I arrived in Norway after a 4 hour bus ride. Norway is in the Schengen region, which consists of 26 countries through which people may travel freely once entered. I was surprised when border patrol boarded the bus to check our passports and took a dozen people off the bus to customs. I was reminded at this time of my learned distrust for government authority figures. I felt compelled to ask where they were taking the people they pulled off our bus, but no one else seemed perturbed by it so I told myself to relax.
When I got off the bus I went first to the tourist information station. I was advised to buy a single-way ticket for the tram that would take me to the neighborhood where I would meet my host. I hopped on the tram and congratulated myself on working out public transit in a foreign country. A minute later, traffic control officers came aboard and started checking tickets. My stomach tensed up at the sight of the officers. I handed them my tram ticket, aware that I had to get off at the next stop, hoping the interaction would be quick and painless.
The man scanned my ticket and said something to me in Norwegian, to which I replied with measured calmness, "I'm sorry, I don't speak the language."
"Your ticket isn't valid," he said.
"But I bought it at central station less than 10 minutes ago."
"You didn't activate it. You must activate the ticket when you board."
Just then, the tram stopped at my destination. "This is my stop," I told him, and lending from my civil rights education I asked, "am I free to go?"
"No," he said, "you'll have to stay on until I've written your ticket."
"I didn't know it had to be activated," I said, feeling very triggered by the interaction and the temporary loss of freedom. "I just got into Norway minutes ago. I bought the tram ticket because I meant to pay, I just didn't know to activate it."
"I need to see your identification," he said abruptly.
I handed him my California drivers license, and felt increasing panic as he wrote out the ticket- "Surname: Snow; First Name: Jaclyn; Middle Name: Adventure."
The man next to me, who was also being ticketed, must have noticed the tears in my eyes because he told me, "It's okay, don't worry, you can go to the traffic office first thing tomorrow to fight it." The traffic officer writing his ticket said something to him in Norwegian. The passenger turned back to me with a smile and said, "you don't have to pay!"
"It's okay," I told him, "I'm okay." I couldn't explain to him that I wasn't so upset about paying a ticket as I was to be trapped in this situation.
"Don't worry, you don't have to pay," he called out again as he stepped off the tram.
A minute later, the officer finished writing my ticket and asked me to sign it. At this point, I was holding onto my composure by a thread as I felt the stirring of an oncoming panic attack. I focused on breathing and feeling my safety in the space. My instinctive fear of officers is not without reason, but it is inconvenient.
The officer tore off the ticket and handed it to me, saying "this is just a warning. You don't have to pay as long as it doesn't happen again." I think he expected me to cheer up and thank him at this point. He could tell I was pretty shaken so he repeated, "it's okay, you don't have to pay anything."
"How do I activate the ticket?" I asked in a throaty voice, due to the frog I apparently swallowed. He smiled in a way that was supposed to be comforting and showed me how to activate it. As I got off the cursed tram he waved to me and said, "good luck, enjoy Oslo!"
No one else was at the tram stop and it was 10 minutes until the next tram, so I let myself cry for a minute before I gathered myself. I felt ashamed for having such an intense reaction. I took the next minute to forgive myself for starting to panic. I felt glad for the hard work I put into therapy to treat PTSD so that I can keep it relatively together when I'm triggered, and bring myself back down afterward.
One of my biggest concerns about traveling solo was that I would have a panic attack and be unable to regain control without external help. This situation provided me with a baseline to know how I might react to future triggers. It wasn't easy or fun, but I did ward off a full fledged panic attack, and bring myself back down afterward within 10 minutes.
I stepped on to the correct train, with my activated tram ticket. I took it back to the stop by the cafe where I was supposed to meet my host an hour ago. I used the cafe's wifi to message him that I was there, sat down to pet a puppy, and ten minutes later received the message that he was inside.
We greeted with a warm hug and walked to his apartment which was only ten minutes away. As we walked he pointed out the bus stops that would take me anywhere I wanted to go the next few days. The apartment is beautiful, and it's so nice to have my own room with a full sized bed and a clean shower after all the time I've spent in grungy hostels. Also, the bathroom floor is heated (!!!!!) which is apparently normal in Norway.
