Det går til faen

Anyway, my adventure of a lifetime wasn’t very life-changing. 

I would say though, that I did realise certain things about myself, and that I did learn certain things as well. So here’s my first post-exchange post - I’ll try to organise it so it’s not verbal diarrhea and also so that I’m forced to think about things to make my exchange more meaningful. 

I am a loser, and I’m okay with being one.

Before exchange, my preferred activity for leisure and relaxation was to stay cooped up in my room, facing my sleekass macbook screen. Social activities are fine, but they’re draining and I mostly participate in them because of social obligations (I’m sorry @ any friends reading this). I can go hours without talking to anyone, the best company is my own company, the best place to be is my little room, the best thing to do is nothing at all. 

Susan Cain would love me very much and I am flattered that she believes in my revolutionary powers even though I mostly just sit at home doing nothing revolutionary. I am basically a very stereotypical #Introvert. Synonyms include “loser”, “nerd”, “teacher’s pet”, “closer mugger”, and common conversation topics are “CAN YOU REPLY MY MESSAGE” or “WHY ARE YOU SO QUIET”. 

I’m not enthusiastic about most things, though it’s easier to hide this online because CAPITALISATION REALLY HELPS. I’m awkward and don’t know what to say all the time, I’m not the most interesting person either so that doesn’t help, and my throat literally gets sore if I speak too loudly too long. 

During exchange, I rarely (-if ever) interacted with my airbnb hosts unless it was necessary. One of my reviews even said that I was pretty much invisible, and really, any interaction with my hosts just bring me a lot of unwarranted problems. And in all my solo trips, I didn’t interact with anyone unless necessary, and in classrooms I kept to myself etc. etc. 

I do understand the perks of not being introverted, especially when on exchange because there are so many opportunities for cultural exchange, self development, friendships, and I might even have gotten myself a rich Norwegian husband to marry - and trust me, I am not proud or happy about my introversion - but I think that exchange has made me a lot more comfortable with being a loser. 

I guess mostly because it’s my most comfortable state, but I’ve also realised that I do things a lot better when I’m left alone. I think a lot better, I’m more myself, I’m not struggling to force conversations from my dried up raisin of a brain. 

I’m much more comfortable with just being on my own and I’m really glad for my solo trips. Perhaps this isn’t a positive change because I’m pretty much more convinced that there’s no point trying to be extroverted, but I don’t think I care much about that anymore. 

I’m clearer about what I want.

Norway is very different from Singapore. I’ve always disliked the noise and crowds of Singapore but I never knew if a quieter place was for me, and I guess I never knew how much quiet I preferred. 

Living in my own tiny room for five-ish months was also a huge departure from life in Singapore (even though I mostly hide in my room anyway…), and so was having to travel on my own in a foreign place far from my family and friends. 

But going through exchange has made me realise that:

I like the quiet a lot. Kind of a no-shit-sherlock point but yes. 

I do, however, still want some form of city life around…mostly the shopping part of city life. Oslo has a very dismal shopping culture compared to Singapore, but I guess that’s not really a huge problem since I don’t buy much anyway. 

Nature! Is! Great! It’s relaxing and quiet, and it’s nice being able to hear the birds chirping around and the little streams wooshing away. I’m 100x more likely to head out if there’s a bit of nature out there, and especially so if the weather is more forgiving. 

Related to the first point about being a loser - I like solitude. I want to live alone and be able to do things on my own. 

The sad thing is that Singapore is so, so far from what I want. And very few countries in the world are. Bergen is one of my favourite cities in the world (yes, even with its dismal shopping culture), but moving to Norway seems impossible so I’ll have to settle. 

— 

There are also plenty of other changes:

I am apparently fairer? I don’t see it but I guess it makes sense since there wasn’t much sun. 

My hair is more manageable. Mostly thanks to the discovery of Lush’s R&B. 

I am more independent I think. 

Handling my own finances isn’t as scary a thought now. 

My skin got drier. And because of that, I have more scratches that are taking ages to heal. 

I am better at packing my bags and cleaning my room. 

I am less caught up in planning, and less inflexible - my first solo trip to Amsterdam, I had a detailed itinerary planned out for each day, but my solo trips became increasingly spontaneous. It’s mostly because my first solo trip was really scary for me, and as I went along, I realised that travelling was quite straightforward, and Google Maps was a really good travelling companion that did all the work so that allowed for more flexibility. But my nerves were also a mess before Amsterdam, and the experience + learning about travelling made everything a lot less scary and stressful for me. 

I’m sure there are plenty of other little changes but having a sharper mind is not one of them, so I can’t recall any others. These have, so far, been pretty positive changes but there are obviously negative ones as well - most prominent of all would probably be my complete and utter lack of motivation and discipline for school. And I’ll be in my final year in two months. 

So basically, TLDR:

I am clearer (and more comfortable?) about who I am and

I am clearer about what I want.

Are these realisations (changes?) worth the thousands of dollars I’ve spent? 

Maybe a few years down the road, I’ll grow cynical and bitter and boring and stupid, and I’ll think that my exchange was a complete waste of money. Stasis wouldn’t be tragic then, and I hope someone punches me hard if that ever comes to be.