Once the Weston Noble Alumni Choir concert had been sung, it was time to really relax and enjoy an event that I fondly remember from childhood but have experienced only sporadically since then. . . Decorah’s Nordic Fest. The brochure for this year’s fest said it was the 45th Nordic Fest, which means that the first one actually happened the year after we moved to town – much more recently than I would have guessed. When we lived in Decorah, the organizers of the event carefully policed each and every facet of the event to make certain that everything was Norwegian – or at least Scandinavian . . . from every morsel of food to every minute of the entertainment. But in recent years, for whatever reason, those restrictions have been loosened considerably . . . to the point where the music sung by the Decorah Luren Singers at the opening ceremonies included such Scandinavian classics as “O Susanah” and “You Raise Me Up.” 45 years ago, such a thing would have resulted in public floggings. I’m sure there are a few purists around who lament this kind of relaxation, but to me it makes Nordic Fest a bit more inclusive …. and frankly more fun- although all matters Norwegian are certainly still front and center.
One thing which Randi insisted I take in was the annual children’s play- which is performed at an old church right downtown . . . with essentially no sets, no spotlights, no special effects. . . just heartfelt and sincere performances by some very talented children. This particular play told the story of Norwegian explorer Roald Amundson and how he managed to reach the South Pole just ahead of Englishman Robert Falcon Scott, who perished along with his entire party while trying to return home. It was extraordinarily powerful and effective live theater.
If there’s one thing you can count on at Nordic Fest, it’s wonderful food. . . and I was happy to indulge in two of my favorite Nordic Fest foods: a pork chop on a stick (which is not all that Norwegian, but who the heck cares) . . . and a delicious delicacy called Varme Polsa, in which a sausage is wrapped in lefse . . . plus some treats like Krummkake and Rosettes that I find irresistable. (Just don’t make me eat Rommergrot or Fruit Soup or Lutefisk. Nordic Fever takes me only so far, when it comes to culinary matters.) It’s also fun to visit the beautiful gift shops in town that sell gorgeous things from Scandinavia – although I nearly suffered a stroke when I asked for the price of some lovely imported neckties and was calmly told “$399 each.” There’s also the free fun of watching various demonstrations of wood carving, needle work, woodworking, rosemaling, and more. . . and the simplest pleasure of all: being out and about with a lot of nice people.
Best of all was the Thursday evening opening ceremony, in front of the splendid Winneshiek County Courthouse, which included not only the spirited singing of the Luren Singers and the energetic twirling of the Nordic Dancers, but also a moving procession of Scandinavian flags (Norway’s being the last, of course) . . . with the flag carriers dressed in the formal garb of their respective nations. But what made this year’s ceremony unique – if unhappily so – was when acknowledgement was made of the horrific carnage which had just occurred back in Norway. An earnest speech was given by some minor official, but far more meaningful was the minute of silence which the huge crowd observed in memory of those who had perished. Never until this moment had I realized just how moving it is when a large and spirited crowd quiets itself. It’s a gesture that in one sense consists of Nothing At All – and yet can mean the world. For all that I fondly remember from my week in Decorah, I’m not sure I will remember anything as potently as that minute of silence, and the aching grief at the heart of it.
pictured above: the Norwegian flag is carried in as part of the opening ceremonies. If I remember correctly, these three women are three generations- mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother. They are each wearing a bunad, which is the formal dress that Norwegian women wear, with each region of Norway sporting its own particular design.