With a month and one day left, I have finally met some Norwegians. It’s only taken me five months, but I can affirmatively declare that friendly ones do exist.

….I am exaggerating of course, but there is a degree of truth to that statement. Norwegians are a very closed group of people. It is hard to become good friends with them, let alone even talk to them. If you see a Norwegian on the street, do not make eye contact. If there is an open seat on the metro or bus but there is already someone seating in the seat adjacent to it, do not sit in that chair—stand if you must. Do not ask strangers how they are, or even what time it is. The only exception to all of this is, of course, when they are drinking. Norwegians become unbelievably friendly and welcoming, but only after that second beer. Still, if you run into them the next day soberly, they will pretend they don’t even know who you are… (I am not being mean, ask any Norwegian and they will make jokes about how closed they are too).

So ya, I would honestly say that has been the hardest cultural shock that I have endured here in Oslo, especially because Americans are notoriously open and welcoming to everyone, even strangers. Plus, talking to strangers is quite possibly my favorite pass time so the Norwegian culture is extra obtuse to me.

However, a few weekends ago was an interesting change. First, on a Friday, I had curry night and watched game of thrones with the guys as usual, but then afterwards I went out with my friend Will and his Norwegian friends that he knows from university back at home. They were so fun and at the time, it was the most Norwegians I had ever spent time with since I’ve been here!

You see, most (if not all) of my friends here are international students. The University of Oslo has some 2,000 of us and they do a good job integrating us together as one community. While that is amazing, and I love everyone I have met, I truly did want to meet more Norwegians during my exchange. For that reason, I signed up rather abruptly to work at RF, the Math and Natural Sciences Faculty pub and café.

Yep, you read that right. The math faculty actually has their own bar in their building on campus. Surprisingly, all five faculties at the university have their own bars that are open during weekdays as a café, and on the weekends as a bar. They are run by the students of the faculty and are basically the cheapest places you can go for mediocre coffee and a variety of beer.

I just learned the other day that the Math pub (called RF-Kjelleren) was founded before there was even a math faculty—the math degree originally was housed under the philosophy department back in the day. It is a quirky place, quite fitting for math and science students. Their mascot is a bear called Major, and all throughout the pub there are drawings, even mosaics, of friendly bears. They even have a famous teddy bear that they bring out at all parties and events whose name is Minor. This cutie has a Facebook account where you can befriend him—check it out. The café/pub also has game nights, quiz nights, massive parties, intern parties, movie days—basically everything you could imagine. There are always people in there studying, chatting and drinking coffee (or beer). Reminds me of a fraternity almost, but actually not at all… I don’t know, it is more unique haha. Hard to put into words…

Anyways, at orientation in the first week of my semester, some Norwegians said that the best way to become friends with them is to join their clubs and sports—specifically these pubs. I thought it sounded great, but for some reason every time I walked through the doors of RF in the basement of the math building, I would get too intimidated to ask to join. Luckily, within the first few weeks my two German friends from my buddy group, Juli and Laura, forced me to go there and stayed by my side as I asked if they still needed interns. They call volunteers ‘interns’, which I first thought was some weird Norwegian-English translation mix up, but turns out the Norwegian word interne literally translates to ‘insider’—kinda cool that they call all of the volunteers “insiders”. I happened to talk to the head of the café, so when he asked if I wanted to work as a barista, I just said “sure!”, without much contemplation. I signed up for the weekly Monday shift from 2-4pm. As soon as I started, I quickly learned that my shift really goes from 2-5pm because as it is the closing shift, we have to clean up which takes time. This is especially true when no one is motivated to move quickly and efficiently.

Skipping forward, I did really enjoy my time working as a barista at RF. I missed having a regular job—something that I have had since I was sixteen years old, so it felt comfortable to have some sort of responsibility again. Additionally, the RF café is famous for their “baffles”. These are the wonderful Norwegian waffles that the students of RF adapted to call baffles because back when they first started, they added beer to the batter. You’d be glad to know that today’s recipe is remarkably lacking in beer, yet full of other yummy flavors, specifically heaps of cardamon. Furthermore, one baffle is only 10 kroner—approximately 1 USD—hence they are extremely popular. I got really good at making (and eating) these waffles every shift I had. Even the managers of each shift are called “Baffle-masters”.

