or rather, a small city on a fjord.
the city, sans nuages. the days Oslo it’s sunny, it’s gorgeous. sitting on the grass-covered walls of the fortress, looking over the finest parts of Oslo and the fjord with it’s little islands with their little summer homes, hearing the ships tooting, never mind the “grass” having turned to hay and still being a bit damp after a long winter. there’s nothing an Indonesian sarong couldn’t fix there.
the atmosphere. people don’t seem afraid here, and even though i unfortunately don’t know a lot about Norwegian politics, I’m dreading going back to the society I came from, which seems pervaded with fear of made-up or ridiculously inflated problems. no seeping here.
my life. I’ve changed here. gotten the bloated perception I can do anything I want, with the caveat, I only have to want the right things.
what I will take home with me from Oslo: brown cheese. yes, most definitely. I know we started off on the wrong foot, me thinking I was buying actual cheese and all, really good deal at the 10kr-marked, and then it turned out- the “cheese” was sweet. I came around. it just has to be eaten with jam and waffles. Norwegian. the language. even though I don’t speak it as fluently as my other languages, I’m willing to continue trying. I’m just charmed by how sweetly they will sing “heihei” at you, and that “bye” is “ha det bra”- mach’s gut (roughly, take care, more literally, do well, have a good time, etc.). inspiration and passion, which might fade pretty quickly seen as I’ll be swamped with work on arrival, but right now I can still feel it, and I’ve found my passion in refugee law. det var det.