - you don't choose a provider, they choose you. They will "accept you" only if you have an insurance that they are dealing with. So choices are quickly limited to providers "in-network" with our insurance company, and the easiest way of finding a doctor will be from an address list of in-network providers - from our insurance company. 

Fair enough, limiting my choices might make it easier to find the right place. It would have been really helpful though if the insurance company also had some kind of information about the different doctors in their network to prevent me from going for a bad one. Like, feedback from other users, reputations they knew of - anything. But hey - they're an insurance company not a service provider. They guard the finances, not the people being treated so it is kind of a long shot to ask for. 

So I picked a bad provider. And before I could see any health assistant, I had to fill out a chunk of paperwork for the insurance company - with questions regarding my health history, my husbands health history, my family's health history and my husbands family's health history, questions about recent medications taken and a whole bunch of declarations to sign that stated everything the provider would withdraw responsibility from in case of things going wrong. The paperwork took me about 45 minutes to complete. Then I waited for about an hour more before I was called in. My first visit lasted for nearly 3 hours all together - nearly 2 hours in the waiting room, 5 minutes with the doctor and the rest of the time with a very unfriendly nurse. To be fair I can't really blame the insurance company for that.

I went to this provider a couple of times, but after they lost my urine sample, asked me sensitive medical questions in front of other patients, made me pay extra for having blood drawn (which is kind of standard procedure during pregnancy) and generally treating me like a parcel on a factory belt - I thought I'd better find a different doctor. 

So I did. I picked another one from the list and this time I did some research on the internet as well to check possible online user reviews. I called to book an appointment and the first thing they asked me was "What kind of insurance do you have, m'am." 

This reply seems to be a standard procedure when you call a new provider but it strikes me every time what a financial engine the whole healthcare system is. The providers are not even concerned about your reason for calling before they know how you'll pay for it. 

I told them "Europeiske - or Euro-center." 

"We don't accept international insurance" was the brief reply. 

"But you're on their list of in-network providers" I argued. 

"But we don't accept international insurance" She said again. 

"I got your phone number from my insurance company, and they're not international!" I said.

 She got annoyed and repeated "well that doesn't mean anything - I believe it is international and we do not accept that insurance! Sorry. Have a nice day."

And so started a long string of phone calls between me, our insurance company and the doctors office which ended with our insurance clerk booking an appointment for me. 

The new healthcare provider was - after finally being able to get an appointment with them - far better than the previous one. They could also offer me a choice between seeing a regular doctor, like in the other place - or a midwife with 30 years of experience and very good documentations. I was open to meeting the midwife and check out the natural birth thing and I've continued seeing the midwife regularly. She's great and things have been going well so far. 

Then on my last appointment I was faced with another insurance issue: At the counter, when signing in for my appointment, the assistant told me that my insurance company had refused to pay the charges up till now because they've discovered I'm seeing the midwife and not the doctor. They will not cover midwife assistance, only doctor. So in order to see the midwife that day I had to pay out of pocket right there and then or else we had to swop the care plan and continue the follow up with the nurse and the doctor instead. 

"Is this real?" I thought. My insurance company wants to decide how I'll give birth to my baby and who is entitled to do the regular prenatal check ups on me? They could't care less wether I'm seeing a good or a bad provider, wether I feel well looked after or terrified - but they do want to decide wether I give birth in a safe birth center (with a doctor back-up), or in a hospital, and wether a midwife or a doctor is assisting me.  

"... so how much money are we talking, exactly?" I replied. She said they'd allow me to pay half of the sum to make it easier for me - "that would be $1997,-."

I tried to do the maths to grasp the amount she was asking for but I was too focused on concealing my anger and avoiding breaking out in tears. I decided to refuse being dictated by a totally f... up insurance regime so I pulled out my Norwegian Visa card and drew the 11.000,- NOK from my account. Then she let me through to my prenatal appointment with the midwife. 

The receipt is on it's way to the insurance company and hopefully with a lot of pressure from my husbands employer - they will reimburse it. After all, as expats for DNV we are supposed to be well covered. Still don't know what will happen with the rest of my prenatal care, though. Would be really nice if my own preferences was prioritized. This is the country of freedom of choice, isn't it? 

Thank God I'm not having complications. With all this hassle for a regular check up, I don't even want to think about what insurance joy we might face if I need any care out of the ordinary. Thing is - you really need to be mentally fit for fight to put up with all the negotiations, questions, paperwork, disappointments, reclaim rejections, arguing, phone calls and emails required to get the coverage you're supposed to have. And who are really up for that when they got serious health issues to worry about ...? Be sure the health insurance companies are well aware of that.   

There are several actors in the healthcare industry that contribute to making general healthcare appear inaccessible and problematic. Although the actions and interference by the insurance companies can cause a fair amount of frustration, they are not running the show alone. Medical companies, lawyers, greedy doctors, front ends in the doctors offices and politicians all play their parts. Bottom line is - the health industry is a race about money, leaving the actual patients - who should have been the centre of attention, as nothing but peasants on a large chessboard where profit is at stake. I feel sorry for Americans, and I feel kind of grateful for being Norwegian. In Norway, healthcare might not be perfect, but it is free, covered by the government through taxes. I know that for a lot of Americans this sounds like boundaries of socialism and lack of individual freedom. But at as far as I know - nobody feels like peasants on a chessboard in a game to large to grasp.  

Returning to Miami with Lena

A month in Europe was a welcoming break from the every day Miami life. The cultural differences between Miami and Oslo are part of the great experience, though sometimes also kind of exhausting. But enough about that for now - it was quite a luxury feeling returning to Miami without having to study for an exam anymore. Making it even better, I was accompanied on my return by a good old friend in top holiday mode.

