Martha Holland ’16
Biology Major / Chemistry Minor
University of Oslo, Norway
(Spring 2015)
I arrived in Oslo last January with two suitcases, three granola bars, and the address of my student village written on a piece of paper. In my mind, I was going to get to my flat, make myself a mug of tea, take the bus to Ikea for sheets and towels, and get some much-needed sleep. This plan was far too ambitious for my first day abroad.
When my cab driver said he had to drop me off on a different street because of the snow that was coming down in fat, heavy flakes, I somehow managed to follow his directions to my student village, dragging my bags behind me the whole way. The man who was supposed to let me into my flat was nowhere to be found, so without a working phone, I trudged through the snow for about thirty minutes in the hopes of spotting another person. When the sun went down at three o’clock because it was winter in Oslo, I decided to leave my suitcases in a snow bank. When it sunk in that I hadn’t seen another human being in over an hour, I realized that for the first time in my life I was genuinely alone, in the dark, in a blizzard, in Norway.
I circled back to my bags and knocked on a few doors. Naturally, the next logical course of action was to sit in the snow and cry. I chose to study in Oslo because I wanted an abroad experience that was uniquely mine. I liked that I didn’t have a definitive program, and that I had to coordinate my housing and navigate my stay on my own. My first lesson was that the Scandinavians take their holidays quite seriously. At first, I was always caught off guard when the city shut down for a day, or even a weekend. I was occasionally left without groceries, and ate more frozen waffles during these intervals than I’d like to admit. My second, more important lesson was that so many people are generous and kind if you are willing to ask them for help.
I am not an assertive person; however, when I realized that no one was coming to save me with a Saint Bernard and a canister of hot cocoa, I left my snow bank to find a helping hand if it meant walking three miles to the city center. Finally, by some grand miracle, I ran into two Danish girls who were also international students. Although I’m sure they thought I was truly insane (I was covered in snow and had been crying for roughly two hours), they took my bags and brought me into their flat. They called security, arranged for the delivery of my key, and made sure that I got into my room safely. I slept on top of my mattress in my parka that night, and had breakfast plans by morning. On Monday, I made it to Ikea. I had two new friends.
Students often paint study abroad as a glamorous, transformative experience. I see my time in Oslo as a series of baby steps towards levels of competence and composure I have yet to really achieve. I miss Oslo all the 
time now, and I deeply appreciate the Norwegian notion that a holiday is a holiday, even if silly American girls need to get into their buildings. Weekends in Norway are for family, friends, and the great outdoors. While this kind of schedule is not entirely sustainable at Colby, I’ve tried to weave aspects of Norwegian discipline into my daily life here. I think that it takes a good deal of self-control to focus on just being in nature while I’m in walking the Arboretum or to work efficiently when I’m in the library. I share the story of my arrival because so many first abroad moments that we are presented with come in the form of glossy Instagram photos (see above). I found a home in Oslo, but only after months spent building relationships, falling on black ice, and climbing out of every snow bank I somehow managed to land in.