Goodbye, Blighty.

After a wonderful visit to Winchester, Canterbury, Calais, and Oostende with dear friends, and a marvelous last day in Leatherhead with family, it is time for me to say goodbye to England, and to Norway, and to this whole European adventure... for now. Rest assured, I will be back. ;)

A summary update with plenty of photographs will follow once I'm back on American soil.

Goodbye. <3

A thousand apologies!

It's been forever since I even thought about updating this thing, and I guess that is due in part to the fact that I don't really feel like I'm "abroad" anymore. I guess you could say that England is in my blood; coming here feels a bit like coming home.

I do have photographs to post from my adventures mostly around Surrey, a trip into London, and a day return to Cambridge, but I'll have to pry them off my blackberry when it is feeling more cooperative; at the moment it has declared war on me and barely dials out on command, let alone gives up my photographs. It is a little surreal to me that this month has flown by as quickly as it has, but even more surreal that the past seven months have breezed past me at such speed. I still feel, in some ways, like I just left for Oslo yesterday--not as though I have spent the last half year there becoming an Akerhus kommune resident and local. And of course my time in England never seems to last as long as I want it to... something I will hopefully remedy here in the coming years with any luck. ;)

This is my last week of traveling abroad, at least for now. Tomorrow, I go to Winchester to visit my dear friend Von, and we'll take a daytrip down to Calais to bother the French and do a little bit of shopping for things I don't need. I'll probably write one more entry before going back to the US, but I think this blog is winding down at this point. Should I continue it when I get home? I might, if I do some traveling within the states.

Hadet bra. <3

Hello, 100th blog entry!

Now that that is over with, I'll quickly hit what I've been up to this week with bullet points:

• Aunt Jackie and I had a wander around Wisley, which is part of the National Trust here in England. Very beautiful gardens, and a lovely lunch on the patio; cool breeze, too.
• Drove down to Brighton with Uncle Pete on Wednesday, had a wander through the Lanes, enjoyed my first Cornish pasty since 2008 (!) and visited the same pub twice for comparatively cheap rosé and a pint.
• Went down to the stables to visit my cousin Tor's horse Tonto on two different occasions. The Surrey countryside is really something special, I've taken some photos on my blackberry and should upload them soon.
• Visited my cousin Gemma's new house, felt exceedingly domestic myself, should redecorate when I get home.
• Today I went with both Uncle Pete and Aunt Jackie up to Polesden Lacey, an estate that now belongs to the National Trust, but has a pretty fascinating history behind it. Mrs. Greville was the illegitimate daughter of a wealthy brewer who, when he passed away, had no other children to inherit his wealth. So he left her an absurd amount of money, and Polesden Lacey was the result of that money: gorgeous bit of property in the Surrey countryside, where she played hostess to royalty as well as foreign dignitaries including Woodrow Wilson. It's a bit sad, one of the curators was saying, that she didn't become a lady, and I'd like to look up more about her when I get the time.
• Took a drive through the countryside in my uncle's MG, blazing down the motorway with insufficient safety trappings. It was pretty exciting! (Please don't kill my uncle, Mum, Dad.)

Not sure what's on for tomorrow, but I'm sure we'll sort something out. I'm honestly enjoying just taking things as they come day by day; I'm enjoying the quality time with family.

Hei fra England.

It feels unreal, to me, that I'm not going back to my little corner of Oslo in Kringsjå, but I'm adjusting. I enjoy being back in England.

My last day in Oslo couldn't have been more perfect, however. I made a point of getting up early to finish tidying up my room, throwing the last of my rubbish into my two (stuffed beyond capacity) suitcases, then began the arduous journey from Kringsjå studentby to Oslo Sentralstasjon. It was quite an ordeal lugging both those heavy cases (one weighing 22 kilos, the other 32 kilos, I later discovered) uphill to the Kringsjå T-bane platform, and in retrospect I find it almost laughable the number of able-bodied people who walked past me without looking at me, much less offering to help. If I'd been in America, I later discussed with a friend at church, I would've had people tripping over themselves to help me, but Norway is a country full of very self-sufficient, independent people, so I wasn't bothered or offended. ...still, it would've been nice to have someone lend a hand.

And someone did! While on the train, I bumped into Mike--no, not Minnesota Mike, but Idaho Mike from St. Edmund's--who very kindly helped me transport my luggage to the storage lockers at central station. After that, we walked to church for my last service at St. Edmund's, where I said my goodbyes to all the parishioners; to Rev. Janet who has been so kind to me, to Shannon and Barbara who have been so good about letting me help out with the tea and coffee, to Trond who I only really started speaking to right towards the end of my stay here (sad!), to Geraldine... Honestly, the list goes on and on. Walking out of that church was so difficult for me, but I know I'll be back.

I spent the rest of the afternoon just going around the city. The day before, I'd taken line 3 to Mortensrud just out of curiosity (and found a very nice baguette shop), and so on Sunday I decided to revisit some of my favorite places throughout the city. I wandered down through Nationaltheatret basking in the sunshine and taking some photographs on my blackberry, since I'd already stowed my camera with my luggage, then headed up Karl Johans gate to the palace. I had quite a lot of time to kill before my flight, so I just... napped in the sunshine in the palace gardens, listening to my iPod and enjoying the sunshine.

My Flytog ride was a little emotional, though I managed to keep from crying--mostly because my luggage kept deciding to roll away from me, and I had to dive out of my seat on multiple occasions to try to stow it better. (The two Danes sitting in the seats across from mine chimed in helpful suggestions in Danish, but I think they were mostly just drunk and wanted a laugh at my expense. Meanies.) But that aside, my flight over was pretty nice and uneventful, and our pilot was pretty cheeky, describing our flight from Oslo to London Heathrow as "one hour and fifty-five minutes of action-packed excitement, starting with this riveting security film provided by BA for your entertainment. And safety as well, I suppose." (A bit paraphrased, but that's the gist of it.) I love flying BA. :)

Also: Sitting next to me on the plane was a young Norwegian boy with his grandmother; this was his first trip out of Norway, so when the plane started making its descent, I offered to switch places with him so he could get his first look at London. I think his grandmother really appreciated the gesture, and it tugged at my heart strings a little bit watching this kid, who was only a little older than I was when I had my first proper visit out of the US and back to England, gazing in awe out the window. Seemed fitting somehow.

Uncle Pete met me at the arrivals gate which was lovely, and I came home and crashed after staying up a bit talking with Aunt Jackie. Today we took a tour of Wisley Gardens, somewhere I will go back to later with my camera so I can photograph everything that stands still long enough, but tomorrow I plan to have a bit of a domestic day just doing laundry and getting myself settled into my room here for the next month. Truly, I am glad to be in England, but I don't expect this ache in my heart for Oslo is going to go away anytime soon. I fell in love with the city.

It's hard not to.

A genuine, sincere farewell.

I have been keeping busy.

Actually, I think the more accurate phrasing of that statement is, I have been swamped by pre-departure work. Packing up six months of your life into two suitcases and a box to mail home is difficult, as you might surmise; I have already re-homed my space heater to some random student in Kringsjå, and have delivered Halliburton 2 the jade plant to Julia, who is happy to report that H2 is now good friends with Lily. I have high hopes for their future romance.

