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June, 2011

  1. Minot Flooding

    June 24, 2011 by Becoming Midwestern

    My grandma called me yesterday from Oregon. She had seen on the news that North Dakota was flooding and she wanted to make sure I was ok. After some reassurance that Fargo is far enough away from Minot that I won’t need to evacuate, I hung up the phone and turned on the news. I wasn’t surprised to see coverage of the Minot flooding; horrific photos of water spilling over the dikes and flooding entire neighborhoods.  I was surprised however, when I realized that the coverage I was watching was not on our local news. Instead, it was live coverage from the national NBC nightly news. That was when it hit me, wow, this is a big deal.

    I know that sounds naive. I know that sounds like I’ve been stuck in my “bubble”, unaware of what is going on around me. My lack of understanding of the severity of this event reminded me off my freshman year of college when Hurricane Katrina hit. My dad called me and said, “Hailey, have you been watching the news about the Hurricane?”

    I replied with an idiotic response that I will never be able to live down in my family: “Hurricane? What hurricane?”

    I’m not here to compare the two catastrophic natural disasters, and am proud to say that I do think time has since made me a lot more worldly. Either way, I was shocked when I realized just how bad the situation in Minot really was. Bad enough to make National News. With all the terrible stories that have been emerging of families evacuating, leaving everything behind, the glimmer of hope is the “we’ll get through this” attitude that is common throughout the Midwest and the fact that people across North Dakota, Minnesota, and other areas of the country are rushing to support Minot and the surrounding communities in every possible way they can.

    I subscribe to the Fargo Beat, a local weekly e-mail newsletter that lists what is going on in the FM area in the upcoming week/weekend. I received their e-mail blast yesterday and at the top of the e-mail it said this:

    “Reason #1,584 why The Fargo Beat loves North Dakota and Minnesota: An evacuee from Minot was being interviewed by the Today Show as he was packing up all of his belongings from his home in order to escape the impending flood. When asked how he felt about it he said, “We’re not like Joplin, Missouri or Alabama, we don’t have to take care of the injured or clean up the dead. We didn’t lose anybody. <knocks on wood> Hopefully.” Now THAT’S perspective. A guy moving everything out of a house he probably won’t come back to and he can still see the bigger picture. You just can’t beat the upbeat attitudes of North Dakotans and Minnesotans.”

    This is just the attitude of people here and the reason why people can handle freezing winters, flooding springs, swarms of mosquitoes, small towns in the middle of no where, and the occasional jab from an outsider trying to mimic a Midwest accent. The people make this place great. They come together to help when someone else is in need, even an entire community. They make an entire state feel like a small town and complete strangers feel like neighbors.

    For more information about the Minot Flooding, visit the Flood of West-Central North Dakota blog.

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  2. A North Dakota Bride

    June 21, 2011 by Becoming Midwestern

    This weekend I had the opportunity to attend a friend’s bridal shower and bachelorette party in Carrington, ND. I was excited to get out of town and have a solid “girls” weekend with friends. Now, I’ve only been to one other shower/bachelorette party in my life, so I still consider myself relatively inexperienced when it comes to the whole bridal scene. My only other reference point was a friend who had her bachelorette party outside of Washington, DC in a pretty ritzy area of town. I’ve been to Carrington before, so I knew it would be no Washington, DC. For those of you that don’t know, Carrington has a population of about 2500. It’s a cute American town where everyone knows each other and most places don’t accept credit cards. I was told to wear a brightly colored party dress and that we would be going out to a few bars. This all seemed pretty normal to me and I was excited for the trip.

    The wedding shower was beautiful with perfect sunny weather. We ate some snacks, played some games and then it was time to get ready for the bachelorette party. In the midst of getting ready, “the bus” was mentioned. This too was nothing that surprised me; a lot of people rent party buses for special occasions.

    The bus.

     

    Soon it was time to go. 20-25 young women, dressed in our finest brightly colored party dress, wheeling coolers of adult beverages, headed out the door to board the bus. I rounded the corner towards the back of the caravan of ladies, and before me lay a green and yellow school bus. Alright… this was a little different… but I’m not picky. We boarded the bus and I realized the seats had been ripped out and replaced with couches. I sat down on my couch and sunk deep into its cushions. I must mention that there was really no lady-like sort of way to sit on these couches, especially when you’re in a dress and heels.

