60,000

me: ålesund is such a small town. i mean, there aren’t even that many people working at my workplace and yet today, on the papers, i read a column written by an ex work-mate and saw a picture of a work-mate.

MOH: it’s not that small. we’re almost up to 60,000 (in population) now.

i don’t know how accurate is the 60,000, i reckon it’s closer to 50,000 but yeah… it’s not just a small town, it’s a bloody remote village. or a suburb in jakarta. and he thinks it’s not that small. ha! sad, really

looks like…

MOH had spaghetti carbonara for dinner today. in all its eggy, creamy, hammy (hammy? lots of ham, i mean) glory.

i had kidney beans soup. yummy, healthy, and tastes like home.

me: look what i have for dinner.

MOH: eeehhhh.

me: what? it’s good for you.

MOH: what is that?

me: beans! lots of vitamins, fiber and iron. very low in fat. and soooo good.

MOH: it looks like something that comes out of me when i have a bad stomach.

as always, classy. we are very mature adults in this house.

ninja turtles

me (with a guide book in hand): so… where should we go tomorrow?

MOH: where do you want to go?

me: i want to go to the fountain and the spanish steps. you want to go to hard rock.

MOH: st peter’s.

me: ok. let’s see. i reckon we’ll manage to visit all these places tomorrow no problem. we’ll probably walk about 2-3 hours altogether. maybe we can go back to that square we went to at the first day. where else?

MOH: where else is there to go? what does the book say?

me: umm… how about the pantheon.

MOH: what’s there?

me: according to this book, raphael was buried there.

MOH: yeah, sounds good. raphael is there after all.

me: who is raphael?

MOH: wha..? you don’t know who raphael is?

me: no. you do?

MOH: the painter.

me: what painter? the only raphael i know is that ninja turtle. hey! ninja turtles, are they italians?

MOH: what? (had a my-woman-is-mental look on his face)

me: ninja turtles. raphael, leonardo, michelangelo, and the other. they have italian names, are they italians, then?

MOH: …

me: but no. there’s this girl called april in the series. must be american. wonder why they have italian names.

MOH: (looked out of the window and sucked on his cigaretttes)

taking stingy to the next level

i have being called stingy my whole life. i always say thrifty but the general consensus by people who know me is that i’m so careful with money, i’m borderline stingy. i don’t have problem using money for presents, for example, but when it comes to myself, i hardly ever buy things that i want; i usually just buy things i need.

MOH: are you going to get the vaccination for h1n1?

me: maybe.

MOH: norway has got their vaccine. lots of them.

me: i know you don’t want to get it.

MOH: no.

me: well, then we’ll see if it works or not. you’re not protected, i will be.

MOH: so you’ll have it?

me: i don’t know. probably. i’ll ask my mummy. but you know, since they bought it with our tax money, we’ve paid for it already. might as well get it.

MOH: you know you have to pay for it?

me: what?

MOH: you have to pay to get it.

me: what a rip off. didn’t they use our tax money to buy them? then they want us to pay to get it? huh! forget it. i don’t want it anymore.

MOH: my god, you’re stingy.

think about it. do i really need the vaccine? the way it is now, they don’t know, do they. what with the virus mutating itself or whatever other funny medical business.

and really, this is not about being stingy. in a way, it’s a principal thing. i mean, they did use my tax money to buy the vaccine, why the bloody hell do i have to pay for it again? and if it’s absolutely necessary for us to have them, i’m sure we’ll get them for free. eventually.

come to think of it, norway is the one who’s stingy.

norwegian vs. indonesian education system

MOH: what did you learn about other countries in indonesia?  have you heard about norway before you came here?

me: yes.

MOH: what, from some norwegians pop groups?

me: which one?

MOH: how about sweden? denmark? finland?

me: yes. and i also knew there was a country called oman. bet you’ve never heard of it.

MOH: belgium? luxembourg?

me: yes.

MOH: new zealand?

me: oh, ha ha ha.

MOH: congo?

me: yes. have you heard about a country called brunai?

MOH: yes. it’s somewhere in the middle east.

me: ha! HA! haha! it’s not in the middle east!

MOH: where is it then?

me: you know it’s this small country, right? filthy rich?

MOH: yes. there’s an airport there where planes land to refuel.

me: it’s not in the middle east!

MOH: where is it then?

me: (drew a picture of indonesia and pointed where brunai was)

he went and googled it then came back and said, ‘i hate it when you’re right.’ then he said i wasn’t allowed to blog about it.

indonesia 1, norway 0. tee hee!!!

drive-in

today, burger king  opens its door in the sleepy old town i currently live in. just so you know why this is a big deal, prior to today, we only have one junk food chain in ålesund, namely maccas. i know, such a party town, right (i’m dripping with sarcasm today).

conversation between some norwegians.

norwegian #1: so burger king is open today.

norwegian #2 (and 3, and 4, and 5 and a few more): that’s exciting.

n #1: they have drive-in.

n #2 (and 3 and 4 and 5 and a few more): what’s that?

n#1: it’s when you can just sit in your car and order.

n#2: wooow…

n#3: like in the moview!

me: … holy guacamole! where am I??? take me out of this hellhole! somebody! anybody??? (in my head, obviously).

also, is it not called drive-thru/through? drive-in is used for cinemas, no? or is it drive-through i’ve experienced but everywhere else they’re known as drive-in?

hospital visit

i hate hospitals.

hospitals are creepy. they are also depressing. and sad. and gloomy. and scary. i hate them.

and i’m a chinese indonesian who grew up in indonesia listening to tales of ghosts and spirits wandering around doing bad things to people. i even convinced myself at one point that i could feel their presence.

we went to the hospital on the weekend.

as it turns out, norwegian hospitals aren’t as bad as the ones in indo. or the ones in my hometown anyway. the last time i went to a hospital in indo, it was to visit my grandma. it was the same hospital i was born in. veeeery old. veeeery dark. veeeery creepy.

the hospital we went to on the weekend was kinda new. looks more like a hotel than a hospital. but still a hospital. so before we went there, i had a conversation with MOH that went a bit like this.

me: i hate hospitals.

MOH: i know. but we still have to go.

me: we have to walk close to the side, ok.

MOH: you’ve been watching too many ‘ghost whisperer’.

me: it’s not ‘ghost whisperer’. but in hospitals, you have to walk close to the side and not in the middle. in case there are spirits walking. you don’t want to bump into them.

MOH: you’re crazy.

me: no, i’m not. i’m just chinese. promise you’ll walk close to the side.

we did so when we were there. i was practially rubbing shoulders with the bloody walls.

gaaaaaah!!! i hate hospitals.

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