Grades End, Friendship Lasts Forever

As my friends can tell you, this post has been a long time in the making.  They've basically been holding a knife to my back for the past three weeks, asking me to write this post about them.  Okay, maybe not a knife... maybe more like a spoon.  But even spoons seem dangerous recently.  I somehow managed to cut my lip on one the other morning at breakfast.  So before I get any more oral lacerations or pommeled over the head, here you go: a post dedicated almost entirely to the friends I've made and hang out with most here at ISS.  It's a bit lengthy so get comfortable.

It's awkward for me to be writing about other people because I don't know if my perception of them matches the one they have of themselves.  Still, this has been a fun and challenging writing exercise and even if I get a few things wrong I think I know everyone well enough to know that they'll forgive me.  And if they don't, well, ISS is coming to a close so I probably won't see them for a while anyway.

The thing I was worried about most for coming to Norway was who I'd be friends with.  It doesn't matter if they're from the United States, Russia, Germany, Iran, France, Colombia, England or any other country, making friends is one of the most intimidating propositions for an introvert like me.  With each new community of people, I worry I won't be able to make friends.  It's a silly fear, really, yet it's one that is hard to disregard.  By some miracle, I've always managed to fall into a friend group but I wonder if that's due more to the acceptance of others than my dazzling social skills.  Instinctively, I'm a very quiet person.  It takes a great deal of energy for me to participate in a conversation, let alone start one.  I prefer to stay in the background, listening, only saying something when I feel it is worth saying: not exactly the perfect recipe for making friends, though perhaps the right one for making friends with the people I enjoy being friends with.  The best thing one can do is follow the age-old advice,"be yourself," and hope for a little luck.  How very lucky of I've been!

From left to right: Me, Jessica, Oksana, Brady, Zuzana, Bavo, JC

Jean-Clément

I'll start with Jean-Clément (JC) because he's the youngest in this particular group of friends, to which I will hereafter refer to as "The Brady Bunch."  Perhaps the two most important things you need to know about JC is that he's French and that he's nobility (or at least descended from nobility).  As much as he tries to act the snooty Frenchman with his two sets of silver cutlery, he's really quite a nice person.  True, we're still trying to break his habit of eating watermelon with a knife and fork and he relishes in saying "Stupid Americans!" a little too much but he only started doing the second one after we asked him to -- his accent is perfect for it.  It can be a bit difficult to understand him sometimes, particularly when he's really excited -- which is most of the time -- or after he's had a couple cups of coffee -- which makes him even more excited -- but he's usually pretty patient with us.  He's the spark plug of our group, not only for his enthusiastic personality but also his incessant inquiries of, "What are we doing today?"  It sets in motion the planning process and, whether the rest of us follow through or not, JC is there having a blast, dancing like nobody's watching, and probably taking pictures.  He is an excellent photographer -- he took many of the pictures featured in this post -- and he is an inspiration to us all.

Bavo

Zuzana took this one

What can I say about Bavo?  His team is the one that eliminated USA from the World Cup.  I can't hold that against him, though, because he's such a nice guy and none of us really care about football anyway.  Also, any held grudges could have gotten hairy because Bavo is one of my suite-mates, which means we share a shower... just let that pun sink in for a little bit.  Maybe it'll even make Bavo smile, which is something he rarely does.  It's not that he's not ecstatic to hear our annoying voices every single day -- he's perfected the subtle smirk -- he just doesn't all-out smile very often so when he does it's a precious gift that brightens our day.  He's a man of few words but many languages.  He speaks three languages fluently, but he doesn't flaunt his lingual prowess over the monolingual Americans. "You have to feel the language!" he says.  Instead, he simply uses it to communicate and, upon request, teach Brady a few new naughty phrases.  Although he's one of the youngest in the group, Bavo is mature beyond his years.  He's the quiet sentinel of almost normality -- normality being something many in the Brady Bunch lack (just kidding... or am I?) and one of the highest compliments we can give each other.  I am incredibly fortunate to be able to call Bavo my friend.

Jessica
Hanging from the Ledge of Normality over the Pit of Ger-Mania is Jessica.  Most of the time she has a firm grip on the Vine of Rationality but there are times when she gets a little loopy.  What am I saying?  She's German; of course she gets a little loopy sometimes.  As a prime example I'd like to share with you these words of wisdom so eloquently put by Jessica: "I thought to put orange marmalade on my bread and then I thought, 'Why have you done this?' It's horrible.  Taking a bite is like giving birth, but then you do it again anyway."  Though it wasn't the case in this particular instance, usually Brady is involved in Jessica's japes.  I swear, those two feed off each others' sarcastic energy like piranhas on a cow carcase.  As much as they make fun of each other and others, they, along with Oksana, made the pact that if any of them are ever in a position of power they'll make sure our countries don't go to war with one another.  In addition to being our resident German, Jessica is also the group's health nut.  I applaud her for going to the gym almost every day and enduring a place where it's hard to be a vegan.  She's extremely dedicated and diligent and is an incredibly strong person -- both of mind and will.  She could probably either single-handedly destroy your life or make it far more entertaining.  Thankfully, in my case it's the latter.