Also, it was fun to start to see regulars in the café every Monday, and I got invited to several Facebook groups dedicated to rock climbers and hikers by this particularly friendly Norwegian who would spend a lot of time talking with me some days.

Surprisingly, I never made a latte myself until my very last shift. There were a few reasons why… First, I was terrified to fail. I had learned several times how to do it, yet I remained terrified that I would mess up someone’s drink! However, the main reason I made a latte for the first time at my last shift was because of my decision to attend the ‘thank you’ dinner on Sunday evening for all the café workers. It was there where, being the only non-Norwegian, that I had to push myself father outside my comfort zone than ever to talk to all these people I had never seen before.

The dinner started at 6pm and as usual, I showed up about 15 minutes late. I don’t have access to the building when it is locked on the weekend, so I didn’t know how to get in except post on the Facebook event how I was locked out and needed someone to come get me. Right after posting that is when this guy walks up. Turns out he was there for the dinner and I was relieved to not be alone.

After a few minutes we were let in and walked to the basement where the pub is located. The room was chalk full of people speaking loudly in Norwegian. I followed the guy I had just met to meet his friends. To my surprise, when they found out I was American and jeg snakker lit norsk (I speak a little Norwegian), they started to all speak in English for me and continued throughout the rest of the night.

A night that I originally thought would end in me leaving around 7:30-8:00pm, accumulated into a late-night evening in which I arrived home well past 1:30am. It was just so fun! Norwegian tacos were on the menu for the dinner, which is basically just a delicious burrito with meat, veggies, guacamole, and cheese. I made conversation with all those around me during the meal, as they realized I was the silly girl who posted on the event page. When we had all finished eating, everyone grabbed a pint of beer from behind the bar and just kept talking. I was enjoying myself so much that I did the same. We laughed, talked, played games, even had a limbo competition (No big deal, but I won). Me and my new friends were the last ones to leave, and I walked home with this blue-haired, spunky girl named Aurora chatting about everything under the sun.

Throughout the night, however, they found out that I had never made a latte, which they thought was absurd. This one guy named Anders, who was to be the “baffle-master” during my last shift the next day, promised me that he would force me to make one. Turns out you also get a free drink during your shift (which I never knew) so that way I could make one just for myself and be assured that I wouldn’t screw up someone else’s drink.

The very next day, when I showed up for my last shift ever, I got to making baffles as usual. We were running low, and they are the most popular item we sell besides regular coffee. Then Anders came over to me after a few minutes and simply said, “It’s time”. He first made one to show me again how it is done. Looked easy enough, I thought. Then it was my turn. Just a precursor, I have no clue what the correct terminology is for anything coffee related, so be prepared for me to call certain aspects of the process “things”. Anyhow, to start, I turned on the grinder just for a few seconds to get the right amount of expresso that I needed. I filled up the handle-thingy with the coffee and inserted it into the machine and pressed go. Following that, I got the milk out, poured just the right amount into a metal cup and then placed the foamy spout thing just below the surface. I turned it on and waited till it was hot enough. By that time the expresso was done. I took a clean glass, poured the expresso straight in, and then gently started pouring the milk and foam into the cup. Of course, I messed up a little and there was too much milk on the top, and certainly no fancy design was made in the process, but nonetheless, it was delicious. Ta-da! My very first latte! By the end of my shift, I had made several others for customers, including a mocha (I know, how fancy!).

 

It was remarkably sad when my last shift ended. But luckily it was a Monday, and at RF that means all the interns gather at night after closing to drink and hang out together. I always knew they all did it every Monday, but I had been too scared to show up to anything RF hosted because I didn’t know anyone and certainly didn’t want to go by myself—this was why even attending the dinner on Sunday was such a big deal, although I probably got over my fear only because free food was involved. Anyways, all the Norwegians I had met on Sunday’s dinner told me that I have to come hang out on Monday evening. I enjoyed spending time with them, and so, after my shift ended, I worked out, showered, and then took my dinner to-go in order to hang out at the pub.

