All week there has been mounting excitement in town. Every year this little town of 150 people hosts a political debate among the different party leaders in the country, and they go all out.  The town put out the Norwegian flag, built a market on the pier to sell local fish, hand knit crafts and berries. They constructed a fish restaurant in a fishing warehouse.  Local kids served the dignitaries fish soup, meats and other local dishes. The dessert table looked as though everyone in town had been baking their family favorites for the last month.  They decorated the warehouse with old fishing nets and pictures of the townspeople. The politically curious and politically influential ate together and enjoyed what felt like a real community event.

Our day started with the discovery that the credit card machines did not take our cards.  We were stuck: not enough cash, no ATMs or banks for the next two days, no cash advances from the grocery store, and no one took US dollars.  We had brought double of everything for this reason and things had been fine in Norway as long as we had both cards until today when we encountered “Waldo”.  "Waldo" is what we have named our neighbor as he is EVERYWHERE.   People say that many Norwegians tend to keep to themselves and we had not gotten to know as many people in town as we had hoped to except for “Waldo”. We first met "Waldo" as we chatted with the school principal about hiking, blueberries, and other adventures- then we started seeing him everywhere. The night before he appeared as the girls were struggling to pay at the ice cream truck. Then he saved the day and got us into a festival offering to lend us money when we could not get cash.   Embarrassed and grateful we entered the festival hoping that this would be the last time he would need to help us. All was well until another machine gave us troubles at the fish restaurant and “Waldo” showed up, paid and ushered us in. Though we knew few people in Norway, “Waldo”’s kindness and generosity mark the feeling of this country and our time.  He knew nothing about us including our names, yet he lent us money and insisted on making sure that we saw and enjoyed every part of the festival.  

That same kindness was apparent during the political debates.  People were casual, lively and kind. A woman sat in the front row and knitted a green sweater as a discussion about taxation, industry, and immigration took place a few feet in front of her.  There was a general feeling of respect and simplicity.  As we stood outside the grocery store debating our next move to get cash, the Prime Minister of Norway (with 5.3 million people) walked passed us without hardly any fan fair.   A few people in blue shoes (her party’s color) walked with her, but that was it-no bag checks, no helicopters, no drama. She was kind, eloquent and she and her rivals debated with respect.  It reminded me of best of democracy and our Norwegian experience was in direct contrast to the turmoil and political discourse in our own country.   We came home full, content and exhausted.  We had not had that much human interaction in weeks and we loved every moment of Husoy days!