Happy Birthday Norway

Given that the name of this blog is :: White Out ::, it seems logical that the first entry be of a white nature. Snow is naturally what comes to mind first. This is after all, a Nordic country, home to Santa, his reindeers,  polar bears, and legendary Viking lore.

It is however, May, and thoughts of snow are not welcome. In fact the majority of Oslovians - my own name for residents of Oslo, are still in the last stages of  “snow recovery”. This past winter was said to have been one of the snowiest ever. Reminders of snow at such an early stage of spring could be deemed harmful, cruel, and/or just plain mean. As with most painful memories, one must wait a good long time before the memory can fade into that blissful romantic nostalgic stage and be re-experienced in all its gory and wonderful reality.

And so, for now, one's thoughts turn to spring. I have just experienced my very first 17^th of May, a National holiday that celebrates the signing of the Norwegian Constitution and the birth of Norwegian Independence. I can think of no better topic for this very first blog than a birthday. I like beginning at the beginning after all.

The 17th of May is a very BIG holiday in every sense of the word. 

As I am slowly starting to realize, all holidays in Norway come with a set of strict codes of conduct. A guidebook for Newcomers on the do’s and don’ts of fête-ing in Norway should be distributed at all points of entry into the country so that any potential faux-pas can be avoided. As a 17^th of May Newbie, who is fortunate to have friends, I was given precise, well relatively precise, information on what was required and more importantly expected,  for the day.

The first tell-tale sign that the 17^th of May is nothing like a Canada Day picnic comes with that ever tactful, always leading, and certainly always telling, question – “um…what are you planning to wear on the 17^th of May?” This question is usually asked by a concerned party who is most likely Norwegian.

Norwegians reading this story should be advised that this question will almost always be met with a blank, perhaps slightly offended stare. The Canadian will likely respond with a retort of the following nature – “What do you mean what am I going to wear?!” At this point the Canadian is usually already dressed in weekend jeans, trainers and a hoodie.

It is then explained that everyone dresses up for the 17^th of May. Red, blue and white ribbons, the colour of the Norwegian flag, are worn by everyone. One either dons the traditional Bunad or their very best Sunday dress. When the day arrives, it becomes very clear just how important this seemingly small piece of advice is. It is shockingly easy to spot the casually dressed skulking about in a crowd of 100,000 dressed up people.

Thankfully I was well informed and managed, to a degree, to blend. Though renown for their open-mindedness, Norwegians do not take lightly to new interpretations of holiday etiquette. Traditions are traditions and must be adhered to. Modernizing traditions is tolerated within small limits. Small tweaks of infinitesimal scale seem to be permitted, however all out personalizing is not ok. A bunad for example, cannot heaven forbid, be “re-accessorized” with David Yurman jewelry and a Hermes scarf.

I wisely chose not to trim the ribbons I had selected to wear, a few centimetres, even though it would have been better with my coat. 

Parade watching is a must and great fun. Thousands of children march with marching bands up to the castle to wave to the Royal Family. 

The other tradition that I happily adhered to was the eating of ice cream and hot dogs. An ice cream in some form or another is to be carried like another appendage for at least some part of the day. Children challenge each other to eat as many ice creams as possible. It can only be assumed that for many parents, Monday is a day with sick children at home and sticky finger prints all over the house.

I have yet to research when the hotdog tradition began. I am finding it difficult to imagine early century Norwegians with an Oscar Meyer Weiner. One can only surmise that the popularity of the hotdog in Norway has to do with the fact that any meat that can be carried around and eaten while walking is, as Martha would say – “a good thing”.