When I showed up around 7:00pm, there were only about eight Norwegians sitting in several groups and they all kind of stared at me when I walked through the door. I didn’t know what to do, as I didn’t recognize any of them. I opted for sitting at a table by myself. I took out my computer so I would have something to do and I started to eat. I messaged my roommates in our group chat how I had freaking pushed myself to come here but now I was all alone and how I didn’t know what to do. I was especially asking them how long do they think I should stay there before I could leave without it being awkward. I wanted to leave immediately, but I couldn’t exactly come there, sit for five minutes, and then walk out. I had to wait out the uncomfortable awkwardness… Plus, my roommates all responded with “Stay strong, Shayna!” So there I sat.

As I am sitting there, this one guy kept staring at me. I was thinking maybe he thought I wasn’t actually an intern and that I didn’t belong there. I was tempted to scream over to him, “I’m an intern! I’m an intern!” I didn’t of course, and instead I tried to just focus on pretending to do work on my computer. However, after about five minutes, that guy just stood up and walked slightly closer to me, all awhile just blatantly staring at me. You could say I was more than taken aback, and more so freaked out. Norwegians never stare, this was so out of the ordinary…

As I was trying to pretend I didn’t notice him, the guy just kept staring. After a minute (the longest minute of my life), I turned and just said “What?” Then I thought maybe he was looking at all the stickers I have on my computer. I stupidly have some political crap on there so I have gotten used to strangers coming up to me to discuss certain topics. So thinking that was it, I then asked the guy “Sorry is it something about my computer stickers? Is that what you are looking at?” He simply responded, “No. I am just staring.”

With that, he came and joined me at my table. Conversation flowed so smoothly and I forgot how awkward I had felt walking in. His name was Olav–basically the most Norwegian name that exists. It even turned out that he thought I was weird for not sitting with them originally and for the rest of the night kept making fun of me for having sat by myself. Soon after we got to talking, my new Norwegian friends that I had met on Sunday showed up and joined us at my table. It ended up being such a good night, and since then I have gone every Monday night to hang out with them.

I guess what this has taught me, is that showing up places by yourself and truly pushing yourself outside your comfort zone is the way you met amazing people that you otherwise wouldn’t have. If I hadn’t pushed through how uncomfortable I was to sign up to volunteer as a barista, I would have never made a baffle. If I hadn’t forced myself to attend the thank you dinner alone because I wanted the free food, I would never have made my first latte. If I hadn’t stayed strong at that table sitting alone, I would never have made the fun experiences I have had with some incredibly funny, non-politically correct Norwegians. The whole experience has made me feel more independent than ever, which is an extremely empowering feeling. I hope I can continue pushing myself in this manner for the rest of my life, because I never know who I might meet. My advice to anyone would be to do the same.

Any who, thanks again lola blog for letting me account my life through writing. As always, until next time…

(p.s., I am extremely behind on blogging about my travels, so stay tuned for when I find the time and motivation to sit down and document!)

Simply put, I love my roommates. Like, wow—I really love them. There are six of us total, and we had one Norwegian roommate who was a ghost before she moved out and another amazing Norwegian moved in. For clarities sake, the following are my roommates’ names and home countries:

Cami (Argentina)

Juli (Germany)

Frida (Norway)

Shannon (Ireland)

Frances (Canada)

 

Obviously, I am the only American which has been an eye-opening experience for me to live with people so vastly different than me, while simultaneously learning just how well we can mesh together as one unit despite those differences. I firmly believe, through my own experience, that one of the best advantages to directly enrolling for an exchange semester is getting to live with people who are not American.

Furthermore, there is so much my roommates have done for me and vice versa, I wouldn’t even begin to describe how grateful I am for them in one blog post, or even one full length conversation. However, I am writing this today (with Shannon and Frances sitting beside me watching the sun set over the buildings of Sogn) because things are about to change after so many months. Frances is about to leave on Wednesday back for Canada; a least a month earlier than the average international student. (I still have two whole months left—the same amount of time I spent in Iceland last summer to put things in perspective).

Thus, I am dedicating this blog to my last few days with Shannon and Frances and our friendship that grew one silly night when Shannon drunkenly offered to make us food, starting a friendship I could have never imagined would flourish in the way that it did.

It all began towards the beginning of the semester. Cami definitely was the roommate I was closest with at the start. We traveled to Kraków together and had the same mutual friends. When she left for 10 days to go traveling, it was slightly tough for me. She was my only girlfriend in Oslo at the time because the rest of my friends are all guys; guys that I love, but it was nice to not always be the only girl and to have someone to have meaningful, engaged conversations with when I came home.

