Every Tuesday (or tirsdag I should say) I leave work at 4 to learn my ancestor’s native tongue. At class we sit at a long table and I’m surrounded by other Norwegians, and maybe an Irish or two, who want to keep their heritage alive. And as the Pastor, our teacher, speaks the sing-song language that my oldemor spoke, I start to day dream of what it would actually be like…the sounds of the bustling streets in Oslo, looking up at towering mountains, finally seeing the fjords…ahhh yes it would be like going back in time! Plus my pasty skin would fit in there, can’t complain about that.
Maybe I could see where my oldemor grew up, even meet some distant relatives? I could try lutefisk (okay maybe I won’t go that far) and I would definitely visit every bakery that I see. Plus I would get to use my Norwegian! Or at least this phrase: Snakker du engelsk? (“Do you speak English?” Remember that one folks!)
The best part about a trip like this would be that I get to explore one of the places where I came from. Does the blood that runs in my veins today come from some Viking? I like to imagine so…when I do something mischievous I just blame it on the Viking in me. I think that is also why I like fur and hunting and eating hefty drum sticks so much. “It’s not my fault! It’s my Viking blood!”…yes that must be it.
I hope the next picture to be added to my Travel Bug page will be of me in Norway! But for now I’ll just keep on day dreaming and using my Viking ancestors as scapegoats for my undisciplined ways…haha! Takk for lesing!
|I've had this artwork hanging in my room ever since I can remember. |
The time has come for me to see it in person!