Student Blog: What I learned on exchange in Norway

The Power of Leaving Space for Joy

When I first met my Norwegian housemate, her routine fascinated me. She was a full-time student, balancing a teaching course load and field placement with training on her school's rugby team three times a week. However, she didn't look as busy as I did: staying up late booking flights and writing itineraries for new adventures, darting in and out of the apartment between social events, or holed up in my room stressing about my side projects or future career goals. She would gradually wake up at 6 am with a cup of tea, go to school or work or practice, and come back in the afternoon. She would spend hours trying out a recipe from her rock-band-inspired cookbook, reading a sports-themed romance novel at the kitchen table, or crocheting a new clothing item while watching the latest rugby game, then head to bed around 9 pm.

It wasn't that she was getting any less done than I was. Half the time I was "trying to be productive", I would be multitasking, distracted, and stressing out over a small inconvenience or spiralling over a big decision. She would finish everything she needed to do that day, then build in the time for small joyful activities.

You may have heard about Norway's generous labour policies geared towards work-life balance: a strict 8-4 workday, 4 weeks of vacation annually, and a year of fully paid parental leave. There's an emphasis on building relaxation and joy into the pursuit of achievement, which isn't just codified into law, but firmly embedded in the ethos of its people. And no one demonstrates this quite like our new favourite Norwegian celebrity, Erling Haaland. He has trained relentlessly to shatter records in European football, to do the unthinkable and rally a country with a 28-year World Cup drought to the Quarterfinals. However, he also finds time each week to cook, play Minecraft with his girlfriend or record hilarious clips for his YouTube channel. Rather than spiral over an impending match against all-time Cup winner Brazil, he goes shopping for cowboy gear. Instead of shutting down after a tough loss against England, he goes clubbing with his teammates to celebrate how far they've come.

A welcome break from North American workaholism, Norway reminded me how important it is to stop measuring success by the hours I spend in front of a screen, even when working on impactful things. Even in my busiest weeks, I should build in time for hangouts with friends or writing for pleasure. Most of all, I must continue to maintain a positive, smiling attitude through my losses and frustrations, and remember the fundamental joy that comes from doing what I do.

The Power of Time in Nature

One of my favourite memories on exchange was a gruelling hike in the Lofoten Islands, far into the Arctic Circle. Four of us exchange students decided to spend 5 hours trudging through Ryten Mountain. Even in late April, the path was completely covered by a thick layer of snow. The weather was windy and overcast, and our boots and socks were increasingly soaking through.

But right as we reached the summit, the sun emerged from behind the clouds, and we were treated to this absolutely stunning view overlooking Kvalvika Beach.

We sat on a rock, unwrapped our lunches, and took in the stretch of shimmering ocean and the massive, jutting mountain, glistening in the light. All my racing thoughts slowed to a hum, allowing me to sit in the awe and stillness.

Norway is famous as a tourist destination for its dazzling, rugged nature, which also plays a critical role in local life. Regardless of whether we had 6 hours of winter daylight or 16 hours in the summer, I noticed Norwegians jogging around Store Lungegårdsvannet, the small lake outside my residence, sprinting up one of Bergen's seven mountains, or mentioning their upcoming cabin trip in casual conversation. And Bergen is the wettest city in Europe, averaging roughly 240 days of rainfall per year — so all this would still be happening when it was pouring! On the rare days the sun shone, it felt like the whole city was out basking in the glow.

Friluftsliv , or "open-air living", emphasizes spending time in nature for greater physical and mental well-being. This philosophy is woven into other parts of Norwegian society: through quips like "there's no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing" ; laws like the "right to roam", which grant freedom to hike and camp responsibly on uncultivated land; and non-profits like BUA, which allow youth under the age of 25 to freely borrow outdoor equipment.

When I came to Norway, I was excited to visit the flashy destinations everyone featured on Instagram: the view from Preikestolen or a boat across the massive Geirangerfjord. And indeed, those were AMAZING, once-in-a-lifetime experiences. Slowly, though, I came to embrace the day-to-day of friluftsliv: joining locals to jog around the lake or spending three hours studying for finals outside by a forest stream.