Then one night Shannon had a lot of her friends over to make and enjoy sangria. Me and Frances were soberly enjoying talking to them as they got louder and funnier the more they drank. It began almost as a bonding moment for Frances and I, just before Shannon came over. She put her arms around us, and I can literally picture her face and voice as she said in her roaring Irish accent, “I am going to make you guys food sometime!” Those words were all we needed. Over dinner just a few days later our real friendship began.

Because I can’t even put to words everything that has happened in the period between the start and end, I am going to fast forward to few days before Frances left. So bear with me, it will most likely be a little long because there is so much to say. But here’s to my last few days with such an amazing person, and to the life long memories that took place.

Friday, April 21^st

All throughout the semester, we had always thrown parties at our apartment so we decided to dedicate Friday night’s gathering to Frances and her departure from Norge on April 26^th. It was a really fun night, spent with good friends and mostly with each other.

Frances, very much in character, came home from a friend’s place and went to bed without even telling anyone that she had arrived. Luckily, she felt bad doing that at a party dedicated to her and she eventually came out to enjoy a fun evening. We even had a record timing for getting everyone to leave which was nice because it is always Shannon and I who stay up until everyone is gone. Shannon had to eat, and I started washing the mound of glasses while she enjoyed her meal at 3:30 in the morning—it was deemed a successful night that celebrated Frances’ exchange semester.

Saturday, April 22^nd

That morning, we somehow were all up and ready around the same time for once—usually it takes several hours to finally gather in the kitchen for tea and chatting. Frances, the early-bird that she is, had already gone out and bought Shannon and I a lovely pastry with a note reading, “This breakfast is sweet, but not as sweet as you”. We sat there drinking tea, enjoying both the treat and each other’s company. Frances decided that because my lucky number is 14 and Shannon’s is 6, that in 10 years (the number in the middle of the two) we must all come back to Norway together. We loved the notion and all set reminders on our phones for April 22, 2027.

Soon after we decided that, about 6 other people came and we all had brunch in our kitchen. It took a while to cook and prepare everything, but it was the most proper brunch I’ve ever prepared with a group of people outside my family.

Everyone didn’t leave until around 4pm in the afternoon from brunch and then the three of us went for a walk to Sognsvann, the lake that is about a 15-minute walk from our apartment complex. It was a beautifully sunny day, with crisp air that required a warm sweater but not anything heavier. The lake was gorgeous–it was the first time I had finally seen the water completely unfrozen. While sitting on a rock next to the simmering waters, an idea came to us from out of nowhere.

“Let’s get a tattoo together.”

It was no one person’s idea, but it was certainly more of their idea than mine; I was just enthusiastically encouraging the notion. In the period of about an hour, we had an appointment booked for Monday and everything was set to go. By some miracle, we all easily agreed on the same tattoo—something I never thought would happen or would want to happen.

After that, we proceeded to spend the rest of the night sitting together, journaling and talking, remembering the amazing times we have had together and our first impressions of each other at the beginning. It’s funny, Frances told me that she didn’t think we’d get along at first because I talked about the environment too much (lols).

Sunday, April 23^rd

Now it is Sunday, the day before we got our permanent “good-bad decision” as it was soon to be denoted. We woke up super early and took part in Oslo’s “Be a tourist in your own city day” which meant all the museums were free to the public. We went to 7 different museums all over the city over the course of the day. It was such a fun, tiring day, and if you ever want to check out an extremely strange artist, hit up Robert Gober and you won’t be disappointed. Also, if you are ever in Oslo, you gotta check out the Fram museum. It is so unique and you get to explore a massive ship that is modeled after one that traveled to the North Pole for scientific expeditions.

That night we had family dinner. It was the first time all 6 of us had dinner together. Frances, Shannon, and I cooked and the other girls cleaned up afterwards. It kept feeling more and more surreal that Frances was soon to leave us….

Monday April 24^th

Finally, Monday came. I awoke to Olso’s first snow storm in a while. Of course, after having warm weather for so long, the one day the three of us planned to spend the day outside hiking and exploring it had to be snowing. It wasn’t even regular snow though. It was the stereotypical spring snow—ya know, the extremely wet kind that soaks you just as much as if it had been raining.