After I settled in, I sat with him on the couch and we talked for 3 hours straight. He gave me all the insider tips for Oslo- a website of events, an app to buy bus tickets, a review of all the good places to go, how to get there, and how I might group them together to maximize my time here. We spoke about politics (his wife is American so he is well-versed in our politics, and a big supporter of Bernie Sanders!), the education system (he's a professor), travel, family, resilience, fear, physical and mental health, diversity, social services, comedy, culture, and more. I could tell from our brief interaction on the airplane that he is intelligent and trustworthy, but I was especially impressed during this conversation by his moral fortitude, and I gained strength from it. I went to bed feeling very glad to have changed my plans to come to Norway.
My first day in Oslo I walked 20km, exploring as much of the city as daylight would allow. I saw many of the big sights: Karl Johans Gate (supposedly the main street, but more like a tourist trap), Akershus Castle and Fortress, Harbor Promenade, the National Opera and Ballet, Nobel Peace Center (there was a slack line outside also that I spent about 20 minutes falling off of before successfully crossing, which that turned out to be a successful way to meet people), Oslo Fjord, the Royal Palace, Damstredet (a cutesy old street), Oslo Cathedral, the National Theatre, the mini-bottle gallery, the barcode buildings, and every art installation I could find on the way there and back. I absolutely love how many public art installations there are to be found walking around this city. As the sun began to set I met back up with one of the guys I met slack lining, and he took me to Ekeberg park, which has many feminist statues, art installations, and incredible views as the sky changed colors.
Afterward he asked what I felt like for dinner, and I said I wanted to try traditional Norwegian food. He took me to a restaurant called Schrøder, which has been around since 1926. He showed me which dishes were traditional food, and I was taken aback by the prices. When he asked what I'd order I pointed out an appetizer salad. He told me it's not traditional Norwegian food, and I explained that it's what I could afford on my budget. He said "don't worry about it," and ordered me a dish that translates to "hot Christmas platter," which happened to be one of the most expensive thing on the menu. It is served with ribs (unlike any I've had in the states, it was more like thick cut bacon), "Christmas sausages," a meatball, red cabbage, lingonberry sauce and boiled potatoes. Of course, I put a picture of it on facebook for reference! By the end of the meal I felt that I had consumed roughly five animals, and they were all delicious. I went back to the apartment and fell into a food coma until late the next morning.
I went to a local cafe in the morning, where I met someone with whom to have fika! Afterward I headed to Vigesland park, which is an absolutely incredible sculpture garden. I brought my art supplies, and spent the entire day walking around, admiring the art, taking photographs, sketching/painting some, and writing a couple of postcards to send back home.
For dinner I met with a preschool teacher I had connected with online at a restaurant called Smalhans. We decided to share the "smalhans special" even though the waiter recommended we order one each, but it was the perfect amount. There were two appetizers, two entrees, and a dessert. The first appetizer was haddock with red cabbage and some kind of wonderful sauce, the second was shredded cucumber with dill. One of the entrees was a pumpkin mousse with chunks of pumpkin and roasted pumpkin seeds, and the other was locally raised pork with a honey and beer sauce. For dessert we were each given a chocolate fondant with caramel inside, and a spoonful of homemade cranberry ice cream. It was about as expensive as dinner the night before and I reached for my wallet when the bill came, but he insisted on paying in full ("because Norway is one of the richest countries in the world, and you're backpacking. Buy some Norwegian a nice meal when they visit San Francisco"). We had a great conversation comparing and contrasting early childhood education in Norway and the U.S. Back at the apartment I met up with my host and we stayed up until the early hours having another wonderful conversation.
Today is my last day in Oslo. I've spent the first half of the day at the apartment doing my laundry (I never know when I'll get another opportunity) and writing this blog. Soon I intend to go to the Edvard Munch museum where I can see "The Scream," which has long been one of my favorite paintings. Later I'll go to see the ski jump which I'll admit I don't totally understand, but everyone I've spoken to here says I have to see it, so I will. Then tomorrow, on to Copenhagen!