Zuzana
She's Slovak.  Not Slovakian.  Zuzana's constant crusade for correctness is one of her many positive attributes and one of the reasons she will make such an excellent script writer.  Unlike the others, I don't have anything sarcastic to say about Zuzana.  While the others are giving me a hard time about being so quiet, she just smiles because, as another introvert, she understands.  If I didn't know her well, it would be difficult to tell she's an introvert, though, because, when given the opportunity, she's usually striking up a conversation with someone.  Her voice is soft so it's sometimes difficult to hear what she said, which is unfortunate because it's usually something incredibly kind or thoughtful.  I think she cares deeply for the well-being of those around her and will go out of her way to make their day better even if that means taking time to be alone and recharge so she's not grumpy with everyone.  I marvel at the polite candor with which she can say exactly what's on her mind, be it about something that annoys her or some abstract idea; I usually have to wait until I can write it down to say what's actually on my mind.  For Zuzana it seems as natural as breathing.  Speaking of natural, it was with Zuzana (and JC) that I somehow managed to end up on a nudists' beach on one of the islands in Oslo fjord.  That was perhaps one of the our more interesting excursions.  I will be very sad to see this scene come to an end in the ever-evolving script we call life but Zuzana and all the rest of the cast will, I hope, make a reappearance in Act II.

Oksana
The crazy Russian.  In truth, she's no crazier than the rest of us but here in the Brady Bunch we like to uphold stereotypes, if only to make fun of them.  Appropriately, she taught us that the phonetic distinction between "I love you" and "I will kill you" in Russian is almost imperceptible to an American's ears.  It's become one of our standing gags along with the nicknames we have for each other.  Oksana is the one who came up with my nickname -- Bambi -- supposedly because I'm so young and sweet and innocent.  After hanging out with this group of friends for six weeks, I don't know how sweet and innocent I am anymore -- not that I was particularly sweet or innocent to begin with -- but the nickname stuck so now whenever I watch a particular Disney movie I'll think of Oksana.  To get me through the traumatic death of (SPOILERS) Bambi's mother deer-est, I'll have only to think of her wonderful Russian accent piercing through the noise of breakfast to greet me; of her stunning chimera eyes and smiling face wondering why I don't talk more but accepting it for who I am; of her "Jacqueline Kennedy" hair-style to match her personality; and of her dress-up days because, "Why not?  Can't I look good today?"  Behind the grumpy Russian demeanor, she's one of the sweetest people I have ever met.  I suppose I should entertain her Russian sense of humor and end with something mean or inappropriate but I won't, just to get back at her for all the times she tried to hug me.  At least she wasn't as bad as Brady.

Brady

"Tell me a story, Neal," as Brady -- or "Grandpa" as we like to call him -- would say.  Well, okay.  There once was a person named Brady who attended ISS four years ago with my brother.  Apparently, they stayed friends afterwards because I first met him when he visited my brother in Seattle.  Now the circle of friendship is complete and I've replaced my brother as Brady's favourite Digre.  He hasn't said so but I can tell.  In the first few days of adjusting to life in Norway, Brady's unending stream of snarky comments and knowledge from the "olden days" was an indispensable source of entertainment and comfort.  Even after I'd made so many wonderful friends that don't poke me in the ribs or squeeze the nerve in my elbow, I still find myself hanging out with Brady the most.  I mean, he is vice-president of the student council, after all.  It pays to have powerful friends, even if they're full of sarcastic remarks, like, "Oh, I'm sorry.  I shouldn't have said anything [about the party].  You're not invited but I am so that's where I'll be if you wonder."  But his quick wit and affable smile make people smile; his jests are just part of the reason he's enjoyable to be around.  Beneath the iron fist with which he subjugates the Brady Bunch and the mischievous glint in his eyes, I see a person who truly cares about his friends and enjoys forming and maintaining connections with people.  One can never be entirely sure where Brady is concerned but amongst the stream of mockery that emanates from his mouth are tucked gems of twisted sincerity that, I think, characterise our friend group.  For example: the title of this post and, with only the slightest hint of sarcasm, "We have each other and that's all that matters."  The End.

I'd like to devote an entire paragraph to every single wonderful person I've met during my time here at the International Summer School but I'd also like to get some sleep in the next week.  Those whose names are not underlined are no less important to me and no less my friend.  It's simply a matter of who kept nagging me to write about them.

Though they certainly add to the unique atmosphere, it's not the classes or the places that make an experience like the International Summer School so memorable; it's the people you meet, the adventures you share, and the friendships formed to last a lifetime.  Classes end, test scores are forgotten, textbooks are packed away, but the friends you make will always linger in your heart and mind.  It's been such a fantastic experience and I'll be sad to have to say good-bye.  It's only for a short while, though; we have all our lives ahead of us to travel, to visit each other, to form stronger connections between ourselves and our countries.

In a world fraught with fear and violence the best remedy is friendship and understanding.  It can't solve all of the world's problems, not by a long shot, but it's a start.  The students of today will be the leaders of tomorrow.  Maybe, with a cultured world-view and the help of institutions such as the International Summer School, we as humans will be able to put aside the oppression, anger, and violence and begin to live on this beautiful Earth with all it's mountains, fjords, deserts, glaciers, lakes, and streams as it was meant to be lived on: in peace, prosperity, and friendship.

I know this post got really long and I know it may not have been the easiest thing to follow if you don't know the people I'm talking about but I hope you enjoyed reading it anyway.  Having now traveled and studied abroad, I sincerely believe that friendship, understanding, and communication is the path to a better future.  Whenever you travel, wherever you travel, with every new person you meet, I hope you try to see the world as I see it -- not through the limited vision of your own prejudices but through the eyes of an open-minded traveler.  To help you along the way, I will continue to share my thoughts and experiences as I travel throughout Norway for a week and a half after ISS comes to an end; and beyond, as I continue to travel for the rest of my life.  Stay tuned.  -NLD

A Brief Update

I should really be studying for my final exams right now so I'll make this quick.  After some intense studying yesterday (Monday), I went to REMA for the very last REMA-nday.  It was a sad day but the arm-fulls of junk food I came back with made me feel better.

