Journey to Norway Leads Home

Hilsen fra Norge!

I’m sitting at my grandfather’s childhood home in the majestic mountains of Norway’s Valdres Valley.

I arrived here with two siblings, two nieces and the leader of our 10-day expedition, my fearless Norsk mother. For years we have enjoyed her lefse and flatbread, now we have the precious opportunity to accompany her on her final trip to her father’s homeland. Her goal is to forge relationships between the next generation of Hermundstad descendants living in the U.S. and Norway.

It’s difficult to adequately describe the spectacular landscape of this country. I have explored the Rocky Mountains and visited the Swiss Alps. As handsome as these ranges are they don’t begin to match the striking beauty of the mountains, valleys, farms and fjords of Norway.

The countryside is the cleanest I’ve ever seen. A patchwork quilt of yellow and green fields covers the lower regions of the mountain ranges providing the perfect setting for quaint farm houses, barns and grazing sheep.

It looks and feels completely authentic, but I wonder if there is a national ordinance regulating the colors of homes and rooftop shingles. Virtually every farm home is the same shade of red, yellow, cream, white, or black. Where’s the crazy neighbor with the lavender or teal home?

Turns out my suspicion isn’t too far from the truth. According to our relatives, property owners are not allowed to sell their farm land for development. Fields must remain in the same shape and use in order to maintain the picturesque countryside. The term “strip mall” must be a curse word in this country.

As if the mountains and vegetation aren’t impressive enough, Norway is filled with water. Crystal clear lakes lie both in the valleys and on top of the mountains. Fjords creep inland from the North Sea and can be 10,000 feet deep while only a few hundred yards wide.

And then there are the waterfalls. It’s not unusual to see three, four or more waterfalls at any given time. So abundant are they that Norway produces virtually all of its electricity from hydroelectric power generated by waterfalls.

I’m observing some cultural surprises as well. Norwegians love the outdoors and exude health and vitality. “Bunads” may be the traditional dress, but spandex and athletic shoes are Norway’s modern-day costume.

At the same time, another national pastime appears to be smoking, despite massive efforts to discourage it. One pack of cigarettes costs about $12, and each boasts bold, oversized warnings like, “Smoking Kills” or “Smoking is highly addictive and difficult to stop. Don’t start smoking.”

We were warned about the high cost of traveling in Norway. It is rated the most expensive place in the world. But nothing could prepare me for paying more than $20 for a pack of four “AA” batteries, $10 for a gallon of gasoline or $12 for a small draft beer. Fortunately, we are so confused by the exchange rate we rarely know how much we are actually paying.

There are noticeable differences in the practice of marriage in Norway versus the U.S. Very few couples here bother with marriage. They live together for years, share possessions and property and even raise multiple children, but they don’t get married.

The nearest thing to an explanation we’ve heard is that hosting a wedding in Norway is really expensive. Apparently, potluck receptions in the church basement were invented by immigrants after arriving in America.

The biggest surprise of all is the quick affinity I’ve developed for my Norwegian relatives. I barely knew of these people a few days ago, and have already tears while saying goodbye to some of them. I look forward to nurturing these relationships through the internet and having these gracious people in my life forever.

My grandfather was born and raised in this country. In 1904, not even 20 years old, he left the safety of his family and lavish beauty of Norway to start new in America. He landed in the flat and open prairies of North Dakota -- poor, alone and unable to speak English.

He struggled, worked insanely hard, and eventually made it. I’ve often wondered if he ever regretted his decision to leave.

I’m sure he missed his family and the landscape of Norway, but today as I stand under the same towering mountains where he pondered his decision more than 100 years ago, I can better understand why he left.

While I’m awestruck by my surroundings, I find myself longing for the freedom of sight, movement and spirit that is available in abundance on the North Dakota plains.

I wish my grandparents were here today so I could say, “Tusen takk,” a thousand thanks, for the Norwegian American heritage they so proudly passed along.

We can all Go for the Gold

The Olympics have always captivated me. “The thrill of victory … and the agony of defeat.” I so wanted to be Mary Lou Retton landing two “perfect 10s” on the vault to secure a gold medal.

