A Seed In Foreign Soil

– Sigurda’s poetry, embroidery, traditional costumes, folk dance, and her involvement in the Daughters of Norway

«Ho la ifrå seg kjolen, batt fletta saman med ei reim, og dyppa kroppen i det iskalde blå vatnet. Stille. Eit drag over brystkassa. Ein rytme i armane. Ho visste ikkje kva ho symde mot, berre at ho ikkje kunne stogga. Ho kryssa sundet den dagen. Stod på andre sida, naken og dirrande, med heile bygda i ryggen. Ho visste det då, utan å kunne setje ord på det.» (s. 61 i Remember the Ladies!).

I 1929 reiser Sigurda Aamot over Atlanteren saman med den vesle sonen sin, Robert. Mannen hennar får ikkje arbeid og forsvinn ut av livet hennar. Robert byrjar på skule. Sigurda får eit brev i postkassa:

«The paper was thin, the lines typewritten, but the words pierced through like nails: «We recommend that you speak English at home. It will help your child succeed.» Ho las det fleire gonger, først sakte, så raskare, som om tempoet kunne endra innhaldet […]. Dagane gjekk. Ho prata mindre og mindre norsk med han […]. Ein søndag sat dei på ein benk i parken. Han song ein barnesong på engelsk. Ho kjende han att frå barndomen […]. Ho freista å nynna med, men han stogga og sa: «That’s not how it goes.» Det var då ho visste det. Ho hadde mista noko.» (s. 64).

She meets Olav Aamot — who speaks a West Norwegian dialect. They sit on a bench in the park. She tells him that she can sew. She begins sewing and earns money making traditional Norwegian costumes. They marry, have two children, and buy a house. And then, one day in 1955, she travels back to Os to see her childhood home, at Olav’s encouragement. Back in America, she begins to unfold creatively and artistically: she embroiders childhood motifs, writes poetry, teaches folk dance, and is active in Daughters of Norway.

Many years later, she sits in her living room and is interviewed about her life as a Norwegian in America by a young American woman:

«—You want to know what it was like? she asked softly. The woman nodded. […]

—I have been a housekeeper. A mother. A waitress. An artist. A caretaker […]

—Yes, I have been many things. Everything except a passenger. She turned, smiled faintly, with both laughter and sorrow in her voice.

—I always had to row.» (p. 60) She serves coffee and says softly: «—We didn’t get much. […]. But we planted.» The young woman lifted her gaze and met her eyes. In them lay a certainty. A quiet faith.

«—You just have to remember to water the tree», Sigurda said. 

—Because what begins to grow does not grow by itself.» (p. 67)

^{In the days leading up to Christmas, we meet one of the book’s ten Norwegian women each day. They represent a large and diverse group of female voices that are only now, at the 200th anniversary of Norwegian emigration to America, beginning to be heard.}

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