Oslo - The Secret Place

Well, I survived Stockholm. It wasn’t terrible. And I got to meet Dice, so that definitely elevated the whole experience (and Dice is awesome, by the way). I loved the two small towns in Sweden where we went first, but as far as big cities, Stockholm definitely didn’t live up to Copenhagen. We saw a couple of cool things and a couple of meh things. I wasn’t particularly sad to leave and I probably wouldn’t go back (except to see Dice). Copenhagen and one of the small towns in Sweden are definite return visit destinations.

So today, we got up early and got on a train (for six hours) to Oslo. I immediately didn’t like it. But I’m beginning to recognize something about myself and traveling.

I’m a nester.

I don’t enjoy the uncertainty of new surroundings. I like to see new sights and go to new museums and things like that. But I like to have a familiar base. When we stay in a place for four or five days and I know my way around the buses and where to buy food and the hotel becomes familiar, I’m much happier.

When everything is new and I have to hunt for everything and watch signs constantly and follow GPS like a baby duckling, I get tired, stressed, and irritable.

Today was one of those days. I’m sure I’ll figure out Oslo. I have figured out both Stockholm and Copenhagen at this point. But I don’t like it. Everything feels foreign and strange and uncomfortable.

And the language changed again. I am fast at languages. I picked up some Danish before we left Copenhagen. I had a bit of Swedish figured out before we left Sweden. Now everything is written in Norwegian, and really, I think my brain is tired.

It has, however, given me a new appreciation of what students in my class face when they first arrive and don’t speak English. Language is such a vital lifeforce. Even though most people here speak English, I find myself feeling withdrawn. I can’t understand overheard conversations. I can’t read advertisements or signs, every time someone speaks to me I have to ask if they speak English (which shames me). And I find myself just wanting to withdraw, be quiet, be invisible. And people CAN speak my language.

Kids who move to the U.S. and don’t speak English can’t even expect everyone to be able to switch to their native langauge on command. They are even more isolated, withdrawn, and exhausted than I am, I’m sure.

And so begins my last week. I am sure I will come to love Norway. But I need time to nest myself. I need time to rest myself. And I just need time.