Chapter XII

July 31, 2014

Oslo

Many days and events followed our return to Blindern from Bergen. There were finals to prepare for, books to finish reading, and sometimes laundry to do. There were museums to return to, lakes to dip feet into, and even terrorist threats to deal with. Sculpture parks to spend all night in, long walks back to campus when the trains stopped running, long discussions (mostly cordial) about the genius of Dostoevsky, Turgenev, Tolstoy, and Lermontov. Going back and forth on the influence of Munch verse Dahl and how much they owe to the Viking period. Scouring the land for the perfect Norwegian sweater. Endlessly tangling with Nietzsche's Dionysian/Apollonian distinctions both in concept and actual life. These things filled the days and nights with content, which at once made the time worth having and made it go by much faster. So with the ending of July came then end of my time in Norway. 

On the last day, I had my final final. It was in a building different to where I attended classes and in order to make sure I would not be late I left early. I found a fellow classmate before I found the building and decided to just follow them and hope for the best. (This did not include clandestinely slinking along in the shadows tailing this poor person, how could you think that.) 

The University of Oslo takes their test-taking practices very seriously and we sat down at widely spaced seats, placed our ID cards in full view, and signed our tests with an assigned anonymous number for fair grading practices. In the student handbook it says that one third of the way through the test the proctors will go around to the students and offer encouragement. I genuinely looked forward to that, but I guess this is one policy that is practiced a little more loosely. In spite of this, I finished in a relatively reasonable amount of time. 

Having finished up with my coursework it was time to gather my belongings together in a compact and customs friendly manner. When I returned to my room, my roommate had already begun the process himself. He had piled all of his things on to the bed and, unfortunately, the pile outsized his one piece of  luggage by at least three times. I can still remember the look on his face when he opened his bag and realized that not only was it three times too small, but it was already full. After some sympathy, I went to lunch. When I returned he had somehow found a way to temporarily suspend the laws of physics and pack everything and I was much impressed. 

That night was a farewell party. It promised to last relatively late into the night. It reminded me of that time three months previously when I was purchasing all my plane tickets for this European excursion. I knew that the party was on Thursday night and would be late. I also knew that housing closed on Friday and that I would need to leave the next day. I also thought (apparently) that this would be a convenient time to torture myself and so I purchased my ticket for an 8AM departure. 

The farewell party began with some ceremonial events. Speeches, slideshows, etc. Which was followed by an (unexpected) rendition of Leaving on a Jet Plane by the staff and faculty. Afterwards we all gathered for party-type refreshments and farewells and other party-type activities. Some of the people there were kind enough to wish me well and hug my head. In return, I wished them well and asked forgiveness for not hugging their heads. 

Leaving the party, I spend one last meaningful night sitting on my favorite bench for awhile and walking to Frogner Park which just dazzles in the nighttime. Though I did not return in time to get one iota of sleep, it was exceedingly worth it and was glad it worked out the way it did. I took one final picture of Blindern in the twilight. 

 The first train left Blindern station at 5:50AM towards Central Station. Lugging my bags with the help of my ever virtuous roommate down to the tracks I made it in plenty of time. I couldn't help but to smile when I heard the (by this time very familiar) automatic voice warn the doors were closing: "dørene lukkes." 

At the airport, the self check-in kiosk told me my bag was too heavy (probably that Norwegian sweater) and that I would be charged a fee. I took it to another window with an agent and asked them to weigh it and this time it was .1 kilograms under the threshold. After that they let me on the plane and I flew to Amsterdam where I would continue to seek art and adventure.