After saying goodbye to Tim and Mike at the Oslo S. train platform on Sunday, I was understandably depressed (and England's bombing out of the World Cup didn't help matters), but as the days have progressed, I've found that getting ready to leave has been strangely cathartic. I've been visiting sites around town for the last time, saying goodbye to friends who are still here, going out for the obligatory last beer at Olsens Cafe, even volunteering for my last shift as coffee and tea server at St. Edmund's on Sundays. I'll admit some relief to tying off these loose ends in my life here in Oslo, because it means when it comes time for me to lock the door to my room, haul my luggage up to the platform, and take the T-bane down to Jernbanetorget for the last time, it will seem like the logical, sensible end to things. Of course, I still expect to cry into my hands as I pop across the North Sea to England, but then I will be greeted by my Uncle Pete and the familiarity of Leatherhead and Ashtead, and I will start feeling better.

I don't know if I will update again before I leave Norway, so I will go ahead and make some remarks about the lasting impact of this country upon me while I'm thinking about it. First and foremost, I've gained immeasurable confidence in myself. I know I can live alone successfully in a foreign country, I know I can travel within that country, and I know I can travel outside of it as well. I know that wherever I am, I am amiable and personable enough that I can carve a niche for myself; I can make friends easily, I can become part of a community. Anywhere can become home for me. This was something I felt most scared of when coming here, to be honest--that I would travel thousands of miles only to discover that I had no friends and no connections, and that I would spend my time counting down the days to when I could come back to Huntsville. On the contrary, I know the sadness I felt in saying goodbye to my two best friends here in Norway was tied up in just how much happiness I felt while we were spending time together this year. I suppose this ties in well to one of my last realizations: that the magic of this experience was less about where I was--where I still am, until Sunday--and more about who I became.

What this country did for me, inside and out, through my clumsy (but improving!) attempts to speak Norwegian with the Turkish bakery owners at Forskningsparken T-banestasjon, through allowing me to befriend so many other international students from across Europe and around the world, through giving me the confidence to say, "Yes, I will go out tonight!" is something that has less to do with where Norway is in relation to the rest of the world, and more with how I now see that world. "White nights" at midnight here in Oslo, where the sky stays blue and the horizon glows like it is full of stars. The dazzlingly bright sunset in Bergen at 11:30pm, turning everything orange like it's on fire. The complete silence of the forests around Sognsvann, and me, just laying there in the moss taking in the sunlight, listening to the creeks babbling, watching shy red squirrels in the trees. The bustle of life down at Aker Brygge, cramped quarters on the T-bane, the tram, the bus. Kebab and børek smell, the "old book" smell in the antique shop in Old Kristiania, the fresh laundry smell that I've come to associate with new beginnings. It's the details of everyday life that leap out at me now and remind me, thrillingly, that I am alive, and that, in the words of one of St. Edmund's Colombian parishioners who has become so dear to me, "You are young, you have the passport, and you have the will. That is all you need. You can do anything!"

Norway liberated me--not from Huntsville, of course, but from myself. My own fear of inadequacy that have crippled me into inaction in the past, my fear of failing. These fears kept me from doing, but not anymore. Never again.

This country has set me free.

A real post is forthcoming. But for now...

Tim goes back to Holland in eight hours. Mike goes back to Minnesota in ten hours.

To briefly borrow Jennifer's words: This... is hard.

:(

Winding down.

All things considered, I'm having a lovely second-to-last week in my adopted home town; my friend Ben is visiting me all the way from Alabama, I'm watching copious amounts of World Cup football and overdosing on Wimbledon when on the internet, and I'm communicating lots with my family in Europe arranging my trips to visit them. It looks like my life will be made easiest if I just wait to book flights to see Sylvie and Eddie until I'm in England with my Uncle Peter; they can better instruct me on how to get from place to place.

I'm feeling listless and a little frightened about my future, which I think is to be expected after spending five years as a student, only to have that identity yanked from you once you've finished your studies. When I remember that come August I won't be returning to UAH for classes in Morton and Roberts Hall, I'm put a bit off-balance, but I think that ultimately this transition away from academia and into the world is good for me. When I was eighteen I had such a clear idea of what I wanted to do once I graduated; grad school was a certainty, not only in pursuit of a masters in English or history, but maybe even a PhD, and a future in a classroom surrounded by maps and textbooks and faculty meetings, etc. It is incredibly ironic to me that now at age twenty-three, with some considerable life experience at my disposal that should have given me more direction, I have less of an idea of what I want to do with my life than when I started out as a kid. I don't have the head for a masters or PhD program in history or literature--at least not right now--and I don't want to spend the rest of my life thinking about paper deadlines, critical book reviews, or whether or not my historical and literary analysis can compete with my colleague's. I don't want to look in the mirror every morning feeling as though my self-worth is entirely dependent on which institution published my dissertation... and more importantly, I'm not sure I have it in me to spend years on just one research subject. The anxiety and pressure of writing just one honors thesis was enough to render me completely immobile mentally; I think going after a dissertation would be an absolute disaster for me.

I guess there are simple things I want to do once I get home. I'd like to learn to garden; I'd like to get better at cooking and expand my spice rack; I'd like to get some serious work done on my writing project; I'd like to get involved in St. Thomas's in Huntsville; I'd like to swim in the Tennessee river, and go down to the Gulf to see if I can help clean up the filth on the beaches where I used to play as a child. I want to do things with my hands that produce a visible, tangible result. I'd like to leave more things to chance.

Just for a little while, I want to live a life without deadlines and less certainty. I think it will be good for me.

Movie recommendation.

På norsk.

SEE IT. NOW.

Breathe, and I'll carry you away.

I guess there's no way to write this entry without acknowledging the facts as they are: My grandfather passed away this morning, around 3.30 my time, and I'm still having a difficult time letting the reality of the situation soak in. Tim, Richard and I watched the Netherlands v. Japan World Cup match this afternoon, which was a good idea for me since it gave me something else to focus on than the inside of my own head, but not even in Olsens Cafe could I really get away from the sadness. (The perpetually windy and rainy weather didn't help matters, either; it feels like London here right now.) My friends are looking forward to getting home to their families, and I'm still grappling with the knowledge that two precious personalities in my life won't be waiting for me in Huntsville. Granddaddy's death has reopened the hurt from Nanny's passing in February, but I feel like I don't have the time to properly grieve right now. I've got company this weekend. I'll have company next week. I've got to pack my belongings and mail some of it home. I've got to finalize all my travel plans while I'm in England and France next month. I've got to think about hunting for jobs. I've got to figure out how to send my UiO transcripts back home.


The week hasn't been all bad. On Tuesday I met up with my father's friend Peter Martin again, this time at his and his family's house in the Sinsen neighborhood outside of city center. He and his wife Hilde have a beautiful home with a very lovely, expansive garden; the massive white irises by the patio, in fact, come from roots nicked from Churchill's garden in the UK, which I thought was impressive. That was the first time in months that I've eaten proper meat not in the form of a kebab or pølse, too.

Tim and I went to the Holocaust museum out on Bygdøy on Wednesday, which turned out to be a bit of a cerebral adventure. It's housed in what used to be Quisling's mansion, something I considered very appropriate personally. Most of the exhibit was historical background information on Nazism in the Third Reich, which I already knew mostly by heart--and if I didn't, I'm sure "Frau" Dr. Johnson would be entirely justified in fussing at me. The information on national socialism in Norway was pretty fascinating as well, though I'm not sure how much of it I understood correctly; the whole exhibit was in Norwegian, with no English translations available. Nonetheless I was pretty impressed by my own ability to understand what I was reading. Apparently I've absorbed more "norsk" than I realized. Here's hoping I don't lose it when I go home.

