It seems that when I’m out amongst Norwegians I’m often mistaken for a Dane. Today it was the nurse at the doctor’s office, yesterday it was my daughter’s teacher, and on Saturday it was a Swedish hairdresser. To me this is odd. I have dark hair (much shorter now thanks to a friendly Swede), a big nose, hazel eyes, and a very non-scandinavian last name. So what is it then? Affectionately (I’m sure), they say that I speak Norwegian like I’ve got a potato in my mouth. In other words, I speak Danish. They’re always surprised when I say that I’m Canadian (which I say with a strong Danish accent to confuse them of course). I try - I really do. I use norwegian words and I’ve even figured out the classic ‘mmm’ that Norwegians use to show that they’re listening. But it doesn’t work. So, I’ve decided to give up. From now on it’s potatoes, Carlsberg, ‘country’ greetings like ‘Davs!’ and the liberal use of tongue twisters (Dane’s really do have more fun) like,
Far, får får får? (Dad, do sheep have sheep?)
Nej, får får ikke får, får får lam. (No, sheep don’t have sheep, sheep have lambs)
And if that’s not enough to seal my fate I’ll try,
A æ o æ ø i æ å, æ a! (~ I am from an island in the river, I am)
Apparently I’m one of those immigrants who resists integration.
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