Pazīstams, bet atšķirīgs + Cabintrip 2.0

As I stroll through a CoopExtra supermarket, I notice that it feels just like wandering through my local Rewe or Edeka. Apart from the prices and the ubiquitous question of where to spend my hard-earned euros/kroner next. But aside from the prices and, of course, the Norwegian product descriptions, it feels like I've been shopping like this my whole life. The Norwegian words needed to understand the supermarket offerings are quickly understood. Almost boring. No foreign products where you can't recognize what you're actually holding in your hand from the picture or text. No communication problems and using hand and foot to extract a bit of information from the staff (everyone speaks English perfectly). Same refrigerated counters, same shelf structure - even the behavior of the people in the supermarket is all too familiar. Only the toilet paper frenzy doesn't seem to be as pronounced.

It's only when I leave the store and look north across the Trondheim Fjord, seeing the mountains directly by the water in the distance, that I realize I'm actually somewhere else. The days are returning to "normal" as well. The equinox is today, and we're rapidly approaching the midnight sun. Party time in Norway. If COVID allows it...

By now, I also know my roommates quite well, and without patting my own back too much: since I've been here, Clas, our "oldest resident," has told me that the other roommates also talk more to each other. Otherwise, it seems they were just living "side by side." Clas has also provided me the opportunity to obtain some Norwegian moonshine. A liter for only €22, which is a good price-performance ratio considering it has an alcohol content of up to 95%.

I've also noticed that Norwegians are very specialized in TV series, no matter which streaming platform. Since I can't compete with my expertise in this area, occasionally this leads to me being forced to watch one of the popular series in the evenings. Interestingly, people here in Norway generally only watch them in English. When I explained that in Germany it's normal to receive movies and series dubbed in German, my roommates were not only little surprised. In fact, the idea of watching movies and series in the national language seems absurd to them. They're only used to Norwegian subtitles, and due to their good understanding of English, they don't need anything more.

The language similarities with other Scandinavian countries like Denmark and Sweden are also always very interesting to follow. The people from these three countries can largely communicate with each other without problems, although the differences between them can be compared more to the differences between two pronounced German dialects. However, Icelanders have trouble understanding Norwegians, and vice versa it apparently doesn't work at all. Since Iceland was settled a very long time ago and the language hasn't changed much due to its isolation, the most authentic Old Norse Viking language can be found there. The language of mainland Scandinavia has undergone more influences throughout history, especially due to its historical affiliation with Denmark. This was also felt by the Icelandic woman who was part of a small Norwegian party evening in our apartment. She and I were the only international students in the group, and as the evening went on and the alcohol consumption increased, the Norwegians increasingly switched from English to drunken Norwegian, which overwhelmed both of us. However, the surprise and admiration when I beat my Norwegian opponents in beer pong was clearly felt despite the language barrier.🤷‍♂️

In early March, another cabin trip was on the horizon. Even though the burned-down sauna was not yet completely rebuilt (apparently saunas in student cabins burn down every few years, sometimes because people try to roast whole turkeys on the sauna stove...), the cabin still felt like a very cozy weekend getaway. Being the one with a car, I took care of most of the logistical planning. That meant getting 10 people to the cabin and back from the cabin to Trondheim. Including food and various items for sleeping and hiking. On the way to the cabin, I came up with the brilliant idea of ignoring the cabin team's parking recommendation and trying to see how far I could get on a muddy forest road with a fully loaded car. It was not a good idea. Steep uphill, steep downhill, and with curves. After getting stuck for the third time, I reluctantly handed over the wheel to a Norwegian who was promoted from passenger to temporary driver. And I learned a few things. First: no more driving on unprepared forest roads with slushy snow, and second: if the first one does happen, speed is the key! With stomach-cramping speed (30 km/h!!!), Louis flew over the snowy rising and falling forest path. When we finally reached a less tight spot where turning in 9 maneuvers was possible, it was visibly difficult for me to relax from the passenger seat. So I dropped off my passengers so they could warm up the cabin and set off alone on the return journey along the forest road. Thanks to my newly acquired knowledge, there were no special events, but there was plenty of speed and a sky-high adrenaline level.

The cabin weekend was mostly relaxed after that. The highlight was the hike to a nearby mountain ridge the next day. In winter, simply walking through a snowy forest off the beaten path is a special kind of hiking. Up and down hills through deeper and deeper snow, with occasional downhill slides. In flatter terrain, walking one after the other through the snow while walking in the footsteps of the person in front of you to save energy becomes hypnotic, almost meditative with time. It brings a unique calmness. The closer we got to the ridge, the deeper the snow awaited us, and we often found ourselves surprised, sinking up to our hips in the snow. However, since a moderate blizzard had been forecasted for this day and our progress was getting slower and slower, we had to turn back prematurely. On the descent, the wind became increasingly stiff, and snowdrifts raced ahead of us across the clearings and the world. A breathtaking surreal spectacle, like something out of a movie. Occasionally, the cloud cover would open up, revealing the bluest strip of sky, and the afternoon sun would bathe the snowy forest in golden light for a minute before the clouds driven by the storm closed the gap again. With increasing twilight, there was still one task left. Getting the spices we had forgotten to bring. While the rest of the crew marched back to the cabin, I drove to the nearest market. The snowstorm on the way there and back intensified, creating a ghostly atmosphere on the empty streets in the onset of darkness. Only the 45-minute walk back to the cabin remained. Equipped with a strong headlamp, finding the way on the forest path wasn't a big problem at first. Only the silence and the branches swaying in the wind at the edge of the illuminated field of view occasionally sent shivers down my spine. However, the second half of the way was hit by the snowstorm again, and thick flakes, illuminated by the beam of light, provided almost complete loss of visibility in the darkness due to the glare. Reluctantly, I had to resort to my last rescue tool... Google Maps. No problem thanks to excellent connection. Shortly after arriving in the cabin, I was greeted by a cozy warm stove and shortly after that, perfectly seasoned Indian rice curry.

The Easter holidays are coming up soon, and another "trip" is being planned. But this time it will be of a completely different magnitude.

Until next time.