The proper function of man is to live, not to exist. I shall not waste my days in trying to prolong them. I shall use my time.
-Jack London
I’ve been obsessed with teaching abroad opportunities for years, spending an embarrassing amount of time online researching and admiring jobs in glorious locations all around the globe. To be clear, these jobs were for my English teacher husband, Dan, not for me. My key function was scout, dreamer, arranger, and eager prospective travel partner. The Fulbright teaching opportunity seemed like the perfect fit for Dan (and me, and our kids) so we studied and weighed the application. We talked it through, wrote it out, and sent it in.
If I really tried to nail down when my travel obsession began, I'd say it was in middle school. On our first day of 8th grade, a friend settled into her seat next to me and said she'd spent part of her summer in Mexico City visiting her grandmother. She was bilingual. That just sounded so incredibly worldly and important to me. In high school, I remember buying an edgy t-shirt with Chinese characters on it. I ordered a Vuarnet shirt just because it represented French ski culture. I lived vicariously through others who traveled as far away from Alaska as possible.
Feeling very much like what we’d submitted was a long shot, we received periodic updates about the Fulbright application over the next few weeks which kept our hopes alive. In November 2019 came an interview request. Then came a request for a teaching video. Finally, in January 2020, a letter arrived confirming what we’d hoped for: Dan had been selected as one of three Fulbright Roving Scholars to teach in Norway for the 2020-21 academic year. We took a moment to wallow in stunned bliss.
If this were an audio file, here is where I would insert a very dramatic record-scratch sound to signify an abrupt change of action.
January 2020, it turns out, wasn’t a good time at all to be planning for international travel. Or for anything. But at that point, we were in denial, and ready to go. The Fulbright people sent us an official letter, and we were going to Norway. It was a done deal. They would surely let us in the special back door, despite worsening pandemic news.
Cautiously checking Norway’s daily Covid numbers, we forged ahead with plans: Researching Oslo apartments and schools for our kids. Bus lines. Airplane flights. National holidays. Latitude. Weather. Passports. Medical clearance forms. I spent probably 20 hours filling out forms for our family to receive temporary residence status in Norway. The questions were incredibly detailed. At one point I was asked to describe how Dan and I met, what our courtship was like, and who attended our wedding? We then had to drive to Everett to deliver the forms in person to someone at the Norwegian Consulate.
We signed rental contracts to secure beautiful apartments in Oslo - twice. We connected with lovely people who were ready to rent to us. We had to cancel both - twice. At different points, we applied to two different Norwegian schools for our kids. One required transcripts, letters of recommendation, personal essays written by our kids, a detailed description of interests and activities, a fairly significant non-refundable tuition down payment, and class selection. After months of planning and hours of work, we had to cancel both. Airline tickets purchased - and then canceled.
A year and a half into the process, we became really good at filling out forms that seemed to lead nowhere. We were hope-weary and hungry for good news that didn't seem to come, or at least didn't come often enough. On top of not knowing when or if we were going to leave, there was Covid, politics, wildfire smoke, and loved one's health issues that kept us suspended in a constant state of anxiety.
Despite that, our family decided to adopt the mantra “ready for anything” to help us through the darkness and uncertainty. We’d fly that flag whenever one of us needed to be lifted up. Finally, and miraculously - I’m still not really sure how or why this happened - the Norwegian Maritime Authority granted Dan and our family special permission to enter Norway, allowing us temporary residency, on Sept. 9, 2021.
After 2.25 years, we made it to Norway. We are grateful. And we are ready for anything.
"Keep some room in your heart for the unimaginable." -Mary Oliver
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