When I was in college, I had the unique experience of seeing the life of Olympic athletes up close as a journalism intern at the Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs. I lived, ate and played at the Olympic training complex just like all the athletes – with one distinct difference. They spent five hours a day testing the limits of their minds and bodies for the prospect of Olympic gold. And I sat in a desk writing press releases for five dollars a day.

Despite the meager wages, it was a fair trade. I lived for free at the foot of Pikes Peak and gained a real lesson in what it means to be completely focused, truly committed to a singular purpose. To believe that a crazy dream is not only possible but worth making significant sacrifices to achieve.

Most of the athletes I met were living a long way from home. They were investing time, money, freedom and their youth for a remote chance to be among the world’s elite in their sport.

While carefree interns like me were going out dancing, they were going to bed early for rest. While we explored the Rockies, they stayed home to avoid risking an injury.

Day in and day out, years before their next chance to try out for the Olympics, they were risking everything to accomplish their goal. It seemed a fairly lonely pursuit, often monotonous, and filled with ups and downs and factors that were often beyond their control.

The smiles on those who achieve the ultimate dream, reach their full potential and earn Olympic gold, tell of the incredible personal investment involved.

Few of us are called to this level of athletic achievement. Daily struggles and the inertia of past decisions can certainly bog us down, making us feel like we are destined for mediocrity. But at this time when the demise of yet another political statesman, John Edwards, is front page news, we can learn from other, more genuine examples of excellence offered by our Olympic sportsmen and women.

Through incredible discipline, focus, hard work and sacrifice, they are shattering world records, setting new standards of distinction in their sport and ultimately achieving their own potential for greatness.

The playing fields for most of us are in our kitchens, classrooms and businesses. But the potential for greatness in each one of us, and the formula for achieving it, is much the same.

Bailouts Costing More than Money

Last week’s passage of the home mortgage bailout has received a fair amount of media attention. However, between the comic-book like characters involved – Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac – and the general complexity of banking and finance terms, it’s tempting to hear the news and think, “Oh good. That’s taken care of. Now … what am I making for dinner?”

The home mortgage crisis has irritated me since it first hit the news. I am no economist or finance expert but I do understand this much. The issue, at its core, is that people received loans who should not have from banks and credit agencies that should have known better.

Most of problems stemmed from the use of “ARM” (adjustable rate mortgages) loans. These tempting buggers start out with a “teaser” rate that’s typically lower than a fixed-rate loan. These low initial rates make a house seem more affordable, at first. After the initial period, however, the interest rate can fluctuate, sometimes significantly.

And that’s exactly what happened. Faced with much higher interest rates, many “subprime” borrowers (people who were not “prime” candidates for loans because of their low credit rating) can’t afford their home mortgages. The “what ifs” that these borrowers, their lenders and credit analysts should have considered before closing the sale, became not just an inconvenient detail but the cold, hard reality.

It’s an ugly situation – made worse by job losses and high prices for food, gas and other essentials.

The solution, although it promises to save up to 400,000 people from losing their homes, could be even uglier for our nation long term. Our leaders in Congress authorized the Federal Housing Administration, a.k.a. the U.S. government, a.k.a. you and me, to insure up to $300 billion in refinanced mortgages to help prevent foreclosures.

They also approved billions of future potential investments into the “quasi-private” mortgage giants Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac – entities that already receive preferential treatment from the government. Sounds like the federal government is taking another giant leap into the home loan business.

I’m not in favor of hundreds of thousands of people losing their homes. But allow me some anger and frustration when “we the people” have to spend potentially billions of dollars to compensate for lousy decisions made by financiers and borrowers who could have, should have, and I believe did, know better.

If a child had exercised such a poor decision, it would be a powerful learning opportunity. But apparently, the ramifications to our economy and our politicians in an election year are too devastating to allow anyone to seriously suffer from these bad choices.

A few in Congress issued warnings against these bold steps. Representative Jeff Flake of Arizona said during the House debate, “This bill has moral hazard written all over it. We are pretending to chain a monster here, and we are, instead, letting that monster loose.”

