Lilting names

When I introduce myself to the Opplanders I meet, they  recognize me as Norwegian...except they don't because I don't speak a word of it.  So, they look at me quizzically, and I explain that my MorMor was born in Valdres and my FarMor's family came from Nordfjord.  And then I realize that I have no idea where my FarFar's family lived.  But no one questions that.  They  all nod and say, so, you are visiting family?  Well, no, I'm not.  And then I try to explain the concept of being a nomad and they nod again, but I can tell that they are totally puzzled; so are many of my acquaintance, of course. 
In corresponding with the genealogists among the Klemmetsrud descendants, I discovered that "rud" means clearing or field, so Klemetsrud (my MorMor's maiden name) is Klemet's (or Klement's) clearing. Most Norwegians used a patronymic, with a place name attached, and the first name was usually the grandparent's name, so you have a series of johan oleson, ole johansson names. Thus, place names and dates are vital for genealogists. I love how connected we used to be to our land and our ancestors.
Or in some cases, the connection was to attributes. When I was in Dromara, my friend E wrote: "I am expecting you to assist my Irish pronunciation after this. I am a quarter and I cannot even figure out how to pronounce the family name. It is Cuchogaidh--'hound of war" most appropriate for me really."  Yes, most appropriate, and quite lovely.  My understanding, from various indices in various fictional works, is that the Gaelic Ch is a glottal "h" and the dh a voiced "th," thus cu HO guhth. But don't quote me.  
I listen to the Norwegian around me, and it has no meaning, even though I can figure out some of the written Norwegian.  The lilt is a pronounced sing-song.  The vowels end in a broad r sound, the Ts are very crisply pronounced, the Ss quite sibilant.  I recognize my Minnesota family speaking rhythms, even though they were talking in English. But that is all I recognize.  
So many people speak excellent English, and they pamper me.  The conductor of the orchestra started giving directions in English, and I'm positive it was for my benefit.  So kind of them, but it means I have no incentive to learn the language.  During the coffee break I asked how to say "excuse me" and they said something that sounded German:  "entschuldigen Sie" only with softer syllables.  Then they laughed and said, "or you can say 'Sorry'!"  
So, sorry, I think I'll remain an arrogant American and expect everyone to speak English.