'The first time I tasted brown cheese, I stared at it like it owed me money'

I never imagined that one day I would trade the warm chaos of Uganda for the quiet, icy calm of Norway.

If someone had told me years ago that I’d be living in a country where the sun disappears for months on end and people queue even when there’s no one behind them, I would have laughed.

But life has a funny way of surprising us, and my journey to Norway has been one of the biggest, strangest, and most beautiful surprises of my life.

Courage and confusion

Leaving Uganda wasn’t just a physical move, it was an emotional earthquake.

I was excited, yes, but also terrified. Uganda is loud, warm, familiar. You can’t walk down the street without hearing music, laughter, or someone shouting “Boss!” from a distance. It’s a place where strangers become friends in minutes.

So, when the opportunity to come to Norway came, I felt like I was standing at the edge of a cliff. Part of me wanted to jump. Another part wanted to run back home and hide under my mother’s bed.

But I chose to jump.

The cold that almost sent me back home

Nothing - and I mean nothing - can prepare an African for the Norwegian weather.

When I stepped out of the airport, the cold hit me so hard I almost apologized to the air for disturbing it.

My jacket, which had served me faithfully in Uganda’s “cold season,” suddenly felt like a bedsheet. But even in that freezing moment, I felt something else: excitement.

Everything looked different: the buildings, the roads, the people bundled up like walking duvets. It felt like stepping into a movie.

I remember thinking, “Is this the same cold people survive every day? How?”

But as I looked around at the snow-covered streets, the clean air, and the calmness of everything, I felt something else too: wonder. It was like stepping into a postcard.

The mystery of Norwegian small talk

Norway is beautiful, but the culture? That one took time.

• People don’t talk loudly.
• People don’t talk much at all.
• People don’t greet strangers.
• People don’t sit next to you on the bus unless they absolutely have to.

Back home, silence is suspicious. In Norway, silence is a lifestyle.

At first, I thought people were avoiding me. Later, I realized they were just respecting my space. Norwegians love personal space the way Ugandans love chapati: deeply and passionately.

But once a Norwegian becomes your friend, they are loyal, kind, and incredibly supportive. They may not talk much, but their actions speak loudly.

Cook your own comfort food

One of the biggest adjustments was the food. I missed Ugandan dishes so much that I started dreaming about kalo (a paste made from millet flour blended with cassava or sorghum flour that is served with stews or sauces). Norwegian food is simple, fresh, and…different.

The first time I tasted brown cheese, I stared at it like it owed me money. But surprisingly, it wasn’t bad. I even started liking it, though nothing will ever replace a good Ugandan meal.

I also learned that if you want to survive abroad, you must learn how to cook your own comfort food. Otherwise, you’ll end up crying in the supermarket while staring at unfamiliar ingredients.

Buses, snow, and strange traditions

Everything in Norway felt like a puzzle at first:

• The bus system confused me.
• The snow scared me.
• The darkness during winter shocked me.
• Now I’m told the long summer days are coming that will confuse my sleep schedule (though I can't wait for that experience).

But slowly, I adapted. I learned to check bus schedules like a pro. I learned to walk on ice without falling (most days). I learned that Norwegians love outdoor activities even when it’s freezing, something I still don’t fully understand. And I learned that growth happens when you step outside your comfort zone…even if that zone is -10°C.

I met people who helped me navigate the bus system (which confused me for weeks), and taught me how to say 'takk' without sounding like I was sneezing.

Discoveries beyond the classroom

Moving from Uganda to Norway has reshaped how I understand food security and nutrition.

Growing up, these topics were part of everyday life - something you could see in the markets, in farming communities, and in the way families shared meals. But studying them in Norway has opened up a completely different perspective, showing me how global, interconnected, and deeply structural these issues really are.

One of the most meaningful discoveries has been realizing how differently food systems function across contexts. In Uganda, food security often feels tied to land, weather patterns, and local production. In Norway, I’ve seen how technology, policy, and strong social systems can create stability even in a climate that doesn’t naturally support year‑round agriculture.

This contrast has taught me that nutrition is shaped not only by what people know, but by the systems that support or limit their choices.

Oslo: a city designed around well-being

My first tour to Oslo became one of the most memorable parts of my early days in Norway.

Coming from Uganda, where the rhythm of life is shaped by warm weather, bustling streets, and open markets, stepping into Oslo felt like entering a completely different world.

The city’s calm order, clean streets, and efficient public transport immediately stood out - but what stayed with me most was how thoughtfully the city is designed around people’s well-being.

Walking through the city centre, I noticed how food and culture are woven into everyday life. From small bakeries offering fresh pastries to grocery stores filled with foods I had never seen before, Oslo introduced me to a new way of thinking about nutrition.

The emphasis on fresh produce, whole grains, and sustainably sourced foods made me reflect on how food systems differ between countries, and how these differences shape people’s health and choices.

Our tour took us past Oslo university, the kings palace, the national museum, etc., where people sat along the waterfront enjoying simple meals and warm drinks despite the cold weather.

How Norway changed me

Living in Norway has shaped me in ways I never expected:

• I became more independent.
• I learned to enjoy quiet moments.
• I discovered strength I didn’t know I had.
• I learned to appreciate both cultures: the warmth of Uganda and the calm of Norway.

Most importantly, I learned that home is not just where you were born. Home can be a feeling, a memory, or even a new place that slowly becomes part of you.

I learned to appreciate silence, to enjoy long walks even in the cold, and to embrace new cultures without losing my own.

Most importantly, I learned that home is not just a place, it’s a feeling. And sometimes, you can carry that feeling with you wherever you go.

A journey worth taking

My transition from Uganda to Norway has been a mix of laughter, confusion, homesickness, excitement - and growth. It hasn’t been perfect, but it has been worth it.

I came here scared. I became someone stronger.

I came here unsure. I found clarity.

I came here as one version of myself. I’m becoming another.

And every day, as I walk through the quiet Norwegian streets, I carry a piece of Uganda with me in my heart, in my memories, and sometimes in the food I cook to remind myself where I started.

My transition from Uganda to Norway wasn’t perfect. It was messy, emotional, funny, confusing, and beautiful. But it shaped me. It taught me resilience. It showed me that I can adapt, grow, and thrive - even in a place where the sun disappears for months on end.

And now, when I look back at that nervous person boarding the plane, I smile. Because I didn’t just travel to a new country, I traveled into a new version of myself.