Today is a holiday in Sweden and, indeed, in much of Europe. It is officially the first day of Summer, which in and of itself is something nice. But in Sweden, it is also called “Midsommar”. Today is the day in which there is the most light-the sun will only barely set, and in general, everyone is in a good mood, hugging, drinking, and singing songs about nature and jumping frogs and whatnot. I find it a bit ironic that the celebrations are to note that the day is mostly light-mostly because it is downhill from here on, this is when we start heading into darker days in a few months.
The day is celebrated with lots of specific foods-you eat something called “sill”, which is raw herring, with small cooked potatoes that are no bigger than radishes. This you eat with a side of sour cream and chives. You wash it down (continuously) with something that they called “Schnapps” , “nubbe”, or “Aquavit” (literally, water of life. Which, to me, basically sums up the point of all alcoholic beverages). Now don’t for one second be fooled into thinking that the Swedish version of schnapps is like a fruity, peachy liqueur. Oh, no. This stuff can strip paint off of houses it is so strong. If you put it in the freezer, it turns into a clear sludgy drink. To be honest, I am not so crazy about the drink, but then again, after four or five shots of it, anyone can be relaxed enough to enjoy schnapps.
Then you progress to traditional fare like meatballs (yes, the Swedes really are big on meatballs) and a dish called “Jansson’s Temptation”, which is basically sliced potatoes, anchovies, and cream. Dessert is more alcohol and strawberries (it amuses me-the Swedish name for strawberries literally translates to “Earth Men”. Fitting name, and makes more sense than “strawberries”.)
But before this monster feast, you’re supposed to dance around a maypole, singing songs that involve various movements, actions, and words. The women wears wreaths of flowers on their heads. And in general, you just drink. The day after Midsummer is a day of quiet and rest-namely because everyone is hung over.
Just before you go to bed, you’re supposed to pick seven wildflowers, put them under the pillow, and the person you dream about is supposed to be the person that you should be with. It’s all terribly pagan and romantic. That, and the number of births peaks wildly nine months after Midsommar here, so you know that most people are getting some the night of the celebrations.
I just can’t get behind the holiday. Not only is it a tough holiday for vegetarians (which I am), but also I think it’s a bit difficult to celebrate holidays that you haven’t grown up with. Ask a Finn to celebrate Guy Fawkes Day, for example. Or an Australian to celebrate Thanksgiving. I think that holidays are something that you just have to be exposed to as a child in order to enjoy.
I thought I would be alone the past two nights, as my Swedish partner was due to be on a business trip. But the trip has been cancelled, and I find myself faced with having to endure the holiday. Which I was all prepared in my mind to not have to face. But he is being a good sport about it and accepts that I am not myself lately, and so the celebrations are suspended.
So if anyone wants to know, tonight I will be making macaroni and cheese. The homemade kind, not the box kind. And I will be serving him a side of sill and potatoes.
I like to think it buys me time out of purgatory to do so.
Posted by Everydaystranger at June 21, 2003 02:40 PM | TrackBack