These extremes are magnified through the eyes of an expatriate. Each time I have spent an extended period of time in a new place, my inner barometer is completely out of whack. This makes for daily extreme highs and extreme lows in an extreme place.
Case in point: the bus. Public transportation isn’t something I would typically get worked up about in the U.S. In Norway, public transportation is simply at a different level than what we know in the States. Everything runs on time, and you can get virtually anywhere without a car. This is a good thing! Yet, I have wept tears of frustration over the bus on bad days. I have wanted to hug bus drivers on good days. The bus has sent my mood meter to extreme places.
Let me provide you with a little bit of context. We live on a beautiful peninsula, Nesodden, just on the other side of the fjord from Oslo. There are a lot of benefits to living in Nesodden because we can enjoy Norway’s natural beauty but are also relatively close to the city. We have a short but uphill walk to the bus, which comes every hour. After a five-minute ride, the bus drops us off at the dock for the 22-minute boat trip across the fjord to Oslo. On the handful of occasions that I’ve gone from my house to Oslo on my own, I’ve loved the trip. The boat ride is beautiful, and the public transportation system in Norway is clean, efficient, punctual, and perfectly coordinated. Enjoying the scenery and feeling privileged that I have the opportunity to experience a different place has been the source of an “extreme high.”
When I’m not alone, however, there is a major roadblock standing between my love of efficient and punctual public services and me: my two toddlers. It’s probably not fair to blame my extreme feelings on my kids, but in this particular case, it’s totally their fault. No matter how much I plot and plan and strategize (and bribe them) to get out of the door so we don’t miss the ever-punctual bus (remember, it comes once every hour), we are always running late and often catch the bus with seconds to spare. I always leave a 20-minute time cushion that invariably is eaten up by someone’s refusal to get into the stroller because he wants to walk “like Daddy does it” or someone’s desire to catch every snowflake on his tongue because he’s “thirsty.”
One rainy day shortly after we arrived, we missed the bus by seconds. I did what any reasonable woman would do: I called my husband and proceeded to cry. I used to miss the bus all of the time in Boston, but it never drove me to tears. My kids were a bit confused, and while I’m sure I haven’t emotionally scarred them, they bring it up all of the time. Since this episode, whenever tell my boys to “hurry up or we’ll miss the bus,” one of them invariably adds, “yeah, or Mommy will cry.” Thanks, guys.
This week, the bus almost drove me to tears again…but the good kind of tears. I was running after the bus, late as usual, arms flailing and everything, and the bus driver actually waited for us to cross the street to hop on. Maybe he was running ahead of schedule or maybe he was just a nice guy. This made my week! I didn’t know even how to properly thank the bus driver. I wanted to get his address so I could send him brownies or invite him and his family to our house for dinner. It sounds crazy, but it’s one of the best memories I’ve had since we arrived. It was the highest of all “extreme highs.”
And you? What can bring you to extremes?
About the Author:
Jennie is a development/non-profit generalist who has focused much of her career on human rights. She is currently living in Oslo, Norway with her husband, Bady, and their two boys, Ghibriel and Baillo. In Jennie's spare time, she enjoys cooking and reading. Jennie has know Catherine since high school, when they met in homeroom. (We met because I complimented Jennie on her cool lipstick! She's been my cool friend ever since. xoxo Catherine)
whenever tell my boys to “hurry up or we’ll miss the bus,” one of them invariably adds, “yeah, or Mommy will cry.” Thanks, guys.
ReplyDeleteHa ha, too funny.