School Weigh-Ins

People in Norway seem pretty fit compared to those in Ireland. At least they don’t let a bit of rain – or even a deluge – put them off going outdoors. We’d be housebound these days if that was the case. In Norway, chucking kids outside in all weathers, seems to lead to adulthoods filled with cycling, roller-skiing and hiking all over the place; still in ridiculous clothing. And then the snow comes of course... Well, they were born with skis on – ouch! – weren’t they, these Norwegians?

Well despite this high level of activity, obesity is a growing problem here just as it is in the rest of the western world. According to Aftenposten, the authorities are so worried about the increasing numbers of overweight children in schools, that they are re-introducing a school weighing programme, which was abolished in 1997. The reason they stopped weighing kids ten years ago was because it was deemed too traumatic for the children. I can imagine. This time they’re going to be more discreet about it so children don’t have to see how much they weigh. The idea is to monitor kids – weighing them during first, third, seventh and tenth class (ages 6,8, 12 & 15) so that if a weight problem occurs, the school nurse can try steer a child towards a healthier fat-reducing lifestyle. Presumably though it will work the other way too – if a child is underweight, then that can be tackled too.

I can imagine what will happen though. All this data will be very useful in publishing surveys on which is the fattest kommune in Norway, which is the lightest town, what’s the fattest school in Norway, etc. Mmm. I’m not sure about this. Weighing kids seems quite an old-fashioned measurement of good/bad health and I certainly don’t weigh my children for fear it becomes a habit they can’t break as they grow into teenage girls.

My gut (!) instinct is that weighing kids in a school programme isn't going to do what it is intended to do; lead to a reduction in obesity. It'll just provide concrete data on the problem. Prevention is better than cure so perhaps it might be more efficacious to implement healthier eating habits and send these kids out onto the football pitch more frequently. Weighing them once they are already overweight, and then expecting them to lose it, seems a bit like putting the cart after the horse. But what do I know?

First snow on Tanum

The Tax List

For the past month or so the tax details of every Norwegian resident have been available for all to see online in the form of Skattelisten (the tax list). It happens every year in October. Anyone with internet access can search anyone by name. Not only do you get to see how much someone declared in earnings, how much tax they paid, and how much they are worth in assets, but also the year they were born, and how their earnings rank in their post code/ local authority/ age group. Yes, it could be a real comparison-fest.

The first time I discovered this, I had a great ole time searching everyone I knew. I discovered that in some cases, despite the old car they were driving, people I knew well were earning multi-millions, whilst others with brand new cars were not – far from it. Not that cars are an indicator of anything - clearly they are not - but you get what I mean: conspicuous consumption. Of course after five years the novelty has worn off this caper, and I’ve decided that I’m no longer interested in delving into people’s financial details. In fact it feels kind of yeuchy, like financial porn. I use the changing room analogy.

Just because Norwegians walk around the dressing room at the gym buck naked doesn’t mean I stare at their bits and pieces, does it? No, of course not. Nobody seems to talk about the skattelist, no more than they talk about each other physical traits. I can hardly go up to a friend and say: 'gosh that’s a really ugly scar you have on your butt', no more than I'm going to say, ' gosh you don’t earn half as much as I thought you did'. So just because Norwegian society actively encourages that we all compare and contrast our fiscal values/cellulite, doesn’t mean we should. Right?

There is one thing though. Just as the body can be a give-away on the old age question, so is the Skattelist. This year, I allowed myself one sneaky peak to see how old one of my gym instructors is. I mean, how could I resist. Anyway, it turns out that she's 50! Much older than I thought. Bet she looks great naked too, but I ain’t lookin'. Honest!

When Telephones were New technology

Last night at book group there was some discussion about Facebook. Some love it, some don’t get why anyone is on it, some are addicted to Farmville. Driving home I was thinking how this conversation was very representative of my generation, ‘girls’ in our mid-thirties to mid - forties. I can’t imagine young people discussing Facebook; they just use it; What’s there to discuss?

Then I got thinking about how it might have been for my grandparent’s generation in the sixties, when they got telephones for the first-time. Landlines that is, the kind of phones my children will look back on and say: ‘Did we really have a telephone attached to our house with a wire?’

I imagine dinner parties in the sixties - this is a stretch of imagination as I don't think dinner parties arrived in Kilkenny until the mid-seventies, earliest - where conversations might have been like this:

Oh I can’t stand those new telephones. They’re so noisy when the ring.

Oh but it’s wonderful, I can talk to my mother-in-law, when she’s not even in the same room!

Yes, but don’t you hate when people disturb you when they call during dinner?

Oh, I only let my husband answer it, as you never know who is on the other end of the line!

I think the operator sounds so helpful and polite, but I wonder does she eavesdrop?

I always recite my number when I answer; it’s good manners in my view.

Don’t you hate when you get the last digit wrong, and you have to start dialling the number all over again?

They say, everyone will have a phone in their home some day and you’ll be able to dial Australia without going through an operator! Can you imagine?! No, I can't! That's impossible.

Yes, we’ve come a long way. I really don’t now how I’d explain Facebook, Twitter and blogging to my grandparent’s were they still around. (Then that applies to most aspects of my life. You married a foreigner, who’s not a Catholic and you live where?) Makes me wonder what kind of technology my children’s children will have, that I won’t be able to get my head around.

I feel like an ole fogey already!

Hallowe'en Junk in My Trunk

Another fine bounty of candy was distributed by me and then re-collected in other forms by my children during the trunk or treating event hosted at the international school last night. Eight dark, cold weeks to Christmas. Oh dear, I think I might be getting the winter blues. At least we have tonnes of candy here to cheer me up.