    With a shift of loud gears and a squeal of excitement, the bus was off down the road to our first stop… 40 minutes away. See, here is the thing I didn’t understand until this particular adventure. Most of these small towns are only about 60-70 people, if that. While they may not have a school, they definitely have a bar, and if you want to go bar hopping… you’ve got to travel. (As a side note: none of us were driving the bus. We had a designated driver.)

    We pulled up to our first stop in a town about 40 minutes away from Carrington. The doors of the bus opened, and out flooded a blur of yellow, pink and orange dresses headed to the bar across the street. I can only imagine what the 5 other people in the bar thought as we all stampeded in. I took my time getting off the bus to admire the scenery. I glanced to my right, and I glanced to my left. On either side I saw a handful of buildings that looked straight out of an old western movie. This was Main St.

    Main St. at our first stop.

    I must of had a look of shock on my face, because I had more than one person walk up to me and say, “You probably think this is so redneck.” or “Do you think we’re all just a bunch of hicks?” or even “We’re probably giving you so much to blog about right now.”

    While yes, I was a little stunned at the beginning of the night, it does not mean I wasn’t enjoying myself. On the contrary, I had a blast. I have never been one to criticize different lifestyles, and part of the reason I have fallen in love with the Midwest, is because the culture is so different from anywhere I have lived previously. Instead of staring in shock with my mouth open when I experience something knew, I prefer to jump right in.

    After about 30 minutes, we boarded the bus as quickly as we had come, leaving only a trail of perfume out the door and heel prints in the gravel road. Onward to the next stop!

    About 30 minutes later we arrived at our next destination and a similar scene played out. Occasionally, we landed in a location where the locals in the bar knew the majority of the bachelorette party. At one point, someone came up to a few women I was standing with and was mid conversation with them when he realized I was the only one not from the area.

    “Who is she?” he asked.

    I gave my usual introduction… or more like explanation of myself… and then was warmly welcomed to the town.

    The night came to a close in the wee hours of the morning, and as I headed back to Fargo the next day, I passed one of the bars we had visited the night before. I slowed down and took a good look at it in the daylight. The night before it had been packed with activity, and now, on a Sunday morning, it stood alone on a one-lane road, surrounded by fields, with nothing else in site. I laughed and mumbled a much used phrase over the past year… “Only in North Dakota.”

    As I got closer to Fargo, I had a weird feeling. It felt like I was going home. It made me remember a conversation from the previous evening’s festivities. Throughout the night I was introduced to new people by the bachelorette. She has gotten the introduction down pat, as she was Blake and my main source of social activity during much of the past year. Her introduction would usually go like this:

    “This is my cousin, Blake, and his girlfriend, Hailey. They’re from Washington.”

    On this night there was a difference. Her intro went like this:

    “This is my cousin’s girlfriend, Hailey. She’s from Fargo.”

     

     

     

     

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  3. A Midwest Nice Culture

    June 17, 2011 by Becoming Midwestern

    A friend read my blog the other day and we started chatting about what makes the Midwest so unique. She has grown up in Minnesota her entire life, but commented that what she thinks makes the area so special is that the people that live here really have a sense of pride in their community. Now, I’m sure most people have heard of the phrase “Midwestern nice”. I’m going to take a wild guess here, and assume that the term was most likely coined by someone not from the Midwest. (No one from the Midwest would be so vain to admit that they are in fact nice) But the truth is, people in this area are programmed to be nice. Ok, I mean, I’m not so naive to assume everyone is nice at all times, but to acquaintances and random strangers, they are the friendliest bunch of folks I have ever come into contact with.

    I started to think. Is this sense of pride honest love for their community or does it just go back to the Midwest nice? When Fargo ranks in the top lists for friendliest people and best place to live, would anyone here ever actually admit to disagreeing?

    Judging on the people I’ve met, they truly do love their community. I remember talking to a friend when I moved here. She too had lived in North Dakota her entire life. I was in a panicky phase because I had just moved to a new community far away from any family and friends, and had no idea what to expect. Our conversation went something like this…

    Me- “Well it can’t be that bad here, right? I mean, you like it don’t you?”