Thursday I had my last barbecue with my Norwegian classmates Maggie, Corinna, and Taka, along with Corinna's boyfriend Benny and Maggie's classmate Carynn. Taka is staying here through September to work, but Maggie and Carynn went back to Germany with Corinna and Benny yesterday in order to start their epic European; it was a pretty bittersweet departure, but it seems like this whole week has been composed of farewells of one sort or another. Bastian, after our trip to Bergen, has gone back to Germany as well; Ray and Charlotte left this week as well on their own tour of Europe; once Daniel leaves on Monday, I don't know when I'll next see him. And, one of the farewells I'm dreading the most, both Tim and Mike leave next weekend, and I'll be here by myself, essentially, until leaving for England on July 4th.

I'll find ways to stay busy, of course. There are still lots of things I'd like to do here in the city, and if I'm feeling brave, I might take a trip down the fjord by train all by myself, to visit another city. It's not as though I dislike being alone. I tend to keep to myself a lot back in Huntsville.

This entry ended on a much sadder note than I'd intended. Sorry, can't help it right now. Maybe I'll feel better if Denmark defeats Cameroon tonight.

Two entries in one day--unprecedented!

But I felt like my entry on Bergen needed to stand alone, as does this entry about more personal things.

My time here in Norway is winding down to a close, and I'm getting ready to pack up all my things, some of which to mail home, and some of which to take with me across the pond to England for a month before I go back to Alabama. I'm not sure what sort of life is waiting for me back in the states; with my grandmother gone and my grandfather soon to pass away as well, I think that so many of these drastic personal changes will overwhelm me. My mother and uncle have had time to adjust to life in Huntsville without phonecalls from Nanny asking, but to me, she is still sitting in that house in the woods in Madison, or getting up early on Saturday mornings to make breakfast for both of us and Cooper. In my mind, my grandfather can't possibly be hooked up to a ventilator in a hospital in Birmingham, because in February I saw him upright and walking and talking, inviting me to come down and see him when I come home. And all I can think to myself is, "Why didn't I spend more time with them?"

I know it does me absolutely no good to beat myself up over things I can't change, and I know this is precisely what my grandparents wouldn't have wanted me to do, but they were both so important to me, and I have to wonder if they knew how much I loved them and respected them, and how much their opinions mattered to me. And I know I can pray and tell them through my faith all of these things, but it guts me in a way I don't have words for when I realize that they have gone to a place where I can't follow, I'll never hear my grandmother laugh or see my grandfather smile again, and it is inevitable that one day my parents will go like this too, and I'll have this pain again but magnified. When I think that every person in the world today must go through this at some point in their lives, it floors me that the universe has the capacity for so much grief in such a tiny, concentrated area like the Earth's surface. I'm stunned that it doesn't buckle inward from the force of so much unhappiness.

But I guess it must be held afloat by the joy our parents and grandparents give us through our lives. They teach us to speak so we can laugh, tease, joke with and love each other. They teach us to walk so they can show us places to go. They teach us family recipes that will always stay with us; the smell of simmering tomato sauce or the taste of sauteed squash taking me back to Friday nights in the third grade as if I never grew up and learned that anyone could make these things, and that they weren't just the realm of my mother's expertise. They hold us when we've been hurt and want to cry, they give us their shoulders to stand on so we can grasp our dreams and learn to pull ourselves up on our own. They aren't perfect, but then again they are, and we know that isn't a paradox because that is just how life works when you are someone's mother, father, grandmother, or grandfather.

The knowledge of what I don't have waiting for me at home steals my breath from me and makes my chest tight, but I know that this grief exists because of all the happiness I've felt for the past twenty-three years. My grandmother and grandfather loved me, and I continue to love them, and even though this pain seems unbearable to me right now, I know that it is a natural, good pain. It will never go away, but it isn't meant to. I'm not meant to recover from this loss, but to weave it into myself so that it becomes part of me and reminds me of why my dreams are worth realizing. Because they believed in me, and I'll be damned if I ever let them down.

Our trip to Bergen.

Bergen was amazing. Just look at that picture of Bastian basking in the sunlight. I knew it would be, of course, because no city with that much history could be anything less than amazing, but I wasn't prepared for just how much I wanted to see and do while I was there. I don't have the photos up on facebook yet, but as soon as I've sorted out the good from the bad, I'll upload them and then post a link here.

The weather was traditionally Bergen-esque our first two days in the city, with torrential rainfall and howling winds after we checked into our hostel that gave way to a perpetual drizzle that followed us mostly everywhere on our second day. This, of course, did nothing to discourage Tim, Mike, Bastian and I from venturing outdoors; we wandered through the historic area of Bryggen, where the Hanseatic merchants did business until well into the 1700s when they were absorbed by the Bergan merchants, to the very end of the pier, and let the wind and rain thoroughly chill and soak us, and then retired to Dr. Livingstone, an indoor/outdoor English pub, to watch World Cup Football matches. (This, it turns out, is how we ended most of our evenings, since the US, Germany, and the Netherlands were all playing their first matches while we were in Bergen.)

In Copenhagen we flocked to museums, but in Bergen we spent nearly all of our time wandering around outdoors taking photographs of the most inconsequential things, because it was impossible to take three steps in any given direction without discovering a new and exciting angle to experiment with. Bergen is carved out of the mountains around it, so it is very likely that one street will literally wind up the mountainside a good four meters above the road and houses parallel to it. In a way it felt very Greek, just tucked away next to Bunnefjorden instead of the Aegean. We took Fløibanen up to the top of Fløyen mountain in order to get an amazing panoramic view of the whole city (totally blanketed by gray fog, clouds and rain, of course, but still absolutely worth it), then decided to head back down the mountain by foot. Bastian and I decided that if trolls were to live anywhere in Norway, it would be within the lush woods that somehow manage to thrive while clinging to the rockface of the mountains cradling the city.

The weather cleared up by Sunday just in time for our tour of Bunnefjorden by boat, though the wind kept me wearing my windbreaker and scarf for pretty much the whole tour. I knew logically that Bergen was going to be colder than Oslo, but I wasn't prepared for just how much colder I was near constantly; not to the point where I was uncomfortable, mind you, because temperatures near 10 and 11C (look, I understand Celsius now!) are always preferable for me. I like any opportunity to bundle up in warm clothing and drape myself in scarves. There were so many small communities and cozy farm houses lining the fjord waterway. I know that it must get incredibly lonely living in such relative isolation here, but honestly, with a view of a fjord out my window every morning, it might be worth it for me. Maybe one day I'll be rich enough to own a house here. (Probably not, but a girl can dream.)

There aren't many Things That We Did, specifically, to note down. Sure, we took Fløibanen, went on the boat tour, visited the preserved Bergen Kontor that now serves as the Hanseatic Museum in Bryggen, but most of what we did just involved walking wherever our feet carried us, finding grassy patches of sunshine to lay in for hours at a time just soaking in the summer air, and letting Bergen seep into us.

On my first night in the city, I bumped into a particularly chatty Norwegian woman in Dr. Livingstone--yes! a Norwegian who actually wanted to talk to a complete stranger!--who gave me a saying that I feel, in retrospect, is quite apt for this trip: "Oslo may have the capital, but Bergen has the soul of Norway."

I think she's right.

An update with substance!

Finally! It feels like forever since I've had something to write about. The frequency of my blog posts has been steadily declining since last month, but I hope that here in the next few weeks, I'll have lots more exciting posts for you as I wrap up my time living here in Europe.

