Day 12 - January 12

So things have somehow slowed down but been busier at the same time, hence the not updating. Not that I’m planning on updating every single day after things truly slow down…just the days in which something interesting occurs.

One liter is not a lot, I have discovered. I’ve already bought milk three times. Luckily, milk is cheap, less than $1/L. But even still, I only buy 1L of milk at a time, and 1L of orange juice, and they’re gone like that. Kind of like my money around here.

In class, we are apparently a very quick group, and so Inger (pronounced “Ing-uh”) leaves time at the end for us to ask her pretty much whatever we like. Usually it centers around grocery shopping, as things are so different here. First, you have to find everything in a new language. Second, you have to find if they even have the product you’re searching for. We ran into a bit of a problem with baking soda. Inger did not understand when I tried to describe the difference between baking powder and baking soda, which I find unusual as she has mentioned several times baking for her family. With the help of friends and a wonderfully fantastic website that has the UK English, American English, and Danish names for common baking items, I discovered that Denmark does indeed have baking soda.

Things they don’t have:

Peanut butter – there is one form of organic peanut butter, but it’s not so good…I am no expert on organic peanut butter, but I heard another American complaining to a friend, and she said she eats organic at home but it is far better than the sole Danish option

Cans of soup – believe it or not, what I thought was universal is not. The only options for soup are a few of these two-serving bags of soup. Yes, bags. Not bags like plastic bags, but closer to chips bags, but even thicker. And the flavors? Some sort of Asian flavor, tomato, and vegetable. Not a single can of chicken noodle soup to be found, or even chicken broth.

Chocolate chips – As our class is doing a series of national dinners, I plan on making chocolate chip cookies as part of the American dinner (apple pie would involve far too much work – making two pies completely from scratch, as they also do not have pre-made pie crust is more effort than I want to make if I’m to cook an entire dinner for 15 people). It is still possible, now that I have found baking soda, but I will have to do it the old-fashioned way and chop up a chocolate bar.

Zip-loc bags – I don’t just mean the brand name, I mean any kind of bag that has a sealing mechanism. All they have is regular plastic bags for sandwiches, reminiscent of Subway sandwich bags. I guess I’ll be investing in twist ties (let’s hope they have those).

Things they do have:

Tacos – surprisingly, it seems that Mexican food is if not popular, at least getting there. They have both tortillas and hard shells, they have the taco meat mix as well as a “burrito mix” (which I am curious as to how it’s different than the taco mix) and a fajita spice mix.

Dark Chocolate – we learned in class how to say dark chocolate (probably the most helpful thing to learn) – mørk chokolade – and I wish I could pronounce that for you, because it is perhaps the most unattractive way to say chocolate…it’s not all nice and “choc-o-lade”y but “sho-ko-laaal”, which does not do it justice – and so, I decided after class to get myself some mørk chokolade. I saw a fairly cheap bar, and I saw one with Odense written on it, so I figured, even though it was $4, I would see what local chocolate was. Needless to say, it was the best spent $4 of my life. This Odense chocolate has replaced Cadbury dark chocolate (which, though made by a British company can only be found in America, not in the UK) as my all-time favorite.

Yogurt in cartons – their yogurt is poured out of a carton, as in a milk carton. It’s not as thick as yogurt at home, but is quite good. However, the verdict is still out on whether or not I like the pouring of yogurt.

Bread – and lots of it.

Pastries – enough said.

So, I’ll deal with my sub-par peanut butter and jelly sandwiches by overcompensating with delicious bread, Nutella, and pastries.

