I guess that, as this blog perseveres, it will make more sense to leave off the blow-by-blow chronological accounting of my goings on and rather embrace a format where I share the main events that may interest you and the points to ponder that do interest me. Let’s try to start today.
Still crushing on Bergen
Bergen is my kind of town. It has grown on me exponentially. Well, maybe not exponentially, but it’s been a steep curve. Upon arriving in Norway, I felt uncharacteristically timid and uncomfortable. Today, however, I walk around with a spring in my step and a smile on my lips (not while looking train passengers in the eye, of course). This morning I headed early into town so I could sit at a café and read over coffee. Once there, I sat at a window facing the street, watching all the morning commuters walking and driving past. I usually care little about people-watching, but there’s something about it here that I just can’t resist. I never made any progress on my book. My mind was just too busy to be able to concentrate, flooded with thoughts of how much I love it here. Jeg elsker Bergen!
What do I love about it?
Sure, it’s pretty. The prettiest little [liveable] city I’ve seen. Yes, there are some even more postcard-ready locales, but none is somewhere I could see myself surviving. More than being pretty, Bergen has the things I’ve long said I crave in a town: even though it's small, it’s built up and feels like a city without being claustrophobic. It is also exceedingly walkable. I love that one could live here perfectly comfortably without owning a car. These are among my chief beefs about Orange County: no downtown or otherwise “city” feeling, and if someone’s on foot, it means they’ve got problems.
On top of the geography and architecture (is that like saying “on top of the topography”?), the people here also strike a consonant chord with me. There’s a really chill attitude here. Not chilly, chill. Although the silent train treatment might sound chilly, I have greatly warmed to it. It’s not that people here care nothing for others, it’s that they simply respect each other’s privacy and space. When I’ve actually spoken to people, they have been universally friendly and lovely. It has been quite surprising for me to realize that this culture suits my personality much more than I would prefer to admit. All who know me know that in a social setting, I am gregarious. To a fault. You might even say I'm egregiously gregarious (haha I found an opportunity to slip in my favorite little wordplay!). But that doesn’t mean I want to walk around high-fiving people all day; as much as I can be a jocular buffoon, I often favor quiet, contemplative privacy. Is it better to acknowledge every person you see, asking, “How are you?” without wanting an answer, or to MYOB until you actually have something to say? You decide. While you’re doing that, I’m quietly aligning my heart with the Norwegians.
Oh, and one more thing. I have yet to back this up with sufficient research, but I think I am noticing a small trend that for me is actually huge in impact: these people seem to be quiet eaters. I have yet to be bothered by anyone’s eating noises. I know, I know, random thought, TMI, etc . . . but it brings solace to my soul, and I wanted to remark on it and rejoice in it.
More exploring
In other news, I went for another run yesterday. Only this time, it was downtown at lunchtime instead of in the morning back at the project dorm. I swear, jogging is the BEST way to see a new city! I saw three times as much as if I had been walking, plus I got exercise, plus the run was easy because I was too busy taking in all the sights to notice any physical exertion. Really, it was sublime. I took a handful of pictures, too, although they are merely of a small fraction of what I saw (I also failed to take any snapshots of the cool shopping district I ran through. Next time . . .).
Norsk
My last thought for today: let’s talk Norwegian. That is, let’s discuss the language. When I first arrived, it seemed like the foreignest of foreign languages. Pronunciation seems unnatural, being neither as straightforward as German nor as blended together as French. Few words seem rooted in something familiar (I mean, seriously, bare hyggelig means “you’re welcome”?? Oh, and naturally unnskyld—pronounced “nn’shil”—means “pardon me”), so it might as well be Japanese. It’s just a jumble of sounds which sounds beautiful when others speak it but which passes through my brain without leaving a trace. It even took me FOUR DAYS to be able to remember the name of the train stop where I get off. Fantoft is an easy word but it finds no purchase in the part of me that processes information.
All this to say that, to my astonishment, the language is now starting to make sense to me! I even figured out all by myself today what the train stop Bystasjonen means, even though for the past several days I assumed it had something to do with a guy named Jonas. Not even close. I have never before experienced a language immersion situation like this. The only other foreign-language lands I had previously traveled to spoke languages I either knew (French) or could easily enough decipher (Spanish). Even then, my ability to improve in the language was negligible. Here, I can actually picture myself learning the language quite rapidly. The added incentive of being immersed in the language (and, to carry the metaphor, wanting desperately to reach the surface for a gulp of air!) means that every new thing I learn imprints brightly in my brain as, “Hey! I can use this information! It helps things make sense!” This is absolutely unlike the dull information filing that goes on when sitting in a classroom learning basic vocabulary and rudimentary conjugation.
So yeah, this study abroad thing seems to be working :)
Well, unnskyld, but my eyes are tired and my head needs a rest. Too much excitement. Enjoy a few more pics. Seeya next time when I will share even more of veldig vakker Norge (on the vann) as I visit its torgen and run its gaten! Tusen takk, ha det.
Apparently, "Made in Norway" didn't truly capture the feeling of quality that the makers wanted to portray, so they chose a brand name to really convey an image.
View from downtown of a suburb.
Probably the tiniest two-story houses (with windowed attics!) I've ever seen.