I had my math class until 12 and the plan was to go meet the girls at the National Theater stop in the sentrum around 12:10. I went to class, kind of in denial that in just a few hours I would not only have something permanent on my body, but a matching tattoo at that. I don’t think I fully comprehended what I was about to do…

It figures I showed up late to meet the other two because, well, I had to get coffee before I departed the Blindern campus. They told me when I finally arrived that they wouldn’t have been surprised if I had backed out without saying anything (which I would not have done, FYI!).

We set off walking to find the tattoo parlor. Get this, it is called “Old Bastards Tattoo Oslo”—very fitting for a couple of 21-year old women, am I right? Not surprisingly we couldn’t find the place and Frances entered a near-by shop to ask for help. The place was a religious pilgrimage office, run by a cute elderly woman who was kind enough to help us find where to look. Shannon told the woman that only Frances wanted a tattoo (don’t ask me why), and the woman replied with “You’re crazy”! We couldn’t stop laughing as we left the store to keep looking for the shop.

Once outside again, I noticed the place was just around the corner and we all laughed once again at how stupid we were to have not noticed it sooner. Upon entering, the tattoo shop was just one big open room that was decorated tastefully—the opposite of uninviting. There was only one man working named Thomas. He had already printed out our designs on separate pieces of paper and I was taken aback with how fast Shannon sat down and began to have something so permanent placed on her arm.

Frances was to go second, and I last because this was my first tattoo ever and I was timid. Nervously, I started eating the celery and carrots I had packed as a snack. Thomas laughed at me because they had told him this would be my first tattoo and here I was, shaking and eating vegetables just before him. I still hadn’t decided on a placement and it was beginning to dawn on me what I was about to do. Moment before I got mine done, I decided on a spot only to have Thomas tell me that it was one of the most painful places to get a tattoo. That scared me at first, but then I remained calm knowing I am good at handling pain because of all the times I have accidently gotten injured.

As I sat in the chair, I suddenly got nervous because all at once this decision became real. All I can say is it wasn’t bad at all, even tickled at times. We paid and left, and I remained in shock, unable to grasp what just happened.

While walking back, I can’t even tell you what we talked about because I don’t think I could comprehend anything in the moment. But I do remember Frances saying how we were Charlies Angels because there are not only three of us, but also two white girls and one Asian. So, that’s us; Charlies Angels with matching tats. (Although it is important to note both Shannon and I have not seen the movie, so we don’t quite understand the reference).

We spent the rest of the day together in our lovely kitchen drinking tea, watching a movie (Wild Child because Frances hadn’t seen it), chatting about our futures to the tune of The Lumineers, and watching the snow fall from our porch. It was a melancholy day, and we could all feel it, but it was still beautifully peaceful.

Frances still amazes me sometimes at how well she understands certain aspects of me and she demonstrated that once again during our conversations about where we saw ourselves ending up. I said how I thought I could end up in a small town of only a few thousand people, where I could farm, ride my bike everywhere, and hike in any direction. She pointed out she couldn’t see me living in a small town for too long because I am a person who is constantly growing and feeding off the environment and people around me. Eventually I would need something “more”, whatever that meant for me. Damn girlie, way to hit the nail on the head before I even could.

We also spent a lot of time together in silence—something that Frances has pointed out not only on that day but previously to me as well. To be silent with someone (or two people, in this case) and not feel uncomfortable, but rather the opposite, is something rarely found in interactions. It is special that we can naturally be silent together, as Frances noted before Shannon made a joke how us talking broke the silence.

Our plan is to not tell anyone about our tattoo decision unless they notice it for themselves. In fact, I am really only writing this blog for myself to remember these events someday way in the future, not necessarily to declare to the world what we did.