Short anecdote of the day: I tagged along with a friend at a used bike shop. The man behind the desk was from Iraq, and when we left I said "Shukran" (thank you). But that was, sadly, all that I could remember of two years of Arabic. It made him happy, though, so that's good :)

Day 9 - January 9

We decided to go to Christiania in the afternoon. Tory described as looking like a festival. I felt like I’d stepped into a time warp and landed in the U.S. in the 60s. It was an…experience. No photos are allowed inside, but I think I might go back to the outside and take a photo of the outer limit. So what is Christiana if you’re unfamiliar with it? It used to be a military barracks, which became the locale for squatters in the 1970s. Eventually it was “taken over” and declared a free and open commune. I don’t know too many details, but it now has a unique status within Copenhagen…it’s not exactly part of the city, though it’s at the heart of the city. At one exit of Christiana, they have written “You are now entering the EU”. It has its own set of rules and charter, in which it says something about how it is a place meant to be free for all to express themselves fully to the benefit of the community (and so they forbid weapons and hard drugs). The main reason they allow no photographs is because of Pusher Street, a street where marijuana is literally being sold in the open at little street booths. Copenhagen used to allow this, but now they’re in a struggle with the government over it and so, they want no photographic evidence that can be used against them.

It is a very...interesting place. There are fires in trashcans, very colorful buildings decorated with artistic spray paint. An extremely colorful area. We went into a café, which we were recommended by a Dane. Many of the group enjoyed it, but it’s one of the few places you can smoke inside (only cigarettes, they had a sign that marijuana must be smoked outside or they could be shut down) and the haze was overpowering. You could visually see it, and even if the hot chocolate was cheap, it was not the same quality or the same size as the last café we went to, and I don’t think I’ll be coming back. The fresh air after was such a relief.

Three Polish guys in my class were cooking us dinner, so from Christiana we went to catch the S-train to their place. None of us had ever ridden the S-train, though having navigated the T, the London Underground, and the New York subway (which I still do not understand) it’s actually a very simple system. However, the one thing we did not see was where each train stopped at. We could have taken four or five trains to get to the stop we wanted, but we managed to pick the one that skipped our stop. Now we know better and understand how to tell on the map if a train stops or not…but we ended up who knows where and had to find a train back. Two or three lines should have taken us back, but for some reason, only one was running and it was late. We waited for over 20 minutes in the cold for the train, but we did manage to get where we needed to go, and even found a bus that took us right up to the house (well, monastery – they are renting rooms in an old monastery, and it is a very nice place! The elevator can fit three people maximum and can only go up if a key is inserted and turned. To me, this was highly entertaining, even if to others the elevator seemed a bit sketch). I don’t think my exchange experience would have been complete without getting off at the wrong stop at least once, so check that off my list! And despite that, the train itself is very nice!

Before realizing we had passed our stop.

Dinner was absolutely delicious. I’m tempted to move to Poland just for the food. We thought as a class, after the boys invited us to this dinner, that we should do a weekly dinner, each of the nationalities making some traditional foods, but I don’t think anyone will be able to compare to the Polish dinner.

Our lovely Polish cooks - Marcin, Andrzej, and Marcin.

They had brought a lot of things from home, and they made such a variety. There were these meat pancakes, bigos – a type of meat stew is I guess how to describe it with so many different types of meat, perogis (dumplings),
this chicken which Claudia said was basically wienerschnitzel, salad,
potatos, and tea the “Polish way” (it was earl gray with dark honey, lemon, and a bit of vodka). I cannot tell you how wonderful the food was, after our arduous journey to the place in the cold and a week of whatever-I-can-scrape-together dinners (I have yet to make sense of the grocery store and can only find the ingredients to pasta, sandwiches, and perhaps tacos oddly enough).

Excited for the food.

Also that evening: I tried a sip of Carlsberg, because it is apparently the best beer in the world and people who don’t like beer claim to like it. To me, it was still beer, though I can admit that it was, if not good, at least less disgusting than what I’d had in Edinburgh. Still, you won’t be seeing me abandoning my Coke at parties for a Carlsberg anytime soon.

