FALLING LIKE ALICE 2: Picture perfect country

My three years are up. Time to move on into adulthood. This thought is now going through many graduates at the moment. What's going to happen after graduation? It is scary though. It's time to go. But where?
A choice that many international students like me face after finishing their degree, is where to live. What is home? Where is home? This something I tried to explain with the Third Culture Post a few weeks back. Basically my conclusion was; home is where you are, where you are apart of a family and/or other social group (like friends).

And I'm starting to realise, I need start trying to remove things from the equation. UK or Norway, that is the choice. My mother said to me that Norway is more home because that's where I lived for 19 years, but I've come to disagree with that. Those 19 years were, to me, my childhood. Even though I was working from the age of 14 next school, making my own money, I was never fully independent. I acted independently, which something I always have done, but I was still living at home. My "grown-up" life, to me, started when I crossed the border in September 2010.

However when I think of the choice I have to make, I feel sad, borderline heartbroken  There is one thing that is truly making this choice for me really difficult; family. More specifically, the youngsters of my family. I have several sisters and cousins I greatly care about. Of course my parents, grandparents, uncles, aunties etc. mean something to me too, but they are grown-ups. They can understand and handle me living in another country for a while. When I leave Norway after holidays, it's not the grown-ups I miss, it's the youngsters.
THAT is the single biggest reason, why my choice is so hard for me. If I didn't have six sisters and five cousins, I wouldn't even think twice about the choice. I would have stayed here or traveled all over.

And some might think this is silly, letting stuff like that influence you. But in the end you have to remember this; they are family. And family never leaves you. One simply needs to stop over-thinking it and just live in the moment. (Oh if only I could listen to my own advice...)

Source: knittingiris.typepad.com

Of course I have friends I care about in Norway, but them I see either through visits (in Norway or UK) or through social media/messaging. But besides those two factors, and maybe snow, I feel no need to reside in Norway at the moment. I don't see a big future for me within Norway. For example the media industry is small and Norway is borderline a god damn picture-perfect Hallmark card. I like fixing stuff, to mend something. Norway isn't broken. I know it sounds weird, but I don't see Norway as a challenge.

Norway is a beautiful country, the fjords, the forests, the mountains and all that is beautiful. It is absolutely stunning! I've come to love my home country after I moved, to appreciate what I have. The peacefulness and nature (except in Oslo...) is great and really fills ones soul with joy. But the one thing I've come to dislike more and more, is Norwegians. Yes you heard me right. I've come to see how spoiled some Norwegians are and how lucky we are to come from Norway. Contrary to what others might say, Norway was never really hit by the financial crises. Norwegians spending has increased exponentially since the world went to hell in 2008. No other nation in the entire world has that many card transactions per citizen. However, each year you find Norwegians complaining about "low" pay and too "many" hours work per week. And even though Norway has Europe's cheapest petrol, we still complain over the prices.

So why do I want to travel and live all over except Norway?
I want to see the world. To see different cultures. I want to be free.

Me as a baby, always driving around to new places. Think I was about 1-2 here. Look at those curly golden locks 'ey?

Growing up, I traveled round a bit. Every single Easter from the year I was born until I turned 18, my family and I went to Sweden. I went to Greece for the first time when I was seven years old, after my dear mama had been saving for months to take us on holiday. In a few days I had managed to pick up a few BASIC Greek phrases. Why/how? Well basically because when I said something in Greek I'd get some cocktail accessories like an umbrella, fancy straw etc.. I still remember that holiday and treasure the memory dearly. I remember running into the veranda door, because the glass was shiny and polished. I remember looking at the weird looking drachmas (Former Greek currency). Since then I've returned to Greece four more times (and my mother well over 20 times). I went to Legoland in Denmark with my grandparents and to London with the family when I was 12 years. This list goes on, France, Italy, Monacco, Germany.....
Every time I went I felt a thrill, a happy and adrenaline filled sensation going through my body. It was something new. Something different.

Monaco 2008: Visiting my great auntie and great uncle who's got a lovely holiday home in southern France.

I grew up with Spanish, Italian and Greek food. I watched BBC as a child in addition to Norwegian channels. I read the Times, The Guardian and BBC News as a teenager. I prefer English fiction (books) over Norwegian any day. 90% of the songs I listen to and the films I watch are in English, 5% is other languages and 5% is Norwegian.
Point with all this rambling is that I feel addicted. Addicted to try something new. Something different than what I know.