    Friend- “Yeah, I love it here. But then again, I don’t really have anything to compare it to.”

    At first her response didn’t really reassure me. The majority of the people I have met have lived here their entire life. Not only have they lived here but their parents have lived here and their parents have lived here and…  you get the idea. The thing is,  the people I have met in the Midwest have been other places. They are not secluded by what they know but seek out opportunities to learn. What keeps them here is not out of obligation, it is because they honestly love being right where they are. They don’t need a new location, a bigger town, more shopping, etc.

    I’ve visited other parts of the country, and most places have an atmosphere specific to that region. For example, the majority of the Pacific Northwest has a laid- back “outdoorsy” vibe. North Carolina, South Carolina and much of the South still holds true to their Southern post-Civil War roots and everything seems to move at a slower pace. On the East Coast, especially near DC, life is crowded and hectic yet energetic and stimulating. Even Southern California has a culture all its own of beach bodies and surfing. Sure, all of these places have stereotypes, the occasional accent specific to the area, and popular local cuisine, but none have a culture like the Upper Midwest.

    With people having legitimate roots in their communities, and with not a lot of outsiders moving in, it creates a unique culture that I have not seen anywhere else. Many of the families can trace their roots, undiluted, right back to Norway or Sweden. And with such an influx of Scandinavian heritage, the culture is celebrated. With unique places like the Hjemkomst Museum where a giant replica of a Viking ship is proudly on display, and bazaar festivals like Lobster and Lefse, Viking Village, and the Scandinavian Festival are the norm, customs and traditions live on.

    While Midwest nice may be a stereotype, I don’t think its a bad thing to have prescribed to the area. In fact, I think other regions of the country should take a  lesson or two from the Midwest: Be nice to others, help your neighbor, and appreciate where you came from.

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  4. It’s not your fault, its asphalt

    June 13, 2011 by Becoming Midwestern

    The beginning of Spring/Summer in the Red River Valley is marked by the smell of grilled hamburgers wafting through the air, the caravan of cars migrating to “The Lake” on the weekend, and the sound of me cursing under my breath as I navigate through traffic cones and road blocks.

    When I moved to North Dakota at the end of last summer, I had never before seen so much road work in one small area. In fact, I had not driven the correct route to work until about three months after I started my job due to 1st Ave. in Moorhead being blocked with construction for so long. Silly me assumed that last summer was just a fluke. That suddenly money was being poured into road improvements and I should be happy that giant potholes were being fixed. However, as the snow began to melt and the birds began to migrate back after a long winter, I realized I was extremely naive.

    In fact, I don’t believe there is a single relief from poor driving conditions the entire year. Let me break it down for you:

    Spring- Flooding= clay dikes and sandbags blocking well traveled roads and at times, roads wash out completely

    Summer- let the construction begin!

    Fall- Let the construction continue

    Winter- Slipping and sliding all over the roads in the feet of snow

    I understand that the road crews are only trying to help. After a harsh winter, what else can be expected than the largest potholes ever known to mankind? To be honest, I almost have issues calling them potholes. They more closely resemble giant craters left from meteorites striking the earth billions of years ago. My poor little car cries as I dip down and out of these giant monstrosities and I pat her reassuringly on the dashboard saying, “It’ll be ok.”

    I started reading around about some of the worst states for roads. I figured North Dakota had to rank up pretty high on the lists. To my astonishment, most of the time North Dakota didn’t even make the list. However, for the defense of my argument, a lot of these surveys also took into account traffic congestion and angry drivers which I don’t believe really exists in the state… at least not compared to Los Angeles or DC. I am a stubborn individual, and no matter how biased it may be, I was determined to find one article related to poor road conditions. Someone had to agree with me. So, (drum roll please) here is an article about the extreme potholes in Midwest. Scroll way down and there is about two paragraphs.

    Unfortunately for me, I never found anything that said we were #1 for worst roads. The silver lining is that we are still #1 for friendliest people, #1 for best economy, in the top 5 for single women to live, and in the top 5 for various other rankings. I guess being #1 for worst roads may make us all start getting big heads. Ya can’t win them all North Dakota, though I’m still routing for you on this one.

