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?
Bah, I prefer your date titles! It helps ME keep track!
ReplyDeleteCertainly not a bad city to walk around!
Yeah, I hate the security. The ones at the airport aren't even polite. I think they're power-hungry and so yell at you a lot to make themselves feel better.
Uuuummm... they're IN Copenhagen. They should probably--I don't know--know a LITTLE about Danish visas, shouldn't they??
Every time I think about trepanning, I get the shivers and, not for the first time, I am SO glad to be born around modern medicine.