So I've decided to look into jobs here in the UK. Because I need to try. To try to make a life for myself, here. If I simply go back to Norway, it would please my family and friends, but not myself. I don't see a future for me in Norway right now and I'm not ready to come back just yet. Because in my head I'm terrified of two words "What if?". What if I had stayed for two years in the UK? What if I had found the perfect job? What if I had tried a little harder? I will drive myself insane with the "what if"s.

So today I've registered with several job sites and will be spending the Sundays for the next two months applying for jobs. I'll probably look in Norway, but my main focus will be UK.

Besides, I simply love crumpets and Welshcakes. You can't get that in Norway, haha!

Haven't seen it, just was the first thing that popped up on Google. Besides, it sums up the message.

Always have a back-up plan, so you have something to fall back to. Though my mama taught me to be spontaneous and adventures, she also taught me to think ahead. For example when I broke my leg; 10-15 min after I'd broken it, whilst I was still lying on the snow, I had managed to call my housemate with instructions of what to pack and cancelled a meeting I had. Now I'm not saying that you should plan every single thing in your life, god knows I haven't...FAR from it. Most of the happiest moments in my life have been pure coincidence. Like UK, pure coincidence, but I'll leave that for another time.
What I mean is that you should have an option you can explore if your first choice doesn't succeed straight away. Like if you're looking at getting a job with BBC; either you don't get it or you get fired/made redundant after 2 months. Isn't it then nice to know you have a VAGUE idea of what you could do?

It's not like I'm worried that I won't have anything to do and end up on the street come August/September. I've applied for year study in athletics, English, pedagogy and arts & crafts at several universities in Norway (Stavanger, Oslo and Volda). That's my back up. If I don't get any job by August in the UK, I know I can go back to Norway and study athletics for a year. It might not be my first option, going back to Norway, but it sure beats living on benefits in UK.

In the next post I'll compare complete expenses of living in Norway and UK, incomes and life. They say people in my home country earn well, but do they really? Stay tuned Norwegians, you might be shocked.

Now this song has been stuck in my head for days! I listen to it way to many times a day. Enjoy!
Today's song:  ♡ How to be a heart breaker? - Marina and the Diamonds 

FALLING LIKE ALICE

Life is one of the many greatest miracles in the universe. It it a symbol of existence. It is a symbol of growing. We start our lives crawling round and having grandmas going Peek-a-boo! Who's a cute baby? Yeah? Who's cute baby? and pinching our cheeks. Gradually we start walking and exploring the world. We get independence (and bruises from falling over). When we're around 5-6 years old, we start school. About 12-13 years later, you've just graduated from college and now face a major choice; do you go into the real world or do you opt in for the safer option of 3, 5, 8? years of university. Many people opt for the three or five years approach. After university there's no turning back, the real world is coming. You're stood on the edge of the university's door and in a minute you're about to get a gentle push in the tush.

After that "tush-push", many students might feel like Alice, after she's fallen down the rabbit hole.  Everything is new, weird and scary, but at the same time a bit exciting.

I'm at the "just-started-crawling-into-the-rabbit-hole" stage. It's not long before my "tush-push" comes. And that's when the scary bit comes. Coming up in May, I'm turning 22. So for 16 (!) years of my life I've been in school. For 16 years, the life has been laid out in front of me. Decisions have been made for me by society. Then all of a sudden, it's not anymore. Many people find this idea daunting, the idea of not knowing what's next.

For the past weeks, maybe even months, I've been trailing the web for motivational speeches. To find something that will give me an indication how I can find my path, or "destiny" if you like. To find out my dreams.
When you're in year 10 of school and are about to start college, the standard approach from the school guidance counselor is to say Okay, write down your interests, beginning with the one you like the most. The top three should be you top three school choices. Done. Often that is the case. But how do you define interests? And what is the difference between interest and passion?

Life coach Jessica McGregor Johnson defines the difference as follows:

A passion is something you can't live without - When it is missing from your life, you feel a hole and it nags away at you. You constantly wish that you were doing, living, being, or having it.
An interest rouses your curiosity - An interest is a more intellectual thing; something that you want to discover more about. It ‘peaks your interest’.
(Source: Careershifters.org)


Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined. - Henry David Thoreau


Ever watched TED talks? They are AMAZING! Don't know what TED is? Long story short, TED stands for "Technology, Entertainment, Design". It is a conference that meets every year. People give talks about many things, for example, science, art, and business.

