Besök Bergen

It's been awhile, folks.

I am the luckiest woman alive. You know why? I had the most fantastic weekend in Norway with some of my close friends.

If you are a nature lover and you are willing to spend obscene amounts of money on food, then Norway is the perfect place for you. Norway is a backpacker's paradise...in the summer. However, it was not summer when we went and it rained almost the entire time we were there so camping was out of the question. We just were not equipped. Nevertheless, it was wonderfully fantastic and perfect in the most imperfect way. Because climbing mountains in Scandinavia is not about being dry and comfortable.

The adventure started off stressfully, in all honesty. You'd think that a bus stop called Hälsovägen would be located on the street HÄLSOVÄGEN. Not even.

Our first mistake was not sleeping at the airport. Seriously folks, when in doubt, sleep at the airport and get over it. Our flight to Oslo was going to leave at like 6 in the morning so we could not afford to be late. The train downtown in the middle of the night leaves on a once-per-hour basis (which is still amazing considering there is no public transportation at all in the middle of the night in most U.S. cities).

Traveling is about being spontaneous, with just the right amount of planning. In this case our planning level was nix. We thought about finding where the stop was ahead of time but then thought, "naaah, we'll be fine." Well we did end up just fine, but barely. Listen now and take this as a lesson from me.

It was like 2 in the morning and we had just made a pitiful attempt to sleep for like one hour but the excitement of the journey made this nearly impossible. We walked through the cold to the bus stop, or where we thought it should be anyway. It turns out we spent the next half hour walking back and forth checking all the stops on the street in frustration and then missed our bus, and we had not come up with a plan B ahead of time. So we waited for a different bus for an alternate route. We waited. And waited. And waited. The electronic sign said the bus should be there in five minutes. Then it changed to six. Then it changed to five. Then it changed to four. Then it changed to five again. Come ON, man.

Finally the bus came and took us four to a stop in the middle of freaking nowhere, where we waited for what was supposed to be another half hour but felt like eternity. It was freezing cold. And we were laughing at ourselves and huddling for warmth. We were walking in back and forth on the street to kill time, taking our huge backpacks off and putting them back on, muttering under our breath in frustration and gazing dumbly at the bus route map. It made zero sense, and things always make sense in Sweden. It was part of the adventure though.

The bus finally came and we struggled to keep our eyes open as we headed toward Stockholm Central Station. We were NOT going to fall asleep and miss our stop. Nuh-uh. When we made it to that station we knew we were pressed for time, but we didn't realize how much. We knew we had to run though, so we bolted as fast as you can when you are wearing a huge backpack with a sleeping bag attached to your back.

The moment we ran into the station, we saw that our train toward the airport was leaving in one minute. We freaked out and hurried even faster. We were panicking. I did not believe we would make it. The moment we reached the platform, those train doors were open and I knew they wouldn't stay that way for very long. We just barely made it. What a relief.

Photo by Flore D.

The weekend that followed was amazing and perfect in almost every way. We took a seven hour train from Oslo to Bergen for less than the price of the Norway in a Nutshell trip that visitors often take. It was beautiful. My friend from Mexico saw snow for the first time and I got to see the smile on her face. We took fantastic pictures of people and the scenery. There were trees everywhere and it reminded me of the pacific northwestern United States--a mini Portland or Seattle. We met some wonderful friends who were kind enough to let us sleep on their floors for two nights. Someone even let me use his hiking boots and waterproof pants, and someone else let me use her backpack. In fact, the backback I brought to Norway and the jacket I was wearing were borrowed as well.

