You can get with this... or you can get with that

Norway isn't Sweden.

Norway, also, isn't America.


I don't know if I've made that fact clear over the eight or so months of this blog (save the summer vacation break).

The two countries are different, not radically different (yeah, the whole "different language" thing jumps out at you...), but different (but, Norway and America are WAY similar than Belgium and the good ol' USA).

It's not a bad thing (something I had to remind myself early on...), but it can lead to a lot of "Wait.  What?" moments.


For Example:

Numerous items in supermarkets are sold based on weight (i.e. Carrots cost 51 kroner a kilogram), not that much different than in the states (well, carrots wouldn't run like $4 a pound unless you were in Alaska, but I digress).  However, in Norwegian supermarkets, there are no scales to ascertain how much one has procured of said product.  I didn't realize this the first time I went to a Norwegian supermarket and proceeded to walk around the store for like twenty minutes searching for a scale.  I ended up almost sending six apples through the bread slicer (if you're scoring at home, yes... there's a fancy, bread slicer, but no scale).  It wasn't like I wanted to only buy 60 kroner worth of apples, I was curious how many grams equaled six apples (approx. 720 grams).  A buddy of mine just chalked it up to the "Norwegian way", but I have definitely seen people sneaking scales into the supermarket.

Whatever.  I've adapted by guessing the weight and, when I'm right, I break out the Anne Hathaway...

Fine, something non-food related...

Alcohol cost more in Norway.

Though, its not to say that all the differences are bad or annoying.

Here is an Oslo, city bus

It is cleaner and runs on a vastly more efficient system than virtually every major city bus I've rode in the states (NYC, Baltimore, DC, San Diego, Chicago, Philadelphia).  A lot of the bus lines (particularly the one I frequently ride) run 24-hours a day.

Additionally, there is a flat rate for Bus, Subway, and Light Rail (all vastly cleaner and efficient) so there's no figuring out if you have enough on your travel card (I think NYC is also the same and I know the bus and subway in Baltimore are the same, but who takes those?).

Anyway, the longer I live here, the more I appreciate what makes Norway unique and cool (speaking of cool, it snowed twice in the past week... Fall doesn't linger here).  It's a special place with a lot of interesting food and culture.  Writing this blog has been my way to share with you all how fortunate I feel to be having this experience...

Instead of sharing more sweet and corny sentiments, I'm just going to post another funny, norway related .gif

ALT FOR NORGE

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Russ...

Attention American, High School Seniors (and those that were high school seniors at one point, even if it was way back in '99), congratulations on graduating!  However, as you embark on Senior Week, know that while you might think your week-long, dalliance at the beach or having crazy house parties with Matt Damon are the ultimate, you're mistaken.

Norwegians go harder than you... Yeah?  Oh Yeah...

It all starts with the magical time of Russ.

I don't even think this needs a caption...

The Basics.
The period of celebration for graduating Norwegians is referred to as Russefeiring and those that participate in it are Russ (not to be confused with Rus, which means intoxication from drugs...).  The word Russ derives from the latin cornua depositurus, which means "bound to put aside one's horns" and is synonymous with many Scandinavian University Acceptance ceremonies (sinister legend suggests that during the time of "union" with Denmark, when Norwegian students attended The University of Copenhagen, snarky Danish students made them wear horns to denote their more "rural roots".  The Danes are mean).  Either way, there have been Russ, in some form or another, for a couple hundred years.


That sounds kinda gangster, but how can that compete with beer bonging and party hopping on the beach?


For starters, the period last longer than a week as it stretches from May 1 (May Day) to the National Constitution Day on the 17th.  Secondly, since the school structure is different here (Norwegian "middle school" is four years long), most Seniors are 19 when they graduate or, if they're precocious or born in the back half of the year, 18.  The drinking age in Norway is 18 (for beer and wine, 20 for hard liquor... but whoever waits?).  No fake I.D. needed.   


But they don't even have beer pong, how much fun can it even be?


It looks like a blast.  For starters, the whole "rural roots" thing gains traction here.  The customary clothing are overalls (yes, everyone and yes, they wear them for the duration of the 17 day period... it's frowned upon to wash them... in fact, if you get caught, they make you caught off a leg of the overalls), for everyone.  Boys and Girls.  They also have different colors depending on the course of study going forward.  Blue are for the Business kids, Black for Engineers, Green for Agriculture (the most rare of the Russ), and, for everyone else, Red.  Additionally, to discourage drunk driving, its customary for Russ to pay for transportation.  Not just any kind of transportation, but a tricked out bus.  You think your prom limo was fly, these busses can cost upwards of a quarter million US Dollars (think part RV, part tour bus).  