     

    Category fargo, midwest | Tags: | 4 Comments

  5. Midwestern Recipes

    June 10, 2011 by Becoming Midwestern

    From lefse to lutefisk, I have been introduced to a wide array of interesting food items during my time in the Midwest. Well, I guess I have to correct myself. While I have been introduced to lutefisk, I have yet to muster up the courage to actually try it. Something about consuming an item that has been dowsed in lye for weeks on end, petrifies me a bit. I have however enjoyed rhubarb crisp, lefse, perogies, Special K bars, cheese curds, cheese filled bratwurst,  tater-tot hotdish, a green, marshmallow, jello-like salad, walleye, tacos in a bag, Leinenkugel beer for every season, “barbecue”, the sweetest corn I’ve ever had, fried Oreos, fried Snickers, fried S’Mores, fried Twinkies, potato-salad in every form, and taco pizza. It’s a wonder that I haven’t gained 20 pounds.

    After sharing yesterday’s post on my Midwestern Dictionary with family and friends, I was told by multiple people that I should compile a Midwestern Cookbook. I thought this was a great idea, especially because the food is part of what makes the culture of the area so unique. The mesh of Scandinavian and German heritage combined with the need to fill one’s belly with hearty goodness to withstand the cold winters, makes for some delicious and sometimes intimidating food options.

    Unfortunately for me, as a transplant to ND, I don’t have a very large repertoire of native recipes. With that in mind, I look to you all to help me compile my list. They can be serious, delicious, funny, complicated, simple or odd. I started a few already on my Midwestern Recipes page, though please keep in mind when I said I’m really lacking on recipes, I’m not kidding. I’ll be sure to credit all that send a recipe and notify you if it is posted. I may even try to cook a few. So send me a message, comment on my page, and happy recipe sharing!

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  6. “U” is for Uff-da

    June 9, 2011 by Becoming Midwestern

    In the past 9 1/2 months since I first moved to Fargo, I have been introduced to a greater variety of new phrases, words, and foods than I ever knew existed within the United States. On a weekly bases I seem to have conversations with co-works, friends and random strangers about this fact and inevitably a greater plethora of new words are added my Midwest vocabulary.

    As I approach the anniversary of my first ever trip to North Dakota and the Midwest (when I first went apartment hunting and stopped by my future place of employment), I decided to compile a list of all of these phrases, words and foods in my own little Upper Midwestern Dictionary. Feel free to offer suggestions.