The most recent news I've read on the terrorist threat against Norway is that the threat level is slightly reduced.  As far as I know, there hasn't been an official reduction of the threat level so there are still many security officers posted at all of the border crossings, airports, and other transport hubs; but things are at least looking better than when the threat was first announced last Thursday.  One article I read said authorities thought the attack was supposed to happen yesterday (Monday 28/7), following the end of Ramadan.  If it was supposed to happen yesterday, then the government's strategy of releasing the information to the public may have achieved its purpose of deterring the terrorists from fulfilling their plan.  Still, we should maintain vigilance as we go about our day-to-day lives.

I'd like to say more but I really need to get back to studying.  I'll probably only get one more post in before the end of ISS and I already have most of it written so be on the look-out for that either tomorrow or Thursday... probably Thursday.  Stay tuned.  -NLD

ICE ICE Baby

If you don't have Vanilla Ice's "Ice Ice Baby" running through your head right now you're doing it wrong.

I studied a little bit today but spent much of it procrastinating so now I'm frantically trying to finish this post so I can move on to something else.  Last night (Friday) was the International Cultural Evening (ICE), held at Chateau Neuf (the student union building).  It was very entertaining and wonderful to see performers from 15 different countries or regions, in addition to 23 countries' cultural booths prior to the performance.  Some of my favourite acts included a Russian singing group, a Hindu mantra act, an American singer/piano player, an Azerbaijani dance duo, and a Brazilian singing group.  The rest of the acts were excellent, too.  After the show there was an after party downstairs but I didn't stay for long.  You know a party's going downhill when a Conga line forms.

Sorry if I didn''t do justice to what was described to us as the climax of the International Summer School but I think my excursion to Jotenheimen far surpasses ICE.  Maybe the person clapping obnoxiously during every single song ruined it a bit for me.  Despite my annoyance, it was a fantastic evening and I want to thank everyone who shared their talents and culture with us.  It reminds me that their are still beautiful and remarkable moments that can bring people from so many different countries and cultures together under one roof to form a community that no terrorist threat will ever be able to tear apart.

Other than the increased security around Chateau Neuf for the event, I have nothing new to report on the terrorist threat.  For most civilians it's just become a waiting game to see if the public announcement of the attack will, as the government hopes, deter the radicals from executing their plan.  All we can do is be extra vigilant and hope and trust.

That's all for now.  Sorry for the lack of pictures; none of the pictures I took during ICE turned out well so I'm only left with words.  I'll try to post again in the next few days but I might be really busy with studying for final exams so I can't make any promises.  I will, however, promise to post any updates on the terror threat if I learn anything of importance.  At this point, though, I think most people can learn what they want on their own from news articles online.  Still, I will continue to mention anything of note on this blog.  Stay tuned.  -NLD

All-Time Highs

Yesterday (Thursday) Oslo set a new record high temperature of 33.4° C (92.1° F) for the month of July.  Living in Seattle for the past two years has spoiled me weather-wise;  I'm not used to this sort of heat and I certainly didn't expect to encounter it here in Norway.  I'll probably go to Sangsvann this afternoon for a nice refreshing swim before dinner and the International Cultural Evening.

Not only is the temperature at all-time highs but so is the security in response to the terror threat against Norway.  They haven't told us much other than what little we were told in the emails sent out yesterday but I've read a few news articles on the subject and this is what I found out:  The threat is linked to fighting in Syria.  It is not known who, how, or where any attack might be carried out but it is said to be planned to take place within the next few days.  Though the intelligence is unspecific, it is believed to be credible.  In response, many buildings have been closed to the public and police and security forces are on extra high alert.  On my way to the Norwegian Folk Museum I saw clear signs of increased security: Police vans parked on street corners, guards posted at metro stations, road blocks up in front of important buildings.  I have full confidence in Norway's security forces and doubt that I am in any danger.  I'll keep posting updates as I learn more.

nøff nøff

This afternoon I went to the Norwegian Folk Museum with my Norwegian class.  It was far more interesting than the Resistance Museum.  The Folk Museum is an almost entirely outdoor museum with buildings both very old and somewhat new brought in from all around Norway.  I got to stand inside a Stave Church over 700 years old and a house that was built before the Black Death arrived in Norway (1349).  I also got to try some traditional Norwegian lefse.  It was much thicker than the tynnlefse I'm used to back home.  It was delicious all the same.  There was also a wide-array of farm animals mø-mø-ing, klukk-klukk-ing, and nøff-nøff-ing.  There was too much to see in just half a class period so I'd like to go back before I leave.

That's all I have for today.  I'll probably have another post about the International Culture Evening ready some time tomorrow and I'm still chipping away at a longer post that should be up some time next week.  I hope there won't be any events that would warrant its own post and therefore delay the longer one but from what I've read it could be a possibility so I'll remain cautious.  Stay tuned.  -NLD

The Struggle is Real

This week has been relatively uneventful so I don't have much to say.  That's the thing with me -- I usually don't say much.  Despite my friends' best attempts to get me to talk more, I stick to my quiet nature and only speak when I think what I have to say is worth saying.  Even though my native language -- English -- acts as the lingua franca at ISS where, collectively, I think we know something well over 100 different languages, I prefer to use one of the only languages that's almost universal; There's so much that can be communicated using only facial expressions and body language.  If I need to say something more than what I can say with my eyes, face, or hands I prefer to use writing because it allows me to process what I'm saying.  I can't just walk around with a notepad all day, though, so I speak when necessary but otherwise prefer to listen.  But you're not here to read about me -- if you wanted to do that you'd be reading my other blog -- so I'll end this digression and get right to this relatively uneventful week.