My lovely friend Vonnie visited me from the 4th of June through yesterday, and I was very sad about having to take her back to Oslo S. ): But I'll be seeing her next month before I fly home to the US, so I'm not too gutted. We had a lot of fun, too, with nearly every evening ending with a barbecue out by Sognsvann... as you can see, judging by the picture to the right. Tim's friends (Claire, Rosa and Dimitri--hello, you three!) were visiting him on holiday from their studies as well, so our little social circle became quite the international hodge-podge.

It's amazing how relaxed summers in Norway are. Everywhere we go, we see Norwegians laying out in the green grass with disposable grills nearby, enjoying the sunshine, the cool breeze, sommerøl, and the company of friends and family. You can pretty much set up a grill wherever you like, too. There are much fewer restrictions here on where grilling is allowed than in, say, the UK or back home in the US. After all, we just set up our grill right beside the lake and chilled out until almost 11pm--and the sky was still blue, with a white horizon.

This Thursday I take my last final exam of my university career, but I'll save the "I am no longer a student, ahhhh" identity crisis post until after Tim, Mike, Bastian and I get back from Bergen. Because, yes, we are headed to Bergen on Friday! When we get back, there's the possibility that we might go straight from Bergen to Trondheim, since that is the only week free for travel I've got left in Norway, but I'll have to sort it out with the boys before we book anything.

So there's your blog post, probably until after I get back from Bergen. Hope you enjoyed it! :)

Hadet bra <3

Yet another quick and inconsequential update.

My silence this time is not due to hours spent studying, but to this:

Vonnie is visiting me until Monday! Thus far we've barbecued down by Sognsvann twice, and have taken tea up at Frognerseteren, which was absolutely brilliant. Today we're going to pilfer kebabs from the kebab shop at Majorstuen, then have a wander around Vigelandsparken. It's going to be grand. :D (Vonnie, stop reading over my shoulder.)

hadet <3

A message from the void.

Two exams down, one left to go! Thus far I haven't been brutally eviscerated by anything, but there is still the daunting task of going through all of these historical conservation chapters and compendiums before I feel confident. So until then, you will have to make do with continued radio silence from yours truly--and honestly, you haven't missed much. I've been cooped up in my room for going on a week and a half now, I'm going crazy.

But, once exams are over as of June 10th (*sobs*) I will be free! Like these guys.

Ahh, to be a russ kid in good ol' Norge. American high school seniors, we totally missed out.

Hello, blog!

Sorry I haven't updated in a while. I've mostly been revising for my exams and doing my level best to ward off whatever illness has stricken me this time around. Right now I'm operating under the assumption that this is just the usual End Of Semester Sludge that invariably gets me down, and doesn't appear to care one way or another which country I'm in--I'm a stress-related illness magnet. Everyone's got a talent, right?

The 17th of May came and went, and was plenty of good fun for everyone involved, even if I did have a splitting headache most of the day and was too short to get many decent shots of the parade or its participants. (I do have a very shiny, very small photo of the Royal Family, though! Not bothering to upload it because it's not that impressive.) We started the day with breakfast on campus and ended it seeing a free concert near the harbor... where I apparently ended up in the pølse queue behind Alexander Rybek of EuroVision fame. Don't ask me any questions about him, I really couldn't tell you anything useful since I'm no EuroVision fanatic--but he did perform later in the evening, and his violin skills were pretty extraordinary.

If the tone of my writing seems a little off today, that's because my mood is rather off, too. I think the closer it gets to time for my departure, the more I am taking strides to distance myself emotionally from the inevitable pain I'll experience from leaving. There are plenty of reasons for me not to do this: Being in a grumpy mood is, unfortunately, contagious. I've still got lots of adventures left to embark on before I leave, including Vonnie's visit and possibly Ben's, and a trip to Bergen with both Mike and Tim. But I know that when I see them off to the airport and have to say goodbye, that will be my last goodbye to either of them for quite some time. It's hard not to be sad in the face of that, and I'd probably do this blog a disservice if I didn't write a little bit about those feelings.

I have both my Nordic languages and Norwegian language exams next week, so I should probably get back to studying for another hour or so. Tonight, I'm going to watch the Champions League final, Bayern-München v. Inter Milan--go Bayern!

Some thoughts about church.

I argued with myself for a little bit over whether or not this entry was appropriate for a travel blog, but ultimately I have decided that it is if only because this revelation came to me while living in this country, and was ultimately inspired by the church community that has embraced me during my stay here. I don't expect everyone to find this entry as interesting or as meaningful as it will be to a few of you, or as it is to me, and that's all right. Just know that what I'm writing about is very close to my heart, and treat it gently if you want to comment on it.

I won't spend a whole lot of time talking about why I decided to become Episcopal/Anglican/Anglo-Catholic rather than Protestant, because that probably deserves a completely different blog entry with lots of different points that I'm not sure I've got the ecclesiastical vocabulary to cover just yet. (Give me a few more chapters in Aquinas and I'll get back to you.) For now I think it's more than enough to say that of all Christian denominations out there right now, and there are plenty, this is the one that I felt most drawn to and comfortable in, even if according to my Uncle Trace this makes me "stuffy and old fashioned." But even if I feel comfortable within this denomination, within the predictable rituals and hymns and chants and sacrament of communion, it's still not always easy for me to be an educated 21st century woman and a Christian at the same time.

Church life and community has never been something that I've felt a part of in Huntsville, though I'd like to say this isn't for lack of trying. When I was younger I would sometimes go to church with my uncle or grandparents in Birmingham, and although I could tell that everyone around me felt moved and inspired by the minister's passion, no amount of contemporary Christian rock or enthusiastic shouting really made me feel connected to any divine presence, within me or without. I mostly just felt like I stood out by being too reserved and clearly uncomfortable. For a while I stopped bothering even going to church on Sundays, even after I was baptized and supposedly committed to a life that was considered appropriate in the eyes of some church community, somewhere, but I didn't really feel it. I suppose in a way anyone who claims that they do feel it completely is probably deluding themselves, because anyone who has faith of any kind in anything constantly struggles with issues of doubt and skepticism. We're analytical creatures with analytical minds, and sometimes reconciling what we see in front of us with what we feel surrounding and filling us can be a daunting struggle. I feel my emotions intensely; I love intensely, I believe intensely, and conversely, I doubt intensely as well. This is a struggle that I grapple with daily both in Huntsville and here in Oslo, and I don't suppose that faith will ever, or should ever, be something that comes easily to me.

At home in Alabama, a part of the United States that is supposedly very Christian-centric and friendly towards "believers" (I hate that term), it felt almost as difficult as pulling teeth to carve out a niche for myself in a Christian community. I felt a bit at war with myself, if I'm being totally honest. Around my educated university friends, I felt as though my faith was a curiosity, something harmless if a bit peculiar that didn't quite fit into the image of the researcher student I was trying to cultivate--and conversely, I always felt at odds with whatever church community I warmed up to, possibly because I couldn't quite feel the same blind faith as other parishioners, or because my faith seemed so different and somehow unusual compared to theirs. (Which was sort of arrogant thinking at the time, since I now believe that no two practitioners of any religion have identical beliefs about anything!) It was like walking the line between the secular and spiritual worlds, when never the twain should meet, which strikes me now as ultimately not at all what my life should feel like. I shouldn't feel the need to 'turn off' the spiritual part of my life whenever I delved into the secular, and vice versa, but before now I couldn't figure out a way to bring the two together in a harmonious fashion. A good deal of that confusion stemmed from my own fear of acceptance or rejection either from my friends or whatever church I was trying to hold onto. This fear kept me from fully exploring my own faith and skepticism, and also letting my friends see just how big a part of my life my spirituality really is. For that, I'm sorry both to my friends for keeping this from them, and to myself for bottling it up for so long.