As we sat in the kitchen all day, of course our roommates noticed. When we told Cami, she said “Oh wow, that’s cool”, just before skirting off to catch the bus. When we told Juli, she said “I love it! But you shouldn’t get in trouble with each other because now you’re bonded”. Shannon joked maybe we shouldn’t have gotten something so permanent… lol. When Frida noticed, she made the connection to our “art session” that she saw on Saturday and started laughing. Now it made sense to her why we had drawn so many mountains over and over on our notebooks…

To be one-hundred percent honest, we are freaking crazy—I recognize that. But somehow it fits our personalities with each other in a unique way. Most people would never have done what we did for fear of others judging them, or in case the friendship fell through sometime in the future. I believe us three, however, are extremely strong minded individuals who must not care what others think—and this is symbolic of that. I think all of us wanted to do something a little crazy, and so we just did it, without much forethought or contemplation.

The fact that we have matching tattoos does not signify that our friendship is the best one we have or will ever have in our entire lives. Instead, it hints at our special semester spent together here—both here in this apartment (Sogn Building 46, floor 3—forever in my memory), and here in beautiful Norway as exchange students.

Shannon is the most carefree about tattoos and this kind of stuff, so she seemed very calm the entire time and was just excited to do it for her own reasons. Frances, on the other hand, could be thought of as rather up-tight when you first meet her. However, I think that description falls through once you get to know her. I have noticed that she has become more relaxed this semester, perhaps the most relaxed she has ever been. Thus, to me it makes sense that she did something so “crazy” without any regret.

For me, just as the hot dogs were symbolic of me not knowing who I am anymore, this tattoo is a more permanent representation of that same feeling. I would never in a million years have thought I would ever do something like this—it isn’t (maybe now I should say, wasn’t) me. Nevertheless, unlike how upset I was at the beginning of the semester when I felt like I had lost myself, I am now rather at peace with the fact that I have no idea who I am in many ways. It is kind of beautiful, actually. As Frances pointed out, I am constantly changing and growing, and I love that about myself. It is rather exciting to not even know what I am about to do, or how I might surprise myself next.

As Frances said, even if the tattoo means nothing to us in the future, it did mean something in the moment, and that’s what counts. We finished off the day with journaling together in silence, and a short venture into the snow where I tried to get both of them to catch snowflakes in their mouths (I failed because Frances wouldn’t do it). But in regards to journaling, it was only Frances and I who were journaling and well, Shannon…. Well, she was on Facebook when she should have been working on her take home exam! Very typical of her, in the funniest way.

All in all, it was an extremely average, yet special day that I hope I will never forget. If I start to, I guess I will not only read this, but just glance down at my arm for a quick reminder.

Tuesday, April 25^th

Frances, given that see was leaving, had a lot to do on Tuesday and thus was not around for much of the day. I had my math class and then just did some errands because my friend Hope was coming in from Ireland to visit me for the next few days.

Despite being so busy, we did have dinner again together. Shannon’s famous pasta was the dish and we all ate a ridiculous amount of it. It was hard for me to watch how quiet Frances was during dinner. I could tell she was somber but trying to hide it…

It is extremely difficult making such good friends when you are abroad and then just leaving, never knowing if you will ever see them again. It happened to me when I went to Iceland, and I know its going to be even worse this time around when I leave Norway because I’ve been here three times longer.

For Frances, she tried really hard at times to keep a distance to make leaving easier. For example, she would always try to stop herself from calling Oslo her home, because in her words, “It isn’t home” and she just can’t think like that. But I could tell, despite her best efforts, it had become home to her just as it has become my home as well. Goodbyes are never easy, but that doesn’t mean you should try to diminish your experience with those around you in the moment to make it simpler to leave….

My friend Hope and I joined Frances and Shannon for a quick trip into the sentrum to get falafel (even though we had just ate heaps of pasta). Only Shannon and Frances got more food, but I wanted to go to just be with them still and that way Hope would get to see some of the city on her first day in Oslo.

When we returned home from Gaza Kjøken (the 50 kroner falafel place), Hope and I left immediately to my friends place because it was one of the guys 21^st birthdays. I felt weird leaving Frances knowing the next day would be her last…

Wednesday April 26^th

This was the final day. I couldn’t stay home to see Frances off because Hope was only here for a few days and I had to show her my favorite parts of Oslo. Also because of her, I couldn’t really get too emotional when saying goodbye to Frances. Around midday, she walked Hope and I to our door as we were leaving and we exchanged two hugs and a quick goodbye. It didn’t feel real saying bye. It just felt normal, almost as though she was just traveling for a bit and then coming back. Hope and I left for an adventurous day, and my last words to her were “See ya later”…

I can’t stress enough the strange dichotomy that April 26^th was for me. Having Hope with me was amazing, no doubt, and I had one of the top 5 best days of my semester that Wednesday (Ekebergparken is my favorite place in all of Oslo now). However, such an amazing day was juxtaposed to my roommate and friend leaving the country. I was grateful Hope was visiting me, but it didn’t allow me to process what had occurred. I had just said goodbye to someone I honestly might not see again (although that better not the case).

