Day 51 - February 20

Some random photos:

A pastry that I always thought looked like a homemade Pop Tart and in fact, was basically a homemade Pop Tart.


A walk in the snow.








Dori, Angela, and I went to a flea market at Bella Center Saturday afternoon. Bella Center is a convention center five minutes from our kollegium. Some of the Climate 15 conference was held there.



This flea market is apparently the largest in Scandinavia. None of us really knew what to expect, but we thought it would be an experience. You had to pay 30kr (about $6) to get in, which is a little ironic – you’re paying to buy things – but it was definitely worth it just for the experience. I’m not sure I’ve ever really been to a flea market, and certainly never one to this scale. It was enormous. The building looked like a gigantic warehouse with table after table. However, we all thought for being a flea market, a lot seemed rather pricey. We found a poster of the kings and queens of Denmark that both Dori and I really want, but they were asking 350kr for it, which is ludicrous. We never figured out why it cost that much. Not everything was expensive, though, and we did find some bargains. There was a section of used books that were all in English, and they were cheap even by American standards, let alone Danish standards – I got two books for $3, which I would say is a clear success. While searching for birthday presents, I also became very good at saying “Hvad koster?” which is “What does this cost?” (well, really, that would be “Hvad koster det?” but the Danes are often as lazy in speech and grammar as Americans and shorten or combine many things). And I was able to practice my numbers with the responses.

That night was Russian dinner. It was a whole production put on by Daria and the large group of Russians she somehow managed to find. (In January she was always very sad about how she couldn’t find any Russians and had no one to speak Russian with…now she has managed to find 8 or 9 of them). Again, most of us didn’t know what to expect, but it was very good, except for the vodka shot, which, if anything tastes like battery acid, it was that. The Russians taught us that a typical dinner would have two toasts – one for the meeting, and one for the beautiful ladies – throughout, and you take the shot and then have a pickle slice.



Appetizer and salad. I didn't LOVE the salad, but I thought "Hmm, I could get used to this", and I asked Daria what was in it. Crab and mayonnaise. Two things that I dislike. Who'da thunk?




How they can do this normally I have no idea. They must have strong stomachs in Russia.


Meat rolled in cabbage.


The guys standing up to toast to the girls.


Entertainment! Singing Russian songs.


Russian pancakes, eaten with condensed milk - delicious!

Days 45 and 46 - February 14 and 15

Valentine’s Day also coincided with Fastalavn Sunday. Fastalavn is pretty much the Danish version of Carnivale, mostly celebrated by kids with dress-up and sweets. I went to a Fastalavn party set-up by an organization consisting of some Danish and some international students for international activities. We were required to dress up, so I thought – “What can I do that requires not buying a costume and using what I already have?” Why, Pippi Longstocking, of course!



At the party, which felt more like an arts-and-crafts session, we had traditional Fastalavn buns, very strange Danish soda, and made masks and “fertility branches”. None of us actually can remember what they’re actually called, but the tradition is that children make these the week before, then on Fastalavn Sunday, wake their parents up with them and get candy or money and buns. In “return” the branches are supposed to bestow good health and fertility on the family. It stretches back to medieval times, as does the “killing the cat”. In the old days, they actually had a black cat in a barrel, would hit the barrel until it broke, and then kill the cat in order to bring a good year (since cats were bad luck). Now, the barrel just acts like a much tougher piñata and is only decorated with cat cut-outs or stuffed cats. Hitting the barrel is absolutely terrifying. You hit it with a bat, and it makes the loudest crack. Plus, when the barrel is partially broken, there’s a possibility of splinters flying places. And people worry that piñatas are dangerous!




Creating our branches


In all our Fastalavn splendor



Monday brought the first language class of the semester. It’s a bigger class than in January – 18 people – and it runs from 5-8, so there are some negatives about it. By the last hour, all of us are pretty much dead. This class was mostly review, and it was a little scary, because the teacher is much stricter than grandmotherly Inger. However, she seems nice enough, and while most of the class was complaining afterward, complaining doesn’t make anything better, so I’ll just try to enjoy the class and learn as much as possible.