I watched this talk by Tony Robbins today and it was really good. He spoke about the basic needs and dreams of human and how these can be achieved. It's talks like this that makes me think; What do I want to do?

Your parents, family, university and society as a whole, has got an opinion how you should live your life. Your parents and family want you close, in a secure job and see you establishing a life. The university wants you to work within the industry you've have got a degree in, promoting their course.
And the society has got a ton of social conventions of how things should be. It tries to dictate how to live the "perfect" life and what conventions you need to abide by to get there.

That is the reality for many graduates (and also people in general). We let others dictate our life. We let other people decided for us what we should do, based on their past decisions. I'm STARTING, to realise that I need to stop letting other people decided for me and only let them guide me, if needs be. Sometimes what you want, is completely different from what your parents and family want for you and that can be hard. You're afraid to hurt them. To push them away. This sometimes results in a compromise, a compromise which consists of your parents/family's place, structure and type and your fading dreams and wishes.
That feeling can be destructive, on your dreams and your life. For me, I need to stop thinking what everyone else wants and find out what I want. That's it. But that's easier said than done. I've got people I care about both here in UK and in Norway. I feel home in both countries. Having to choose between them is probably one of the hardest decisions I've had to make in my life.

NEXT TIME: Looking into the cost of living, job market and possibilities in UK and Norway. The result might shock you. And yes, I have got a plan, even though it may not seem so. Maybe all this, can inspire you.

Today's song: Avril Lavigne - Alice

THIRD CULTURE ADULT

A documentary by Adrian Bautista about TCKs.

A Third Culture Kid (TCK) is a person who has spent a significant part of his or her developmental years outside the parents' culture. The TCK frequently builds relationships to all of the cultures, while not having full ownership in any. Although elements from each culture may be assimilated into the TCK's life experience, the sense of belonging is in relationship to others of similar background.

I know several people who are TCKs, who are born Norwegian, but spent half their life in Asian countries or people born in a different country that live in Norway. From what I've been told this can be a challenging life, but also an fun upbringing.

But I would like to talk about "normal" kids growing up in one country and then in later life becoming a "TCA", Third Culture Adult. I don't know if that's an official expression, but I just thought I'd start using it.

Being a third culture person in general is the feeling that you somehow belong to two (or more) different cultures. You feel a connection to several countries, that "home" is a hard word to define.

This is how I feel. I feel like a "TCA". My nationality is (and will always be) Norwegian and my home country is Norway. But if you were to ask me "Where is home?" I'd have a hard time answering that. Because I feel that here, Swansea, is my home. This is where my life is. But then again, I often refer to Norway as "home-home".

Top left; Norwegian flight from Norway to UK Top right:Wales-England border. Bottom left: Norwegian flight Bottom right: Train from Swansea to Gatwick

But what is home?

The dictionary defines "home" as follows:

              home - /hōm/
              Noun - The place where one lives permanently, esp. as a member of a family or household.

So a home is where you live? But it also says where you are part of a family or household. Then what defines family? I define family as the people closest to you that you can't push away no matter what. To me family isn't all about blood relation. Just cause you're blood, doesn't make you family. You've gotta earn that. I don't believe that just because you're blood you need to like each other, need to have contact or anything. Having said that, I've always believed that being close with your family is key and that there's very few things that beats a family dinner.
I consider my housemates, all 10 of them, to be like a family, a slightly dysfunctional family, but never the less a family. We might fight with each other, but we can't get rid of each other.
When I'm tired after a long day of uni, I say I'm going home.

So home is where you live and are a part of some type of community, but it may also change. Swansea would then be my home for now, but if I moved away then that place could be my new home.

The reason I've decided to write about this is because over the next few months, I'm faced with a choice. I have to choose where my home is going to be. A choice which many of my fellow international students face every year. Where will we end up? And quite frankly I'm absolutely terrified!

If anyone asks me if moving to a different country to live and study is worth it, I always said yes and that if you don't live at least a year in another country I think you're missing out on life, BUT.... there's one negative reason about living in a different country. The choice when your studies are done.

If I could split myself in two, I would. One part to Norway and one to stay here in the UK.
A part of me feel that the "right choice" is to move back to Norway because here I've got my parents, grandparents, sisters, uncles, aunties, cousins and friends. And it's also a logical choice because the unemployment rate is Norway is stupidly low. I mean, compared to other countries, it's so easy to actually get a job (any job that is) it's ridiculous. But then again, family and friends will always be there. As long as you're good to maintain contact through Facebook, Skype, email etc. it should be fine.