Lena and I arrived in Miami on May 24th. The evening sun was still glimmering in the tall buildings as we drove from the airport back to our flat. The heat felt nice and relaxing. We had a drink on he balcony in the sunset before unpacking and discussed plans for the upcoming days. Without any rush or exhausting sightseeing we managed to do a lot during the 7 days of Lena's visit. In danger of sounding a bit nerdy - I think jetlag from Norway did us a favor by forcing us out of bed pretty early every morning. The day becomes so much longer starting at 7 or 8 am than starting at noon. Even on holiday.

We did some sightseeing on Miami Beach and downtown Miami, had lunch in the Miami design district, went on alligator safari, went shopping, did the motorbiking thing, spent time on the beach ...

Walking on the beach was one of those favorite activities that we did more than once. The heat has picked up in this tropical area so walking in the morning is preferable.

Even though you can only walk in two different directions - north or south - every walk provides some new experiences, especially if you're a person who enjoys paying attention to details in your surroundings.

During one of our morning walks, we came across an eeny-wheeny little baby crab that was washed far ashore by the waves. It was so small that it didn't even have a hard shell on its body. We both found it kind of sad watching it struggle to get back into the water. A couple of meters of sand looked like a couple of miles of desert for the little fellow.

Lena took pity on him and wanted to help the little creature back into it's desired environment. She picked it up very gently, studied it in her palm for a moment, then pulled her arm back to throw it as far out into the sea as possible. I think the intention was to throw the little thing far enough into the sea so that another wave ride was unlikely to bring it back onto the beach. For me it was like observing a passionate full force pitch in slow motion - resulting an a very confused expression on Lena's face because she instantly lost sight of the crab after it left her hand. The little creature did not fly out into the ocean the way one should expect from the direction of the throw. Due to the wind from the sea, it went straight up in the air, slightly backwards and right back at Lena, almost hitting her in the face on its way down.

Lena felt guilty for contributing to making the crabs life a bit more miserable than it already was and we decided to stop interfering with nature and move on.


One of the many great pleasures in Miami and surroundings, like mentioned before, is food. Lena's holiday album also reveals taking part in this pleasure. You can name whatever possible imaginable food and probably find a place for it somewhere in Miami. But the fun thing is finding the good spots, the celebrated and famous places where chef's have enjoyed great renome and publicity year after year and the staff is dedicated to sticking to the style and tradition they're well known for.

Joe's Stone Crabs is a place like that. Apparently the place has been there for more than 90 years which is considered a pretty long time according to American timescale. We decided to check it out during Memorial Weekend, on the Sunday.

I'll definitely support their reputation - nice place, great atmosphere and really nice crab. Slightly different crab experience this time - no cute little baby crabs, only large dangerous claws that you would't get anywhere near if they were alive.

The waitress explained to us that since we're outside of crab season, the stone crabs that they could offer were crab claws from Alaska. The way they harvest these claws is by pulling them off the bodies of live crabs and dropping the crab bodies back into the sea so that the claws can grow back out again. We looked at each other and were all thinking that this sounds a bit cruel ... But we were at the famous crab shack to eat some crab so what the hell - we went for those claws. Alaska is pretty far away anyways.

Crab claws is heavy food so after dinner we felt like walking it off a bit and perhaps stop for a drink at the Ocean Drive. We headed down to the happening strip of Miami Beach, Since it was Memorial weekend and holiday on the Monday, it was closed for traffic and the street was packed with partying people.

At first - we were quite startled by how many women were walking around with nothing but their bikinis on. Bikinis, stilettos, impressive hair and makeup. Guys on the other hand, were fully dressed. We kept walking, and the crowd got more and more tight and intense. We started noticing eventually that we were the only white people walking on Ocean Drive. There were no white people, no Asian looking, no Latin Americans (more than half of the population in Miami is of latin american heritage). The crowd consisted of purely black people. And all the pubs and clubs along the strip were playing rap music.

When you become aware of being the only white face in a big partying crowd of black people - and you're grown up in Scandinavia and do not have experience from living in Africa or on the Caribbean Islands during your life - this sudden self awareness may struck you as lightening. It certainly did for us. We all started feeling uncomfortably out of place. Many of the guys around us could all have been previous or potential basketball players - they were not little. They made Helge look like a white little lamb lost in a herd of bulls.

The crowd kept getting tighter and tighter and we started pushing our way trough the masses of people. One of us suggested perhaps it was time to head back to the car which none of us had a problem with so we turned around, forced our way out of the crowd towards a sideway, passed a few police cars and road barriers and headed back towards Joe's. We figured a drink at home would be just as good.

Back home in the flat we checked out wether some kind of special event was on because seeing only one race of people in a place like Miami Beach is kind of extraordinary. And not surprisingly - we found plenty of announcements for Black Weekend at South Beach on the internet. That explains it.

The next morning we heard on the news that 8 people were shot near Ocean Drive in the early hours, and apparently the shooter got "peppered" by the police afterwards. Kind of reliving to say that we were not there when it happened. The shooting was caught on video by some of the people that happened to be there though, and the video is out on youtube. Social media at it's full potential.

It is kind of interesting that observing dangerous animals from a close distance gives you a exiting thrill, whereas getting lost in a crowd of people you are not familiar with might be a frightening experience. It is the unfamiliar in the familiar perhaps - that freak us out. We know our own kind but yet clues about something unknown makes us insecure. We don't know what to do or how to behave. On the other hand - the deadly animals are in the category "deadly animals - be cautious" so that's easy.

The week Lena was here flew by and 1 June it was time to go home. It was great having her visiting and it made me feel like I was on holiday myself, nice break from daily Miami life. Although daily life is pretty good living, being on holiday where you live kind of gives the surroundings a fresh appearance. So thanks for that, Lena! Hope to see you here again.

Genuine Food and Another Happy Visitor

I've had a new invigorating experience in the Miami design district. First of all, going there on a Friday instead of in the weekend reveales a lot of shop content unaccessible during the weekends. Not only are all the shops open, but all the shops seems to have "more than what the eye can catch in a glimpse" to them. Several shops have another room in the back, in the second floor or in the backyard with something different than what they have in front. Either a gallery, or just different stuff. I found two great photography books in the back of Tomas Maier swimwear and fashion shop.