We, an American, a Mexican, a Frenchwoman, a Czech and our Italian host, hiked 600 meters up the Ulriken trail, ate bread with peanut butter and Nutella in the rain and fog, and learned what it really means to be soaking wet. At the top of the mountain, I felt some of the most extreme wind I have ever felt in my life and witnessed some of the most beautiful nature I have ever seen. We found geocaches, had a pillow fight with a group of exchange students studying in Bergen, watched Harry Potter, ate cinnamon buns, saw trolls and fairy-tale houses, changed the clock back an hour, watched a Spanish and Australian guy saran wrap our friend's toilet as a prank, and laughed super hard as we crammed about nine of us into a tiny elevator and taped a split image of a guy's face on the door so that it would come together when the doors closed.

I just want to say thank you to the kind person who let two of us sleep on his floor. Thank you for being such an awesome host. I also want to thank the students in Bergen for being so awesome to us and making us feel included in their antics. You are welcome to Stockholm anytime.


Trips never go how you expect them to go and sometimes they can start out stressful. That's the thing about travel though--don't expect things to happen the way you planned because they never do. That is not why we travel. We travel to laugh. We travel to learn. We travel so that we can get into ridiculous situations like changing your shirt on top of a cold, windy mountain or pretending to be a giant caterpillar while rolling around inside a sleeping bag. Mostly, we travel because of people--from the special encounters we have with total strangers, to the friends we meet that make our world grow and shrink at the same time.

As our Italian friend said, "Places don't make you happy. People do it."

What Do Amusement Parks and Laundry Rooms Have in Common?

 I already told you about my first big culture shock moment: when I found out that most public restrooms cost five or ten crowns.

My second biggest culture shock: I have to book laundry time? What?

In most apartment complexes in the U.S., you either have your own washing machine or a community laundry room. In some cases, you go to the laundromat. But usually when there is a community laundry room, you just waltz in whenever you please and start your laundry. If there is someone else in there, you just say "Hello there" and continue what you are doing.

This is not how it works in Sweden. Laundry time is important stuff. This is pretty much sacred to Swedish people. In Sweden, it is not just laundry time. It is your laundry time. You can be alone in the room. You don't have to socialize or interact with anyone. You can hang out, listen to music, read books, do whatever you want. This is your time to relax. And if someone else steals your time or takes too long on theirs, that is not okay. It's just wrong. It has to be fair. Everyone should have an equal amount of laundry time.

 In my apartment building you have to use your electronic key to activate this little machine outside the laundry room, and then you book a three-hour window. You usually have to book days in advance. If you're out of clean underwear, you are also out of luck. Unless of course you have a nice friend who will let you throw your stuff in with theirs.

Actually, that's exactly what happened when I was doing my laundry last week. A friend was like, "Eden, I am desperate. Can I wash my underwear with your laundry load?" So of course I helped him out because it really wasn't a big deal. Then we left the room and I went to hang out with friends. 45 minutes later, I get a call from my friend saying "uh, Eden, the laundry room is going to close in two minutes." I started swearing in Swedish (which is funny, because Swedish swear words are so mild that children can say them) and I ran as fast as possible across the yard until I got into my building. I just barely made it on time. See, at 10 pm, the laundry room locks. So good luck getting your stuff out in the morning, since you haven't booked the room for yourself.

 This is stressful to me. I do not like to book things such as laundry in advance. I like to just go with the flow, and go do stuff when I feel like it is the right time. This is not the Swedish way, and I need to get used to the Swedish way. I know I will soon enough.

"Take a number." This is found everywhere. At the help desk at IKEA, at the IT center at the university, even in this electronics store. You don't have to stand in line, and it is very fair. You will get a turn.

Sweden is a culture of schedules, punctuality, and fairness. You need to know what you will do and when. You need to know you will be comfortable. You need to know exactly what time the bus will come. And you nearly always do. At most bus stops, there is a clock that shows how many minutes until the bus arrives, and 99.9% of the time, it is correct. I asked someone who has lived here for a long time how they know that the bus will be on time. He told me that they frequently install GPS systems into the buses that communicate with the timers at the bus stops, so you know in how many minutes the bus will be there.

Things are very categorized and organized, such as in this fast food restaurant disposal station.

"Thank you for cleaning up after yourself." Different things are put in different places.