Something about leaving Huntsville and all of the frightening expectations of church life and community there, and delving head first into my church community in Oslo has opened up my heart and my mind to a different kind of belief that isn't just cerebral, which I'd more or less damned myself to in Huntsville by hiding from the other parishioners and priests, and only getting involved in church life to the extent that I attended mass occasionally on Wednesdays as well as Sundays. The Church of the Nativity Episcopal in Huntsville felt like a place that I visited with affection, but inevitably left me uncomfortable and even wracked with guilt if I should happen to accidentally track mud inside the chapel on Wednesday or Sunday mornings. At St. Edmund's my faith feels like a tangible thing I work at with my hands, and I feel this has everything to do with my decision to get personally involved immediately upon setting foot in the church.

The solution to my fear and anxiety was so simple, really: I serve tea and coffee.

Having never done any sort of missionary work which undoubtedly requires a much stronger test of faith than to merely ask the rota committee if they'd like another volunteer on Sunday mornings, I can only guess that this feeling might be similar to what missionaries feel when they leave their home church communities and go elsewhere into the world to do good works. For me, I can't even personally say that I have a home church, and that is my own fault, something I will talk about soon. Nativity Episcopal has been a church that I have enjoyed visiting, but even after two solid years of going there multiple times a month, that is still exactly what I feel like inside the church: a visitor. At St. Edmund's, I have only attended five church services (missing two Sundays because of Jennifer's visit, and then because of a tourist opportunity throughout the city), and yet I know when I step inside those old doors, the smiling face who hands me the hymnal, book of common prayer, and program for the day is going to know who I am, and ask me kindly, "Welcome back, Elisabeth, how was your week?" No one at Nativity has ever offered to drive me home from service because it was raining, and yet today my fellow parishioner John did just that, and drove me home to Kringsjå so I wouldn't have to wait for the tram in the rain. I didn't even have to ask, and didn't even think to ask, and felt humbled and grateful all the same.

If I had stayed at home in Huntsville and continued struggling with my relationship to Nativity, I think I would have completely given up entirely and resolved to just stay home on every Sunday from then on. But leaving home and coming to stay here in Oslo has been like my own little missionary excursion just for myself; the good works I'm doing are for my own spiritual growth as a Christian and Anglo-Catholic, something I can say without arrogance or conceit, and I know now that St. Edmund's has not been the solution to my "church problem," but my catalyst for solving it. I had to completely remove myself from the South and all of my preconceived notions of what it meant to be a Christian in the South, and an educated student in the "Bible Belt," in order to see what good could be done for myself, as well as for these people whose lives I touch only briefly every Sunday, by getting involved no matter where I am. It sounds trivial, but by helping Geraldine set up for coffee in the mornings, or remembering that Rev. Sammy can't take milk in his tea, or that Andrew and his wife always have two coffees a piece, I strengthen not only my connection to my fellow parishioners, but my faith in the divine as well.

Having gotten to this point in my introspective blog entry, I'm not entirely sure how to end it. I've shared a lot of very personal and private thoughts with all of you that I hope has been revealing about me as a person in lots of positive ways. I hope you don't walk away from this entry feeling as though I've done nothing but wax sanctimonious at you for however long it took you to read from start to finish, because really, this is just a testimony of what has helped strengthen my faith in a way nothing else has.

Sometimes the first step really is as simple as washing out a teapot.

Ahh!

JEG SNAKKER NORSK!

I går kveld snakket jeg mye, mye norsk sammen med venner og andre folk. Ikke engelsk! (Okay, litt engelsk.) Det var ganske fantastisk! Veldig kjempebra! Når venn min Damon snakket til meg på norsk, jeg forstått ham. Så, i dag er jeg veldig lykkelig, og skal snakke mer norsk når gå jeg til Sogn med Tim.

På engelsk:

Last night I spoke a LOT of Norwegian with Mike, Tim, Damon, and some people we bumped into at Velferden, Kringsjå's student pub. It was absolutely amazing! I mostly spoke with Damon, but it was amazing for me because I understood him completely, and I think that he understood me.

One thing that has been a constant obstacle for my learning Norwegian is that, when I try to speak Norwegian or respond to a question in Norwegian, I first have to translate the sentences in my head. But last night the more I spoke my stilted, lousy Norwegian, the more I started thinking in Norwegian instead of English (though a few times I did accidentally say "parce-que" instead of "ferdi," which was kind of funny). It is amusing that I really start gaining confidence in this language right before I'm set to go back home, but I think from now on when I'm out in the city, I am going to try very, very hard to speak Norwegian instead of relying on the crutch that is English. Last night really proved to me that I know more than I realized I did, and I need to feel more confident with the language in order to learn more. And I will start tonight when we head down to Sogn for Seidi's Estonian party. :)

Hadet bra!

Football, classes, birthdays and more!

Actually, this won't be a very long blog entry because while I have done a lot over the past couple of days, none of it needs much expanding upon.

This week marks my last week of classes not just at the University of Oslo, but also in my undergraduate career. ): I've got to say that I feel rather bittersweet about the whole situation since being a student has been part of my self identity for a very long time, and now I know that for at least a year or two I won't be one anymore. But that's just part of the way these phases of our life go; we transition into one thing and out of another, and then eventually we have to move on yet again, so I am trying very hard not to be overly sad or morose about the whole situation. I have absolutely loved being a student, but I know that I need to take time off to look after myself for a little bit.

Yesterday, I believe, marks my favorite day of the week thus far because together with Charlotte, we threw Ray a surprise birthday party. :D It was a bit of an adventure at first because we ended up taking the tram from Majorstuen instead of from Oslo S., so Ray very nearly beat us to Charlotte's apartment before Charlotte phoned to delay him. She lives in a very nice part of the city, actually, in a lovely, cozy flat with a marvelous kitchen that I'd like to have for myself if I'm being honest. The surprise dinner consisted mostly of pita stuffed with guacamole, some awesome chicken stew, and then a dessert of epic death cake that was so chocolate-y that I nearly died on the spot. The strawberry cake was delicious as well, but I almost didn't have room for it after all the chocolate! Anyway, we ended up taking a (very tipsy) Ray to a pub in Grünnerløkka that Tim and I actually found back in January during one of our first adventures through the city, and it was so packed inside that sitting really wasn't much of an option. Overall, though, it was a fantastic evening, and I was thoroughly tuckered out by the time I got home and flopped into bed.

Tonight I'm going to Sogn with Tim again for dinner at Damon's flat, then the quiz at Amatøren, and unless I'm mistaken tomorrow is the Estonian dinner party at Seidi's flat as well. Saturday marks one of the last barbecues I'm going to have with my Norwegian language classmates out at Maggie's flat in Bjerke, and if the weather isn't lousy, I think we might try to grill out by Sognsvann on Sunday. I've got a very busy weekend ahead of me, but it's going to be good fun. :)

Have some Stereophonics!

Ha det <3

Norwegian wood, and some other thoughts.