Most of the shops also have staff that are chatty and welcoming - and very happy to talk about the concept of the store, the background of the designer or artists they represent - without making you feel guilty for not buying anything. It is like walking in a district full of little galleries for you to explore - and if you happen to find an item you can afford to buy, then good for you. If not, enjoy the experience nevertheless.

The reason for being there this time was to show this happening place to my friend Anne Gro who was visitng. She loved it. She bought a pair of shoes in my favorite architecture designer shoes/ contemporary photography shop! I was delighted. I hope she is too. Chances are low she'll ever bump into anybody in our beloved home country wearing the same pair of fabulous shoes. And she says they're even comfortable. So this is what shoes designed by an architect can look like:

All the houses in the design district are quite low compared to other areas of downtown Miami, so the afternoon sun sticks around in the streets until sunset. After strolling around for a few hours Anne Gro and I went to an italian-like place with a nice outdoor bar for a happy hour cocktail. The place is called Maitardi and is decorated with mosaic tiles on round walls with trees perfectly placed around the yard for a light shadow on the sun-warm guest. We were sad to leave before sunset as Anne Gro had to catch her plane back to Norway.

Before getting into the car we did a little iphone photoshoot of Anne Gro's new shoes. A photo-team lined up next to us to shoot some fashion shots against the purple wall in the great low sunlight. It made my fabulous iphone feel very small in my hands all of a sudden ... but I caught the fashion people from the car after we finished our session:

I have to mention one more thing from our visit to the district this Friday afternoon. Before walking around, we had lunch at a new favorite food experience place: Michael's Genuine . It really is what the name implies - A thoroughly genuine food experience.

Most of the ingredients in the food they serve are gathered from local producers. Just the idea of this makes me happy. The food also taste unique, different and ... delicious. I had a shrimp salad with local, juicy shrimp, all kinds of local green leaves, nuts and carrots and some kind of delicate, tasty wine vinaigrette. Wouldn't be able to recreate this salad at home. It was the best salad I've had as far as I can remember.

Anne Gro also had a salad, but with tender slices of local beef strips drizzled on top. She was very pleased as well. Our lunch dragged out simply because we both enjoyed the experience of just sitting there in this peculiar, calm and laid back yet trendy place, absorbing the concept, the people, the mild temperature and the fabulous tastes. I also had a dessert. Of course. A greek (oh! imported) frozen yoghurt with local strawberries and a balsamic sauce. Some things just taste so good that you end up feeling sad when the bowl is empty.

The pleasures of the design district are never ending. But Anne Gro stayed with us for a bit more than a week, so she did more than dining and shopping designer shoes in the district. She also had the famous ride on Helge's Harley,

went shopping in the giant malls nearby,
got a tan,
drank margaritas,
watched basketball on TV in a local sportsbar,
had drinks at DeLano,
observed alligators from a few meters distance ...

explored the Vizcaya castle and gardens ...

and hang out on South Beach and in Fort Lauderdale.

She also witnessed my never-ending aggression against our GPS ... We have a new car (which is very nice, I don't need to feel so intimidated by the big trucks around anymore). But our new car also has a new GPS, which is behaving differently than the old one. It feels like having to learn a new language now that I finally understood the previous one. Luckily I know my way around a lot of places by now and don't need to use it that much. Luckily. Or else the GPS monitor would've be in danger of being broken.

Anne Gro was sad to go home, which seems to be the norm when people come to visit. The sun, the heat and the breeze from the ocean tend to add an ease to life which makes it difficult to feel stressed or upset for a very long time. We might get tired of living here eventually. But for now - I don't really want to go anywhere else.

Speaking of Americans ...

Americans are probably THE one nationality in the world that everyone else knows something about - and has an opinion about.

Opinions are based on stereotypes, often wrongly interpreted. I'll admit I've had plenty of opinions about Americans, based on my personal impressions in different situations, on media presentations and on other peoples experiences. For a large part of my life - I believe I've searched to confirm my established negative impressions about Americans, American culture and American politics. I guess I perceive a large part of the American exposure as threatening to my personal values. But then again, attributing this fear to Americans in general could be a bit of a mistake.

I live in the USA for the second time in my life, and my "American-schema" is about to change. Tags are changing label, meanings are being modified. I'd like to pick on these stereotypical tags and explore the substance of them a bit further. Let's start with a fairly well used stereotypical statement: - Americans are loud and obnoxious -

My impression is that individual Americans are generally louder than individuals from other countries, even Canada. Much louder. Why is that?

Here in America, it seems to be more important to be heard than to be listened to. It is a very individualistic society, and being heard means you're being noticed, which could be the first step on the ladder of being socially accepted. If you're the quiet type, nobody waits for you to speak. You're responsible for making and taking your own space. And when you do that, you will receive loud compliments and encouragements from fellow Americans.

There is a lot of background noice wherever you go, always a TV on, a radio, music, people talking, cars ... Even in the life drawing class I'm attending, they put on the radio while drawing. Normally the classical channel, but nevertheless, complete quietness is very hard to find. Where there are people - there is noice.

If you are in the elevator with an American, he or she is very likely to start talking to you. The Americans I've met so far seem to be pretty bad at handling quietness when around other people. It becomes "awkward". So they talk, to wear away the fear of the unfamiliar quiet.

Whenever an American steps out of the elevator, they say "Have a good day" or "good night" or whatever is suitable. When they enter, they greet you, saying "Hello, how are you" or, "Hello, wow, how tall are you?" ... Apart from the proposed fear of quietness and the addiction to some kind of noice, this socially oriented behavior makes people feel ... acknowledged. Perhaps being noticed and acknowledged is a primary factor in this individualistic society for feeling a certain belonging. Being noticed also requires someone to notice you. One comes with the other, loud self promotion is accompanied with loud and vivid external appreciation.

