Hei fra Norge! As I sit in my new flat in Oslo for the first evening in a week, I feel that I can finally reflect upon the past few marvellously chaotic weeks in the Norwegian capital.
This past week is known here as fadderuka (a norwegianised freshers week) and has been packed with opening ceremonies, slightly awkward ‘buddy’ events and numerous long nights spent in the student union buildings. I have met people from both Norway and beyond, and have developed a circle of friends with whom I have met most days and evenings for coffee on campus, long nights in strange basement Oslo hip hop clubs, and trips to Oslo’s outer islands including freezing cold swims in the fjord (I have even been stung by a Norwegian jellyfish, which was far from a pleasant experience but allowed me to extend my vocabulary further: I now know not only the word for the creature and it’s horrible attack on me, but also a range of useful curse words that described perfectly how I felt at the time.) When out in the evening with friends, our language of conversation changes constantly in order to accommodate everyone (Norwegians, Scottish, American, French, etc) and I am relieved to notice my skills are, without a doubt, improving.
My room is situated in a student village around 15 minutes away from the centre of the city, and despite bearing a slight resemblance to Sighthill on its greyer days, is actually a fairly pleasant place to be. My flat resides in a nicer area of the place, and we are blessed to have an on campus supermarket, post office and gym (though I predict that my visits there will be few and far between, shame on me.) Although the garish pink bathroom tiles and shower curtain leave a lot to be desired (not to mention the mess left by my male flatmate before he departed for Africa for a massive length of time, judging by the build up of scum in my bathroom), my bedroom itself is a clean, empty space of around 12 feet by 8. I have visited the local IKEA, bought every item I possibly needed, explored the city a little further, met a few of my flatmates (none of who are Norwegian, which frightens me a little when I consider that I have just this one year in which to markedly improve my language skills, and all of whom are considerably older than me, hitting thirty years old) and rarely been home throughout all of this week. The only downside of living here so far appears to be the frequent fire alarm, set off by those unable to make toast properly. Waking up at 8am to the shrill bell and being forced to engage in awkward small talk with people-you-met-the-other-night-but-whose-names-are-a-mystery-to-you is not an ideal way to greet the day. However, despite the minor hiccups, my first weeks in Oslo have been far better than I could have imagined, and I am now beginning to look forward to beginning things here properly.