These ramps are found everywhere. It makes it really easy for fathers on paternity leave to push their kids around in their strollers while their wives are busy at work.

 You see now how important organization is to Swedes? But that is what makes things so convenient in this society. Things are orderly and predictable. Things fit together. Everything functions like a clock, with cogs meshing together in the most efficient manner possible.

Another way to illustrate this point is the amusement park I recently visited called Gröna Lund. It was so much fun...and it was also the most compact amusement park I have ever seen. Everything was so close together. There were roller coasters nearly intersecting other roller coasters. Right underneath one ride was a restaurant over which another roller coaster's tracks were built very closely. It was crazy, and yet everything was safe. No one would hit anything or get hurt because all the measurements were made correctly. The longest time I ever waited in line there was about 35 minutes. Usually I would only wait about 10 or 15 minutes. It was the most efficient amusement park I've ever seen.

Gröna Lund was expensive, but worth it. My friends and I went on a drop tower fall ride which shot us up really fast, and then after going up and down, took us to the top. Our legs were dangling and we were terrified. We were going higher and higher. But right as we hit the top, the view was wonderful. It was the evening, and we could look across the water and see Stockholm in all its beauty. The moon was huge and bright. It was absolutely perfect. And then we screamed as we plunged toward the ground.

Gröna Lund! The tall tower on the left is my favorite.

As a bonus, here is a photo of stalls in a unisex restroom. These are very common in Sweden.

Sweden is very different from the U.S. in many ways, but that is part of the adventure. Until next time.

Homesick?

I'm feeling homesick. What the heck is this? This never happens to me.

I've always been Eden the adventurer. Eden the explorer. Eden the one who can't hold still. The one who went to Bangkok not knowing where she'd sleep that night. The one who gets antsy if she stays in the same place for too long. I have only been here for six days. I don't do "homesick."

And yet here I am, sitting here in my IKEA room on my IKEA bed covered by IKEA sheets, homesick. I'm sitting next to my IKEA nightstand which is already covered in stuff--a hair tie, a frog necklace that someone I really care about gave to me, my now-unlocked cell phone with a Comviq SIM card in it, a copy of Bhagavad Gita and my login credentials for the local university. And I'm going to be here for an entire school year.

My nails are long because I forgot to pack nail clippers and the only ones I could find at a local store cost about $11 worth in Swedish crowns and I refuse to spend that much without looking elsewhere first. My wi-fi signal is spotty at best. I hate cooking and I'm in denial about the fact that I have to learn to like it. I broke my headphones so I'm listening to music with the free ones Delta Airlines gave me. But these are all first world problems. I have it easy--pretty much everyone here speaks my native language, and I even speak the local language. I am not the homeless man I saw at the train station today, nor am I one of the numerous refugees who came here from some war-torn region and has had to learn Swedish or English to survive. I'm just an exchange student.

In order to survive mentally and spiritually, I'm going to have to make my home here for now. I'm going to have to make close friends and practice other people's languages and learn the metric system. Of course I expected those things, but I did not expect that I would actually be nervous and even lonely. This is not what I expected at all when I dreamed of coming here.

But I guess it's the unexpected things that make us grow the most. For wise people have always said that courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the ability to be afraid and go on anyway with enthusiasm. In the spirit of Ralph, an adventurous professor of mine who recently passed away, I will press on and learn everything I can from this experience. I terribly miss the people I love back in the US of A, but I wouldn't trade this next year of my life for the world.

Next time I return to this beautiful, green, happy, Nordic country, I want to bring someone I love with me. For now, adventure awaits.

First Impressions

There is so much to take in. I have learned so much in the past few days that I can't even keep track of everything. Sweden is amazing. I've finally moved in to my flat and met my roommate. She is from Mexico and is awesome. We took a trip to IKEA to buy some stuff for our room. You think your local IKEA is big? No. Let me tell you, this is the biggest IKEA I have ever seen in my life. I'm pretty sure there is an entire block (or something close to that) dedicated to this IKEA. And there is not just one little restaurant area, but a coffee shop as you walk in, a cafe in the middle, and a cafe on the way out.

