Home.

After 2 days in a van, loaded with samples from our successful field sampling trip, I drove over the bridge into Tromsø and was struck by the overwhelming sensation of returning home. Mingled with relief was also a bit of surprise – prior to this trip I wouldn’t have called this little island my home, but somehow during my absence it became just that. Perhaps you have to leave a place in order to realize how much it means to you, how welcoming and reassuring even the slightest bit of familiarity is. So at least for the time being, Tromsø has become home.

Our field work began quite benignly, and Friday was no exception. After a sunny and successful day in the field, we returned to our cabins and were greeted by the sad, tragic events unfolding in Oslo. The group sat, almost unable to move as we watched the news and tried frantically to read as much as possible on the internet while trying to get in touch with friends and family members in Oslo. There was a feeling of suspended reality – this reality was jarringly out of place with the idyllic scenery and the feeling of sun and fresh air still lingering after a full day basking in pristine, unspoiled nature. How could these two worlds exist simultaneously?

Dinner was a combination of quiet silence, reflection and dazed conversation as we turned the same questions and thoughts over and over between us, like a worry stone in our hands. How could something like this happen? How could someone be so angry at the world to resort to such violence? For the better part of the trip, we kept coming back to these unanswerable questions, even as we found out more as news reports slowly provided more information and the extent of the devastation and violence became clear. I couldn’t (and still can’t) get over the senseless, randomness of it all. There was no rhyme or reason as to who was spared and why these people were taken from their families and their country, and this inability to rationalize and understand the loss of these lives is something that I think many will never be able to come to terms with.

             

While it is impossible to understand or fully come to terms with the sad violence that exists in our world, this event also demonstrates the opposite side of the coin – the exceptional beauty of people coming together in times of hardship. I am overwhelmed by the deep strength of the human soul, and the bonds of solidarity that are forged in the face of such a tragedy as this. The Norwegian people have come together as a nation to support each other in their grief and to rebuild not only their city, but also their national identity. Norway is a nation of quiet strength, and they are bearing this load as a united nation.

            

 The Fulbright program was established in the wake of the violence of World War II as a way to promote peace through educational exchange. At times like this, it is starkly evident that we need peace more than ever, both domestically and abroad, and the reason for my time in Norway could not be more clearly defined. This week’s events frame the mindset which must guide me through this year – to be a vessel through which cultural exchange and mutual understanding between people of different nations can occur.

Stay strong Norway – opphold sterke Norge.