After class, a group of us from the January class went to see Valentine’s Day, the movie. It was cute – Love, Actually for the United States. Without the Christmas atmosphere and the British accents, perhaps it wasn’t quite as much a classic, but it was very cute. And with Julia Roberts, it’s hard to go wrong.

Not a lot more has happened in the past week. Class, and a little bit of relaxing. It snowed a little on Tuesday and a lot yesterday. I had my first Viking class on Thursday, as well. It's a history course designed for students who aren't primarily history majors, and I haven't taken one of those in a very long time, so it was kind of interesting. "Why are the Dark Ages called the Dark Ages? Because it was overcast and rainy the entire time!" The professor is quite a character, very friendly, and I think the class will be good - he managed to mention Captain Jack Sparrow in the first lesson, which is a good omen for the rest of the semester.

I'm getting very excited for my trip to Paris next week. I leave Thursday and come back the next Wednesday. I still can't believe I'm going to Paris...one of those places that has been in my head since I was little as a place where "When I'm rich, I'm going to world travel and go to Paris." Well, I might not be rich, but I am going to Paris! So unless anything exciting happens before Thursday, the next time you hear from me might be about mes aventures français.

Day 41 - February 10

It’s been over a week since I updated. Oops! We got another half inch of snow yesterday, but today some of the ice on the canal has melted, so I don’t mind as that means it’s actually been warmer here.



Back to the Wednesday before last.

I talked to Danish Immigration Services (who also deal with residence permits) – no extension of a visa for me. It took me about a week longer to get a final, definite answer that there was no way for me to stay in Denmark and/or return to fly out of Copenhagen after my field school in August. However, though my visa expires July 15, I am allowed in the UK, because it is not part of the Schengen Agreement which most of Europe is in, so there I will stay until August 15, when I return to the states (if Alaska can be considered “the states” ;-) ). No real complaints here, except that they could have been more straightforward in giving the answer. However, there are plenty of areas in the UK I have not explored, and plenty others that I would return to, so I would say two weeks of travel and two weeks of digging in the dirt is not too bad of an option.

I took a trip out to the botanical gardens to see what they looked like in the snow. Still very pretty. There was also a party of little schoolkids walking in the garden. Now, I think small children are universally cute, however, small children in cold climates win the contest for cuteness. It’s the bundling up, and Denmark takes the cake. The children here all wear full-body snowsuits, and trumping two-by-two, hand-in-hand across the garden was a cuter sight than anything in the snow-covered garden.







Getting home, I was excited to find a slip in my mailbox saying I had a package. It was, to my surprise, located at the farther post office, but I dutifully took the metro and then walked to the post office, showing two forms of ID (one with my address, one with my photo), only to learn that it had been a mistake and my package was supposed to be stored in the closer post office. They were, at that moment, probably going to my kollegium to attempt to deliver it again, and then it would sit at the closer office. So I get back, no slip in my box – and I wait for it to come…but it never does. Turns out if a person is not home, they mail the pick-up slip to them…so my excitement at receiving my first care-package diminished and was disappointed by learning that it’s not just the U.S. Postal Service that has problems.

To cheer me up, however, that night we had a Danish Christmas dinner, cooked by the lovely Bo, our resident-Dane. He had never actually cooked one before, but it turned out wonderfully. I did not perform my usual taking of photos, but we had pork roast, potatoes, carmelized potoatoes (I need to learn to make these), and cooked red cabbage. For dessert, we had risengrød, which is rice cooked until very soft (about the consistency of grits) with butter, and cinnamon sugar on top. So good.

Days 39 and 40 - February 8 and 9

A note on titles. I realize my titles are very boring, but I like to see the passage of time. It’s crazy to look and realize, “Wow, I’ve been here 39 days.” So I think real titles will be few and far between :)

Signed up for the Danish language course during the semester on Monday morning and then I went to search for the American embassy. Now, I had felt very nauseous in the middle of the night, and that had gone away, but when I had woken I was feeling very light-headed, so I thought, “I’ll sign up for the class, go home, take a nap, and then go find the embassy,” but once I was out in the fresh air and in the city, I didn’t really feel like going all the way back to my room and I wasn’t feeling absolutely terrible, even if I hadn’t improved any. However, because I had already planned on coming back, I had left the address of the embassy in my room, and I thought “I know what it started with, let’s just look to see if I can find it on the map.” I found something, and I was convinced I was right, but memory can be a fickle thing. The street did indeed have “hammer” in it, and was about the right distance from Nørreport, but in the opposite direction. I did have a nice walk around Copenhagen, though.