Then my other half feel a connection to UK and Wales after having spent 2.5 years so far here. I've built a life for myself here. I've got a bank account, job and friends. I know most of the staff in the gym I go to. It's a life.

Though I grew up in Norway, I actively looked for English in my childhood. When I was 13-14, I used to go to the library near where I lived and read The Times and Daily Mail. I watched BBC World News and BBC Entertainment (international BBC channel, not in the UK). I've read more English books (British mostly) than Norwegian in my life. I can't stand 90% of Norwegian films (a post for itself).
And I've got English family, which we (my family) don't have any contact with anymore, but still. I grew up in Norway with British traditions and language. I've never used the Norwegian word for "toast" (rista brød), I've always used the English word "toast". When my mum made pancakes I'd always have lemon and sugar on it. Or for Christmas, we'd normally never have the traditional Norwegian ribbe (whole side of pork). We always had ham roast, British tradition. The first thing I was taught in English was by grandma when I was a toddler, which was the nursing rhyme Humpty Dumpty. I was never taught the Norwegian version, Lille Trille.

My list goes on and on. Though I say I'm proud to be Norwegian, I wouldn't mind not saying it. If that made any sense. Like when people ask where in Wales/UK I'm from and I go I live in Swansea, but I'm originally from Norway and they get surprised and say they would never had guessed that, then I feel proud. I feel happy that I've integrated so well that they don't pick it up anymore.

Needless to say I'm a little culturally confused. Many people have all this. They grow up in a different country and/or with foreign family. And all this is mashed together at high speed and volà, the result is you. Depending on where in the world I get kids, I'd want them to be bilingual. If the kids were growing up in Norway, I'd still speak both English and Norwegian at home. And many people feel that way. They feel they want to give their child the best head start in life, to be able to explore.

I bought this book on eBay for 99p, a used former library book.

But when I graduate I don't want to settle down. I want to travel. I want to travel the world. And my plan is that if that goes alright, it could become my new career. Like Peter Pan said "I won't grow up". So neither country can have me. My dream is to work for Travel Channel and make the entire world my home. That way I won't let anyone down.

Q: Do you feel a bit like a TCK or "TCA"? What's your choice?


Never make your home in a place. Make a home for yourself inside your own head. You'll find what you need to furnish it - memory, friends you can trust, love of learning, and other such things. That way it will go with you wherever you journey. - Tad Williams


Today's song: Rascal Flatts - Life is a high

A LOT HAS HAPPENED

Wow, it's been a while now. Well do I have a story for you, because a lot has happened since last time we spoke.

On Friday the 18th of January there was Swansea's first snowday and some friends and I decided to go sledding down a hill. More like a tiny slope, not even steap... Anyway, after 20 minutes of sledding I manage to do the most stupid thing known to man. I, the Norwegian who referred to himself as the king of snow a few hours earlier on Facebook, managed to brake my leg.

Yup that's right. As I was going down, I landed wrong. I got my right leg caught underneath my left leg, landed wrong and felt (and heard) three cracks in my leg... MMM! I know right. Basically what I did was manage to break the bone (not the big one, the other), dislocate my foot and expand my anklejoint. Basically  what the last bit is that my foot popped out of its joint and shifted 5 cm to the right. Now that was fun!

On the Sudnay after, the 20th, I had an operation where they basically put everything back together and put one srew on either side of my ankle. After 12-15 weeks they can come out again and I won't have any long term damage. I'll have no long term damage if everything heals alright, so I can still run like I always do. So I am considering myself to be lucky, it could have gone a lot worse. The man with no shoes considers himself lucky when sits next to a man with no legs.

All this is nevertheless come at a very unlucky time of my life. Being in my third and final year of uni, being in bed all day isn't exactly the most optimal thing. But I'll get there in the end, only 16 days to go before I can start walking again! Yes, I'm counting, of course I am.

Being confined to crutches and a wheelchair has really taught me something; never take your legs for granted. I can't believe how difficult it must be for someone who's in a wheelchair on a permanent basis to get out and about. Just something as simple like going to the shops or to uni has proven to be a hard workout. Curbs. My biggest enemy, curbs, and getting up them.

Anyhoodle, I'll get back out there and I'll hit the ground running! I WILL finish uni on time. I'm doing my best to prepare as much as possible when it comes to work, so I can get right at it.

Today's song: P!nk - Raise your glass