Perhaps the most prevailing thing on everybody's mind these past few days has been the heat.  It's gotten up to around 30° C (86° F) every day so far this week.  I didn't come to Norway to perpetually be swimming in a pool of my own sweat.  Thankfully, I think it's suppose to cool off a bit over the weekend and rain most of next week.  Which will make studying a bit easier because...

Coming in at a close second for being the most prevalent thing on everybody's mind -- final exams are next week.  I can't believe it!  It seems like we just started.  Already we're up to World War II in my history class and we've begun to focus more on getting ready for the written exam in my Norwegian class.  I'm not too worried but I'll have to put a lot of hard work in over the weekend to be ready by Wednesday (History and Norwegian Oral Exams) and Thursday (Norwegian Written Exam).  Perhaps the rain will encourage me to stay inside and study.

Definitely the most exciting thing that has happened this week (so far) has been a failed tour of the National Gallery.  There were posters on the bulletin board advertising a tour of the National Gallery on Monday.  I knew the National Gallery is closed on Mondays but I figured they had arranged something special so I went along.  It turned out that the tour guide mixed up the days and thought it was Sunday.  So two hours wasted later, I was tired, sweaty, and annoyed.  Just as exciting was the excursion to the (WWII) Norwegian Resistance Museum today (Thursday) for my history class.  Honestly, I didn't find the museum that interesting; it was a lot of text mostly in Norwegian and my professor didn't get yelled at this time for touching what few artifacts they had.  More interesting than the museum was Akershus Fortress, itself -- where the museum is located.  It was so hot out, though, I didn't take the time to wander around.

Tomorrow I will be going to the Norwegian Folk Museum with my Norwegian class, which I hope will me more fun than my last two museum experiences.  Also tomorrow is the International Cultural Evening which should be an excellent way to end the week before final exams.  As everyone that works here likes to keep telling us, it is the climax of the International Summer School.  I hope they're right.

Before I end this post there's one thing I should mention: Over the past couple hours I have received several emails and notifications concerning a possible terrorist attack threat in Norway.  I'm not saying this to worry anyone -- I expect everyone here at ISS will be safe -- but I just want to make sure everyone reading this is up-to-date on the situation.  Extra precautions will be taken, I'm sure, to ensure that Oslo doesn't see a repeat of the events from three years ago.  I'll post any updates as I learn them.  Stay tuned.  -NLD

In the Land of Giants

This weekend (19/7-20/7) I went on a hiking and white water rafting excursion to Jotunheimen -- the Home of the Giants.  I apologise for the delay in getting this post out but after getting back Sunday evening I was extremely tired from two days filled with hiking, rafting, and long bus rides.  I'm only getting around to posting it now because it's taken me this long to write it.  I'm somewhat of a perfectionist when it comes to my writing.

The bus to Jotunheimen National Park left bright and early Saturday morning at 8:30.  Okay, that's not that early but when you had an interesting Friday night and have to get up in time for breakfast, too, it was pretty dang early.  As "early" as it was, I was still surprised by how empty the bus seemed as we pulled away from Blindern Studenterhjem.  Assuming the bus was meant to be almost full, either a third of the people who originally signed up missed the bus or this excursion was ridiculously undersold.

The bus ride was beautiful but, unfortunately, I wasn't awake to see much of it.  Occasionally the uncomfortable bus seats woke me up long enough to catch a glimpse of a stunningly blue lake, a dynamite-scarred rock face, or Brady's drooping head.  We escaped the bus for a short lunch break in Fagernes before piling back in for the rest of my nap to Jotunheimen.

Our lunch spot in Fagernes

When I fell asleep shortly after leaving Fagernes we were still surrounded by lakes and tree covered mountains; when I woke up I was in a completely different world.  The lakes had been replaced by seas of grass, rocks, and shrubs; the tree-covered mountains by rugged batholiths, rising out the landscape like waking giants.  Jotunheimen National Park is aptly named.

The struggle is real!

Our first major activity was a hike up Bitihorn -- a 600m (1968 ft.) ascent over rocky terrain and muddy streams.  Although my footwear was entirely unsuitable for such a hike, they got me up and down the mountain safely; my distress over whether or not to pack big, bulky, heavy hiking boots was unnecessary.  Hiking boots would have been useful, though, in keeping up with all the Norwegians and their five-year-old children.  Seriously!  Norwegian families are crazy athletic!  They bring their kids and short-legged dogs on a hike that had me breathing hard thirty minutes in.  Not only that but some of them run -- literally run! -- up and down the mountain for exercise.  One misstep and I'd be dead before I tumbled to the bottom.  The true Norwegians are more daring than me.

The muddy shoes, somewhat scraped forearm, and four hours of clambering over rocks were totally worth it because the views were incredible!  Only a panorama can come close to encapsulating the immense beauty of the area: snow-capped peaks, glacial lakes, enormous sky.

On the way up.

Made it to the top of Bitihorn!

Is there any "way" more beautiful than Norway?

As beautiful as the hike was, it was nowhere near as fun as white water rafting down the Sjoa River.  The hour and a half bus ride from Bitihorn to the rafting camp would have been beautiful if only I hadn't had to go to the bathroom so badly.  Longest. Bus Ride. Ever.  I had plenty of time to enjoy the scenery, though, because after we arrived at camp our only duties for the rest of the evening were eating a delicious dinner and sitting in hot tubs.

The next day, after a traditional Norwegian breakfast, we wet-suited up for whatever the river would throw at us.  And throw at us it did -- frigid glacial water, waves taller than our raft crashing over us, enormous rocks situated in the middle of the river.  Our incredible rafting guides guided us through it all without incident.  In between rapids, while we were in relatively "calm" waters, I looked up from the frothy water to see magnificent geologic structures in the cliffs overlooking either bank of the river, farms and houses a stark contrast to the heavily forested mountain-side, smiling faces all around me.  White water rafting was definitely one of the most exhilarating and fun experiences of my life!

