Dave's Travel Journals
Humble Patriotism
Drøbak, Norway: May 18, 2001
By Dave Fox
No matter how many times I fly across the ocean, I never get used to the disorientation from flinging my body so quickly across nine time zones. From rainy Seattle to rainy Oslo took a mere 12 hours. For reasons I can't understand -- my karma is honestly not worthy of such treatment -- I managed to schmooze my way into a business class upgrade for the third out of my last four trans-Atlantic flights.
Jetlag for me is debilitating, like a nagging flu. It makes me dizzy, achey, whiney. I feel disoriented every time I arrive in Scandinavia, as soon as I'm off the plane in Copenhagen. Everything is familiar, like home, but so distant from the American reality I have left just hours earlier.
I was awakened early yesterday by snare drums that smashed through my exhaustion. Then came a brass band with the Norwegian national anthem. My eyes were still closed and at first I wasn't sure what was happening. Then I remembered. I had slept through my first night in Drøbak, my Norwegian home, and it was "syttende mai" -- May 17 -- Constitution Day, Norway's biggest holiday.
Norway has been fully independent for less than a century, and the people here seem to appreciate their freedom more sincerely than a lot of Americans. National pride here is a genuine love for the country, free of the arrogance I see all too often in American patriotism. Norwegians love their land in a simple way, free of competition or insistance they are the biggest, the strongest, the best. They savor their right to simply be free and exist peacefully in the world community.
My body wanted to sleep, but I had flown over here early for this holiday. The "children's parade" would begin soon with hundreds -- maybe a thousand -- elementary school kids marching through the streets waving flags. I dragged myself down for breakfast.
Breakfast included beer and akvavit, Norway's national firewater, for the special occasion. It wasn't good for my jetlag, but I wanted to join the toasts.
After the children's parade, all of Drøbak's 10 or so pubs were bursting with people dressed in traditional clothing. In the afternoon was a second parade, and then more pub time.
My Norwegian parents, Per and Tordis, my sister Hanne and her girlfriend, and I squeezed our way into a pub that was the town bakery several hundred years ago. The pub only holds about 50 people around six long tables. It was packed. I met high school friends I hadn't seen in years. People played the piano and the guitars and drums scattered around the room. Everyone sang along -- Norwegian patriotic songs, and accented renditions of tunes by Queen and Elton John. It was something I have never seen among the usually-reserved Norwegians -- a room full of strangers all talking and singing as if they'd been friends since childhood. At 3 a.m. -- 6 p.m. according to my body's internal clock, I finally gave up and went to bed.
Tomorrow I head into Oslo for some quick research... then through Denmark and Sweden for the next several days to get ready for my tour. I have a few free days after Stockholm. I'm pondering a quick visit to Estonia in the former Soviet Union. Unlike Russia, Estonia's economy has soared since the break up of the USSR. I have not been there since January, 1994. I am told I will barely recognize it now.
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