So yes, Americans are loud - and it seems to be part of survival in the American culture. Once used to it, it actually becomes kind of charming. But rude and obnoxious? I'd say they're closer to overdoing the polite and friendliness than being rude. Nobody makes you feel more noticed and appreciated than Americans. Nobody greets you clearer and louder when you meet than Americans. And where else in the world will people you don't even know wish you a wonderful day - every day? And who else but Americans splash out on compliments to you without even knowing you? (Well, except for cheesy italian guys or generally folks on a pick-up mission Saturday night - but they do not count in this setting) And what other country in the world contains so many different nationalities - and has a culture for incorporating them into one nation, as America ...? Americans, we hear you.

Thesi and Raz - Snowbirds turn Beach Bums

Thesi and Raz came down for a visit last Wednesday. The weather wasn't all that great - but for the newly arrived snowbirds from Montreal it was more than good enough.

True to tradition, the first thing we girls did after placing the luggage in the guest room, was to get a manicure and pedicure done. Raz went for his first walk on the beach. When Helge got home from work we went to our nearest tiki-bar and experienced sitting by the water and freezing for the first time since we arrived. It was the coldest night in a long time, almost below 20C.

The next morning Thesi and Raz wanted to go shopping, and we went to Aventura Mall. I'm being treated like a celebrity at the Banana Republic store in this mall after bringing both my younger sisters there. But this time my guests came out empty handed. "What's wrong with them!" I thought. Living in Montreal, I guess ... being used to having some of the best underground shopping streets in the world in their home city. I've been there a few times, and I must admit I've been pretty much broke after every visit.

The shopping might not have been Thesi and Raz's favourite thing in Florida - but the beach certainly was. They praised the beach, walked along the shore every morning and went down to get some sun every now and then. I believe they both finished a book or two while laying flat on the beach beds chilling and digging the sun.

At the beach one day, Raz pointed out his observation of the main difference between locals and visitors; their skin color. I have, according to the alert visitor, been here long enough to pass as a local, whereas they were, pointing at his wife's legs, the obvious visitors.

Friday Helge was able to get some time of work, and after a walk on our local beach we headed down to South Beach for some lunch, at Jerry's Famous Deli.

Jerry's diner looks like a candy shop on the outside and a classic Art Deco ballrom on the inside. The atmosphere is laid back and nice, the waiters are charmingly slow and look like they've been working there since the very beginning (sometimes in the 70's). The menu is so crowded that it is impossible to really get an overview of all they have to offer. But it looks cool. I spotted out an avocado burger to order which tasted pretty good.

My most memorable food item at Jerry's however was my milkshake. I haven't had a milkshake since last time i lived in this country, in 1994. And boy do they have GREAT milkshakes. I asked for one as a dessert without looking at the menu and the laid back waiter said they had all kinds of milkshakes; chocolate, rasberry, banana ... "Ooh, rasberry sounds nice" I said, "OK, rasberry" the waiter said and stumbled along to make me a rasberry milkshake. He came back a few minutes later and said:
"Rasberry was no good, ma'm, vanilla ok?"
"No rasberry?"
"No, m'am, no rasberry - so, you want vanilla?"
"No, I don't really want the vanilla, what else do you got?"
"We got chocolate - you want chocolate?"
"... What else do you got?"
"we got Chocolate, vanilla ... strawberry ... "
"Strawberry! Yes, I'd like a strawberry milkshake, please"
"not the vanilla?"
"no I'd like the strawberry, please"
"a'right, strawberry."

The waiter seemed almost disappointed about my choice and moved slowly back to the milkshake machine and a bit later we heard the bang and the loud wizz and the clunk and my strawberry milkshake was on it's way. It was absolutely delicious. After a couple of sips Raz got so envious that he had to order one as well. He'd already complained loudly several times that he was stuffed like a teddybear. Raz had been served an avocado burger, although he asked for an chicken avocado sandwitch, and he got an ice tea when asking for an ice coffee - which the waiter corrected by giving him an ice coffee for free in addition to his tea. He was up for some serious peeing after that meal. But he too loved his milkshake. He ordered chocolate and got chocolate sirup on top.

We did a lot of eating while Thesi and Raz were here, and I have to say eating is one of the goodies in this area. There is plenty of food in all possible categories of prizes, origin, content, philosophy, style and outlet - from oversized sandwitches from a hole in the wall to fine little delicacies hardly visible on the plate in fancy restaurants.

The last evening we paid a new visit to our local Churrascaria. Helge and I have been there before and knew what we were up for. We tried warning our guests, but it has to be experienced to really understand what the concept is about. You sit down, get a brief introduction from the waiter, go to the salad and sides bar to pick your complementaries and start eating. Then the waiters walk around with their barbecue meat on sticks and slices of a piece for you of whatever you want. As much as you want. And the meat is very, very good, perfectly cooked, brazilian style. It is fun, but dangerous. Raz was very exited, best concept he'd seen for a long time, he said. Thesi loved it too. She thought she brought back a small salad from the salad bar to start with but she found herself working on those greens during the whole meal, between chewing one juicy, tasty meat slice after the other brought directly from the grill on to her plate. We all over-ate. Nobody slept well through the night. But it was worth it.

The days went by slowly, comfortable, with as little hassle and as much sun, sand and food as possible. We also managed to spend some time in the Design District and hang out on South Beach. Thesi and Raz did not face the challenge with overweight luggage going back home, I bet the seats on the plane were more likely to be the problem ... :-) It was lovely having their company here for a week, hope they'll come again.