While I wouldn't normally use pictures I personally didn't take, I paid for these and they're my only proof I actually went rafting.  And since I'm not using this blog for my own financial gain I don't feel bad about using them as long as I give photo credit where it's due: Barbora Hollan, Sjoa Rafting.

That's all from me for now.  I'll probably post something short in the next few days as I'm also working on a post that's a bit longer.  I hope you've enjoyed reading this post and, though I haven't mentioned it before, please, always feel free to leave a comment below.  Stay tuned.  -NLD

As Corny as it Sounds

I'll skip the preamble this time and go straight to the cream of the corn crop.

Adjusting to life back at school after my long weekend in London has been a bit brutal.  Upon my return, I spent much of my free time writing about my trip to London (sorry if three lengthy posts was a bit much) and, therefore, very little time learning Norwegian.  Taking a five day break when learning a new language is a big old NO-NO.  It's not like I had any particularly good reason not to; I just didn't feel like it, as bad as that sounds.  I'm here in Norway to learn Norwegian, after all.  But so much new vocabulary can be daunting.

I'm pretty good at learning grammar but memorizing vocabulary has never been a strength of mine.  Certainly there are those with a proclivity for memorization and I wouldn't consider myself one of them but that's no excuse; I'm not good at lexical acquisition because I think I'm not.  Just because I'm not as good at one thing as I am at another doesn't mean I shouldn't work hard at it; it means I should work even harder to overcome my inadequacies.  I'll never get better if I don't try.  As corny as it sounds, the things that come easily to us define what we've always been; the things we have to struggle for determine what we'll become.  Will I be lazy and simply give up?  Or will I power through, press my nose against the grindstone, and learn as much Norwegian as I can because that's what I came here to do.  I hope that having said this on the internet for all the world to see will encourage me to put more effort into my studies.

This self pep-talk brought to you by Neal's unfinished homework.

Despite the constant struggle, both of my classes have been extremely enjoyable.  At first I was a bit worried about the length of my Norwegian class, as late as I am in saying so.  Three hours every day immediately after spending two hours in a different class sounded like a lot.  However, the time goes fast when I'm concentrating on absorbing everything.  Also, two fifteen-minute breaks separate the three hours of learning into manageable chunks.  My Norwegian class even seems to go faster than my history class.  My history class is fascinating -- particularly the historic and linguistic tangents my professor goes on -- but a two hour lecture class taught by a professor that enjoys the sound of his own voice is rather like watching corn grow.  Don't get me wrong, he's a fantastic professor; it's more the nature of the class' material and early-in-the-morning-ness that makes the time tick by so slowly.

Yesterday (Wednesday) after class I went on a walking tour along the Aker river.  In addition to it being a beautiful day, many of the old mills and factories along the river are from the time period I've been learning about in my history class the past couple days.  The tour guide was an interesting person but also very knowledgeable and quite funny.  He told us that the name "Aker" originally comes from the word for "field" or "corn."  He also told us that if we ever get a job in Norway selling fake university degrees to give him ten percent of the profit.

By the end of the two and a half hour tour I was starving.  At dinner they served ribs, potatoes, and -- you guessed it -- corn on the cob.  I don't know that I'd actually call it corn on the cob, though; it had been canned, was all soft and weird, and tasted as if the plant it came from died six years ago.  Okay, it wasn't that bad, but growing up in the Midwest can make a person picky about their sweet corn.

After dinner I worked on this blog for a while before going out for an evening with some friends.  Nothing too crazy.  Just an enjoyable evening with some wonderful people.

Sorry for how corny this post ended up being.  I try to think of ways to make my blog posts interesting or entertaining for people to read but oftentimes I feel as if they're mere husks of what they could be.  I'll try to stalk up on a cornucopia of new ideas before my next post.  I can just feel the scornful looks you're giving me.  That's okay.  Your corneas can do my ears no harm.  If you want to tassel over it, though, I'll be in the corner.

If you're still reading this, thanks for reading!  I'll do my best to post something before leaving for my white water rafting excursion this weekend.  Stay tuned.  -NLD

Just Me and 8.3 Million Others, Part III

My second full day in London was much like the first: a lot of walking, a lot of seeing touristy things but being annoyed by tourists, a lot of walking, a lot of making sure my phone didn't die.  I would have liked to take a trip out to Oxford but a 2+ hour train ride each way would make it a full-day commitment and there were still a few places I wanted to visit in London.  I also would have liked to go to Stratford-upon-Avon (Shakespeare's birth and resting place) and Stonehenge, among other places.  Next time.

Greenwich Park

I started out my second morning by finally exploring the area I'd been staying in for the past two days.  I thought Greenwich was a great, quaint part of London.  It seems small and quiet yet is close enough to the city center to not be boring or inconvenient.  I appreciated its rich historical background and chance for excitement yet the solitude and tranquility it offered, particularly in 180 acre Greenwich Park -- thick grass covering vast stretches of land and rolling hills, rain falling lightly on my upturned hood, the sound of a dog barking in the distance, enormous trees watching over all.  Greenwich park is home to the Royal Observatory, Greenwich, best known as being the location of the prime meridian.  It was also a place of study for many famous scientists, like Edmund Halley.  Walking on stairs once tread by such pioneers of science was a spine-tingling experience.  Standing with one foot on each side of the prime meridian was pretty cool, too.

