De temps en temps, Life likes to kick you in the ass hard. Yesterday was a—how to say it nicely—en helt jævla dag: a hellish blend of bad rapport, lack of sleep, and hjemlengsel. And as much as I try to make the best of everything, there are just those days where nothing goes. Men derfra finnes det ingen annen vei enn oppover, og idag gikk det bedre.

So I should probably share a bit about our current situation. The twenty of us Region 2 AFSers are currently at Holtenkilen Folkehøgskole for our avskjedsleir, a short gathering before we disband and fly back to our respective countries.

There is a dock that is a couple of minutes’ walking distance from the school. Balázs—who I was fortunate enough to room with—and I have been swimming there every day. It’s a very special thing to be out there, your head rested on the water, looking upside-down at the blue and peach horizon and the boats sprinkled along the shore. It makes me wish I had an underwater housing for my camera…or a Ziploc bag.
We went swimming today together with Doug, Phil, Anıl, and Kevin during the onset of a coming thunderstorm. Have you ever seen lightning while swimming in the ocean? Thrilling, awe-inspiring, and probably not the smartest thing to do. And when we got out we were treated to a scene reminiscent of Laura Pausini’s “Primavera Anticipada”: a display of yellowed leaves drifting off with the wind.

These precious final moments tick by:

All of Balázs’ silly shenanigans. I will come to miss him dearly. This guy is one in a million. It doesn’t matter how I’m feeling, he always manages to cheer me up. And I can tell him anything and everything with no drama or hang-ups.

Attempting an amateur photo shoot with Yanzi: jumping off the bench, somersaults across the meadow, swinging by the seaside. We laughed until our sides hurt and it was wonderful.

An ephemeral moment with Diego, enjoying “Is It True?” in silence.

Comforting Elaine, mind reeling back to all our shared moments in Horten: days together with Gayoung of Korean movies and beaches and homemade cakes.

Singing to the passing cars on E-18 and sleeping outside on a bench with a pillow and blanket, an empty vast sky above decorated with one lonely star.

Pappa saying “Gutten min.”

And looking at that, I can see that things change, and things also change back—for good or for worse. Nothing is stagnant—relationships and alliances the least of all, as I have learned. And the repercussions don’t slip by unnoticed.

The storm has not yet gone over the horizon.