Tove i Miami

Neste søster Winnæss er på besøk, og vertskapet har siste uken fått en ny mulighet til å utforske mer av hva dette fascinerende området vi bor i har å by på. I tillegg til spa, shopping, sol og strand, som er så og si inkludert i reisen hit, har vi vært ute i downtown Miami og spist sinnsyk middag, sett Miami University Hurricanes Womens basketball kamp live, sett NBA kamp på pub'en og spist kyllingvinger med bluecheese saus og hengt i Design District.

Design District er kult. Området ligger litt nord for downtown og består av lave hus, brede gater, design butikker, kunst gallerier, veggmalerier og gode restauranter. Noen av butikkene er kombinert butikk og galleri - som en av mine favoritter: vakre sko designet av en nederlandsk arkitekt kombinert med kinesisk contemporary foto ...

Tove kjøpte seg en kjole i en av de lekre butikkene. Mens vi sto og betalte kom det et følge inn som bl.a. besto av en mann i hvit dress, solbriller og en neonfarget jackson hatt med liten chihuaha på armen, og supermodell-slank dame i 10 cm høye stiletthæler og en syltrang kort sort kjole. Og store solbriller. De hilste på damen bak disken som om de var omgangsvenner. Jeg måtte kaste et blikk på kassen for å se hva kjolen egentlig kostet igjen - men den var faktisk ikke rødmende dyr. Ikke etter norske forhold, iallefall. Og ikke etter at disse gjestene entret arenaen.

Basketkampen var utrolig gøy å se. Hurricanes banket Wake Forrest med 30 poeng. For å si det sånn, hvis det hadde vært meg som varmet opp for å spille mot Miami Hurricanes, så hadde jeg vært på gråten av redsel. De "kicker some motherfucking ass" ... ikke noe vits å begynne å krangle med de damene der. Tipper de banker en god del av de norske herrelagene også.

De var sabla gode, og tøffe, var litt sånn Cecilia Brækhus preg over hele gjengen - og det beste var at for 5 dollar kunne vi sitte akkurat hvor nære vi ville, folk strømmer ikke til damekamper i dette landet. Til sammenligning betaler man 385 dollar for en bra plass på en NBA kamp hvis man ikke er veldig tidlig ute og kjøper season tickets ...

Det hører med å kjøre seg bort når man skal finne nye steder - og vi fikk oss en rundtur rundt Miami International airport før vi tilslutt kom oss på rett vei mot Coral Gables og Miami University. Vi brukte ca 2 timer ned og 40 minutter hjem igjen. Jeg mener GPS'n roter oss bort, men Tove er glad for at den tross alt klarte å rote oss ut igjen av den knuten vi kjørte oss fast i. Eller som JEG kjørte oss fast i, for å være korrekt.

Tove har også fått seg en rundtur på Helges motorsykkel - som endte med ny MC jakke på Harley sjappa. Hun kler den. Jeg synes den er diskre og fin - men Tove mener den er ganske "bling, bling". Kanskje jeg har vært her lenge nok til at det moderate norske har bleknet litt. Kul er den, iallefall.

Egentlig først og ikke minst må vår middag på Zuma nevnes. Dag, Helges kollega, booket et bord på det ettertraktede hang out stedet i god tid og Tove's første møte med Miami var en tur i limo ned til downtown, vorspiel hos Dag i 38 etg med utsikt over byen og en sinnsyk 5 retters asiatisk inspirert middag på en tettpakket, trendy, se-og-bli-sett hotshot restaurant i første etage. Maten var noe av det beste jeg har smakt her nede, og avslutningen av måltidet var et båtfat med 5 forskjellige desserter elegant dandert over isblokker. Det smakte himmelsk. Tove knipset bilder av rettene for at de ikke skulle glemmes. Hvis du helst ikke vil se - så ikke scroll nedover nå.

God og mett og med sprengfull koffert flyr Tove tilbake til Oslo imorgen, kledd i MC jakke og med designerkjole, Nike sko og Miami Hurricanes t-shorte i baggasjen. Farge har hun også fått - kanskje til og med litt i overkant bakpå leggene? Det er det verdt, tror jeg.

Hverdagens små forskjeller

Jeg begynner å komme over de store, overveldende forskjellene her i forhold til hjemme i lille Oslo. Nå begynner de små men ikke ubetydelige hverdags-forskjellene å bli framtredende.

En ting som slo meg forleden er hvordan vår amerikanske handleliste for dagligvarer har endret seg. Før, i Oslo, kunne en vanlig handleliste se omtrent sånn ut:

appelsinjuice
melk
brød
kaffe
yoghurt
blå farris

Men i valgenes store land, er listen noe mer avansert:

Florida Natural Orange juice, most pulp
Organic Valley lowfat milk
Whole wheat publix bakery bagels
Starbucks Coffee Verona, Bold
Stoneyfield organic youghurt
Pelligrino

Hva har skjedd? Er vi mer kvalitetsbevisste? Tviler på det, men en eller annen form for bevissthetsprosess har slått til. Med en million valgmuligheter for EN vare, må man "tune inn" og bli merkebevisst, ellers risikerer man å bli en smule nedbrutt etter en handletur ...

Ganske interessant hvordan hjernen vår fungerer sånn sett i psykologisk perspektiv (Jobber med å se hverdagen i psykologisk perspektiv så mye som mulig for tiden).

Vi har kodet inn noen kriterier på forhånd og scanner omgivelsene for å fange opp det vi forventer å se. På Kiwi i Norge scanner jeg etter "appelsinjuice" og fnner kansje to typer: med eller uten kjøtt. Enkelt. Her i USA er det minst fire hyllemeter kun med appelsinjuice. Istedet for å gi tapt for følelsen av avmakt fordi man er tvunget til å gjøre valg basert på veldig lite kunnskap - og heller kjøpe vann istedet, lærer man seg å skille mellom 100 forskjellige juicer ved å fange opp noen såkalt betydningsfulle detaljer. I butikken gjør vi samme øvelse - scanner hylla etter noe kjent og finner kjapt vår favoritt "Florida Natural Orange juice," for så å velge mellom: no pulp, with pulp og most pulp.

