There’s something about flying into a foreign country and looking down on it and seeing the land blanketed with snow. At first I thought they were glaciers, but then as those transformed to snow-capped mountains, I then saw quaint houses sitting atop of a hill, roofs draped in snow. I can just imagine, sitting next to a fireplace singing “chestnuts roasting on an open fire.” A perfect winter setting if you ask me.

The sky quickly turned from a faint black to an ombré of pink to a citrus orange. The sun was rising outside my window, while I thought of my dear friends back in Philly either fast asleep or out in Center City.

I was officially in Norway, a country I have always wanted to go to. Serendipitously, I had a 9-hour layover in the city so I really didn’t have to buy a separate ticket to see the country. Upon my arrival, I saw a very noticable difference between American and Scandanavian men and women. To preface, I find most people quite attractive, but when I sat in my designated seat, I looked at all of the boarding passengers and just gazed at each and every one of them. Scandanavian people are really good-looking. I know back in Australia I said the same thing, but it’s not the same. Every woman is your classic tall, slender, blonde with features of an European. And by European, I think it’s because they wear minimal make-up, or they’re just really good at the whole “natual look” technique. Either way, gorgeous ladies. The men… oh man, I don’t even know where to begin. Let’s just say it’s a good thing it’s icy out because that’s become my excuse for tripping.

I swear, if I meet a scandinavian boy, I may not come back.

Anyways, the layout of stores and tables in restaurants are narrower than what your average American would like. Think tapas style, but everywhere. In cafes and restaurants, tables are placed apart at a distance where even the skinniest person has to walk sideways through to get to the inner seat. In one bookstore, there were times where I had to crab-walk through certain aisles to get to a certain section. Actually, there were multiple accounts when I thought I was going to knock a case of books over with my obnoxiously large American backpack; talk about anxiety.

I have been to countries where English wasn’t the primary language, but I was also accompanied by professors and other students at those times. Now, I’m by myself in a foreign country trying not to look like an idiot tourist, but I have already let the secret out to my deceiving appearance. Norwegians know their english. In fact, I had mistaken a group of guys for Americans until I saw their passport. Their english is impeccable and definitely better than mine. Despite having been born in America, I still like to pull the Asian card when I can’t pronounce words.

I mean, have you tried speaking Norwegian? I have. Imagine a native Chinese person with the heaviest Shang-hai accent trying to say a basic phrase like, “how are you?” in norwegian. It doesn’t sound pretty at all; sounds like a goose choking on a piece of bread, and geese’ sounds are already not pleasant.

So to perfect my accent and pronunciation, I literally walked all over the city, and perhaps a little too far. I roamed to the point where I ended up on the other side of the city where Oslo university was. At first, I was drawn over by the ducks and trees. Then I saw a pop of color at the end of the bridge and so naturally, I pranced towards it. As fast-paced as I could without falling on my tailbone, I quickly walked to the graffitied buildings. I came around the bridge and saw a statue of a duck imitation. A white statue where at first glance you’d think is an interesting form of a duck, but then you realize the butt is actually two testicles and the neck and head is actually the body of a penis. A group of (you guess it) Asian tourists saw it, and as if in relation with me, we brought our cameras up and took a picture of the penis “duck.”

Shortly after, I arrived at a building where one side was completely sketched out like a comic strip, and on the other side had tags that were painted to make the words seem like they were breaking through the concrete building. I was amazed and soon came to realize it was the art school of the university.

Why can’t America be this cool?

I also found out for each country, Netflix streams different movies/shows. So Norway, of course, has the complete seasons of Friends. Byyyyeeeee.