One year ago

May 12th 2011 marks one year since I started this blog—a happy anniversary to be sure. I have often commented throughout this past year that this blog is a labor of love, and it remains so. I enjoy writing it, and even though there are times when it seems as though I’ve hit a dry spell, ideas and thoughts come flooding back after a few days. The experience of hitting the dry spells followed by the creative periods or vice versa has been a good reminder about the importance of patience and of learning to live one day at a time. It has also been a reminder not to worry too much about the actual process of writing. I actually knew this from before, because I have been writing poetry for years, and can attest to the fact that inspiration ebbs and flows like the tides, and sometimes does seem to come out of nowhere. But of course I know that there are a lot of things always going on in my subconscious, and that ideas and thoughts can suddenly bubble up to the surface of my consciousness, and then it’s up to me to grab them and to make something of them. It is a challenge these days, amid all the stress at work, to grab a hold of as many ideas as possible. Because one thing is certain, ideas come and go, but when they go, it is almost impossible to get them back in the form in which they first appeared. You lose the specific angle, the edge, the tone of the idea or thought you wished to present. It is frustrating when that happens, and is why I carry a notebook with me so that I can jot down ideas as they arise.

On May 12^th of last year, I attended a Town Hall meeting at the Hotel Bristol in downtown Oslo arranged by the American Embassy. It was the myriad of feelings resulting from that meeting that led to the desire to write a blog, to share my thoughts and feelings about being a New Yorker (and an American) in Oslo. I have realized that writing this blog has helped me reclaim my identity as an American. It is easy to lose one’s identity in a foreign country. You speak, write and read another language that is not your own. You must communicate with others in a language that is not your own. You risk misinterpreting what others mean because you do not understand the nuances in this new language. You risk saying things in the wrong way so that others misinterpret you.  In the beginning, it is challenging and fun to live behind the mask of a new culture and language; it can become exhausting to do so and ultimately unnecessary. No one in this country is expecting me to be Norwegian; it is my own impossible expectations that I had to fit into this culture that have made me tired at times. I am sure if I had been easier on myself that I would be less tired now. I would not have fit in any better, but I would have more energy!

A lot has happened during this past year. Perhaps the saddest event was the death of my friend and colleague, the American woman who attended the Town Hall meeting with me. We always enjoyed doing such things together as Americans in Oslo. It is only now that I am beginning to understand how much I miss her. And I see that my workplace misses her too. People are part of our lives, and then they are not. The contrast is blinding at times, like intense sunlight. Another reminder to ‘see’ the people who are in our lives—to not take them for granted.

I watched a very good film recently on TCM—The Straight Story. I recommend it highly. It is the moving story of an old man who sets out on a journey to visit his estranged brother whom he has not seen or talked to in ten years. It is based on the true-life story of Alvin Straight who traveled from Iowa to Wisconsin to visit his brother Lyle who had recently suffered a stroke. What makes the trip unique is that he makes the journey on a tractor, and travels through parts of the USA that seem to have been untouched by the passage of time. He meets truly friendly people along the way—who help him when his tractor breaks down and who share small parts of their lives with him. The film is made all the more touching by the fact that the actor who played Alvin--Richard Farnsworth--was terminally ill with cancer when he made the film. He committed suicide about a year after the film was released. His physical problems in the film were in fact real—he had problems walking and was in a lot of pain. His film ‘journey’ was his last journey—his confrontation with his own aging and mortality. It must have been incredibly difficult for him to make the film, and yet he did. You can see all of the different emotions he must have been experiencing so clearly in his face. There are very few films that make me really cry, that touch a really deep part of me—this was one of them. Watching it was yet another reminder about how the movement toward forgiveness of self and of others is one of the most difficult journeys we make in this life. It is the most important journey of all. 

#1--American Embassy Town Hall Meeting in Oslo

This is my first blog ever as an expatriate living in Oslo Norway. I have lived here for twenty years and decided tonight, after attending a Town Hall meeting at the beautiful Hotel Bristol arranged by the American Embassy, to start writing a blog about my experiences living here in Norway. I think I have some ‘street credibility’—twenty years in one place will give you that.

Well, what is the definition of an expatriate? It simply means someone who has left his or her own country and moved to another, and lived there for a while. It doesn’t mean that I have given up my American citizenship. I would never do that. Norway does not allow dual-citizenship, so if I became a Norwegian citizen I would have to renounce my American citizenship. Not likely. The USA allows multiple citizenships. I’ve got to wonder why Norway doesn’t.

Well, tonight the American Embassy officials did something they have never done in the twenty years I’ve lived here. They actually invited American citizens to a town hall meeting to present themselves, what they do, and how they can be of service to us. It was a good meeting, inspired no doubt by the openness of Obama’s White House. Most of my meetings with the embassy up to this point have left me with a cold feeling. It’s not that the embassy workers have been rude; it’s just that they’ve never been friendly. I can only remember one time in all my years here where the American Embassy sponsored a cocktail party to welcome the American company BioRad to Norway. Both Norwegians and Americans were invited to that party. It was held at the ambassador’s personal residence and was a very nice affair. But tonight was different. The feeling in the air was different. It was a good feeling, a friendly feeling. People were laughing and talking together and having a good time.

It was good to be together with Americans again. I have to say I just miss hearing English at times. My language—and the sense of humor that is uniquely American—that combination of self-deprecation, sarcasm, joking, lightness that just makes one feel right at home. It puts you at ease and that’s a good thing. Americans are friendly people. No matter what you may think about the superficiality of that friendliness, it helps strangers break the ice and gets them over that initial wall of social awkwardness.

Some of the attendees got up and asked questions at the end of the meeting. Some of them had comments about their negative experiences in Norway. I had to laugh. One fellow got up and told us about how Norway wouldn’t accept his law degree from a top school in the USA. I remember how my Master’s degree in cell biology from New York University was downgraded almost upon my arrival here in this country. My education had to be evaluated by a formal committee which concluded that a Master’s degree from anywhere in the USA was simply not equivalent to the Norwegian version of a Master’s degree—called a cand.scient. That was in 1990. How odd that twenty years later, the country is only interested in offering Master’s degrees and PhD degrees. No more cand.scient or dr.philos. or dr.scient or dr. med. In a country of 4.5 million people, it boggles my mind that there have been so many degrees offered. The rest of the world simply could not begin to understand how complicated the educational system here really was. Thank God it is becoming more streamlined.

I could write a book about my experiences here after twenty years. Perhaps I will one day. Right now, I am going to write a blog and I hope that you enjoy reading it.