Peter Gabriel

What to say. He is a genious in my mind. Poetic, strong and a fantastic, mesmerizing voice. Increadible in so many ways, but also difficult and a bit strange. You must listen many many times to appreicate the music to the max. It is not for everyone, I think, and not for the radio.

My Peter Gabriel facination started in 86 when I was in Hastings on Language Summer School learning English (and learning to party, I might add) when Sledghammer and Don't give up raged on the hitlists. Perhaps this is the only album that was really a big commercial and streamline hit for Peter Gabriel, but my appreciation grew after I learned more.

When I came back from England that summer and talked to my brother about my new facination, he showed me the four other albums that Peter Gabriel had given out solo at that time. No names, they are popularly called 1,2,3 and 4. 3 is the best, in my mind. "Biko" came out on this I think. I'm just pulling this out of my head, so I might be wrong.

After that I learned that Peter Gabriel was the original singer in Genesis, and that opened a new path in my "musical education". My top grade in Music in "senior high" was due to this interest, and with a big help from my brother's vast music collection which had all Genesis and Gabriel records given out to that date.

I've been to two concerts with Gabriel, both in Oslo. The first was in 87 on the "So"-tour, the second a few years later - I'd say around 1995.

Now he is out with Scratch my back. An album only with cover songs, it is entirely in Gabriels spirit. I have a job to listen to it some times to really apprecate it. It is difficult as the voice and tone of the music is so closely linked to my brother.

Søndag

Ute er det vinter. Det er grå skyer, ganske mildt. Jeg burde vært ute på ski. Jeg burde i det minste gå meg en tur. Jeg burde i hvertfall satt på en maskin eller tre med klær, jeg burde ryddet litt og kanskje strøket litt tøy. Jeg burde ha forberedt middag, jeg burde har jobbet litt slik at jeg er i forkant av stresset i morgen tidlig.

Burde, burde, burde. Er det ikke det denne VG-reklamen handler om? Jeg leser bare VG på nett, men helg for meg har blitt en totalutladning der jeg ikke orker tanken på alt jeg "burde" gjøre.

Nå er ikke dette helt uvanlig i februar, det skal sies. I april er det bedre og i mai strutter jeg av energi. Nå bare gleder jeg meg over at det drypper fra taket og at sola varmer i solveggen. Det går mot vår og jeg gleder meg til åpne verandadører og soltørket tøy som vaier i vinden.

Og om 5 dager kan vi sette på varmen i gulvet på badet.

Sliten

Tror dette må være et av de mest brukte ordene mine for tiden. Er det ikke rart hvor lett det er å slenge ut av seg "huff, så sliten jeg er", "nei, mamma orker ikke spille Monopol, Uno, Kort, lese, jeg er så sliten", "vettu, det skjer så mye for tiden og jeg er så sliten så jeg orker ikke besøk fra halve slekta akkurat nå".

Sliten sliten sliten sliten. Lite søvn, mye jobb, lite trening, mye TV, feil mat, store skittentøysmengder, fulle oppvaskmaskiner, tunge handleposer og fly i morgen kl 8.

Er det bare meg, eller er alle slitne for tiden?

The river

I laid out the big map of the rainforest east of Sandakan, Borneo on the table and all three of us bent over it to look. I pointed to the Kinabatangan River’s mouth and used my finger to follow it carefully through many bends towards the River Lodge Town of Sukau. It was shorter than anticipated. “How can such a short distance take 5 hours?” my brother said disbelievingly. We would soon find out.

We all settled in the boat. It had wooden benches along the side, two powerful engines in the back, a small cabin and a top made of tarpaulin to shade from the scorching sun and pouring rain. The pilot gave us all life jackets and rooted around to find a small one for our son. Then he took off in high speed towards the river estuary. Well past the Estuary Police check point, we started a slow and careful voyage up-river. The river erodes the jungle and driftwood of all shapes and sizes were floating towards us. We went zigzagging through it all.

Benny, our guide was standing up front and watching for wildlife. She shouted out – “look over there!” The pilot stopped the boat. Far away, high up in a tree, we could all see an orange mass. It was a huge male orang-utan! He was sitting still, without moving for a long time. We all zoomed in with our cameras and binoculars to get a better view of this magnificent animal that is so rare to see in the wild.

Further up the river we stopped at a local restaurant. Along the sides of the house and towards the river there was some curious fence made of short logs of timber sticking up about 20 in. and perhaps 1 in. apart. From the dock to the house there was a wide hanging bridge with ropes to hold on to. I asked our guide about the fence. “It is to stop the crocodiles”, she said. I gripped the hand of the 3-year-old harder and swore a silent oath not to let go of him until we arrived safely back at the hotel in Kota Kinabalu.

After five long hours on hard wooden benches, zigzagging through driftwood, looking out for monkeys, elephants and crocodiles, we finally arrived at the River Lodge. At dusk we went up to a side arm of the river to see and hear the abounding proboscis monkeys. The next morning we had the same painstaking voyage back down to Sandakan, ending the adventure of a lifetime in Agnes Keith’s “land below the wind”.