    • Barbecue: The Midwest equivalent to Sloppy Joes, which are served at most picnics and usually in large quantities. Example: “Why don’t I throw together a little barbecue before the picnic this afternoon?”
    • Bison: (pronounced “Bi-zen”) A large and delicious animal and the mascot for NDSU. Example: “Let’s go watch the Bison play at the Fargodome.”
    • Bars: The name for any type of dessert that is not in cookie, pie, icecream or cake form that is often brought to potlucks. Many bars involve Special K cereal, Rice Krispies, chocolate and peanut butter.
    • “Feels like” Temperature: Take a cold temperature, add some windchill, and you will get the “feels-like” temperature. Example: “The high today is -30 but when you step outside it feels like -50 with windchill.”
    • Glare Ice: The equivalent to black ice except for some reason it is called glare ice.
    • Hotdish: (pronounced “hawt deesh”) A baked item, usually served at potlucks, that is similar to a casserole in other parts of the country. Most hotdishes usually contain a starch, a meat and vegetables (canned or frozen) with the most popular being a Tater-tot hotdish.  Example: “I’ll bring some Special K Bars to the potluck, why don’t you bring a hotdish?”
    • Lefse: (pronounced “lef suh”) A flat tortilla-like treat, with Norwegian roots (as most things are around Fargo-Moorhead), served usually with butter and sugar on top. Speaking from experience, if you did not grow up eating this, you do not find it delicious.
    • Lutefisk: (pronounced “loo tu fisk”) Scandinavian dish made from aged whitefish or dried/salted whitefish and lye. It is gelatinous in texture and has an extremely strong odor. It literally means “lye fish”. Example: Person #1: “Hailey, would you like some lutefisk?” Person #2: “No thank you, I would not like some lutefisk.”
    • North Dakota: (pronounced “Nort Da-koe-tuh) The coldest state in the continental United States.
    • Oh: (pronounced “oooooo”) A word used in the majority of conversations in the upper Midwest.
    • Oh, I suppose: The phrase used in a conversation instead of nodding your head or saying “uh-huh” when someone is speaking to you.  Example: Person #1: “I was driving down the road and I saw a deer.” Person #2: “Oh, I suppose!”
    • Plug In: The action required so that your car is able to start when the temperature is below zero. Plug ins can be found in most large parking lots and residential areas. When you install a plug in on your car, the cord hangs out resembling a small booger hanging out of your cars nose. (Sorry if that was graphic, I just can’t help thinking that every time I see one.)
    • Snow Birds: Upper Midwest residents, usually retired, that head south for the winter. Most Snow Birds head to Phoenix or another location throughout Arizona.
    • The Cities: The shortened name given to Minneapolis and St. Paul. Example: “I’m heading to The Cities this weekend.”
    • The Lake: The location everyone escapes to when the temperature reaches above 32 degrees F. “The Lake” is not a singular location. In fact, going to “The Lake” could be one of the 10,000 lakes throughout Minnesota or one of the many across North Dakota. Example: “Oh, I think I might just head out to The Lake this weekend.”
    • Thunder Snow: The weather phenomenon that occurs when it is snowing with thunder and lightening at the same time.
    • Uff da: (pronounced “oof duh”) An expression of Norwegian origin used in the upper Midwest as a term for sensory overload. It can be used to express astonishment, surprise, exhaustion, frustration or relief. It can also be used as an alternate for most swear words (though of course I never use it this way). Example: “Uff da, look at all that snow outside that I now must shovel.”
    • 20-32 degrees above zero: This temperature marks the beginning of Spring and signals that it is now appropriate to put away your coat and walk around in a t-shirt.

     

     

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  7. Try the Sloppy Joes

    June 8, 2011 by Becoming Midwestern

    After a brief hiatus from the blog-o-sphere, I am back and in full force. Maybe its from the finally warm weather or the flood waters receding or maybe its the site of my calendar filling up with street dances, festivals and Scandinavian related activities. Whatever the reason, let the blogging resume!

    A curious title to today’s post you may think. While Sloppy Joes are not a previously unknown food to me, never before have I had them in such quantities as I have in the past few months. A few days ago I was down in Barnesville for a wall-raising ceremony with work (Habitat for Humanity) and lunch was provided by a local volunteer organization. (Or is it dinner? I can’t ever remember the difference between breakfast, lunch, dinner and supper) As I made my way up to the table for a delicious “lunch”, I saw before me the largest crock-pot of sloppy joe that I had ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. The meal had the usual Midwestern accompaniments as well: potato salad, coleslaw, chips and lemonade, but the sloppy joes were the real show stopper.

    While this food item may seem ordinary to everyone else born and raised from this area, I have to share a secret. No where else in the United States (at least no where else I’ve been) consumes such large quantities of sloppy joes as the Midwest.  (This is not based on any fact other than my own personal observation and consumption) In fact, I don’t ever remember eating sloppy joes during my childhood until I started dating my boyfriend whose family is from North Dakota. Before you gasp and attack my mother for lack of sloppy joes in my upbringing, I have to admit that it could have been because all I ate as a young pup was cheese, pickles and graham crackers.

    The point of this reflection on sloppy joes is not without reason. In fact, it is more of a compliment to the area. If lunch  was served anywhere else not near a kitchen, the meal would mostly consist of cold cuts, lunch-a-ables, or some other store bought item. When I have mentioned this observation to my co-workers, they laughed and said, “Well everyone serves it because its easy”.

    Easy? Hauling a crock-pot full of 2 tons of sloppy joes out to a build site is considered easy? Wow, never ask me to cater a lunch or I guarantee you will see easy: a bucket of KFC and canned soda.

    Once again, I tip my metaphorical hat to you mighty Midwest, for your dedication to the importance of providing a hearty home cooked meal no matter the location.

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