Breaking news

"A mad man who had been healed by a pastor at Madina 3 weeks ago, is still wandering around being mad, and surely isnt healed", reports NET2 TV 29th July.

Salvador - the whole story

One of the first days after i came, i was in my in-laws house and listened to a heated debate between bf, his sisters and his mother. The topic was the newest hot tele-novela shown on NET2, Second Chance. Or its original name: El cuerpo del deseo – Body of Desire. Not sure of its exact origin though its Latin American in all its characteristics. I realized people were really passionate about it, and thought: “hey, this is my way in”. So I watched an episode and got most details about who is who from bf.

Don Pedro was a rich, piano virtuoso who lived in a nice house with his wonderful daughter, Angela, and his loyal servants. He marries opportunist Isabelle, who together with her…lover? Andre, plans to kill Don Pedro and inherit all his riches. Isabelle poisons Don Pedro and he dies. End of story you might think.
But here comes the twist, and some twist it is: Don Pedro’s body dies, but his soul jumps into the body of a hunk-a-chunk of burning love-villager named Salvador, who dies at the same moment! And the story is now getting interesting. Don Pedro is inside the body of this Greek god look-a-like, stuck in a village with a illiterate wife and son. He runs away from the village and seeks work as a driver in his own house and intrigues can begin. So Salvador/Don Pedro is in the house, Knowing Isabelle killed him, knowing Andre is her accomplice, Isabelle’s opportunistic aunt, Rebecca, moves in, (or did she already live there? Gotta get the details from bf), the butler Walter is suspicious of him and Rebecca is on his side, Salvador is mysteriously shot but recovers, all the women in the house are deeply infatuated by Salvador, including Isabelle, Rebecca and Isabelle’s niece, Valeria (the only pure soul in Isabelle’s family), Isabelle starts an affair with Salvador, not knowing its her late husband playing her, while Don Pedro is mostly interested in Valeria, who plays the piano and shares his passions of music.

Salvador plays games on the people in the house by sneaking around and playing the piano just the way Don Pedro used to do, and scares the hell out of the evil doers. Don Pedros dog knows Salvador is Don Pedro and also acts strange. Antonio, son of servant Abigail, brother of Simon and “boyfriend” of Angela, is almost losing his mind over this, until he realized Salvador is Don Pedro and is happy with that, but doesn’t tell anyone.

Meanwhile, the original Salvador’s wife from the village, Cantelisia (?) has come to the city with their son to look for Salvador, who they think has gone crazy. She is as previously mentioned, an illiterate and obviously from the 12th century considering how helpless and stupid they portray people from villages, she stays with the uncle of the village priest, who funnily enough, is an artist painting nude women… She finally finds Salvador and complicates the story, refusing to accept that Salvador does not want anything to do with them anymore, considering he is in fact Don Pedro and she stays in town being an annoying crying moron who thinks Salvador has lost his mind and waiting for him to recover so they can go home.

OK. I know this is pointless to use a whole blog entry for. But its funny. And it has become somewhat of a tradition at 9 o’clock in our house, after all the people who has come by cos they need something from bf or from my computer or his printer has gone home, we half watch Second Chance. Sometimes my eyes close during it, but that’s one of the good things about this series. You can skip 20 episodes and still get whats going on, OR only listen to the dialogue. I’ve heard its better anyway, this way you use your imagination to create the characters. Ehm.

Yes im full of bullshit, but I had to write something not negative cos I made that rule the last time.

Intro

I was just thrown out of the taxi I was in cos we passed a girl who wanted "dropping" and I was in an empty, but shared taxi (cheaper than dropping, takes 4 passengers). The driver stopped another taxi, said "hey you, take my passenger with you, eh?" and gently kicked me out. Hmpf. Anyway, no harm, no foul.

Considering this is my second post on this blog, and everyone who dont read Norwegian have no idea what I have been writing before, I dont really know how to start. So I'll just go. I have been living as a (desperate) housewife this week to, only interrupted by a trip to Accra to accompany bf.

Thursday evening I went out on adventure to Accra to meet bloggers in Ghana who Kajsa has gathered. We were 6 people there, from Sweden, Ghana, Nigeria, Jamaica and Norway. Quite interesting to meet people that way, while initially we only have in common that we blog. And iI was the only nationalist who worte in Norwegian. Hence, this blog.

Our porch still works as the public Speaker's Corner/gossip place/konkonsa venue in the neighborhood. The man in the house is working on a ship so now the wife is alone entertaining all her friends outside our window. While it used to be the man and his buddy and his radio who used to make the most noise in the mornings, and of course his crying/screaming children, its now his wife's friends and their crying/screaming children. They sit right outside our window out to the porch and talk and talk and they have so much to talk about. Sometimes I think they are about to come through the walls. Its not that they are really that much of a nuisance as I make it sound, maybe more the feeling of never being alone in your "own" house. Fine, we rent, and SHARE with a family of 4, but thats not all. We share with the whole neighborhood, and sometimes it gives you the feeling of being the guest rather than the "host", since you dont know anyone you meet on the way to the toilet in your "own" house.

Lately a woman has been sleeping on the porch. We dont know where she came from, and she is not a guest of the woman (from now on referred to as Assembly Woman), cause she sleeps outside. She was visiting another woman in the neighborhood, but no room for her to sleep there, so Assembly Woman let her sleep on our porch. We werent informed of this decision of course, and one night she surprised me when I was on the way to the toilet in the dark and almost tripped over her sleeping form. She doesnt cause any trouble mind you, she is just around, she isnt shy of walking around bare-chested, and stealing my bathroom slippers right in front of my nose. Norwegian and Ghanaian hospitality rules are different, and Im not new to Ghana so I dont take offence when people take my things without asking, just feel amusement. At least it gives us something to talk about. And we get all the latest gossip of the area through our window to the porch.

I would write more, but Im hungry, my toes are about to fall of cos of the aircon, and I have to get a ticket from Frankfurt to Trondheim in November, and I cant concentrate on several things at one time it seems, though I thought that was a quality my sex was supposed to master better than the other sex... How many hours does one want to spend at Frankfurt Airport when one arrives after an overnight flight? 0. but I'm looking at 6.

I fell

I fell to the pressure of writing my blog in English. Though I didnt fall that hard. Responses to my ponderings on whether I should start writing in English, were both positive and negative. So I have decided (again) to start the (impossible?) task of keeping two blogs, one in Norwegian (and dialects) for my old aunties and for Guro who prefers the dialect one, and one in English, to be part of globalism.

I am excited and scared. Excited cos I have a brand new shiny blog with endless possibilities, and scared cos I have to write in English and I will make errors... :)

Anyway, I hope I will be able to keep it up - translating is boring but it sure will exercise my English, and living in Ghana and slowly but seriously changing my Norwegian High School English into Community 2, Tema English, this will probably be a good thing.