The monster looms in the question, if Congress, not the marketplace, is going to determine winners and losers, where do the bailouts end? Our system is based on profits and losses. The potential for loss keeps people from taking irresponsible risks.

If the government has our back, what’s stopping millions of Americans who took a more conservative (and expensive) loan from the more risky route next time?

The lopsided vote by which the measure passed in the Senate (72-13) sugarcoats the disturbing precedent this legislation creates.

Wait a minute. I guess it’s not really a new precedent. After the Bear and Stearns bail out a few months ago maybe it’s more like a trend.

Let’s hope not.

Putting Some "Farm" Into our Kids

Pulitzer Prize winning author Thomas Friedman has said when he was a child his parents told him to finish his vegetables because there were kids in China and India who were starving. Today, Friedman tells his own kids to finish their math and science homework because there are kids in China and India who are starving for their jobs.

America has lost millions of manufacturing jobs to emerging nations. Now our higher skilled jobs and professions -- computer programming, accounting, engineering and legal services – are subject to outsourcing.

These are unnerving trends, devastating to those who have lost their jobs. It remains to be seen what role American workers will play in the global economy. For me today, I worry about what my kids and grandkids will do to provide for themselves.

Part of securing a strong future for our kids is certainly what Friedman suggests – better education with more rigorous science and math skills.

But I believe there is another value at play here that’s just as important as academics, and is likely contributing to the sluggish academic performance of our youth. It’s what sends me searching for a way to get my kids on a farm, not really to learn how to mass-produce commodities.

I want them to learn how to work.

Really work -- not just unloading the dishwasher, collecting household trash or dusting a shelf -- but working from dawn to dusk, learning how to fix machines, haul manure and pitch in when all hands are needed for harvest or round up.

People who live on a farm learn how to solve problems, be resourceful and innovative, self-start and work hard without complaining. These are not the lessons you learn playing video games, watching TV or even engaging in many of the organized activities that dominate our children’s schedules.

The problem is, I haven’t met very many (or any) farmers who are real interested in employing my kids even when they are old enough. So, short of abandoning our professions and joining an Amish colony, how can we instill farm values in city kids? Can we foster a rural work ethic in our urban children?

Here are three ways to try:

Every family member helps: Children are valuable helpers on a farm, and should be in our homes too. Ditch the cleaning and lawn services and delegate these chores to the kids whenever possible. Who are we helping when an able bodied teenager is watching TV while a paid cleaning lady vacuums under their feet?

Do it yourself: Rather than throwing broken items away or calling a repair man, let your kids attempt to fix the busted chair, unclog the drain, or change the oil in your car. Consider the extra patience (and even money) it may cost an investment in the satisfaction your child will gain in trying and maybe even solving the problem.

Work first, play second: Our culture places high value on entertainment and fun. As parents we are the only ones who can provide the healthy and necessary balance our kids need through a reasonable dose of work and responsibility. Free time is the reward for a job well done.

We might not be able to raise our kids on a farm. But with some effort and firm resolve to ignore their inevitable complaints, we can instill some valuable farm-like work ethics and ingenuity in our kids. Businesses will always be starving for that.

Lessons Learned on Summer Vacation

The title of this story is, “How I drove 2,000 miles and learned to appreciate North Dakota wind.”

Last winter, my brother in Texas called and asked us to partake in a big family vacation at Lake of the Ozarks near Branson, Mo. With minimal consideration, my husband agreed, so I paid the deposit and happily left the arrangements to my brother.

We began to think about the trip, in earnest, about one week before we were scheduled depart. I logged onto Mapquest to plan our route and discovered how many miles exist between Bismarck and Branson: 1,007. That’s 16 ½ hours with stops.

I gingerly told my husband, sitting across from me with his computer, who promptly logged on to Mapquest himself to verify my facts. Next year, I suspect vacation planning will be a joint venture.

The next day, a friend said, “I hope you’re going to change your position on DVDs in the car. You can borrow ours.” Which is what I intended to do. We were just past Sterling when I realized I forgot to take her up on the offer. Oh well, only 1,989 miles to go.

