The Trek

I do stuff like … go skiing in Norway.

But that’s not what I’m going to tell you about right now. This is going to be an attempt to give you a visual of what I experience on my walk to school. I’ve become fond of bundling up like a child going out to play in the snow; that is until I get into the snow. Scanning the parking lot from the front door in the morning after a night of endless snowfall is like looking out onto a white desert. Even with my spectacles on I can’t distinguish between drifts of snow or actual objects such as bikes and cars. I push the little green button and the door mechanically swings open. With my first step out my glasses are overcome with fog and I have to take them off to be able to see anything, the astronomical snowflakes hit my face and immediately melt causing my skin to be wet and therefore even more cold than it already is.

By the time I reach the corner I have already seen the “primary school” (that’s what Norwegians call Elementary) children making their way to class. By ‘making their way’ to class I don’t mean walking or running or getting off the bus. The children, all of the children regardless of age or size, are cross country skiing to school; hence the reason they don’t have snow days here. There is no need to cancel school due to snow because everyone can just clip on their skis, grab their poles and slide to school. Many of the Norwegians I have questioned about this have said they received their first set of skis when they were two and three years old. (A valid reason I decided why the ten year old that was skiing with me the other day was gliding circles around me as I attempted to climb up the hill with my skis on, but that is another story for another day.)

I get past the school and continue down a path towards the University, I have to stay to the right because on my left are mothers pulling their infants. I have seen strollers here, but they are like strollers with monster wheels, like I’m pretty sure the strollers have an option to flip on four-wheel drive. But most of the mothers I have seen pull their toddlers behind them on sleds. How is this possible on the sidewalk you ask? Great question. They don’t exactly shovel the sidewalk like we would expect in the States. They move some snow around and get quite close to the pavement but there remains a decent layer of snow and ice between your feet and the ground making it more of a glide than an actual walk.

After gigging to myself about the form of child transportation around here I glance up and peer out from under the brim of my frozen hat to see the school off in the distance. My icicle eyelashes become glued to each other every time I blink and the ends (split ends may I add, Haley I need a haircut!) that are sticking out from under my snow covered hat have become pin straight and iced over. At this point my thunder thighs are frosted and numb, that is my cue that I am almost there. When I finally reach my destination and remove a few layers I find that my skin feels like the inside wall of a freezer yet somehow at the same time its perspiring. I obviously have to make a trip to the “toilets” before scampering up to class and being filled with new knowledge. It is a refreshing start to a hectic day.