I've figured out the public transportation, and man is it amazing. It's so efficient and fast and available. I bought a blue access card, which can get me onto the pendeltåg (commuter train), metro, buses, and even some boats. They make it super easy for you to get where you're going, even if you have a baby stroller with you or a suitcase. By almost every staircase, there is either an elevator or two ramps fixed onto the stairs--one for each wheel. This makes me really wish we had better public transit in the US.

 The other night we went to Stockholm with one of our neighbors who is an immigrant from India. He showed us around the city and got us into a night club. I am normally not a fan of loud places but this club was fun. It was Latin night so there was a lot of Latin American music. Most of the people there were around my age and were from all over the world. I met someone from Tanzania and someone from Germany. I try to use Swedish as much as possible, but I have actually used English much more often.

 

My first geocache ever found in another country. :)

Last night I met some Swedish people who were celebrating a crayfish party in my building. They invited me to eat some pie with them. It was a lot of fun talking to them.

My one complaint about Sweden, or at least the part I live in, is that it is so difficult to find a public restroom you can use for free. Seriously? In the USA when you need to use the bathroom you can go to a store, a mall, a theater, a gas station, most parks, most bus stations, anywhere. As much as Sweden supports human rights, they seem to not think it should be a basic human right to be able to pee for free anywhere except your own flat. Lots of Europe is this way I think.

Those are the highlights for now. I'll go more into depth next time.

Here I am.

I am sitting here on my hostel bed, feeling like a zombie. It is 9:33 pm and I have only slept for maybe an hour during my entire journey. I am sharing a room with about 13 other people I have never met before. They are from all over the world. Some of them are whispering in French and laughing about something silly. Little do they realize that I have been listening to their conversations.

Ever since I was 16, I have wanted to be an exchange student in Sweden, and it's finally coming true. Back when I was 14, I started to teach myself Swedish. When I was 15, I was privileged enough to get to stay with friends who live here for a couple weeks. Now I am nearly 22, and I will be staying for almost a year.

This is me the first time I went to Sweden:

First time I ever left the USA. Picture by Kenneth Cope.

This is the second time:

picture by Kenneth Cope

When I first got here, I was even more like a zombie, except a ridiculous one pulling two huge bags. I always like to say I'm a frequent traveler and pride myself on packing light, but this is not light at all. It's rather embarrassing how clumsy I looked carrying these huge things with me through the train stations. As I was muscling my way down an escalator with a bag in each arm, and a nice stranger helped me out. Ha en bra dag, he said. Du också, I replied.

Just a few hours ago, I ate dinner here at the hostel. They offer complimentary pasta, coffee, tea, and random food items that guests leave behind. I was really hungry and decided to do what some other guests were doing: mix pasta with cheese and ketchup. Not the best meal ever, but I just really wanted to eat whatever I could get my hands on. Right as I finished a plate, this nice Brazilian lady asked me if I wanted what she and her husband were making--fried mushrooms, onions, tomatoes, and meat. That was such a nice offer that I couldn't turn it down, and even though I didn't eat the meat I really enjoyed those mushrooms. That was seriously so nice of her.

When you first arrive in another country, it feels like you're in a magical land, which is completely silly because it isn't magical at all to most of the people living there. I think it's the newness that surrounds you mixed with the exhaustion of being on plane after plane for a day straight. Having said that, Sweden is magical. Seriously, people are so nice and everything looks like it was designed by IKEA. I wish I had something more substantial to back up my "Sweden is magical" statement but you'll just have to trust me on this one. It just feels new and exciting and almost unreal.

The lesson I learned today was that you can never underestimate the kindness of strangers. I'll say something more meaningful when I'm more awake. Time to get some shut eye. Good night.