The night before we left I searched for any possible excuse to get out of it. Not the trip really, but the two-page list of tasks leading up to it – completing work projects in advance, packing clothes and toys and food, preparing the car and the house and the yard, finding caretakers for the dogs and the plants.

Staying home is always an appealing prospect the day before a trip.

But as soon as we were on I-94 heading east I remembered something. I love road trips. And this one, it turns out, was to be our most successful venture yet.

Traveling is a learning experience. Here are a couple insights – new or reinforced –from our recent journey.

After dragging kids who can’t swim down water slides or toddlers who need a nap to museums I have finally learned that less is more when traveling with kids. They enjoy splashing in the pool or playing in the lake as much if not more than expensive, crowded, and all-too-often disappointing attractions.

I have multiple friends who have returned from Disneyworld to say their kids enjoyed the hotel pool as much as the theme parks. Maybe it’s all just too much?

On this trip we tried to resist paid attractions and leisurely hung out by the pool and the lake, played cards, read books, swam, walked and ate simple meals without looking at the clock.

My four year old, who was previously scared to go underwater, declared with gusto that his favorite part of the trip was, “Jumping in the pool.” That’ll be a sweet memory when he’s 14 and we’re paying $50 for his admission into an amusement park.

This trip also renewed my appreciation for the Midwest. We drove 2,000 miles across four plains states and I never got tired of the landscape – lush green fields, rolling hills, quaint farms with warm red barns, quiet little towns or friendly cities that aren’t too big or too busy.

We watched enormous thunderstorms and vivid rainbows form miles across the horizon. These sites aren’t just spectacular for their beauty but for the comfort and serenity they invoke in the beholder.

As I was roasting by the pool with my sister one afternoon, I raved about the Ozark’s hot, still, mosquito-free climate. She told me about a friend of hers who moved to Williston from Missouri. This woman’s favorite thing about North Dakota isn’t the friendly people, the good schools or affordable housing. She loves the wind.

This seems almost impossible after the spring we just endured. But I thought about it during our remaining days of vacation. Sitting by the pool was glorious, but as I imagined mowing the lawn in that heavy air I wanted to turn my head and feel a gust of fresh, crisp North Dakota wind.

Dorothy was right. There’s no place like home.

Bowden plows fields of scorn

Award-winning author Charles Bowden, who wrote the National Geographic article “The Emptied Prairie” about North Dakota’s dismal hopes, visited our state last week and offended our good nature once again.

Let me start by saying, Bowden offered some thought-provoking observations about geography and the errors humans are making in an effort to defy the natural limitations of our earth. I’m glad I heard him speak and have been contemplating many of his points.

But his lecture provided little context for the “Emptied Prairie” piece. And his defensive attitude – calling those like the Governor who object to the article “dishonest” and “illiterate” because “even a 10 year old in Arkansas” can understand it -- discredits him as a writer.

The record created by this story needs to be corrected in two ways.

First, from the minute the article appeared and North Dakotans cried foul, Bowden and Geographic editors have insisted that “The Emptied Prairie” was not about North Dakota. The photos for the story came first and Bowden crafted his story around them. It was supposed to be a piece about abandoned buildings.

Perhaps. But in its published form, the article is very much a commentary on life in North Dakota. Bowden’s impressive credentials obviously haven’t earned him any manners, but he should realize that when he specifically names a place 25 times in one article, his observations will paint a very strong picture about that place and the people who live there.

A publication with the reputation of National Geographic ought to be honest enough to admit the article went far beyond an exploration of abandoned buildings.

Second, the core premise of the article is wrong. He concludes that in most places, “abandoned buildings are a sign of change and shifting economic opportunities.” But on the “High Plains” (like North Dakota) “they always mean that something in the earth and sky mutinied against the settlers.”

Bowden said homesteaders believed rain would follow the plow, “but learned better.”

The message of these poetic statements is that the land, the geography here, is unsuitable for farming or habitation in general. The fact that North Dakota is the top producer of 16 different agriculture commodities is apparently just a pesky, dismissible little detail.

The decline of North Dakota’s small towns and the abandoned buildings that remain are most certainly the result of shifting economic opportunities, just like the rest of the country. My own family is an example of this.