I decided to try again Tuesday morning to find the embassy, this time with address in hand. It was a farther walk than I had planned but nothing extreme. The object of my quest was to see about extending my visa. I knew I would have to go to Danish authorities eventually, but I wanted someone who could explain to me in native English, whether or not I could and how.

Getting to the embassy reminded me what I don’t like about America – the crazy security. I had to go through airport-like checkpoint, except possibly more intense. They only let one person enter the room at a time, and then I had to take out all electronics, turn them off, and turn them in. They had to put my bag through the scanner, then I had to walk through, though I had to go back through without my boots on. Then they gave me a receipt to pick up my electronics, and I left the security room into the real courtyard before entering the actual embassy. On the bright side, the security people were really friendly. The guy even asked me if I knew where I was going, which I didn’t. Thank you, sir!

The woman in charge of American Citizen Services was not as nice. Go figure. She just looked at me crazily and told me, “You’ll have to go to the Danes for that” and claimed that they knew absolutely nothing about Danish visas without even asking what I specifically had a question about. I’m sorry I wanted a friendly kinsperson to give me even a little bit of help. I also had to ask, “Where do I go to talk to them?”, instead of her automatically getting me the information. So much for helping citizens.

Also, the waiting room felt like a refugee camp or homeless shelter. A cramped room with tons of people, none speaking English, waiting, just waiting. The Danish embassy in New York had easy security – just go show my passport to some guy and he told me where to go – and the waiting room felt like a dentist’s office. The American embassy in Denmark? I felt little, unwanted, and intimidated. America at its worst. I don’t know what I was expecting, but something a little more welcoming.

To make myself feel better, I did two things I’d been meaning to do. 1. Eat a Danish hot dog – the stands are everywhere.



2. Go to Coldstone and check it out, make sure it’s up to par for when Andrea comes to visit (it’s ice cream and ice cream is good no matter what, it’s better ice cream than some, but it is not as good as American Coldstone).

Along the way, I also found a place selling scarves and I perhaps spent more than I should, but I needed a better scarf since I lost my last one. And I conducted all three transactions – hot dogs, scarves, ice cream – in Danish.

I then went to the National Museum and checked out the prehistory section. I have accepted that it is fact that every prehistoric museum will play creepy music in the exhibits, as if the people of the past were always in danger and/or dangerous and mystical. I do not understand it.


The craziest thing! They used to actually cut open the skull to "cure" certain conditions, and people SURVIVED!


Vikings might not have worn horned helmets, but their ancestors did!


Seriously sweet horns.


Bog body #2!


Statue of Liberty?

Days 37 and 38 - February 6 and 7

I apologize for the massive updates that will be happening. I fell behind, as you can see. This means I am bombarding this blog with updates. I think I'll group them into days, but then instead of many short posts it will be fewer long posts. I do not know which is better.

So! American dinner! I had several helpers, including a Canadian and an Austrian, and not a single American. Ironic, eh?




First-timers rolling cookie-dough balls. They started getting bigger...and bigger...and bigger.

Things turned out very well. The courses:
Appetizers – PB&J Sandwiches and Chicken Noodle Soup



I did not try the sandwiches (to be honest, I’m getting rather tired of them, especially with terrible Danish peanut butter), nor did I make them, so I’m not sure how they tasted. It was my new flatmate Dori’s idea to make them, as we were worried about the amount of food since people kept asking if they could bring new friends or roommates or whatnot.




The soup, however, was a major success. I’d never made it before, but it was so good. Such a simple recipe, but seriously delicious. That one’s going in my cookbook!

