<\/a><\/p>\n For a truly authentic Norwegian experience, head to the country during the May 17th celebrations. But be prepared, you may never think of Norway the same way again. <\/em><\/p>\n By Catherine Skrzypinski<\/strong><\/p>\n \u201cHei, I am \u00d8ivynd,\u201d the shy Norwegian greeted me and my classmate, Zarinah, in front of the Royal Palace in Oslo, Norway.<\/p>\n It sounded like he said the word \u201ceven.\u201d<\/p>\n He gestured towards his friend wearing a bunad, Norway\u2019s national costume. \u201cThis is my friend Odd.\u201d<\/p>\n I stifled a giggle. Even and Odd — now that\u2019s quite the pair. They\u2019re Norway\u2019s very own Chip and Dale, decked out in red jackets and white knee-high socks.<\/p>\n \u201cWelcome to Norge. Especially on the 17th of May,” he said enthusiastically. “It\u2019s a great day to be here in Oslo!\u201d<\/p>\n Indeed it was. May 17th is Norway\u2019s Constitution Day<\/a>, an annual celebration that marks the day in 1814 when Norway adopted its constitution and gained independence from Denmark, and is one of Norway’s most popular holidays. It is so popular, in fact, that many Danes travel across fjords and back through time to witness the spectacle.<\/p>\n The May 17th celebrations were my first impression of the peaceful, ruggedly beautiful country I would later call home for a brief while. While I was living in Aarhus, Denmark, for graduate school, my classmates and I were granted a five-day weekend to travel to Norway in order to experience the May 17th pomp and pageantry firsthand.<\/p>\n Zarinah and I pooled together our pathetic student funds on a ferry ticket, booked a hostel, and boarded the booze cruise from Denmark to Oslo, Norway’s capital city. Crossing the North Sea, the ship navigated through the snow-capped fjords while the music of Grieg faintly serenaded us in the background. Alas, I was slightly hungover from the oil swill I drank the night before, but I was in awe of the dense forests filled with massive fir trees and numerous Norwegian flags dotting the landscape.<\/p>\n Finding accommodations during this festive weekend was difficult, but we thought we scored the deal of a lifetime at a hostel on the outskirts of Oslo. One step inside proved otherwise.<\/p>\n Twenty rickety Ikea beds were hastily placed in front a huge blackboard. \u201cWelcome to Norway\u2019s National Day!\u201d was scribbled in red and blue chalk above the beds.<\/p>\n \u201cWhere in the world are we?\u201d Zarinah stared at me, in disbelief.<\/p>\n \u201cWe\u2019re crashing at Schoolhouse Rock!\u201d I cheekily responded.<\/p>\n Eager to escape yet another classroom, Zarinah and I aimlessly wandered around downtown Oslo. We quickly discovered that springtime in Scandinavia can be quite a trippy place. Daylight lasts beyond 11 p.m., so most of the city was taking full advantage of the extended sunshine by swigging down many pints of Ringnes at Aker Brygge, Oslo\u2019s newly rejuvenated waterfront area. We stopped for our own pint in a bar located in Grunerlokka<\/a>, Oslo\u2019s grungy, Greenwich Village-ish enclave. On every street corner the Narvesens, a one-stop shop for polser (hot dogs) and train tickets, practically outnumbered the Norwegians.<\/p>\n