Shepard gate 24-hour time clock and standard lengths

One foot in each hemisphere

Located just down the hill from the observatory is the Maritime Museum, Old Royal Naval College, and The (former) Queen's House.  I didn't go into any of them because I had other things on my agenda and, quite honestly, they weren't of any particular interest to me.

Upon stepping off the train into London, I went around doing clean up work from the day before.  I went to Westminster Abbey first.  Though the tombs and dedications were impressive, fighting the crowds was mostly just for the the sake of saying "I've been there," with the exception of Isaac Newton's and Chaucer's tombs.  I was genuinely interested in seeing those memorials, along with the rest in Poet's Corner.  From Westminster it was a quick jaunt to the National Gallery to pop in for a glance at Van Gogh's Sunflowers, again, mostly for the sake of being able to say I've seen it -- I appreciate art but I don't fancy standing around for hours looking at it; I see what I want to see and then get out of other people's way.  Photographs were not allowed in either place so I don't have any to share with you.

After a bite to eat in Trafalgar Square, it was time to head North.  Regent's Park was my first stop where I sat and read for a little bit, enjoyed the flowers, and listened through the hedge to a small portion of an outdoor play performance.  On my way out of the park I ran into several cricket matches -- I don't think I'll ever understand that game -- as well a Flying-Trapeze school.

My next stop was Abbey Road.  Much like Platform 9 3/4 from the day before, I didn't feel like standing in line to have my picture taken at a place I'm only marginally interested in.  That, and the thought of joining the throngs of people blocking traffic annoyed me.  So I took a picture of the famous zebra crossing and moved on.  Don't get me wrong, I like most of the Beatles' music -- if only because they were the most influential act of the rock era -- but it's never been at the top of my "Most Played" list.  Still, Abbey Road was just another one of those places I had to go to so I can say I've been there.

I then had a bit of a trek back towards Regent's Park to get to Primrose Hill.  Primrose Hill is both the name of the exclusive residential area that has housed or currently houses many notable residents -- Daniel Craig, Alan Rickman, Harry Styles, and Helena Bonham Carter, to name a few -- and the name of the hill overlooking Regent's Park and London.  Once at the top, the view was quite spectacular, even with the haze obscuring the London Skyline's full splendour and beauty.  Unfortunately, I didn't bump into any of the people listed above but, according to the people sitting on the bench next to mine, I came into contact with a rather well-known television news-caster, or something.  I saw who they were talking about but had no idea who he was.  His dog was cute, though.  That's one thing London has in common with Oslo: it seems everybody owns a dog and they are all ridiculously cute; the dogs, I mean, though the people aren't too shabby looking either.  Tangent over.

A friend in my Norwegian class recommended I go to Camden Market so once I'd had my fill of marvelous views and cute dogs I headed in that direction.  I'm very glad I followed his recommendation.  There was a festival of some sort going on in the market so in addition to the standard wide variety of street-food vendors and shops, there was a live music stage and a dance stage.  Perhaps Camden Market is always that lively but, despite the crowd and perhaps even because of it, Camden Market was definitely a highlight of my trip.  The music was great, the food was delicious and smelled amazing, the many maze-like alley-ways filled with innumerable street-vendors; all added to an atmosphere that I soaked up like a sponge.  I don't know what finally made me leave but, eventually, I left to walk along the canal.

I headed back to Regent's Park, to the side I hadn't been to yet.  I sat on a bench along the park's main thoroughfare for maybe an hour, reading and watching all the people on their way to the London Zoo.  That interested me:  The London Zoo seemed to not only be a popular tourist attraction -- the reptile house being where a Burmese python escaped in Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone -- but also a place where Londoners went to socialize and hang out. (I don't know for sure if that's 100% true but it's the impression I got.)  As much as I'd have liked to go in, it was getting late and I had an 08:25 flight to catch in the morning so I decided to head back to Greenwich.  I tried to make the walk and train ride last as long as possible.  Now was the time to say good-bye to London because the next morning I'd be too tired and in too much of a rush to do so properly.  I can't wait to go back.

The Broadwalk in Regent's Park

Regent's Canal

Thus ended my time in London.  I hope you enjoyed reading about it as much as I enjoyed writing about it -- it's basically all I've been doing in my free time since I got back to Oslo on Saturday.  I'll have more to post concerning classes and my week back at school later this week.  Stay tuned.  - NLD

Primrose Hill -- Let not the world's haze mar your perfect view

Just Me and 8.3 Million Others, Part II

The almost perfect place to write

Before I get to some more of London I should say that as I’m writing this (or at least part of it), I’m sitting on a rock outcrop on the island of Langøyene, overlooking Oslo Fjord.  It turns out that where we [my friends and I] were sitting was part of a nude beach.  From the way we came there weren't any signs until the first naked person walked right in front of us but when we left going the other direction and, sure enough, there was a sign reading, "Fristrand, Nakenbading tillat (Free Beach, Skinny dipping allowed)."  Woops.  That wasn't the only adventure from today (Sunday).  I took a dip -- don't worry, not a skinny one -- in Oslo Fjord.  It was cold.  Very cold.  Maybe even colder than the lake at Sagnsvann but it's hard to tell once your entire body goes numb.  Also, getting to the ferry on time was a thrilling tale of bravery, friendship, and determination.  It involved a lot of brisk walking, some J-walking, a little sprinting, and more physical exertion in a short amount of time since gym class senior year of high school — okay maybe not that long ago, maybe just since my first full day in London.

My first full day in London was quite possibly the best day of my time there and for sure the busiest.  On the first day, alone, I walked about 13.8 miles (22.2km) and took 28,358 steps, courtesy of “Moves” app.  Each step was a new adventure.

After chatting with a couple people from California over a quick breakfast, my first step out the door was one of confidence and excitement — I had laid out a plan the night before and now I was going to follow it as closely as my curiosity allowed.