Den er kjempegod, men om den er den beste på markedet kan jeg ikke uttale meg om. Tok meg noen runder før jeg fant en grunn til å velge akkurat den ... Jeg lette vel etter noe som kunne fange min interesse, et eller annet som gjorde at den var mer interessant enn de andre. For meg. Den har lite tilsetningstoffer og er laget av lokale råvarer. Hurra! Favoritt. Puh.

Når man vrir litt på det så er det et paradoks at amerikanere kan velge mellom flere hundre forskjellige appelsinjuicer i en butikk - men kan kun velge mellom to presidentkandidater for hele landet. Der gjelder plutselig "gjør det enkelt for velgeren" - mens ellers i hverdagen dreier demokrati seg om å ha alle mulige valgmuligheter. På ting som egentlig ikke betyr så mye ...

En annen interessant erfaring er at på stort sett alle restauranter er det gratis påfyll av brus. Man skulle tro at de har brus rett fra kranen og vann i dyrbare flasker på kjølern. Aner ikke hvorfor, men antar at brus konsumeres så enormt mye i dette landet at prisen per enhet er tullete lav. Amerikas folkedrikk nr 1.

Jeg har opplevd å "fordrikke" meg på brus. Følger man ikke med så kan man fort ha konstant fullt glass. Og vi drikker til det er tomt, ikke sant - i god norsk ånd. Min erfaring er at det er bedre å drikke øl, for da har man kontroll over hvor mye man drikker. Om ikke annet blir konsumet iallefall dokumentert på regningen tilslutt.

Amerikanere er tilhengere av alt som er søtt, og i tråd med supermarkeddemokratiet - så har man også valgmuligheter når det gjelder hvordan man ønsker å tilsette sukker til kaffen etter middag. Cafe Nuvo i Espanola Way kunne tilby 3 forskjellige typer kalorifattige "sweeteners" og to ekte sukker typer. Litt for enhver smak.

Søtt er også stikkordet for Valentines Day. På hver mulige stoppeplass langs veiene og i boder ved bensinstasjonene har selgere stått i over en uke før den store dagen og solgt rosa bamser med røde hjerter på, i alle mulige størrelser og fasonger. Alle matvarebutikker har kjøpt inn tonnevis med hjertesjokolader og roser og røde gassbalonger. Restauranter stiller med Valentines pakker, og alt er så søtt at man kjenner smaken av sukkerspinn bare av å rusle rundt på Mall'en. Selv har jeg en norsk mann som ikke falt for fristelsen å kjøpe en rosa teddybjørn med hjerter på. Han falt heller ikke for fristelsen å booke bord på romantisk restaurant for å overraske meg ...

Men han kom hjem fra jobb med en champagne under armen, gåselever som tilbehør og roser til å pynte bordet med. Det funker det også.

Ellers har vi så smått begynt på argentinsk tango kurs på Aventura Dancing. Det er gøy - men ganske vrient å få basisen til å sitte. Og vi er to nordiske kjemper i forsamlingen ... Jeg er overbevist om at jeg hører gutta svelge litt hardt når instruktøren ber oss om å bytte partnere og en liten stakkar må danse med meg. Sånn sett er det mest komfortabelt å danse med Helge. Men vi har også en tendens til å tråkke hverandre litt på tærne foreløpig. "Du følger jo ikke musikken" klager jeg, og Helge mener at jeg beveger meg før han, og det skal jeg ikke. Vel, med litt tålmodighet og litt hjemmeøving så tenker jeg vi kommer oss over nybegynner kneika og sveiper gulvet med stil!

Nok en interessant hverdagsforskjell er hvordan Aventura Dancing følger opp de som tar kontakt for å prøve seg på kurs. Jeg ble ringt opp like etter påmeldingen på web for å bekrefte første time. Så ringte de igjen 45 minutter før timen for å høre om vi fortsatt hadde tenkt å møte opp. Dagen etter første time var de på tråden igjen for å høre om vi synes det var OK og om vi kunne tenke oss å sette opp en time til. Og jammen ringte de igjen på vei til time nr 2.

Lokalet ligger i noen mørke lagerbygninger 15 min unna der vi bor, godt unna stranden og med et stort skilt utenfor som sier: Do Not Leave Any Valuables in Your Car! Litt annen stemning enn i vår trygge, glattpolerte tilværelse i strand-tårnet. Og godt er det - vi skal jo lære argentinsk tango. I Miami.

Kari On the Road - besøk i Miami

Første familie-gjest har vært her. Kari landet på Miami International tirsdag 1 februar og dro igjen med hengende hode mandagen etter. Hvorfor hengende hode? Jo - fordi fra Norge rapporteres det om slaps og snø og her i Miami har det vært årets flotteste uke sånn værmessig.

Livsstilen er ikke å forrakte den heller. Vi startet onsdagen med en 4 timers spa - hårklipp, farge, manikyr og pedikyr for oss begge. Ble litt dyrere enn forventet fordi her i landet skal alle som gjør noe som helst for deg tipses, og "keep the change" holder ikke - minimum 15% forventes. Gir du mindre så gir du et signal om at behandlingen ikke var god nok. Det virker nesten som om at folk som jobber med en eller annen form for service rett og slett ikke får lønn ... Kanskje derfor det er så mye som er ganske billig. Likevel - Miami er en dyr by sånn sett i sammenheng med andre steder i dette landet.

Etter vår spa indulgence dro vi rett ned på South Beach, kjøpte oss hver vår Sandwitch El Grande og la oss ned på stranden. Sandwitchen kjøpte vi i et hull i veggen to kvartaler opp fra beachen. Jeg ba om en tunfisk sandwitch og mannen bak disken spurte "with everything?" så jeg sa "sure" uten å vite helt hva det innebar. Det ble en hel baguette med tunfisk + EVERYTHING for å si det sånn ... løk, tomat, agurk, sylteagurk, salat, paprika, chili, mayones, kapers, avocado +++... Baguetten måtte balanseres med stødig hånd for å ikke velte tårnet av stæsj når jeg forsøkte å bite over verket. Men godt var det!

