Eric Dregni - For the Love of Cod: A Father and Sons Search for Norwegian Happiness

Also by Eric Dregni Published by the University of Minnesota Press

In Cod We Trust: Living the Norwegian Dream

Vikings in the Attic: In Search of Nordic America

Never Trust a Thin Cook and Other Lessons from Italys Culinary Capital

Lets Go Fishing! Fish Tales from the North Woods

By the Waters of Lake Minnetonka

Youre Sending Me Where? Dispatches from Summer Camp

Minnesota Marvels: Roadside Attractions in the Land of Lakes

Midwest Marvels: Roadside Attractions across Iowa, Minnesota, the Dakotas, and Wisconsin

Eric Dregni

University of Minnesota Press

Minneapolis

London

Map of Norway and all photographs courtesy of the author.

Front cover art: (guitarist) Andreas, CC BY-SA 2.0; (Viking) khosrork / 123RF.com; (Hurtigruten) Justin Hall, CC BY 2.0; (warehouses) copyright Getty Images / Ketkarn sakultap; (UFO) copyright Getty Images / William Andrew; (Heddal stavkirke) Delabat, CC BY-SA 4.0; (seal) Andreas Trepte, CC BY-SA 2.5; (cod) Krasowit / Shutterstock; (flag) bengt-re, CC BY 2.0.

Copyright 2021 by Eric Dregni

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

Published by the University of Minnesota Press

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ISBN 978-1-4529-6298-6 (ebook)

Library of Congress ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020058653

The University of Minnesota is an equal-opportunity educator and employer.

My dad took me to Scandinavia when I was sixteen. Now it was my turn to take my son. The only problem was I didnt have the money.

Thirty-five years after my dad brought me back to the homeland, I realized he had given me the gift of a true view of the origin of our ancestors and the struggles they went through to cross the ocean. The vague images I had of Scandinavia, which were based largely on stereotypes, things Id read and watched, and family lore, were put to the test as we traveled together by train and bicycle to visit relatives and take in the stunning scenery illuminated with gentle summer sun. Although I could embrace or reject parts of this Scandinavian background, I could no longer ignore that this was part of my identity.

Now I wanted my son Eilif to have the same revelation. If he were just exposed to the complexities of these forward-looking countries that are steeped in history, perhaps his world would be opened up too. Eilif had spent five summers at a Norwegian language camp in northern Minnesota, so I imagined hed be ready for a big voyage over to the homeland.

The only problem was I didnt have the money. I looked at our finances and saw that we couldnt afford two airline tickets. To cut expenses, I figured out a way to co-lead a trip around Norway to pay for my ticket. Id stay there afterward, and Eilif could fly over to meet me.

In planning our trip, I discovered we couldnt afford to stay in hotels either. Id already told Eilif about this grand plan, however, so I hesitated canceling his ticket. I wrote to friends and relatives in Norway, begging them to let us sleep in their spare bedrooms for a couple of nights.

Norway is no longer the most expensive country in the world (as of this writing, its moved to fourth place), but it can now boast that its the happiest country in the world, according to the World Happiness Report from the United Nations in 2017. I was perplexed. My wife, Katy, and I had lived in Trondheim for a year, and it had never struck me as a glowingly joyous place, with its dark winters and reserved citizens. What does happiness even mean? a tour guide in Stockholm had once asked me, with perhaps a bit of envy. I dont see the Norwegians as any happier than us Swedes.

Eilifs godmother, Inger, in Oslo also didnt understand this new rating. Happiness? We have bad weather, the highest prices for beer, and things are so expensive!

When my dad had taken me to Scandinavia for a few weeks when I was a teenager, I remember easily affording flashy New Wave clothes in Oslo (the Norwegian band A-ha was at the top of the charts at the time). I was enamored with the laid-back but stylish lifestyle and the way people started sentences with We believe that... or We like... Id never heard that before since I would never assume I knew what other people believe or like. They seemed to speak this way to show unity and a sense of community.

Perhaps this is why Eilif had also latched on to his Nordic roots? Im Norwegian, he declared, but I wonder if its true.

Eilif was born near Trondheim fifteen years ago, but the Norwegian government didnt automatically give him citizenship. Technically he was without any citizenship for his first few weeks of life as we waited for the U.S. Embassy in Oslo to approve his passport. Perhaps what it means to be Norwegianor American for that matteris an open question, but I cant say hes wrong to want to claim this other nationality.

His first name, Eilif, is very Norwegian, but he only lived in Norway for his first seven months. Our last name, originally Draegni, is from the Sognefjord, but Im only one-eighth Norwegian. How Norwegian can we be? Katy thanks her stars that she isnt Scandinavian and was able to avoid that particular superiority complex, after marrying me and dealing with a family that is a little too proud.

She gave birth to Eilif outside of Trondheim the year we lived there. The Norwegian government paid for the delivery, plus gave us a bonus five thousand dollars to help with expenses. Could all of this financial help be one of the reasons for Norwegian happiness?

The Norwegians knocked the Danes out of first place in the happiness battle in 2017, and then the Finns were crowned as the kings of cheer the year after. Really? My friend Emily who went to teach in Copenhagen asked her third grade Danish students why Norway got this years prize. They only got it because they have so much money, little Buster complained, and his classmates enthusiastically agreed. They assured their teacher that Denmark is still better.

A former honorary consul of Denmark once told me, The Danes are so happy because they have low expectations. If you dont expect anything good to happen, everything is fine. I wake up thinking that I could be dead. If Im alive, then Im happy. Hardly a glowing outlook on life.

Perhaps this reflects the clichd Minnesotan saying, It could be worse. As in, during subzero winters when everything is terrible, at least you havent lost a limb to frostbite (yet). If this is the scale of happiness, anything looks good. This is vastly different from when Katy and I lived in Italy for a couple of years and people had high expectations of a good life, delicious food, and cool sunglasses. And they complained often.

I found during our time in Norway that Norwegians rarely grumbled about their situation, but they almost never exclaimed about how good they had it either. Though we lived there for one year and I studied the language for almost three, I never learned the exact Norwegian word for happy. Was this because its bad form for Norwegians to brag about their good fortune? No one actually told me they were happyperhaps they didnt want to brag.