A Crapload of Crap.

I came back to Bergen a week ago after a nice Christmas break. I unpacked my bags and went downstairs to our storage area to put my suitcases into my little room. In theory this is easy enough and I have never found it diffucult at all. This time was different.

My 'room' is in the corner at the end of the row of other rooms. It's at the end and backs up against the wall. A few months ago an old printer had been left in the corner outside my space down there. That's fine, not really a problem, I can still open the door.

A couple months later there's another printer. They're big and I have to move them to open the door properly. That's alright, I only go down there every two months anyway.

Then I come back from Christmas. Now, in addition to two printers, there's a plastic bag of paper of some kind, two huge black garbage bags of rubbish, some more clothes and another bag with wood sticking out of it. Yesterday I talked to the girl who lives here and works with the SiB (the student organization who owns the building) and she didn't know about it. She recommended I called the janitor, which I did this morning.

The janitor said they'd look at it next time they came round, but it is our responsibility to get rid of our junk. I know, I said, it's just so strange someone could leave things like that, we don't know who it belongs to, and it's blocking not just my space but also the two next to it. There's just more and more. He said maybe there's something that says who it belongs to.

I met the girl working for the SiB again, she said she'd talked to someone but waiting to hear back. I went downstairs to see what is there and try and find out who it belongs to. Now there's also a TV in the middle of the floor and a computer hard drive outside the door of my space. This is getting ridiculous.

But I'd decided to figure out who's doing this. The printers and computer and clothes... maybe people just don't know where to hand in this stuff, where to have it recycled or whatever they do to it. One of the printers looked pretty new too. But that doesn't help me out, I need a name, an address, a number - anything.

One of the bags contained cleaning stuff. Things to wash the floor with, windows, sponges. Another one (there are three now) has nothing but a bottle in it. In another corner of the room there's a carpet. In another there's another carpet, a lamp and a bucket with a broken beer bottle and a small bottle of vodka, empty. I get back to the bag outside my door.

I find a carton of milk. Empty. A carton of juice. Half full. A bag of stu. Dinner. Cheese. Not opened. Hair gel. Smells nice. The big black bag itself smells pretty bad. It seems like whoever it belongs to left in a hurry - who would throw out cheese he just bought and half-full boxes of hair gel? But then I hit gold. Papers. Lots of it.

It's probably a guy, judging by the handwriting. He attends the Høgskolen i Bergen, some kind of computer/marketing class. There are also a few print outs of rulings from the Norwegian Supreme Court. I find exercise papers, exam papers. Then an email address. It's too good to be true, it's his school address, which would allow me to find his name. I keep digging. It stinks.

Coffee stains. Yuck. Then what do you know... a letter from his bank. With his name. Christian A. R. Jørgensen from Ålesund. What else can I find? An envelope from a company that produces milk. Two confirmations of orders placed on the net - he's ordered DVDs, a CD. Papers here dating back to 2003, the latest I can find is October 2005. He lives, or lived, in appartment 423.

I look at the space marked 423, why is all this stuff outside mine and not inside his? All that's in there is a chair. And it's open. All the spaces have a big locks on them, but this one doesn't. It's not there. The garbage itself isn't strange, it's disgusting and more than little bit odd but it's not strange... The disappearance of the lock is strange.


Christian Jørgensen, 423... I don't know how much of this is yours but I know much of it is. I don't know if you put it there but I know you didn't throw it out when you left. Why didn't you? Where did you go?

Who is this guy?


(to be continued...)