I think Sognsvann is quickly becoming my most favorite corner of Oslo, even on cloudy days with plenty of overcast. With all the snow gone and the temperatures warming up, everything is gradually growing bright green; I spent a ridiculous amount of time just laying in the grass and moss quite a way's off the main path, listening to all the different natural sounds. It isn't that much different from what I'd hear on Monte Sano in Huntsville, actually; birds crying, wind in the trees, distant conversations, etc. And like Huntsville, it doesn't take very long at all to leave the heart of the city and find yourself sequestered away in a small, private corner of the wilderness. (Though I think I was less alone than I suspected at the time; I couldn't get a picture of it, but I think I glimpsed an elk near the dam.)

My final exams for my courses are coming up soon, and then my last trip with my friends here at the university. I think I've managed to see lots of new and exciting places this year; Glasgow in Scotland (even if it wasn't planned), Amsterdam in the Netherlands, Copenhagen in Denmark, the lovely Swedish countryside with all its massive wind turbines, idyllic "Gamle" Fredrikstad further south along Oslofjorden--and of course Oslo itself, a city I now feel I know as well as Huntsville, and love just as much. I still have plenty to see before I go home to Huntsville: a possible trip with my Norwegian classmates to Göteberg in Sweden next week, Bergen with Mike and Tim at the start of June, London with family, Winchester and Canterbury with Von, Norfolk with Alistair, a return to Cambridge for a day if I can swing it, and possibly a visit to my aunt and cousin in France. There's so much more to do, and though I'm sad I wasn't able to visit Helsinki or Stockholm, I know I'll find a way to visit both cities in the future.

I need to start thinking about what I am going to do with myself when I get back to Huntsville. I suppose the logical thing would be to start looking for a job, since by that point I will have my degree and be a university graduate (how scary is that?!). Do I want to move out and find my own place or continue living at home with my dad? What sort of job do I want? Do I want to start thinking about graduate school or delay those plans for a while? All these questions are swimming around in my head, and I can't really answer any of them until I am back stateside. The open-endedness of all my options is terrifying and exciting at the same time. I can, in fact, do whatever I want.

Hei, venner min! :)

I'm so glad some of you told me that you're actually reading this thing. I was starting to think I was just writing it for myself and my dad. (Hi, Dad.)

Also, I woke up this morning to this:

Is that snow, you ask?

Yes. Yes it is.

At first it didn't look like the snow was going to accumulate.

...then I got home from class. :(

Oh Norway. <:T

Turist i egen by

Yesterday was a rather special occasion for all of Oslo because of a rather marvelous special event hosted by the city itself, callde "Turist i egen by." The meaning of that phrase is rather straightforward; you're a tourist in your own city. Mind you, I've been doing a fair amount of Oslo touristing myself since about mid February or so, so many of the events that were listed in the catalog to visit were places I've already been to. However, the OSLO Pass grants you free entrance to all different sorts of places that normally require an entry fee, so I took advantage of the free day in order to visit the Norwegian Resistance Museum, bits of Akerhus Castle, and the Nobel Peace Center.

I definitely think that the Norwegian Resistance Museum was my favorite of the three, and I'm kicking myself now for not bringing my camera with me. All of the exhibits were very cleverly laid out, with lots of small models of different battles or resistance operations, and I found out lots of cool things about Oslo during the Second World War that I didn't know about before--including the fact that there was a concentration camp called Grini located on the outskirts of the city. According to Wikipedia most of it has been torn down by now, but apparently one barracks is preserved alongside a small museum. I doubt it will be anything like Dachau, but I would still like to find a way to go sometime, maybe for an afternoon trip or something. Akerhus Castle and the Nobel Peace Center were both quite fun, though I've been up to Akerhus Castle quite a lot since arriving in January. There was apparently some sort of medieval expo going on, though, so lots of Norwegians were out in the castle courtyard in medieval attire... and I shot a bow. :D That was quite thrilling. The Peace Center was pretty fascinating but rather small, and I spent most of it listening to Obama's speech over the loudspeaker.

Amatøren hosted a movie night last night, and showed "Harold & Maude." Gotta say, despite the sad ending, it was a very good, quirky movie, and I definitely want to see it again.

May 5th is Cinqo de Mayo! And also the date of the Vålerenga football match. :) We're going to party, it's going to be grand.

Hadet!

Something I thought of doing a while ago!

If you visit Oslo, you must...

• Have a kebab. And not just any kebab, but a kebab from the Majorstuen Kebab Shop. Hint hint: you get off the T-bane at Majorstuen to get there. ;D
• Visit Holmenkollen and admire the view of the fjord! It's beautiful in every season.
• Eat at least once at Peppe's Pizza. Pizza, if you didn't know, is actually more "traditionally Norwegian" these days than reindeer steak or whale meat.
• Walk the length of Akerselva--though I'd suggest doing that when the weather is relatively warm, otherwise you won't see much.
• Visit the harbor and admire the cross-eyed statue of FDR leading up to Akerslott.
• ...visit Akerslott!
• Go to either Waldemar's or the Evergreen for a night of drunken shenanigans with good friends, and on your way back home...
• ...stop by a Narvesen--Norway's answer to the 7/11--and have yourself a baconpølse. Honestly, those things will never taste quite as grand as they do while you're drunk.
• Get up early at least once and walk around Sognsvann lake before the sun has properly come up. You'll appreciate the view.
• Snakk litt norsk!

If you visit Huntsville, you must...

• Visit the Space & Rocket Center. Seriously, it's our main tourist attraction, you must go at least once!
• Wander up Monte Sano and spend an afternoon just exploring the trails. And, of course, visit the overlook.
• Go to Jamo's and enjoy a delicious gyro wrap!
• Buy very lousy ice cream at the floating kiosk at Ditto Landing by the Tennessee River.
• Head up to Burritt on the Mountain (the Burritt Museum) and admire our house composed entirely of straw! ...well, sort of. It's gorgeous, and if you're here during the summer, you should check the museum's schedule and see when/if there are any Shakespeare productions going on.
• Go on the Ghost Walk around downtown, I've heard it can be pretty creepy.
• ...actually, just go anywhere downtown. Especially to the historic district, just to admire the old antebellum houses and Constitution Village. If it's a hot summer afternoon, pop into Sam & Greg's for some pizza made from local Alabama ingredients and some gelato.
• And, since you're in the area, head down to Big Spring Park and enjoy the cherry blossoms if they're in bloom, or just entertain yourself staring at the horrifyingly gigantic koi in the pond.

Oslo and Huntsville folks, have I forgotten anything? :) Chime in!

Nå skal jeg "norske" for deg!

Hei, og god morgen! I dag skal jeg snakke litt om byen min.

Jeg kommer fra USA og bor i Nord-Alabama. Byen min er Huntsville, og det ligger bare sør for Tennessee. Det er hjem for meg. :) Universitetet mitt er også i Huntsville. Det heter "UAHuntsville." Der studerer jeg historie og engelsk litteratur, og også litt fransk. UAHuntsville er ikke så stort. Det har bare 7,400 studenter, og fikk i 1950.

Huntsville har en oppnavn! Det heter "Rocket City" på engelsk, fordi det har museet heter "U.S. Space and Rocket Center." Vi er kjempestolt av det! Også i Huntsville er en militaerbase heter "Redstone Arsenal." Vi har mange soldater i byen min.

I Huntsville er det mange steder å spise. Liker du indisk og gresk mat? Huntsville har mange indisk og gresk restauranter--og også meksikansk, naturlig. Faren min og jeg spiser meksikansk ofte. Favoritt restauranten vår er "El Mariachi." Mat deres are kjempegodt!