Overall, after this long and extensive blog post that was rather personal, my main message is just about how difficult saying goodbye is when you are on exchange. You can’t really understand the feeling until you experience it yourself, I think. Even though I still have about two months, being forced to say goodbye to those around me is akin to parting with my life here in Oslo up until now. Although I am still here, my experience has now evolved with Frances gone and will continue to evolve and feel different with each friend who leaves. It’s tough and honestly, I haven’t fully processed the events of this past week. But at the end of the day, I would never have done it differently. I am glad I got close to those around me here, even if that makes the end that much harder.

Here’s to my lovely friend and roommate, Frances. May she have safe travels back to Canada and a strong final year in university.

Until next time, lola blog…

Prague, Czech Republic – March 11-12, 2017

I have become accustomed to calling Oslo, “My Frosted City” for reasons I will explain at a different time. Hence, while traveling in Praha, I couldn’t help but develop a name for that city as well. The city is remarkably dense, and the staggering architecture is generally painted lovely pastel shades of pink, blue, yellow, etc. Thus, it seemed fitting to call Praha “My Dense, Pastel City”.

I was blessed enough to have a friend studying in Prague who let me crash with him for free. Ben was originally going to try to come to Oslo along with me through USAC but instead he chose the USAC program in Prague. Throughout my time in Praha, I found it interesting to juxtapose his experience with a different USAC program to my experience here in Oslo.

Here in Oslo, USAC is the definition of hands off. I don’t consider myself a USAC student, but rather a student at Universitet i Oslo for several reasons. I am mostly friends with the numerous other international students, the Americans I am friends with are numbered, especially those I know through USAC. Furthermore, my 5 roommates are all non-American, and it is quite common for me to be the only native English speaker in the room at most times. I even had to request for my classes to be taught in English, for example, because everyone in my math class at least was Norwegian, apart from me and two German friends of mine from my buddy group. Although USAC doesn’t do anything with us, the University of Oslo truly does an impeccable job orienting the 2,000 some international exchange students. Thus, I am extremely well adjusted and couldn’t be happier with how things have turned out.

Ben’s experience is quite the opposite. He is always with the 80 USAC participants in his program. He lives with them, only takes classes with them, parties with them, and travels with them. USAC even treats them to various excursions quite frequently. I am not saying my experience is better than his, or vice versa. I was just intrigued at the vast difference between our two exchanges. For me personally, it validated that I chose the right program for me (I utterly love Oslo and Norge as a whole).

Moving past that, I loved the trip. Ben was a great tour guide and I was able to see basically the entire city while I was there. In order to save money, we did not purchase transit tickets, and instead walked everywhere. We averaged about 15 miles a day, which I loved because I love exceedingly long walks.

Ben not only picked me up at the airport but also dropped me off, even though it is easily an hour’s trip from his apartment. The public transit can just be very confusing and the language is extraordinarily difficult, so he wanted to make sure I wouldn’t get lost.

While on the train back to his apartment, we tried to start catching up for we hadn’t seen each other since the fall semester back at Loyola. Unfortunately the trains in Praha are unbelievably loud that we practically had to scream to hear one another.

Everything in Prague is just so old—Ben’s apartment building included. Even the key to his room is ancient looking. It is all so different to me. I was blown away at how lovely a street he lives on, and especially how huge his apartment and subsequent room is. I live in a small apartment in Oslo with 5 other people, where my room is maybe the size of his bathroom!

Everywhere I went, I was blown away at the buildings, what with their age and history. America just doesn’t have stuff like that, we are too young. We walked around Old Town Square, which was filled with history and people, followed by the famous Charles Bridge. I loved being on there, taking in the beautiful cityscape and the enormous statues. Ben made sure to show me his favorite statue at the very end of the bridge, before taking me to what he called ‘a special surprise’. I asked where he was taking me and he just asked if I liked the Beatles. I answered “Of course!”, but still he didn’t reveal where we were going until we had reached our destination.

