The next day, Torill, her girls, and Birte (another norwegian woman) picked us (my mother, sister and I) up at home. We lived in a beautiful three level house with a large balcony on the roof with seaview. However, we had to move later on because of a really bad smell from the sewage. Anyway, we drove to the souq, which is in the Muttrah, the old town. From MQ where we lived it takes about twenty minutes to drive. I remember driving past beautiful trees and flowers, taken care of by indian workers, small shops now and then, and being astonished by the huge highways that stretches throughout the entire capital. Another thing that astonished me was that Torill, Birte and the girls all wore long jeans. Note, it was june, which means that the temperature was between 40 and 50 degrees Celsius. Of course, I wore lose pants that covered my knees, but I couldn´t understand how they could walk around with tight jeans in that temperature. The funny thing though, is that only a couple weeks later I did the exact same thing, and it was no problem at all. That feeling of gradually adapting to the culture and climate felt amazing.
In July, we went back to Norway for a few weeks, because you don´t stay in Oman during that month as an expat if you don´t have to. It is way too hot and humid. However, in August we went back. I had already visited the shool during Easter Break, but I was now officially a TAISM student. During the registration day, I spoke with the Middle School principle, whom I thought seemed very nice, which turned out to be a correct assumption. I received my calendar, bought the uniforms I needed and took the picture for the identity card. There was also some orientation for new students. It was great seeing with my own eyes that I wasn´t the only new and insecure kid. Lastly, I went to check out my locker, and tried ro understand how the lock worked, which was quite hard. Fortunately, my Language Arts teacher was in her classroom right next to my locker, so she helped me out. The rest of the afternoon was spent buying binders and other school stuff, as well as practicing on opening my lock.
The next day, my mom dropped me off at school. The walk from the car to the classroom felt awfully long. I was feeling terrified and exhilarated at the same time. Luckily, I had Language Arts during first block, which ment that Ms. Jensen, whom I met the day before, was my first teacher of the day. What a relief! I slowly opened the door to the classroom and stepped in. A few students was already seated. I spotted a table with two girls, and asked if I could join them. Phew! Then, my next worry, Physical Education next block. There was no way I could find the gym by myself. So, after repeating the same sentence in my head at least five times I dared to ask if they had PE next block as well. Then, if we please could walk together. From then on, everything went easier for every hour that passed. I spoke to more and more people, got to know the school building, passed my first tests. I went to birthday parties, hung out at the beach playing volleyball, went to the cinema.
However, it took some time. The language barrier made it hard to socialize in the same way as I would in Norway. At school and around friends I had to concentrate to understand what people were saying and I repeated everything at least three times in my head before I dared to say it. Moreover, this as everything else improved for everyday that passed, and by Christmas I didn´t need to think when listening or speaking, it just happened. At that point I even started to forget Norwegian words. Up until then I had smiled because of what a gift it was to live in this country, and I had cried becuase I missed home. These feelings came and went even after that first Christmas, but as time went by, the smiling increased, while the crying decreased.