The short eight-minute train ride into London was spent getting a feel for the Londoners and silently trying to imitate them — “When in Rome,” right?  There was often a bit of jostling around that went on when getting on and off the trains so I learned very quickly how to say "sorry" in the best London accent I could muster, which probably wasn't all that good.  Even so, I said "sorry" a lot.  If there’s another thing I learned very quickly, it was to say, “Cheers” rather than “Thank you.”  I'm sure my attempts to be like them merely annoyed the Londoners but I didn't get any funny looks (that I saw) so it at least felt like I'd succeeded.  My goal this trip was not to experience London as a tourist — though I went to some very touristy places — but as a world traveler.  Is there a difference?  I'd like to think so.

Once I got my bearings from London Bridge Station, I made my way towards the Thames and to Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre.  Even though it’s only a reconstruction, it surprised me that it’s completely surrounded by other buildings except for the side that faces the river.  Unfortunately I didn’t get to go inside but from where I stood outside I could still feel the poetic brilliance being exuded from it.  After getting my fill of Shakespearean awesome, I walked across Millennium Bridge (the bridge that collapses in the beginning of "Happy Potter and the Half Blood Prince”) towards St. Paul’s Cathedral.  It was an impressive sight.  I stuck around St. Paul’s for about an hour, reading in the Starbucks just next door.  I would have preferred to find something more locally unique but because I knew Starbucks has outlets where I could charge my phone I went with the safe option over something new.  At this point my phone was already running low on battery to where I didn’t feel comfortable wandering off to some little cafe that might not have outlets and that I might not know how to get back from without GPS.  I'm not very adventurous in that regard, I guess.  And let me just say, Londoners do love their Starbucks.  So going to Starbucks seemed the natural thing to do when trying to fit in.

As soon as my phone was all charged up and I was all caffeinated up I took a stroll down Fleet street.  I almost got a haircut but then decided against it for some reason.  I walked past the Royal Courts of Justice and then stopped by Drury Lane to say "hello" to the Muffin Man before heading over to Covent Garden to say "ello" to Eliza Doolittle.  Just a short distance away from Covent Garden was my favourite street in London: Neal Street.  What made it even better -- there was a "Lee" store on it.  (If you didn't know, my middle name is Lee.)

Notice the street sign on the right and the store name on the left

All the walking I'd done thus far me hungry so I stopped at a neat little pizza place called "Homeslice Pizza" in Neal's Yard.  Neal's Yard is a hidden courtyard just off Neal Street that you would have no idea is there unless you knew where to look for it or stumbled across it.  The only indication to the outside world that it even exists is a box suspended by a pulley above the entrance to a small alleyway.  Besides the pizza place there is a small food stall, an organic skin care remedies shop, and a massage therapist.  The buildings are brightly coloured and there are plants everywhere.  It's probably my favourite place in London and because of that it deserves three pictures!

 

After a significant amount of time in Neal's Yard I went to the British Museum.  It was massive and there were so many things to see but I've never been a huge fan of wandering aimlessly through a museum, looking at old stuff I won't remember anything about in a few hours so I just went straight to the one thing I wanted to see -- the Rosetta Stone.  It was way cooler and much cheaper to see than a language learning software of the same name.  Many museums in London are free so if it's a rainy day like it was when I was there, be sure to take advantage of them.

The Rosetta Stone

After the British Museum I took a quick jaunt up to King's Cross to see Platform 9 3/4.  The line was ridiculously long so I didn't want to wait hours just for a picture of myself pushing a trolley into a wall.  Yes, call me a disappointment to the Harry Potter Fan-dom but I was there and I saw it and enjoyed it and that's what matters; plus, that's probably more than what all but the most die-hard non-British Harry Potter fans can say.

Trafalgar Square

From King's Cross it was an easy Tube ride to Piccadilly Circus and Trafalgar Square.  The National Gallery was closed that day so I didn't get to go in and see Van Gogh's "Sunflowers" but I managed to squeeze that in the next day.  After snapping a few pictures in Trafalgar Square it was time for another quick stop at Starbucks.

When I was in London five years ago I went to Westminster Abbey but didn't get to go inside.  So I headed down that direction in the mid-afternoon.  Unfortunately, it had just closed to tourists at 15:30 so I would have to wait one more day to be able to stand close to a bunch of famous dead people.

I sat in Parliament Square for a few minutes before deciding to walk over to St. James's Park and Buckingham Palace.  After a few quick pictures I went back into St. James's Park to do a bit of reading on a bench -- an English bench, in an English park!  Sitting on a bench reading a book made me feel rather like one of those old men from the movies; you know the ones.  All I needed was a flat cap, a pipe, and some little kid to sit next to me and ask me about the meaning of life.  The answer I gave would change his or her life significantly and go on to either begin or end the plot of the movie.  Anyway... Sitting on the bench was probably my favourite thing from the entire day.  After a day of walking around the whole of London, it was nice to sit down, relax, enjoy nature, watch the swans, ducks, and geese on the pond in front of me, watch the people as they passed by, stopping to take pictures of the friendly squirrel that seemed to take a liking to me -- it sat next to me on the bench for a good 20 minutes -- and, of course, to read; the reading was the best part.  It wasn't Jane Austen or Charles Dickens but it was a great book, nonetheless.

 

I read for about an hour and a half before it started to cloud back up and I decided it was time to head back to Greenwich.  I missed my train at Charring Cross so I walked across the Thames to London Bridge Station.  That's a really long walk when you're hungry, I can tell you.  Instead of trying to find some neat restaurant that would likely be expensive to eat at, I waited until I got back to Greenwich and ordered something at the bar under the hostel -- hooray discounts on bar food!  It was actually pretty good food, too.  I was exhausted from my long day of walking so after food and some cider I just went to bed.  I had another big day ahead of me.