The Lennon Wall is precisely everything that I love—rebellion plus art plus creativity. We stood there for ages, picking out new bits and pieces the more we looked at it.

As we kept walking and exploring, we would come across the funniest statues and the nicest walking paths. I got the sense that Prague has a unique sense of character compared to other cities. I also learned from my Czech friends back in Oslo that the reason the city wasn’t destroyed during the war like many other places was because Hitler had fallen in love with it and wanted to preserve it. I can see why someone would fall in love with the city, it is quite impeccable.

The second day Ben also took me to some fascinating parts of the city. We found this strange park that jutted out on a tall wall, with winding stairs to get down to the ground. Then we walked through another park, which the only way I can describe it is magical. The sense I got while wandering through there truly was fairytale like—I don’t know any other words to use for it.

Following that we entered the old grave yard of the city, Vyšehrad Cemetery. There’s something about walking through graveyards that I enjoy—not so much in a morbid way or anything but for reasons I can’t exactly put into words. I guess I just like to think about all the lives that had been lived with each gravestone. Moreover, every country (every city, even) has their own twist on how they built and manage their cemeteries. This one was filled was greenery and trees everywhere. It was delicate and inviting in a strange way.

Lastly, we crossed a different, but also beautiful bridge to hike up to the Metronome. There were stairs leading up to it and once up their there were lots of people laughing with their friends, drinking beers in the sun. In addition there was a skate park where we watched various people try to improve their best tricks. It was a nice spot, and I told Ben he has to come back he with his friends at sunset with a few beers before his semester is over (he finishes school a lot earlier than I do).

The food was also so cheap, which was a nice break from Norway, where I haven’t eaten out once because the prices here are exorbitant. I really loved this particular café we went to called Standard Cafe. The art on the walls was a collection of photographs, probably about 8 frames in total. Each picture had a pair of two photographs highlighting a single person among a crowd. The people were all looking up at something with looks of amazement and awe. The lead people sometimes had phones in their hands to capture whatever they were looking at, while others simple stood there in the picture with their jaws hanging down. Their facial expressions were radical and quite humorous. Seriously, this installation was just so dope! It makes you wonder what the heck all these people were looking at, and it made me want to meet the artist…

As for the night life, Prague is so diverse. On the first night, we bar hopped a lot (5 to be precise). The goal was just to get a sense of the diversity within all the various bars and clubs. Almost any scene you could possible want, you can find in Prague.

I especially enjoyed my second night out because I was able to meet and converse with some of the coolest strangers. First, we went to a bar that was literally in an old, World War II bunker, which was fascinating, followed by this club which is where I met those groovy people. There were 2 different bachelor parties going on at the club, so the place was primarily filled with men. The first group was huge and all the guys had on the same matching shirt. The groom was wearing a veil and they were hilarious to watch dance. The second bachelor party was one that I conversed with for quite a while. They were all from Ireland, and the groom was wearing a long, red wig and a dress. They were the funniest people; I kid you not. One of my roommates, Shannon, is Irish and so I bonded with them over talking about where she is from and such. I’ve learned over the semester that people from Dublin (where these men were from) have a sort of rivalry with people from Cork (where Shannon is from). It is a running joke that they hate one another. I got a video for her of all of them saying her name, and making jokes about Cork and Dublin. Then they proceeded to teach me how to do some Irish dance. It was just fun to meet such friendly, welcoming people.

Following that, I came across a group of eight guys speaking English and turns out two of them were studying in Prague with Ben, but the others were students studying in Barcelona and Italy. A few of them were Jewish (one had the same last name as me) so it was extremely awesome to connect with other Jews after so many months. I am not kidding, I am pretty sure I am the only Jew in all of Norway. That is not necessary a big drawback, but I certainly miss being able to connect with people that share the same values and background as me.

Overall, I am so glad I had the opportunity to come stay with Ben in Praha. The city is gorgeous and while I left reeking of cigarettes (EVERYONE smokes there), it was a successfully fun weekend that I would do again in a heartbeat. S/O to Ben, once again, thanks for letting me crash with you for the weekend!