Lost in Translation

We are on the train to Bergen this morning as the rest of our family and friends sleep peacefully in the States. I’m trying to write my article on a band that I interviewed yesterday, one that I believe could be popular back home. The band is called Hayde and is worth looking up on YouTube. Please note that my musical tastes are superb, probably better than yours, and I never lie.

Musikkfest was an inspiring day full of local artists and fans enjoying the sunshine and music all around the city. It was also the first day I didn’t sweat more than Andre the Giant in the Sahara. Alright I lied just that once, but it was considerably less than normal. My partner, Rebecca, and I were unsure how to approach the day at first. But luckily Captain Steve came to our rescue when he met us at our first venue and gave us great tips to get started. There was no shortage of material and we ended up trekking around the city for more than eight hours collecting data.

Most of this job is confidence. I have to sound like I know what I’m talking about when I interview bands. I have to believe that my press badge has the power to get me into the exclusive areas. I have to collect data, form a string of thoughts that blend into a story, and relay a message to the readers. With so much of the Norwegian culture depending on humility, I am still struggling to find the right way to channel my sarcasm and ego into a nice little package that people can relate to.

Now I really have to get back to writing my article. Which shouldn’t be hard. I see some people are really distracted by the scenery, but to me it just looks like Montana, so it’s nothing new. Wish me luck on using the train bathrooms today, though. I fear a train tip and sloshing situation will ultimately be my fate, but I will go forth bravely.