The Foreign Service Journal, May 2008

I don’t know how many times peo- ple have said this when I tell them that my husband and I have served for the past 10 years in Oslo, Moscow and, now, Ottawa — three of the cold- est posts where the U.S. maintains a diplomatic presence. I know that these are not the cold- est posts (Ulaanbaatar, I hear you!), but these capitals definitely put on a good show of a real winter for more than six months each year. And when one is talking about a temperature range of between 5 and minus 15 degrees F over a period of several months, trying to define “coldest” becomes moot. Let me say up front that, no, actual- ly I really don’t enjoy winters. The day after Christmas, it’s time for spring to arrive in my book. I was born and raised in Texas. My husband, on the other hand, is from Chicago. For him, the colder the winter, the happier he is. I can still hear my mother-in-law saying, “Cold weather is good for you — it kills germs.” Our first foray into an arctic climate was an assignment to Oslo after de- parting Tel Aviv. While Norway is sit- uated quite far north, its winters actu- ally were not too bad because they were moderated by the Gulf Stream. And the beauty more than made up for the cold. Our apartment was halfway up HollmenkollenMountain, at the top of which is one of the longest ski jumps in the world. When it was snowing heav- ily — big, fat snowflakes drifting down — my four-mile evening commute home would take more than an hour. It seemed that every Norwegian in Oslo was on their way up the mountain to hit the city’s 130 kilometers of light- ed cross-country ski trails. But Oslo is dark — as in long, dark winters. Toward the end of Decem- ber, night would settle in by 3:30 p.m., and the sun would not rise until 9 a.m. the next day. Norwegians rejoice in this darkness. Candles are every- where, even on the tables in Mc- Donald’s. From Norway, I chose Moscow as my next post. I will be the first to sheepishly admit that I had starry-eyed adolescent memories of “Dr. Zhivago” when choosing this assignment. But when my husband and I arrived at the dreary, decrepit Sheremetevo Airport, there was nary a Cossack in sight. Instead, there were eight lanes of whizzing traffic one block from the embassy, and Russians passed-out on icy sidewalks on Sunday mornings after a night of being fueled against the cold with vodka. After Moscow, I wanted to be clos- er to home, and so I sought an assign- ment in Canada. But nothing pre- pared me for the cold in Ottawa — and the length of the winters! Although Canadians do not em- brace winters with the zeal of Nor- wegians, the Rideau Canal in the mid- dle of the city becomes “the longest ice-skating rink in the world,” as Canadians are quick to boast with the backing of Guinness World Records. My morning commute to work takes me along the length of the Canal; the skaters, who move with grace and sta- mina to an inner song, never fail to enthrall me. People ask me how I coped with the winters in Oslo and Moscow. Truthfully, my negative memories of cold so intense that it hurts are reced- ing. What I do remember is the love- ly, muted early morning light on firs, their boughs coated silver with hoar- frost, surrounding and overlooking Oslo Fjord. And I remember Red Square on Christmas Eve, with snow softly piling on the tops of the multi- colored turrets of St. Michael’s. So while I am looking toward my last winter here in Ottawa with a bit of trepidation, I know that when I depart, my strongest memories will be of skat- ing on the frozen Rideau Canal, drink- ing mugs of hot chocolate and savoring hot, buttery, flaky “beavertail” cookies. Who knows? I may just convince my husband that Ulaanbaatar would be an interesting onward assignment. Joan Broyles Odean, an office man- agement specialist who joined the Foreign Service in 1985, has served in Geneva, Bonn, Tel Aviv, Oslo, Mos- cow and Washington, D.C. Currently posted in Ottawa, she was second- place winner in the Journal ’s 2007 FS fiction contest. 80 F O R E I G N S E R V I C E J O U R N A L / M A Y 2 0 0 8 R EFLECTIONS “Wow— You Must Really Like Winter!” B Y J OAN B. O DEAN The beauty more than made up for the cold.