This has become rather long so I'll save the rest for Part III.  I'm not sure how much time I'll have to work on what I hope will be the last part, what with a fresh week of classes starting tomorrow, but I'll do my best to get it done so I can move on to other things.  Stay tuned.  - NLD

Just Me and 8.3 Million Others, Part I

I've only been back in Oslo a short while but I already want to go back to London.  Normally I'd be off-the-wall happy to be in Oslo because it's such a wonderful city but when I have to say good-bye to London it makes everything harder.  My past three days in London were, to quote the 9th Doctor, "Fantastic!"

Getting through classes on Wednesday was a struggle because one went by too fast and the other too slow.  Norwegian History was a mad dash to get five key terms described, two passages analyzed, a handful of multiple choice questions answered, a map of Norway's counties filled out, and one essay written in two hours -- two hours that went by far too quickly though, I hope, went well enough.  Norwegian, on the other hand, dragged by; waiting for the class to be over so I could just leave already was like waiting for the summer Sun to go down in Norway.

London from afar

Finally the long weekend arrived and it was time to leave.  Train ride after plane ride after bus ride after train ride and I somehow magically ended up in London.  First thing I did when I got there was purchase my Oyster Card.  If you ever go to London and are going to be there for more than just a day an Oyster Card is a necessity.  You can load an initial amount of money onto the card and then top-up as you need more.  It works for the Tube, DLR (Docklands Light Rail), buses, Overground, and most National Rail services.  It made getting around so much easier than having to buy individual tickets any time I wanted to get somewhere.

St. Mary Somerset Tower

Exiting the train station left me smack-dab in the middle of what must be the financial district -- people in suits all over the place, tall shiny buildings -- and made me feel rather out of place in shorts and a button-up.  It wasn't just in the financial district where people were dressed well.  People going out for the evening were dressed impeccably, as well.  Mixed in with the tall shiny buildings were much older ones.  It was one of my favourite things about London: you could be walking past a modern skyscraper and right next door would be a building dating back to the 12th century.

Eventually I made my way across the Thames (taking a picture of Tower Bridge from London Bridge along the way [see picture, left]) to London Bridge Station where I would catch the train to Greenwich, which is where I stayed.

Before doing that, I explored the area around London Bridge Station.  I came across a market -- Borough Market -- with many restaurants, bars, and pubs.  Around this time, I realised I hadn't eaten anything since lunch that afternoon at Blindern Studentehjem.  Not feeling too picky, I ordered some classic fare with a slight twist: Bangers on a Bun.  It was delicious but I was so hungry I didn't take much time to savour it.  After that I just wanted to check in at the hostel where I stayed and get some shut-eye before a big day of exploring.  Initially, I had intended to just wander around and go to whatever caught my fancy.  But London is so large with so much to do that had I not had at least some sketch of what I wanted to do I probably would have spent most of my time wandering aimlessly, hopelessly lost, or both.  Therefore, I stayed up a little later than I normally would have mapping out major stepping-stones for my first day in London.  Helpful in my search for things to do was an app called "London Travel Guide and Offline City Map."  Without it, I might have known what I wanted to see but no idea of how to get there, particularly where the Tube was involved.

The hostel I stayed at in Greenwich was a little difficult to find.  It's situated right above a bar in a square just outside the main entrance of the Greenwich train station but because I took a wrong turn coming out of a back-way exit, it took longer to find than it should have.  Despite it being right above a bar, I never took advantage of the situation, especially on that first night; I was too tired from many hours of walking or travel to get so drunk that I'd be glad to only have to stumble up a flight of stairs instead of across half a city.  That's not to say it wasn't nice to enjoy a beer or some cider after a long day of exploring London.

Though this was the first hostel I've stayed at since my trip to Europe four years ago (making it hard to make comparisons), I thought this hostel was relatively nice.  Unfortunately, one of my roommates insisted on complaining incessantly about every minute thing -- true or untrue -- that is wrong with the hostel.  I ignored him.  What does he expect?  A five-star hotel?  True, the rooms got rather warm at night and there was only one power strip to share between the room's eight occupants but, other than that, I found the hostel to be satisfactory for the price I paid (cheap).  It had all the essentials: a bed, clean sheets, free internet, a cage for my belongings (supply your own padlock), a relatively clean bathroom and showers, free breakfast in the morning, discounts on drinks and bar grub, and a friendly and helpful staff.  Towels you had to pay a fee to borrow but I brought my own so that wasn't an issue.  Overall, I was very happy with my stay there.  If you're looking for lobster and caviar breakfast buffets, 24-hour room service, and spotless private bathrooms with a wide array of elegantly scented soaps, it probably isn't for you; but if you're not afraid to make a few (small) sacrifices for a cheap place to stay for a few days then I'd highly recommend it.  I, at least, didn't spend much time there, anyway; mainly just to sleep at night, which is sort of the point, I think.

This was my second time in London but my first visit was only for a day so I wanted to come back to see some of the things I missed the first time around.  Last time I went with a group; this time I was completely alone.  It was nice to be able to soak up the city at my own pace.  Especially after three intense weeks of meeting new people and trying to be social, some "me" time was much needed.  It was one of the best experiences of my life to be entirely on my own -- no friends, no family, just me, my own instincts, my own two legs, and 8.3 million Londoners.

I haven't even gotten past my first half-day in London so I'm going to leave it there for now and continue tomorrow with Part II.  As always, I hope you enjoyed this post and thanks for reading!  Stay tuned.  - NLD