Main Course – Macaroni and Cheese and Meatloaf



Not sure how the macaroni went over, but I feel like you have to either really love cheese, or be American to really appreciate it. I wasn’t really around for the eating of it, though, because I kept having to run back to the kitchen to check on the cookies. Truthfully, I prefer Kraft, but I’m a strange one, and Conrad told me he liked my version better.

Nothing terribly interesting to say about the meatloaf (and I am apparently lacking in a photograph). It turned out alright. For some reason, I can never get it to taste like Mom’s, but that’s how it always is, isn’t it? Marcin kept telling me how much he liked it, which made me laugh – makes sense that a Polish guy would like it!

Dessert – Chocolate Chip Cookies


(Also a horrible photo)

I’m not sure if it was the butter or what, but the cookies completely flattened out. This has happened to me in Boston as well, though, so I’m not sure. We also didn’t grease the aluminum foil (silly me, trusting someone who’s never baked cookies before who told me “they’ll be fine!”), so they were completely stuck on and people ended up having to more like eat them with a fork. But hey, they tasted good! Also, seeing how they were stuck and flat, I left one pan unbaked so everyone could be a REAL American and just eat the dough. A few people looked at me like I was crazy, but they don’t know what they were missing. The Americans (and Canadians) just said “They don’t understand” and the non-North Americans who tried it did tell me it was amazing. That’s because you can’t go wrong with cookie dough.

Claudia and I decided to head over to the Polish guy’s after dinner to watch a movie rather than go dancing because cooking made me rather exhausted, not to mention that American food does not tend to be the type of food that propels you with energy. So we headed over, but instead of watching one movie, we ended up watching three movies.

The first was a Serbian movie called Black Cat, White Cat. The first half was…interesting. We weren’t sure what was going on or why we were watching it. I felt bad for poor Andrzej who had really recommended it for us. Marcin A. also had seen it and really liked it. It’s always hard when you really like something and the people you show it to don’t like it. Claudia stopped watching, but Marcin F. and I kept watching, and I don’t regret watching it. The second half was better, and though I could not say it was one of my favorite movies, it was entertaining. Or at least I felt a little more cultured for having watching a non-English movie.

We then started talking about Slavic culture, why Andrzej and Marcin had wanted us to see it, and Polish films. They asked if we would want to see a Polish film, and I said definitely, but I did not realize they had meant at that very moment. So though it was 2 AM, we watched a movie called Pregi (“The Welts” in English, but I think it sounds cooler in Polish). It was a pretty intense movie, but it was really, really well-done. I would certainly recommend it. It’s about a boy who is abused by his father in childhood and how that affects him throughout his life. Very, very good.

Then, as it was now 4 AM, and the buses start up again at 7, Claudia and I decided it would be better to just stay for another three hours rather than walking to the nearest S-train stop, especially since we did not know when the S-trains stopped and/or started running. So, after we had an impromptu breakfast, we wanted to watch something “light and fluffy”. We ended up watching My Best Friend’s Girl. Not really my kind of romantic comedy, but on the plus side, it took place in Boston, which made me incredibly happy and probably annoying to my dear friends who tolerated me getting excited whenever they showed cityscapes (or when they showed Old South and I gasped and Claudia said “Do you know that place?” “I WORK there!” which then made me miss my adorable preschoolers).



At one point, I was really worried that I may have broken some Polish custom by refusing a shot. They’re all so polite that I felt really bad and I really, really hope that there’s no custom in which it’s incredibly rude to say no. Marcin A. had poured us all shots at the beginning of the movie, and I took the first one because he had poured it before I could say no, but then I tried to tell him as he was pouring a second round a while later but I probably did not speak very loud, so I had to refuse once it was already poured. If it was just not liking the taste of alcohol, I would have taken it just to be polite, but I really don’t know how much alcohol I can take with my medicine. So, I hope I did not look like a terribly rude American. Or even just a terribly rude friend.