Liker du filmer? Huntsville har fem kinoer. Der kan du se mange filmen sammen med venner.

Liker du naturen? Du kan gå på Monte Sano, eller svømme i Tennessee elva. Vi også har mange byenparker hvor barna å spille.

Huntsville er veldig hyggelig byen. Hvis du reiser til USA, du må besøke byen min--og spiser mye meksikanskmat, selvfølgelig.

Takk skal du ha, vi ses!

--

(This is the very tidy version of what I will be reading out loud for my oral exam. Here's hoping I hit all my talking points!)

The Sunday excursion, plus some other travel-related thoughts.

Stavkirken at the Norwegian Folk museum! This was the main attraction of our Sunday excursion, and I'm glad I was able to take some shots of the exterior, as well as some of the interior even though they didn't turn out that well. We actually spent Sunday morning prior to this adventure at Sogn student residence with Damon and his crew, enjoying a delicious Hong Kong style breakfast and chatting together. And, in fact, the evening ended in a very similar fashion, with a German film called "Lola rennt" that lacked English subtitles. That was okay with me, however, because I could actually understand the Norwegian subtitles passably well. I'm getting better! ...sort of!

Monday morning I did, unfortunately, have to take Jennifer back to central station to see her off back to Germany, but I'm so glad she was able to visit even if only for a weekend. And it seems like my luck where visitors are concerned is only getting better, since at the beginning of June I am going to have a visit from my dear friend Vonnie as well! I mentioned her back at the start of my trip when I was stranded in Glasgow, since she very kindly offered to phone me and keep me company for a little bit as I was quite lonely (and cold). It will be very nice to show my other BFF around my favorite corner of Scandinavia.

Barring any day excursions into the fjord that my friends and I might make, I have at last planned out the rest of my adventures here in Europe. On 11 June (after Vonnie's visit), Mike, Tim and I are taking the train from Oslo S. to Bergen, where we will stay until the 14th, before presumably coming back to Kringsjå. I've even gone so far as to book my flight to England for 4 July, where I will spend some time with my family and friends before going back to America.

At the moment, my scheduled departure from the UK is still the 31st of July, which I have contemplated moving up some since that is an awful long time to be in England, but at the same time I wouldn't mind taking the opportunity to do some traveling within the country; I haven't done that in a proper way since I graduated high school and spent my summer at Cambridge in 2005. I'd love to go back to Cambridge for an afternoon perhaps and visit all my old haunts, or take the opportunity to travel up to Scotland and give Edinburgh a chance to properly repair my image of Scotland; my one and only visit there was pretty awful, though those were special circumstances, weren't they? If I have the time, I would also like very much to visit my Aunt Sylvie and cousin Michaela--and her daughter Toriah!--in France as well, and visit the Basque region. I'd be there in July, in time for perfect weather and glorious sunshine--and I would have the chance to practice my French again!

Sometimes I feel like I've been in this country for years rather than just months, and I mean that in a good way. My friends here are all remarkable and wonderful people who made this experience the gem that it is for me, and I'll never forget the memories we've created together. Man, listen to me, getting all sentimental while I've still got two months left to spend with them, and three months left before I go back to America. I should just enjoy the time I have left!

Jeg hadde ei Jennifer!

I'm sure my Norwegian is wrong there, but oh well. :) As usual, you can go here for more pictures.

My dear friend Jennifer visited me this past weekend, and this morning I had to escort her to Oslo S. so that she could make her flight back to Germany, but that certainly didn't stop us from having one wild and crazy time! Well, certainly crazy. ...perhaps nerdy and snarky are better words. We're not exactly the wild or crazy type.

We started off the adventure at Waldemar's on Friday night, mine, Tim and Mike's favorite pub, but the real adventuring started on Saturday morning when we hurried to make the T-bane up to Holmenkollen. Tim served as our adventuring compatriot for the day, and he very kindly took most of the pictures of Jen and me together so that we wouldn't have to go pestering complete strangers. As you can see from this photo, the view of the fjord is just as spectacular during spring as it is during the winter, and I am delighted to say that my good friend seemed to enjoy this first adventure into Oslo immensely.

I do have to say, however, that this Saturday was the single most bizarre day I've spent in Oslo yet, and I've been here for four months now. For one thing, the russes were out in abundance.

I'm not sure if you're familiar with russ tradition, but Wikipedia actually dedicates a pretty detailed article to this particular aspect of Norwegian society. Russes are Norwegian high schoolers (videregående skole is their equivalent to high school, I believe) weeks away from graduation, who partake in an excessive amount of partying and general silly behavior traditionally from May 1st through 17th until their exams. The red (and blue) overalls are apparently a requirement, and they aren't supposed to wash or remove them except for sleeping purposes. Sounds a bit, uh, scary. For some reason they're out rather early this year, but I managed to snap lots of pictures of them.

Here we spy the russ in their natural habitat, sporting their bright scarlet seasonal plumage.

And here we find even more russ doing nothing particularly useful in Vigelandsparken. But even more peculiar than red-clad Norwegian teenagers chilling on sculptures of oddly positioned naked people was, well, this:

Why yes, those are Danish flags billowing in the breeze in front of Rådhuset! Why were there Danish flags everywhere? I don't know, but I blame the gigantic, 30 meter tall lego statue. It seemed quite suspicious to me. Actually, these peculiarities just made the day all the more exciting for us, and I'm delighted Jen was able to see such eccentric aspects of my favorite little European metropolis. I'll write another entry detailing our adventures on Sunday; I just wanted to touch on the highlights of Saturday for now.

Hadet!

A Deutschlander decides a bit of Norsking is on the agenda!

Tomorrow, I get one of these!

A Jen! Assuming all goes swimmingly at the airport, of course. Iceland, no more vomiting up ash and volcano, at least not until Monday evening, svp.

I've got a general idea of what we'll get up to during her visit. Friday night, we will introduce her to Uglebo, the student pub lurking beneath Sophus Bugge on Blindern campus, and then afterwards scoot along to mine and Tim's favorite haunt these days, Waldemar's. Saturday morning we'll head up to the end of Holmenkolbanen (line 1) via both T-bane and bus so that we can get some gorgeous shots of the fjord in spring time, and also spend an insane amount of kroner on the reindeer steak that I still have yet to eat in this country. I figure we can make good use of the rest of the afternoon by visiting the Munch museum, then perhaps taking the ferry across to Bygdøy so she can explore Kon-Tiki and the Norwegian folk museum. Maybe the Viking ship museum, too. Sunday will probably be a little more chill after walking our feet off on Saturday, and then on Monday, alas, I will have to ship her back to Germay. ): Sad day, sad day.

It has come to the point in my trip where I need to look at planning out the rest of my travels instead of just saying, "Oh, I'll do that later." It's a little bittersweet for me to realize that I'll need to start planning out when I will be flying to London, and from there back home to Huntsville, but I've done a lot of traveling over the last four months and should probably cut myself some slack in that regard. And who's to say my traveling will necessarily come to an end once I'm in America again? After all, there are still quite a few Canadian provinces I haven't seen, and I still haven't gone to Mexico.

Ahh, the possibilities!

Oh yeah!

It's been a while since I spammed my loyal readers with some music to enjoy, much less anything Nordic in nature. I think everyone knows of my infatuation with Sigur Ros, but one of my favorite Icelandic artists right now is Mugison. He's got an impressive range and plays a cool combination of blues + indie.

