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I am sitting in the classroom, bored to death and thinking about the upcoming weekend. Our biology teacher is giving us a lecture on some animals, or maybe viruses, I don’t really know and don’t really care… All of a sudden, we hear a terrible noise and the door opens. A bunch of students, all dressed the same, enter our classroom, screaming and whistling. They start running in circles, sprinkling water on us with water, pulling our arms to take us to the hallway. We are very confused, but willing to agree on whatever can save us from the boring lecture… As soon as we leave the classroom, there are plenty of things to see: our beautiful, tidy, prim and proper school has been turned into a mess. Some wild, half-drunk-looking students are running around, wearing colourful T-shirts… The noise is unbearable, but the sight is beautiful. They seem to be so happy, so free, so united, but on the other hand, somehow sad, as the time has come when they have to say goodbye to their school, their “other home”… This was when I first realized I couldn’t wait to be one of them. To take part in “Norijada”, one of the most popular gatherings among high school population of Croatia. “Norijada” is a celebration held for and by senior students who are to graduate soon. The very word “norijada” literary means “capering”, and stands for a day-long celebration that takes place at the end of May – the last day of school for high school graduates. The whole generation of students, a couple of thousands of them, get out into the streets, in order to celebrate the end of their obligatory education. Being a freshman, I was so envious watching them. I wanted so much to be a part of them, to have fun and to share the freedom… They seemed to be getting along so well together… This unity of theirs, now I know, was achieved not such a long time ago – they started getting along well on their graduating-class excursion, which took place a year before this celebration…This is when they started preparing for this day. First and foremost, they discuss the T-shirts they will be wearing. Namely, each class tends to be special, different, unique. Once upon a time graduates were more imaginative and used to have special clothes made for the occasion. Nowadays, they are modest and tend to show their identity by wearing “individualized” T-shirts. Designing their own “image”, they show their creativity, imagination, motivation and interest in becoming “the unbreakable unit”. The first thing they have to agree upon is the colour. This decision is usually a compromise between male and female students’ suggestions. If a school is famous (or notorious) for the lack of boys (as in my case), students will wear “girlish” colours, and vice versa. Anyway, when the colour is voted on and agreed upon, they have to decide on the text that is to be printed on top. It has a greater sentimental value than the colour, because every class puts a sign that means most to them, a kind of a “logo”, some internal joke known only to them, a part of a song they used to sing when on excursions, or they simply put a general, usually funny remark about education or educational system (which is the most common one). Actually, my generation was different. All the students in my generation wore blue T-shirts with Superman sign in the middle, and each class had its own letter (as classes in Croatia are distinguished by letters). The back of the T-shirts usually lists names of all the students in the class, as well as their classmaster’s. So, when finally the students have managed to agree upon the details regarding their T-shirts (which is not easy, believe me), they start negotiating the place of the event. However, no matter what, and regardless the time spent on finding out the new and original ideas, the outcome is more or less always the same, as well as the route of their “destructive pilgrimage”: First, they go to visit their “former” schools, to bother their teachers and to impress “the young and innocent” school population, who look up to them. They do it by running around and along the school, devastating what they can, showing freedom, independence, and, despite their age, a total lack of maturity. After the school, they usually choose to go to Ban Jelačić Square, to show the tourists and the rest of the world that being eighteen means not being adult at all. They display their savagery there for a while, and after that, having demolished several trams and facades, they start making for Jarun Lake, where the real party actually takes place. And when finally the D-Day comes, the city wakes up fearing the day ahead. People try to hide their cars to protect them from vandalism, they avoid the centre of the town, or, if they have to take the same route as the graduates do, they choose to put on old garments, as they may expect to be covered in flour, eggs, and water. The sense of eminent disaster is in the air, as if a stampede is about to devastate the city…And here they come: colourful, noisy, cheerful and still pretty tidy. They haven’t met with the rest of their class yet and they still haven’t bought the booze. Songs and the sound of whistles fills the streets of Zagreb, and passers-by who happen to be around are still not endangered, as the students are at this point of the day harmless and “just childish”. Their destination: the meeting point from which they will make for their respective schools. At this point, their pockets hide water pistols and