In the end, we got home at 8 AM. I think I have now beaten my record of staying up during the night – possibly I have gone to bed later after a Relay for Life, but that’s cutting it close and that was for a reason. I was absolutely exhausted on Sunday and spent the entire day watching British talk/comedy/game shows, finally watching QI, which people kept telling me to watch, and getting immediately hooked. What could be better than Stephen Fry, British accents, random and interesting facts, and comedy?

Thankfully, we did not end up having a Super Bowl party. Turns out all of us had calculated wrong, and kick-off was at 12:30 AM. Not going to happen.

Day 36 - February 5

In the morning I made chocolate chip cookie dough for Saturday’s dinner. Denmark, being health conscious and food regulatory and crazy in general, do not seem to have shortening, so I had to substitute butter, which I’ve never done before. According to the website, it makes the cookies softer but nothing else. We’ll see when I actually cook it. I’m not too worried, but I was a little upset that my familiar chocolate chip cookies tasted like butter. Seriously, sweetened butter with chocolate chips. Ditka tried the dough and absolutely LOVED it, so they’re not bad, but when you’ve made cookies a billion times and then you have to make them a little differently…just another part of living abroad – even familiar things aren’t quite familiar.

There was a faculty (here meaning department, not as in faculty and staff) introduction in the afternoon. We got a tour of the history section of the building, including the library and the bar, but I do not think I will be able to find any of it ever again. We took weird twists and turns and I had no idea where I ended up. However, at the end of it all there was a reception and we got free food and drink (sodas in glass bottles! Even the not-as-good-tasting Danish Coke tastes better in glass bottles.), and I met a few new people (two Germans who informed me that Super Bowl, unawares to me, was this Sunday, and we planned to have a party – so far with three Germans, a Canadian, a Dane, and one American. Ha! Too bad I only watch it for the commercials and it won’t be the same commercials, but it will still be fun – international Super Bowl!).

Friday evening was interesting. I almost felt like a normal teenager who parties, drinks, and stays up wicked late – except that I did not drink and I did not stay up nearly as late as everyone else and I guess I’m not technically a teenager, but hey, at least now I can say I’ve done the teenage thing.

There was a welcome party in the kollegium and we had a pre-party in our apartment. Like parties are bound to do, people we invited invited their own people so somehow our tiny little apartment got filled with people. Nothing wild, but still not really expected. At least Bo had other guys to keep him company – originally we thought he would be the only one. I did drink one thing, because I’d always wanted to try one – a Jell-O shot. However, there is no Jell-O here, only stuff that gels things (to make jelly), so it was flavored with syrup, and it did not gel the same way as Jell-O (but it did remind me of the consistency of jelly), but I guess it was okay. It probably would have been better if it was actually Jell-O.

The kollegium party was alright, but there was not enough space. They had two tables for sitting, which was a bad idea. They took up way too much room, and while in the beginning it was crowded but doable, by midnight it was hard to even move. I guess it wasn’t too bad, though…it was fun before it got crowded.


And tonight I am cooking American Dinner. Instead of just our class, though, somehow there are around 25 people coming. This is kind of ridiculous, and I keep getting MORE requests to invite people. Wish me luck that there's enough food and that it all turns out alright!

Day 35 - February 4

It was my first day of class, though I was almost late because before I had gone shopping for my American Dinner and the line in the supermarket was surprisingly long for being Thursday lunchtime. However, I made it on time (well, not quite, but the room didn’t even open until 10 minutes after the designated time). The lecture was for my Danish Culture Course, this particular lecture on the origins of Denmark, which I learned meant 13,000 years of Danish history in the course of 2 hours. It was really interesting and I wish they offered just a plain “Danish history” course or even a Danish archaeology course – usually my focus in archaeology extends only to periods of writing and even more specifically, after the introduction of Christianity, but here I find their prehistory fascinating. They have a lot of preservation because of the bogs and a lot of interesting customs (maybe a reason I like it more, too, is that it is not ever Roman-based archaeology).