Where does the money come from?  You get sponsors, of course!

LEGO man gotta beer!

Or, your parents are just Oslo Ballerz and you and your friends just pool your allowances for it.

Either way, kids race around after school (that's right, these kids party and bomb out of their mind WHILE SCHOOL IS STILL GOING ON... they haven't even graduated yet.  They still have to take exams, which is in mid-June) going from party to party (The first weekend in May, there's a huge party in Stavanger) or creating their own.

Ringnes and Hansa for all

There are actually prizes for having the best bus.  The whole thing isn't a complete loss because most Russ recoup a sizable portion of their investment by reselling the bus the following year to the next set of Russ.

Aww, crap... I give up.  Are there anything else that they do that should make me hate my life or try to pose as an exchange student?

Instead of getting those wallet-size graduation pictures to hand out (There's a drawer at my parent's house that contains about a dozen of them along with my junior prom pictures... poor investment), Russ have mock business cards that they hand out to anyone that, if you clink the link you will see, contain a picture and a whole bunch of zany tidbits.  I think when I found out about this, I spent a few days trying to figure out what my cards would say.

So yeah... I won't say this often, but Norway wins.  Hands Down.

"Like" the OSLOst in Space on Facebook (Facebook.com/oslost)

Alt for Norge

Birkelunden Bemusing

The searing, blue sky in the middle of the afternoon is one of the simplest pleasures one can get out of life.  Especially after an endless parade of overcast mornings drifting into disheartening, starless nights.  The first clear day, in some time, can catch you off guard, as it explodes from the dawn.  Nothing is quite as beautiful as the warmth of the first sunrays, as they lick your face.  Those drops of cancer-causing agents invoke an effervescent buzz in our souls that resonates regardless of how tight the crotchety, dry grip of old man winter. 

I am happy today.

Much as the reminder from the sun can remind you that three other seasons can exist, so, too, can a letter from an old friend. 

He seemed well.

The children are getting out of school now.  I can hear their delirious screams echoing down the narrow streets and corridors.  It’s as if they want to see if their voices can reach over the entrapping buildings that line the streets.  Their day is now and, by letting all of creation know, it can be shared and maintained.  The tram rattles along its metallic path; creaking and screeching at each turn and stop.  I can feel it nearing the station without seeing it from my window here; its heavy pressing crushes everything that can feel.  As if on cue, I can hear the trees shaking and swaying in the oncoming rush.  

I close my eyes and lean into the sun’s dalliance into the room, courtesy the parted blinds. 

I feel light on my face, but not warmth, the window sees to it that what is outside is kept out.  Yet, I hear the ratcheting of the tram doors and then the clanging crash of their closing. 

There are still many hours before my love will return home.  I don’t know if I should count their fickle, wanton minutes or lay my mind to other tasks to drown out the late afternoon.  Though, the sun is so bright today, I have to squint to even look toward the window.  Some days cannot be ignored or attended with mindless duty.  They must be lived and filled with purpose and balance.

I am outside now.

The wind still has a touch of winter and I need to pull my jacket tightly around me.  The stealthy, ever-present ice has begun to relinquish its domain upon the sidewalks; its crackling retreat feels my ears as I make way toward the bridge.  Beneath the cement expanse, the river has not yet heeded the call of the walkways above as it lays frozen and unmoving.  The ducks clatter upon its stately cold surface, bumping into each other, stamping their webbed feet in futile protest.  The buildings, nestled along its width, splinter, ever so slightly, from the relentless pressure.  No matter the season, the river exerts its’ force upon the edifices foolishly constructed upon nature’s runway in garish and avarice want. 

I head back inside.

The lush, brilliant blue chosen for this day for this world that hangs above our world is slowly being put away.  The fiery, cataclysm of dusk has commenced as if the world were awaiting it.  We were all caught off-guard and not quite ready to be without.  Though, time and fate have plans we know not of.  Birds flew overhead, a great distance away, their calls lost to the heavens.  Cars, buses, trains, and trams all began their sojourn from the city to the great many suburbs that surrounded this town so that its numbers almost out counted the town from which it derived.  They pulsed and pushed away, far beyond that which I could see from my window.  For I could only sense their treks from known routine, the sounds and sights were already being swallowed by the approaching night.

the early morning hustle

So... I thought I'd write about once a week, sharing all the witty things in my head analyzing the world I now live in.