Etter noen timer med soling, bading og "people-watching" på beachen ruslet vi opp i Lincoln Rd for å, tja, titte, shoppe og henge litt. Kari's øyne var ca tre ganger så store som de vanligvis er og hodet var i konstant bevegelse. Butikkene, folk, lysene, gatene, lydene, husene, restaurantene - alt er mye større, kraftigere og mer enn hva man er vandt til. Vi svinset innom Victoria's Secret og handlet litt der, French Connection hadde salg rett over gata så vi handlet litt der også, før vi gikk tilbake til bilen og kjørte hjemover for å spise middag sammen med Helge. Middagen ble fortært på en lokal sportsbar og vi satt i en bås og spiste kyllingvinger og så på basket på TV.

Torsdagen ble vi enige om å forsøke å få lest litt. Kari er også student. Vi tok med oss bøker ned til bassenget, fant oss hver vår solseng + en parasoll og åpnet bøkene. Dette var antageligvis den varmeste dagen og gradestokken krøp opp mot 30C. Svetten piplet og solen stekte og det var ikke lett å holde øynene åpne og fokusert på skriften på sidene i boka ... Kari duppet litt av etterhvert, jeg fikk lest et halvt kapittel før vi ble sultne og bestilte litt lunch i poolbaren. De kunne levere maten hvor som helst sa de, så vi sa mange takk, da tar vi den gjerne borte i en av solhyttene på hjørnet av bassenget. Og dit kom maten. Og en øl til hver. Så var det over og ut med lesing den dagen.

Helge kom hjem fra jobb litt tidigere enn ventet og spurte om Kari var keen på en motorsykkeltur før det blir mørkt. Det var hun. De freste en runde opp til Fort Lauderdale og tilbake og Kari ble like frelst som meg etter min første tur så vi måtte se litt Sons of Anarchy på TV etterpå for å trekke ut rusen i det lengste.

Fredag var også varm og solfylt og vi begynnte dagen med en løpetur på stranden. Denne gangen var stranden invadert av tusenvis av blå, rare, gjennomsiktige plastbobler som vi først trodde var søppel, dvs faktisk ligner de litt på oppblåste kondomer, men vi tenkte at det må ha vært litt av et cruise som hadde passert dersom så mange kondomer skulle vært dumpet i sjøen og skyldt opp på Hallandale beach ...

Mysteriet ble oppklart ganske fort da en strandvakt passerte og sa "You don't wanna step on them blue things, m'am - they're gonna sting ya!" Så fikk vi vite at de blå plastboblene heter Portugeese Man'O War, på Norsk Portugisiske Krigsskip. De har jeg hørt om. De er ikke spesielt hyggelige. De er faktisk dødelige ... Men det er kun når de er store. Småtassene på stranden dør man ikke av. Likevel anbefales det å holde seg unna hvis man kan fordi det gjør jævlig vondt. Litt senere på dagen var vi vitne til en liten jente som forsøkte å plukke opp en sånn en med sin lille hånd og det glemmer hun nok ikke på noen år.

Utpå ettermiddagen stakk vi en tur innom Sports Authority for å kjøpe basketsko til Kari. De hadde ikke hennes størrelse men vi kom ut igjen med Miami Heat t-skjorter og en basketball istedet. Vel hjemme igjen tok vi på oss våre ny-ervervede Heat outfits, kastet litt ball på kjøkkenet, åpnet en flaske Cava og gjorde oss klare for en big-night-out på DeLano.

DeLano er balsam for sjelen. Vi spsiste sushi i sushi-baren og hang i bakgården, dvs. ved bassengene, palmene, ute-baren og chill-out madrassene til lyden av behagelig lounge-musikk og gresshopper. DeLano er et av de eldste og mest tradisjonsrike hotellene på South Beach og er utsmykket av Philip Stark. En must-see lokasjon hvis man tar turen til Miami.

Lørdag var vi littegranne tunge i hodet, men vi klarte å karre oss til Aventura Mall som er en innendørs by av butikker og et mekka for glade shoppere fra Skandinavia. Som Kari sa så er det nok lurt å vite hva man skal ha og navigere deretter, ellers kan man lett gå på en (økonomisk) smell ... Vi klarte oss ganske bra, fant veien hjem igjen og tilbrakte kvelden foran TV skjermen med hjemmelaget pizza og rødvin.

Søndag var dagen for å handle de siste tingene på lista og Kari fant tilslutt sine etterlengtede basketsko på Nike Outlet Store - et sted man ikke får noe som helst hjelp og trenger kart og kompass for å finne fram, men som har stort sett alt Nike noen gang har produsert. Litt senere deltok vi på USA's nasjonaldag nr 2, Superbowl, som da foregår på sportsbarer og på hjemme-fester foran digre TV skjermer som viser the American Football Game of The Year. ALLE amerikanere ser på superbowl. Og så er tradisjonen at man skal spise seg fordervet og drikke øl. Akkurat som på 17 Mai. Vi stakk bort på vår lokale sportsbar og fikk vite at alle bord og stoler, inkludert bar-stoler, var reservert, men vi kunne sette oss opp på venteliste ... Så det gjorde vi og fikk faktisk et bord tilslutt. Ute, vel og merke, men de hadde TV skjermer ute også så det var igrunnen helt kult. Jeg tror ingen av oss er i stand til å gi et referat av kampen men stemningen var på topp!

Mandagen pakket Kari kofferten som var adskillig vanskeligere å lukke enn da hun kom, og reiste hjemover igjen, brun, fin på håret og med lakkerte negler på tær og fingre. Litt vemodig å si hadet etter en herlig uke, men det har vært en god investering for oss alle, i gode minner - og billige klær. Velkommen igjen, Kari. Og velkommen til andre som planlegger turen over!