My dad grew up on a small grain farm near Ryder, N.D., an hour southwest of Minot. As the oldest son of six children, he spent his childhood toiling on that land and dreamed of farming himself someday. But his father had other plans.

Despite having only a sixth-grade education, my grandpa recognized the changing economics of farming. In less than 20 years, he saw his own operation grow from 160 acres worked entirely by horse-drawn equipment, to 800 acres farmed by fully automated tractors and combines.

He boarded my dad on a train to UND saying, “Get an education Duane. You can always farm, but no one can ever take your education away from you.”

My dad and countless other farm kids never returned to the farm, but that same land is still in production. And so is my dad. He has remained in North Dakota his entire life, creating a successful career and raising a happy family here.

North Dakotans are proof that you can certainly live a prosperous life in this state. You just can’t make it on a 160-acre parcel of land like the original settlers thought. Economic opportunities changed that plan.

This isn’t the dramatic story penned by Bowden of a land dominated by suicides, emptiness and unfulfilled dreams caused by a relentless, unlivable geography. But it is the truth.

Any 10-year-old can understand that.

Is expensive gas a real bargain?

I drove past a local Starbucks last week and noticed a line for the drive through that wrapped around the entire building, out of the parking lot and into the adjoining service road where two more cars waited with blinkers on to join the parade of coffee seekers.

Just beyond this line, a neighboring gas station declared the price of gasoline at $3.83/gallon.

I suspect most of the people in those cars were like me, and bemoaned paying nearly $4 a gallon for gasoline. Yet, I doubt many of them hesitated to pay just as much for 16 ounces of high-octane coffee.

I had to ask myself which product is really overpriced? Filling my 20-gallon tank with Starbucks mocha would cost about $640.

Soaring gas prices are lowering the balance on everyone’s bank account. Not just at gas stations but everywhere we turn prices are up. A basic round of errands like filling up the car, buying groceries and replenishing household necessities can quickly consume $300.

This is a serious, unsettling, painful matter. Economists estimate that every additional penny at the pump takes roughly $1 billion out of overall spending. Half of all adults say the rising cost of gasoline has had a big impact on their personal lifestyle, and low-income people are suffering the most.

What’s most disturbing is there are no apparent quick fixes. There’s no “federal bail out of the housing finance system” available on this issue.

Today’s high gas prices may well be the beginning of a Great Depression of our generation. Or perhaps expensive gas is a blessing for America and the world. The fact that there are no “easy ways out” of this crisis is triggering three important, long-overdue actions.

First, gas and energy prices are prompting necessary, realistic discussions on the local, state and national level about our energy needs and how to meet them.

An alarm went off on this issue 30 years ago and we’ve been hitting snooze ever since. Now we must wake up and get real. Extremists on all sides will be forced to either compromise or become irrelevant.

If we’re going to heat and light our homes, operate our vehicles and fuel a viable economy, we must begin to aggressively employ all of our potential energy sources – everything from geothermal and wind to nuclear, coal and our domestic oil supplies.

Second, high energy prices are forcing us to be more efficient, at home, in business and in government. Sales of motorized scooters increased 24 percent nationwide in the first quarter of the year, while sales of SUVs are plummeting.

People are searching for ways to drive less – coordinating rides with friends, consolidating errands, or just staying home. High operating costs are prompting farmers to employ high-tech innovations that decrease expenses by using less fertilizer, less water and less fuel.

The biggest beneficiary of efforts to use less energy, spend less money and meet our long-term energy needs will be the environment. Saving money is a much better motivator than even the direst warnings of global warming. I can easily ignore climate change but I might walk or bike to work to lower my gas bill.

Our energy challenges are daunting, but they have huge potential to trigger American innovation. As Plato said, necessity is the mother of invention. We are a nation of inventors.

I have great faith that American ingenuity unleashed in force on this challenge will create new energy solutions that will forever change the way we work, play and live. We are going to suffer along the way, but the changes will make us more efficient, more active, and will be good for our planet.

In the long run, expensive gas may be a bargain for all of us.