Anyone who has spent meaningful time in Norway has heard this expression recited with pride: bad weather does not exist in Norway, only bad clothing. You would also know that it is more than a catchy phrase; it is a lifestyle.

Norway packs in a lot of weather. Days of wind, rain, snow, fog, frost, and mist far outnumber days of sunshine and calm by a gigantic margin. Living in western Oregon taught me to appreciate the sun coming out from October through May. Norway has taught me to appreciate the sun coming out ever. The seasons change, but it is never all that warm. T-shirts and summer dresses are largely a thing for those who live farther south. The sun’s warmth barely distinguishes the different seasons, instead, the abundant foliage growth and the long days of light do.

So, it is within this context that Norwegians have been forged. If warm, sunny days were required to enjoy the outdoors, rarely would anyone venture out. Fortunately, I have never been discouraged by poor weather. I have all the clothing options for sideways rain and Arctic blasts of air. I have, therefore, met the Norwegians in their element, with eyes squinted while the rain pounds our faces, heads turned to properly breathe as the strong wind takes our breath away, or layered up head-to-toe to combat the frigid air.

Yet, I have found that I can still be surprised by their fortitude at times. Admittedly, my soft, American conditioning still shines through every so often.

Norwegians are very efficient while boarding airplanes. Both the front and the rear doors are generally deployed to move passengers. But despite what you may be envisioning, this is not accomplished by the use of two jetways; it is achieved by the use of one jetway in the front of the aircraft and a simple movable stairway in the rear. Signs direct those with seats in the back half of the airplane to leave the building and walk to said movable stairway. What Mother Nature happens to be throwing out at the moment has no bearing.

Recently, I made this journey outside, following the compliant line of Norwegians into the sideways rain and wind before congestion forced me to stop long before even making it to the base of the stairway. I waited patiently as the line slowly inched forward, my clothes absorbing the rain like a sponge. As I covered my head as best I could with my hood, I noticed the young Norwegain in front of me put an arm around his traveling companion, giving her a squeeze, no doubt to share his warmth with her. No one complained, no one appeared annoyed or even phased in the slightest. I could not help but marvel at this situation and compare it to what would happen if I were in America instead. People would lose their minds. I could hear the anger directed at the airport staff. How could you make us be out there? I paid hundreds of dollars for this flight, and I just had to stand in the rain to board?! The complaints would be endless. But not in Norway, because in Norway, there is no bad weather, only the wrong clothing.