Though, the one thing I've come to realize is that, like life anywhere, once you get in a routine, its hard to recognize what is noteworthy from just happenstance.  Plus, how interesting would it be to read about me waking up, eating breakfast, and trying to get to class through all the snow?

That being said, I was just going to write about not watching the Super Bowl.  Until a girl passed out on my morning tram ride.

While I don't know what happened to her (she seriously just fell) and would never make light of the situation (while she seemed to be ok when the EMTs took her away, people have died from less), it was interesting to note the radical differences in "reactions" from the passer-bys.

(You would not believe how easy it is to get distracted, I was trying to find a picture of people responding crazy to someone falling down and I ended up here... good song *NSFW*, but weird way to find it)

When the girl first fell/fainted/lost consciousness, there was a visible response of at least a few people issuing "hey, she's not moving and she should be moving and not standing and that would be a very advisable thing to do at this juncture of time and place" concern, followed by a quick response of kneeling to help the person in distress.

This is in complete contrast, generally speaking, to how it would've been perceived back home (we have more of a "laugh and point and film" approach to people in distress... no, seriously *NSFW*).  I probably shouldn't judge because I laugh at silly things.

Though, it was nice to see that the Norwegian spirit of helping their fellow man isn't just reserved to paying a lot in taxes, but actually doing something on a personal level... (I know, right?!?).  Though, on the flip side, two several stops from the fainting location, was a scheduled stop at a hospital (like, the hospital was about 70 40 meters, 225 135 feet, from the tram doors).  It doesn't take a master detective to figure out what might've been a better solution to the situation.  Sure, that may not have been a viable solution (who would stabilize the prone person for the herky jerky ride?  who would prevent passengers from accidentally stepping on the person? etc.), but all I know is that my morning was delayed for forty twenty minutes (did I mention the close proximity of the hospital?  It was roughly a mile, 1.3 km, away... slightly more reassuring than this) due to the whole incident.

Just saying, Oslo... let's try to be problem solvers here...

Rap lyric I'd incorporate into a song if I were a rapper:
Never tested, competition softer than Jergen/We in the clubs makin' it rain like Stavanger or Bergen

I like new friends!

So... Thanks for reading the blog! ("welcome back!!" to those that are in the 55 strong, "what took so long?" if this is your first journey).

Since my initial post, I've been flooded with questions.  Though, I guess, the biggest question is what my day-to-day life is like.

I'm not going to lie, I definitely thought I'd stick out on my daily life here, but Oslo has proven to be diverse, and not in the way I originally thought.  So... does that mean its a utopia?  Not quite.  In fact, oddly, it has almost as confusing a grasp on the race relation puzzle as America.  Though, for radically different reasons.

Clearly, America has the whole "260 years of enslavement and another 100 years of second class citizenry of blacks, plus the genocide of an indigenous people, plus the accepted racism against various immigrants" going for it.  Norway, on the other hand, has an extremely apologetic population trying to accommodate people they never really wronged (I suppose one could say the same for most present day white's in America, though, the difference being that present day whites in America, to varying degree, have benefited from the past.  Norway never had a past to benefit from or make amends about).

All pretty confusing, right?

Anyway, like with most european countries, the general population is welcoming, especially towards Americans.  Though, a willingness to try to assimilate is always welcomed and, generally, the only hand wringing I've seen have been in relation to the more extreme forms of Islam.  Though, that's more of a western world, as a whole, problem.  Additionally, Norwegian culture is quite distrusting of strangers, except when they get drunk.

That being said... I'm meeting a lot of new people and having fun over here (I'd say that 2 out of 10 people smile and nod at me, that number jumps to 8-9 when they hear me speaking english... they'll either tell me about some thrilling, American vacation or some insight they have in to American politics.)

All in all, things are good... (as opposed to being bad... meaning bad, not bad meaning good)

Rap lyric I'd incorporate into a song if I were a rapper:
Beer cost almost ten bucks a piece, I still spill more/ Spring must be coming, Sun don't set until four!