The second half was a little scattered. The professor went on several tangents, but I really liked him. The Danish Culture Course works a lot like the Core Curriculum back at BU, where each lecture is given by someone else, though here I think there’s more recurring lecturers, including this man who will also be lecturing at my Viking lecture. He had a lot of character, and Theresa described him as someone she thought should be on the history channel. Also, the Danish accent, especially the very refined academic accent, sounds almost like deeper English accents. It makes sense due to the proximity and if they were taught English it would be the original English, not American English, but it’s curious, because every once in a while, if you hear someone talking but not for very long, you might think he or she is English before realizing he/she is, in fact, Danish.

Day 34 - February 3

Angela and I found a café right in the middle of Nørreport that is slightly more expensive than the cheapest cafes but very cozy. Even though it’s at the heart of the city, it wasn’t very full, and the hot chocolate was amazing.

Angela and I also ordered our drinks in Danish. I’m pretty sure the lady thought we were crazy, but we got our hot chocolates!

In the late afternoon, we took a three-hour bus tour put on by the International Office. It was very cold, but interesting. After we got to the queen’s palaces and after being told “you can now look around” and we all headed straight for the bus instead, we remained in the bus for the last hour, hour and a half, which made us sleepy but definitely better than freezing. Most of the sites Angela and I had seen before, because the tour was more designed for the people who hadn’t taken the introductory Danish course and had just arrived a few days before; however, it was good to learn more details about the places we’d been, and it’s so pretty anyway that it doesn’t matter seeing them again and again. Plus, I learned that the queen’s birthday is on April 16, and she comes outside and waves to the crowds below. I think it’s fairly safe to say what I’ll be doing April 16.

Vor Frue Kirke

Poor girl, she looked so cold! I guess she'll warm up plenty in China.

I’ve been thoroughly enjoying the snow but that day, seeing how Copenhagen does not really know how to handle such large amounts of snow for extended periods and leaves it to turn into slush on the sidewalks and the Metro was horribly crowded because no one could ride their bikes – I realized I was ready for it to be less cold. I’ve finally reached my breaking point with winter, but, alas, I’ve heard it’s supposed to be like this through March. Though, perhaps, the snow will melt.

Aalborg

An interesting note. The Danish letter å replaces what used to be spelled simply ‘aa’. The government, when it made the å, made everything and every place change to that spelling. However, Aalborg petitioned and protested, and eventually got the original spelling of their town name back.

Aalborg and its snow and trees reminded me of home. No mountains, though.



Our hostel was a little out of the way, but it wasn’t too bad. It’s a camping area in the summer, and it has cabins. It was less than a ten minute walk from the bus stop, though.

Sunday

We took the bus to Lindholm Høje, a Viking museum, or really more of a museum about the archaeology of this particular Viking site. It was pretty neat, though the original reason why it sounded neat ended up being inaccessible due to the snow (a special Viking cemetery). The area around was absolutely gorgeous covered in snow, and I’m sure it’s just as pretty in the summer, as well.












Next thing to do when I get my time machine - trade with the Vikings for their jewelry.



The rest of the afternoon we spent walking around.








This may have been my favorite town.

I would have liked to see more of the town, but Elyse and Theresa got tired and cold, so we hopped on the bus back to the hostel, got our bags, and took the train back, which itself was an adventure. It felt like we were playing musical chairs since we had not reserved seats. We found seats that weren’t reserved, but turns out even if the seat itself says “can be reserved”, people can reserve it five minutes before at the stop, so what wasn’t reserved in Aalborg, two hours later was reserved, and we’d get kicked out of our seats.

I did make it back, eventually, with a detour. The train that goes to the airport (which is what we took from Aalborg) usually stops at my stop, but it this time decided to pass it by, so I ended up at the airport, which is actually one zone outside of my pass (though it’s really not far away – it’s only in another zone so they can charge more for transportation). I was really scared about being checked for a ticket (it’s an honor system but with semi-frequent ticket checks), but I wasn’t going to pay for only one stop out of my zone when it was an accident in the first place, so I ended up taking the metro, which is checked less often, rather than the train back. However, the problem with the metro is that the airport is on the other metro line, so I had to go back into the city and transfer to my metro line, and it took a while to get home. When I did get back, I discovered Copenhagen had been covered in quite a layer of snow. Welcome, February :) It’s okay. Boston had a late start to winter, so I’m still loving the snow!