I now know the contact high Olympian athletes experience after donning their shiny patria-gear and rubbing shoulders with their compatriots ’round the globe in the ceremonial opening parade. I’ve seen a practical pou-pou’s platter full of health ministry folks here on my Tromso sojourn, which includes not only members of the G-20 but representatives of most former Eastern Bloc fiefdoms that once possessed such gold-winning, young gymnasts. It is tres encouraging to know that democracy and innovation are flourishing in these countries once relegated to the communist dustbin, like Poland and Hungary. Maybe it’s true what Travel and Leisure says about Krakow: that it’s the new Prague and one of the hippest stop-offs on the planet. Who ever thought we’d see a Czech Minister of Information that had no secret police connections, in our lifetime? Instead of being an old and jowly shadowpuppet senior with a wide-brimmed hat, she was instead young, bon vivant and remarkably well-coiffed from head to toe.

My most profound takeaway from the Trans-Euro e-Health Summit is that “global community” is not just hip jargon used to sell Coca Cola Light to our neighbors in Kuala Lumpur. The concept of a borderless world, knitted together tighter than a Norwegian ski cap is real and it’s now. This is evidenced by the fact that I was phalanxed by no less than four countries at all times during my many meeting sessions. HIT peeps from Sweden, Bulgaria, Belgium, Switzerland, Scotland and Greece were my most frequent seatmates. They taught me quite a bit and I’m not talking about eHR installation and the promise of patient data mobility. I got the opportunity most Americans do not: to leave our mirror, mirror on the wall, we’re the greatest of them all culture and journey to a universe where being from the Land of Uncle Sam causes no great excitement and in fact, can even be a liability. Talk about working a tough room!

Warning: These colors don’t bleed but they just may scrape on contact. A number of people grabbed a peek at my nametag and wondered aloud with great perplexity why someone from the US was even at the event. At least I had a cohort in conference ribbing seeing as the event host (one Norway) is not as of yet an EU member, having given a thumbs-down in both the 70’s and 90’s. Ahem. All of this grushting is not to say I wasn’t greeted warmly by many delegates after turning on my 400-watt charm (uber props to my new Swede St. Olav friends in the rural North and the fantastic Karl Jurgen Schmidt from Deutcheland! Wouldn’t dream of walking the Artic Cathedral towbridge path and discussing cross-border telemedicine with anyone else. For him, I will be sure to learn how to say You Rock! in German:redhead:)

Despite a few bumps for me on the formerly unchartered road of global diplomacy, this conference was a valuable indoctrination into a new work and personal climate. I learned that there is a whole world outside my Beltway window and that the Financial Times, not just the New York Times, should be read every day for proper world perspective, Bertoscolini-watch and the updated scorecard for ratification of the EU constitution . Drats! And here I thought the Economist and the Scotsman made me continental enough. Looks as if I’ll have to add a 596th newspaper to my morning must-review Internet feeds.:mrgreen:

Thanks to my new compatriots for enlightening my world view and for not discarding me straightaway because of my Made in the USA label. Should you ever find yourself in America, I’ll be sure to take you to Steak and Shake and out to our biggest stadium movieplex. Popcorn’s on me! Until then, I’ll see you next year in sunny, sandy Seville.

Humbly in Your Debt, (And ever grateful you introduced me to Italian frocks, Scandinavian cloudberries, Belgian chocolates and Artic moosefur)
TLRG

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Hey! Hey! And a Huda from the snow-capped mountain oasis of Tromso, Norde known affectionately to the locals as Polaria. When I perused the pages of my Lonely Planet Scandanavia and discovered I was traveling from politicoland to 300 km NORTH of the Arctic Circle, I prepared my distinguishing tastebuds for reindeer tartar and packed the best and bulkiest parka North Face had to offer. Both provisions put me in good Raouls Amudsen stead!

While filled with glee over the prospect of exploring this tundriatic, fiord-filled playground before me, I have to wonder why, in the name of Eric the Red, the European Union would pick one of the Northernmost habitats on earth for their annual e-Health junket. Tromso’s panoramic Alpine views and reputation as the Land of the Midnight Sun just might have cinched their bid over sandier, more continental locales. Given its unique geographic seat at the virtual top of the world, Tromso is blessed with nearly three months of pure, uninterrupted solar and UV rays every summer. All hail melanoma! And as the tourism website says, simply put Tromso parties; complete with a mayor who dons a shiny discoball of a necklace in ALL public addresses and yodelers who sing l’etrange electronica Euro hits like Big Butter Belly. Run don’t walk to download Bel Cantor’s CD! I guarantee you will find no another band like Bel Cantor and no other land like Tromso on this Earth. Where else are Kit-Kats called Kvikk Lunsj and is whale watching, fur slipper-making and singing the praises of Ibsen, Grieg and mid-20th century modernism a regional pass-time? How many adventure outposts, population 56,000, can play host to top health ministers and the world’s best marathoners one month and Nelson Mandela the next?

As the luggagecheckers at the airport warned me upon entry to Norway, Uh, Miss this is NOT Washington DC; which became hilariously clear as I traipsed through Tromdenhiem’s masterfully designed Museum of Polar Exploration seeing the likes of Svarlsbad’s little auks (penguins) and trained bearded seals barking for their dinner, as well as learning about the migratory mating patterns of Artic eels and the eco-consequences of being downwind from the Chernobyl disaster. Note to self: check that Rusky globe again. Exit information on the miraculous Coldwar Antartica Treaty cooperation and a giftshop brimming with funky Norse scarfwear and authentic fur polarbear masks topped off the museum’s icecold good time. I am sure I speak for many a TLRG reader when I say that seeing Mr. Q in his newly acquired bear hoodie and costume will be worth its weight in Kroners (6,000 to be exact)

Stay tuned for the Flickr photos:pigtails:

Signed,
LMSB (Lil Miss Sunburn)

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