Akt tegning og andre studier

Studiehverdagen er igang, jeg er litt i sjokk over hvor mye jeg faktisk skal lese på et par måneder. Og dette har jeg valgt å gjøre på egenhånd ... Det kommer til å bli tøft. Foreløpig ligger jeg bak skjema. Det er veldig fint å ha noe annet å fokusere på innimellom. Akt tegning, for eksempel.

Når solen skinner tar jeg med meg bøkene ned til bassenget og legger meg på en solseng og leser. Problemet er bare at lyset blir litt i skarpeste laget, ellers er det en god ordning. Glemmer jeg f.eks. å ta med en penn, så er det litt pes, fordi jeg må opp i 25 etg å hente det. Og så er jeg litt redd for at jeg etterhvert kommer til å få dårlig samvittighet hver gang jeg legger meg ved bassenget hvis jeg ikke har med meg en psykologibok. Men jeg skal ikke klage, og ikke ta sorger på forskudd. Jeg har vært på dårligere lesesaler før.

Forrige onsdag kjørte jeg gladelig avgårde for å være med på første akt tegning i Miami. Skulle bare innom en sjappe og kjøpe noe papir og ekstra tegne utstyr på veien. Det var en dårlig idé - jeg kjørte meg bort, det ble mørkt, jeg ble frustrert og dunket litt for hardt i GPS'n og mistet lyden, så jeg endte opp med å kruse rundt gudene vet hvor i et par timer før jeg fant veien hjem igjen, en smule betuttet. Helge ble litt overrasket, han hadde planer om å bruke kvelden til å kværne litt på en presentasjon, hadde åpnet en flaske vin og satt og koste seg. Den måtte han dele med meg. Ingen tegning den dagen, altså.

En uke senere forsøkte jeg meg igjen, denne gangen med direkte destinasjon "Miami Beach Art Center". Jeg kom rett på, parkerte i et parkeringshus ved siden av og fulgte etter noen jenter med tegneblokk under armen som sikkert skulle samme sted. Bingo.

Jeg digger duften av ateliét - en svak eim av terpentin og maling, med hvite vegger tydelig preget av kunstaktivitet og kreativ utfoldelse. Sånn var det å komme inn på Art Center. Det minnet om å komme inn på en kunst skole. På sett og vis er det nettop det - lokalene har en administrasjon og mange forskjellige rom - tydelig ikke et galleri eller en butikk men et sted for produksjon. Jeg fant et lite klasserom med en plakat utenfor som sa "Open Drawing Class" og skjønte det var her det foregikk. Innenfor satt en dame som skulle være modell, og en liten, veldig mild og hyggelig mann med caps og briller. Det var Gustavo Roman, som organiserer tegnetimene.

Rommet var overraskende lite, så jeg spurte hvor mange som pleide å komme. Sånn mellom 5 - 7 personer vanligvis, fikk jeg vite. I Oslo på Arkitektforeningen er det gjerne 50 - 70 stk ... Det kom 12. Tetteste det hadde vært på lenge. Men for min del var det befriende få.

Amerikanere prater mer enn oss nordmenn. Man sier hei til den man sitter ved siden av her. Og har man først sagt hei så krever det noen oppfølgingspørsmål. I Oslo kommer folk stille inn i rommet, henter seg en stol, finner seg en plass, tar opp tegnesakene og sitter stille til modellen er klar, uten engang å se på sidemann. "Hi, I'm Chiara, you're new here, what's your name?" sa jenta som satte seg ved siden av meg. Hun var sikkert ca 20 år og studerte fashion design i Miami, samme som vennene som satt ved siden av. Litt etter kom en stor, eldre kar på andre siden av meg og spurte om det samme. Han introduserte seg selv, Richard heter han, og fortale at han tegner og skriver som terapi. Hva sier man til det egentlig? "Ok, good for you" ? Eller "How nice" ... ? Blir feil uansett hva man svarer. Men jeg tror egentlig ikke han trengte noe svar, det var bare hans måte å introdusere seg selv på. "Nice to meet you" pleier å funke greit i de fleste tilfeller.

Richard fulgte med på tegningene mine og utbrøt at de lignet akkurat på tegningene til Impresjonistene på MoMa. Etterpå korrigerte han det til "Renessanse stil." Komlimentene satt løst, det var jo hyggelig det, en smule pinlig for en reservert Skandinav, han er en av de mange amerikanere som sikkert aldri har lært innestemme. Jeg dro opp en flaske vann og han dro opp en boks med øl og det var neppe den første han hadde hatt den dagen. Tegningen gikk jo lett som bare det, komplimenter fra en beruset pensjonist i tegneterapi kommer godt med i oppstarten etter et års tegnestans.

Vi tegnet i tre timer. Første runde var endel 2 minutters tegninger for å varme opp, så fikk vi to 5 minutters, så to 20 minutters og tilslutt en på ca 50 minutter. Modellen var imponerende stille. Jeg har forsøkt å sitte stille uten å røre en finger i 30 sekunder for å kjenne etter hva disse modellene gjør, og det er rett og slett vondt. Heldigvis finnes det mennesker som synes det er ok å stille opp slik for de tegneglade. De burde blitt premiert for deres uunværlige bidrag til kunst rekrutteringen.

Akt tegning er terapi - så jeg skjønner hva Richard gjør. Man forsvinner inn i en slags transe av konsentrasjon, en slags meditasjon. Etterpå er hodet litt friskere.

Impresjonisme og renessanse får høre historien til, jeg drister meg til å legge ut et lite knippe av kveldens innsats:



Det blir flere runder med akt tegning framover, kjøpte like gjerne et klippekort. I kveld skal vi på kino, må sjekke ut noen av Oscar nominasjonene før det sirkuset er igang ... God helg!