An apology, to two strangers

It happens once in awhile that I come across some Americans while I'm at work. Hamar is by far not tourist destination #1 in Norway, but Americans pop up here nonetheless--business trips, reconnecting with family, you name it. It's always refreshing to see tennis shoes with khakis and North Face jackets in any weather. Makes me a bit homesick to be honest.

I've also recently met a few more Americans that have moved to this area and are making a living here in one way or another. It's always fascinating chatting with them and swapping stories.

It's strange how close and how disconnected I can feel to my homeland at the same time.
I have to admit it--I've become pretty darn Norwegian.

This reality makes me slightly akward when I have to switch language gears on the spot and wait on Americans. My brain is so long gone in Norwegian service mode that switching over is not always easy. English...who would have known it would challenge me so?

Most recently I served two delightful American ladies at the fancier of the two places I manage, and I made the mistake of saying "let's see if I can translate this correctly..." when I was presenting our amuse-bouche for the evening. This tasty little morsel existed only in my head as hjemmelagd søt-potet chips med wasabi-mayones og lakserogn; there was no English equivalent. And to be honest my fellow West Coastians of table 17, I didn't mean "English is not my mother tongue and I don't know how to translate this", it was much more like "let's see how awkwardly I translate this doozy, and hva faen er lakserogn på engelsk?".

But it went fine--the homemade sweet potato chip, wasabi mayonaise and salmon roe appetizer didn't challenge my language center as much as anticipated. But entertainingly enough, you Californians misunderstood me, and assumed I was Norwegian like many other Americans before you. I get it...I don't look un-Norwegian, I have at least a touch of that charming Scandinavian accent and then I'm standing before you (in Norway) saying things like, "What's that word in English again?" or "I can't think of the word!" It's totally understandable.

So I'm sorry, for not correcting you. And I'm sorry for not owning up to my American roots. But at that point it was too late. You were both so supportive and impressed with my kick ass English skills, that I didn't dare to disappoint you. You did applaud for me after all! 

And honestly, when I have 8 other tables and I'm the only waitress on shift maybe it's not so bad that you both are under the assumption that I'm Scandinavian and thus not overtly friendly (on the American scale of course).

And while I'm apologizing, I should also add that I'm sorry that I enjoyed the entire scenario so immensely. I mean, it's a pretty rad feeling to wow you both with my so-impressive-for-a-foreigner English skills.

Damn, I'm good at speaking English for a Norwegian!
I'll take it.