I still haven't fully shed my "achievement-oriented" travel nature: I'd often embark on a hike to mentally "tick off" one of the seven mountains, or choose a trip to unlock a new location I had found online. Now that I'm back in Canada, I want to spend more time taking familiar walks, watching the wind rustle through trees in fields and parks, and reclaiming the calm I discovered in Norway's wilderness with no goal in mind. I know that my mental health will thank me.

The Power of Deeper Kindness

Norwegians are stereotyped as cold, blunt people who despise small talk and stick tightly to their social circles. I made the mistake of scrolling Reddit the month before I left, and was convinced by internet strangers that I would make no local friends and be lonely the entire semester.

Canadians, on the other hand, are known for their politeness. We hold the door open for people who are fifty metres away. We smile easily, say hi to strangers on the street, and quickly invite newcomers to our celebrations. Despite our shared grudging acceptance of the cold, our two cultures, from the outside, seem like polar ¹ opposites.

But after a few months, I found that Norwegians were actually substantially kinder than they seemed — you just had to get to know them better. I had meaningful chats at the kitchen table with my housemate, engaging policy debates with my Economic Development coursemate, and great conversations about Canadian-Norwegian differences with the girls in my run club.

In fact, many of my conversations went deeper than those I had with new Canadian friends, precisely because they skipped the "how are you doing?" small talk and didn't feel this pressing need to "stay polite". Norwegians asked me questions they wanted the answers to and challenged my perspectives with refreshing honesty. I aspire to continue applying this directness and candour to my own communication, without losing my trademark Canadian niceness.

The Power of Home

Throughout my time in Norway, I never found myself homesick in the way I anticipated. Sure, I missed the easy access to Asian food and ingredients (and being able to dine out without breaking the bank 😅). But I was on exchange! There were so many opportunities to share my Chinese-Canadian culture while also experiencing other tastes and traditions. I got to introduce new European exchange friends to 番茂炒蛋 (tomato-and-egg stir-fry) while trying Mustikkapiirakka (Finnish blueberry pie) and Bacalhau à Brás (Portuguese salt cod), giggle in the kitchen while experimenting with a vegetarian poutine recipe, shriek after cold-plunging into the Arctic Ocean for a Nordic sauna, and learn Happy Birthday for a friend in German.

It occurred to me that for many of my new European friends, Erasmus was one of the few opportunities to be simultaneously exposed to such a wide array of cultures. This was honestly a privilege I had taken for granted. I'd gotten used to hearing 3 different languages spoken at an event in downtown Toronto, or being able to order authentic food from almost any cuisine. I had forgotten that this wasn't the norm everywhere.

Canada has been scrutinized in recent years for an increasing pile of problems. Our healthcare system faces ever-increasing wait times. We're experiencing a massive housing bubble with ever-rising costs. We have an economy facing brain drain and capital flight, while struggling with low competitiveness and an overreliance on depleting natural resources — the list goes on. But as a fellow sparsely populated, oil-rich nation, Norway faces these problems too. Rather than accepting complacency, many of their innovative solutions are ones we can learn from.

More importantly, our clichéd "diversity is our strength" mantra rings true, and it took going to Norway for me to remember just how unique Canada is in the world. As Canadians, we're used to growing up around a plurality of languages and ethnicities. While rising anti-immigrant sentiment threatens this, our education systems still teach children to celebrate the differences that make up our cultural mosaic. As a result, we're quicker to break out of our bubbles and develop warm friendships with people who are vastly different. This is what I found myself missing most when I was in Norway, and what I found myself often drawn to when meeting Canadians abroad.

Both Norwegians and Canadians are deeply proud of their own countries. It was indescribably exciting seeing Bergen explode with music, crowds, and colour on Norway's National Day (17th May), then watching the country erupt again with unified ROs! during Norway's dark horse World Cup journey. However, I felt a quiet joy returning in time to catch the Canada Day fireworks on July 1st, and seeing Toronto come alive as the host of this unifying event.

I will always be Canadian. But a piece of my heart remains captured by this country, the people, its otherworldly nature, and its adorable cultural quirks ( brown cheese waffles and Taco Friday, I'm looking at you!).

I will miss you, Norway, and I promise I'll be back soon.