Enjoy!

So, that volcano.

I guess I can't really make an entry about my travels abroad without making note of this darling little event. This entry serves mainly to put my concerned relatives (hi, Dad) at ease about whether or not I'm choking on molten, volcanic ash. (Hint hint: I'm not.)

For those of you who don't pay much attention to international news, Eyjafjallajoekull, a volcano in Iceland, began erupting last Wednesday--something that no one here in Norway really noticed at first unless they were traveling or trying to travel, because the weather has, in fact, been glorious for the past two weeks. Aside from one or two days where certain parts of the city reported a bit of accumulated ash (I personally have seen none), Oslo itself seems to have been spared the irritation of volcanic particles building up on our windowsills or making travel between cities a hassle. The rest of Europe, I'm afraid, has been thrown into total chaos; I've been keeping close tabs on all developments via the BBC, who have been extraordinary about writing detailed articles every day. My main concern at this juncture is whether or not all of these delays will prevent my friend Jennifer from visiting me from Germany. As I understand it, mainland Europe is in a bit of a tighter spot where all of these travel restrictions are concerned. :/ I'll keep my fingers crossed and hope for the best.

As you can see, the amoebic ash cloud of doom is making its wandering way just south of us. It's all sunshine and blue skies here; nothing dramatic at all.

Really, that was my only reason for writing this update, so that all of you back home know what the status quo is here at the moment. Rest assured that I'll update this further with more details if they become relevant.

Hadet. <3

Fredrikstad!

"Gamle Fredrikstad" ("Old Fredrikstad") is the charming, historical section of present day Fredrikstad, which is located about an hour and a half of Oslo by bus or train. Originally we were supposed to take the train down, but NSB canceled our train for some reason; still, they helpfully put us on a bus for no charge, and we were able to take the train back at the end of the day. And this, dear readers, is where we spent essentially the entirety of Friday--and it was beautiful.

The decision to make this trip was more or less impromptu; Thursday night found Tim and I trying to sort out what to do with our Friday morning and afternoon assuming the weather cooperated, and we eventually decided on this small town. I got the general impression, after we arrived, that this was the sort of place where everyone knew everyone else, their business, and their cousins' businesses, so I expect we stood out a bit as tourists. The gorgeous sunshine and relatively gentle cool breeze had everyone outdoors enjoying themselves, us included. We took tea (and coffee) at the adorable (and expensive) café across the street from this one, before popping over to the bakery for the best baguette I've eaten in my entire life.

The whole day was a series of "bests" to be honest. The best weather, the best baguette, the best rosé wine, etc. For a day excursion, I don't think we could possibly have done better if we tried, because so many different factors lined up to make the day fulfilling and relaxing in all regards. I even enjoyed "Gamlebyen"'s small museum and its exhibit on travel, which actually provided a pretty cool interactive element. On a flat map of the world was printed one question: "Hvor er det beste stedet du har vaert? Merk av på kartet." To translate, roughly, "Where are the best places that you've been? Mark them on the map." To my astonishment, someone had actually marked the area around Tuscaloosa in Alabama already--so I did my bit and planted a shiny green pin in Huntsville. :) It seemed only right, after all.

I must have a soft spot in my heart for small towns the world over, because whenever I travel it is always these smaller towns or communities that most leave an impression on me. Actually, I suppose that isn't a fair statement to make. I don't think any European city has gotten to me quite the same way Oslo has, since I've called it home for the past three months, and Oslo is definitely not a small town. But Fredrikstad possesses an incredible amount of personality and individuality that extends even to the small cemetery we found time to visit. (I've got a thing for grave photography, I guess. Maybe I'm too morbid for my own good.) I think I spend more time wandering around cemeteries than most people my age, save for perhaps my dear friend Joseph, and even though I always love my jaunts through Maple Hill Cemetery in Huntsville, even the oldest headstones there don't have the same personal touch as the stones I wandered past. (Also, I didn't know this before I looked him up online, but Ragnar "Joker" Pedersen was actually a fairly well known Norwegian cartoonist who lived and worked in Fredrikstad, and even has his own Wikipedia article. På norsk, selvfølgelig. ;D)

Overall, one of the most delightful discoveries while planning this trip was how comparatively affordable it was--aside from one cringe-worthy moment where we discovered that a glass of Borg costed us a whopping 63 kroner. ..I'm glad I went for the rosé wine instead. Anyway, given how close the cities within the fjord are to Oslo, I expect we'll be heading off on more weekend trips like this in the future. Next time, perhaps Halden?

Oh yeah, and one more highlight:

The Google Earth car drove past us! Who knows, you might see me featured in Fredrikstad if you ever need to find your way along Kirkengaten, someday.

Hadet. <3

Coming soon...

Our first real adventure along the fjord! This update, when I'm not exhausted, sunburnt, and still catching up on homework.

Hadet. <3

Hallo hallo

Mostly written at the behest of my father, who is eager to see what I've been up to these past few days since my last update.

I don't have much to report unfortunately, though that doesn't mean I've done nothing. The weather has been deliriously beautiful here since Friday, so whenever possible I've been outside enjoying the sunshine--that and writing a 2,300 word qualifier for my konservasjon class, which I thankfully turned in two days ago. Monday gave us such good weather that Tim and I decided to walk home from Blindern to Kringsjå--detouring by Ullevål stadion so I could buy a Vålerenga scarf, and so we could pop into the wine shop. We watched football Monday afternoon, it was quite nice. Yesterday we gave a small dinner party on our floor; it was wonderful just to sit around a dinner table sharing good food and wine with such lovely friends.

Today I've done nothing but homework, unfortunately, which seems like such a pity given how sunny it is outside. ): But hopefully this coming Friday, Tim and I will take the ferry down the fjord to a neighboring city for an afternoon. I just hope the weather stays this marvelous.

Brief hiatus.

As with most students around here, I fell far behind on my studies over the two week påskeferien, meaning now I've got to play catch-up on all manner of assignments--and, of course, begin studying for my final exams. I almost can't believe that they're looming ahead of me, but I've still got a handful of months left here to enjoy my last semester as an undergrad student.

Friday was glorious weather, and so Mike, Tim, Damon and I set out into the city to enjoy the balmy 10C weather and dazzling sunshine. We even took the ferry out into the fjord for a brief ride; nothing glamorous, but absolutely worth it.

Jeg elsker deg, Oslo. <3

It is impossible to live in Europe and not become infatuated with football.

At least, it feels that way!

Yesterday evening, Tim, Mike, Damon and I went to Waldemar's and ended up watching a fantastic football match between Bayern München and Manchester United. Anyone who knows anything about me knows who I was pulling for, and so I was overjoyed when Bayern defeated Manchester and went through in the Champion's League. :D Seeing the match reminded me of my time in Munich with Jennifer in 2008, and the addictive energy that one invariably picks up just being near football fans. It is interesting to me that I don't feel the same kind of excitement over American football matches, but I suppose I feel that American football is too exclusive; the rest of the world can't participate in our silly Super Bowl or Iron Bowl madness, whereas last night I got to watch a football match that was undoubtedly an international experience. The players weren't just from Germany or Great Britain, but from Brazil, Portugal, Holland (as Tim frequently reminded us :P)--everywhere in the world. Maybe if American football felt less like a defensive assertion of "Americanness" and more like something to be shared with our neighbors, I'd enjoy it more.