similar weapons they will try to smuggle into their schools in order “to punish” the ones who used to tortured them. The school has already prepared its defense lines: there is a front line to be passed – a barrier made from their invincible teachers, and they cannot enter until their pockets are checked and emptied. However, someone somehow always finds a way to smuggle a pistol or two, so the school cannot be spared of the mess… Although disarmed and weaponless, the students are not discouraged – they will find a means to damage something… They start running along the school, singing, screaming and whistling, until they get short of air. In the meanwhile, all the other students (freshmen, sophomores, juniors), still part of the school, envious and sad, and the teachers, nervous and angry, are looking at them, “the savages” who show their independence and power, freed from authorities and able to do whatever they want to. It reminds me of the book by William Golding, “The Lord of the Flies”, in which children, as soon as they find out they are alone on the island, far away from civilization and society, start to behave like savages. When they finally pull themselves together, the program can begin. And the program is what they prepared in class while still being at school. Their performances are more or less successful (it depends on the state they are in), and once they finish, they call out their teachers’ names, as a sign of respect. This is their way of expressing gratitude and this is the only occasion when the teachers actually enjoy and are able to smile, maybe because they are flattered or they simply feel relieved because they know this is the end of this farewell party, as the crowd will soon leave the premises and start making for another destination – Ban Jelačić Square. When they reach Ban Jelačić Square, the students are not as “tidy and dear” as they were in the early morning. They have become loud, unruly, aggressive and willing to fight. The square turns into a huge arena and at this point there is no one who approves of their behaviour. People are shocked and disgusted and determined to ask the authorities to ban this savagery in the centre of the town. Actually, that was what the authorities wanted to achieve: the central celebration would be held far away from the centre of the town, but no one could stop the students from coming here. After a series of egg-, tomato- and flour-fights, the graduates try to tidy themselves up in the fountain situated in the middle of the square. Some of them will never reach the final destination – Jarun Lake, as they will be taken to hospital. Those who “survived” will finally realize it was time to leave and, living a mess behind, they will stampede towards Jarun, vandalizing trams, cars, facades on their way. Once they reach the Lake, their excitement reaches its peak, as they meet their peers from other Zagreb high schools. The government has done their best to please them and to avoid further destruction – the most popular Croatian singers have been invited to entertain the young and to raise the atmosphere. However, there are other options: the students fond of music but not of the unbearable crowd, may entertain themselves in bars all over the lake shore. And the third choice, my favourite, is sitting on the beach, the whole class together, singing and playing the guitar (if it survived the turbulent day), remembering the school days and enjoying their last days together. That is a very emotional situation and a beautiful experience (for those who are sober enough to remember), and this is probably the purpose of this day. The celebration usually takes place until the early hours of the morning, when they all have to face the cruel reality and accept that their school is over and that they are on their own now. The day after usually shows the bad side of this seemingly idyllic and harmless celebration. As soon as one opens the newspapers, one gets confronted with titles depicting a series of catastrophes that occurred the day before: “3 boys jumped into the fountain and broke their necks – critical condition” “42 students suffered minor injuries in a fight yesterday” “7 students ended up having a gastric lavage done because of too much alcohol” “27 students brought in yesterday for their delinquency” “7 trams vandalized in yesterday’s rampage” “A tram-driver attacked by a group of drunken students” … Every year the government is trying to do something to prevent this vandalism and the rampage through the town, but in vain. And although young people themselves disapprove of what they are witnessing those days, they still can’t wait to become a part of this mob and to do the same… It is sad to see that young people don’t cherish the most beautiful days of their lives and don’t know how to enjoy them. There isn’t much to do, actually, but to wait for young people to come to their senses and realize what is important. Maybe future graduates will prove their maturity (after all, the exam which is ahead of them is called a “matura” exam, which means “a check of their maturity”) by refusing to descend to the level of savages and behaving the way reasonable young people would – they should set an example for the next generations who will look up to them. When this goal is achieved, when added some dignity and sense, “norijada” will become the most important and the most beautiful experience of their school days. |
| svibanj, 2005 | ||||||
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