Day 8 - January 8

An interesting thing about this exchange, with the large international population, is that because everyone speaks English, you hear all sorts of accents. The most interesting so far was a girl whose dad was Danish but mom was German and she lived in Germany. She studied in Ireland. Thus, her accent was the strangest mix of German and Irish. The Irish was the most distinctive, and before I knew where she was from, I was quite confused, because I could hear the hints of Ireland, but I could tell that she was not Irish and her accent was not actually Irish. It is also interesting to hear little differences in English from those who learned it as a second (or third) language. Such as Angela, my Colombian friend, who says “Sure, sure, okay!” as you talk, where most Americans would say “yeah” and “uh-huh”. And sometimes stereotypes are true – I met a French girl who was so obviously French with her accent and fashion, as soon as she said “zat”. You can even hear the accents in Danish. Because I’ve only ever learned a language with other Americans, I’ve never thought about it much. Of course we have our accents when we’re speaking Spanish or French or whatever, but in the Danish course, you can still hear everyone’s accent when they’re speaking Danish. It makes sense, but it’s one of those things that I never would have thought of.

Random discovery – Frosted Flakes (or Frosties as they are in Europe) taste better here. They’re...flakier, for lack of a better way to describe them.

We learned how to order, ask the price, etc. today. One of the vocab words was “muffin”. Daria, a Russian, asked what a muffin was, which led to a short discussion in which I felt just a tad bit more worldwise than I usually do. Why? Because one of the Canadians, in describing muffins, said “it’s a breakfast food.” Claudia, the Austrian, made a face, and I was able to say confidently, “Nope, it’s only us who eat it for breakfast.” I’d had a very similar conversation in England last summer, in which my dear English friends were flabbergasted by the fact that we could eat anything so sugary for breakfast (doughnuts were worse, but they already knew that was a breakfast food – although they were under the impression that we ate doughnuts and pancakes every single day). It happened when I was really craving a blueberry muffin and we went to the grocery store – I wanted one, and they weren’t sure exactly what I meant because they kept describing it as a dessert and cake-y and I wanted to look in the breakfast section. The only muffins in the breakfast section were English muffins (not called that in England, of course). And now, I really want a blueberry muffin.

A multi-cultural Danish class.

There’s a horrible chill in the air that gets under your skin. I feel warm, and then suddenly, I will be shivering. Granted, I am not dressed as an Alaskan, but neither am I dressed as an Arizonan. I am in my room, with two pairs of socks, under armor, jeans, a long-sleeved shirt, and a jacket, with the heat on level 4 of 5 (the heat comes from a small heater, so it would actually be warmer nearer to the heater) and still my feet tingle and the hair on my arms stick up.

Bundling up next to Hans Christian Andersen

At least I am inside. The wind is the worst part, which I’ve experienced in both Boston and Seward. I’m no stranger to cold weather, but when looking at averages online for temperature, I was not prepared for a much-colder-than-average Copenhagen.

It's been so cold here lately that even the pigeons are huddling together for warmth. (I have never seen them stay still for so long. Even walking so close they didn't move).

A group activity planned for today was ice skating. By the time we got to the rink, our feet were frozen. We looked at each other, rubbing our hands together, and shook our heads. Nope, not today. Instead, we found a nice corner café, which was not only cozy but decently priced. It also served absolutely delicious hot chocolate. I shall certainly be returning.

Most delicious varm chokolade I've tried.

Rooms and Architecture

Welcome home! I still haven't finished unpacking completely.

The white walls are a little disconcerting. We can't make any holes, so decorating will be interesting. The white sheets are also a sad change from my bright ones back home.

For the next six months, here is where I'll be attempting to cook edible meals from food whose names I cannot read in Danish.

A walk around Copenhagen:

Back of the Parliament

The tower is decorated like some sort of animal. We were guessing, perhaps, alligator?

One of the rooms of the royal family.

Day 7 - January 7

Today at lunch in the kantine, we had over an hour discussion about school customs in different countries. It was fascinating. It was mostly on the difference between Russian and American school systems, but we had some input from the Canadians, as well. I learned that a huge problem in Russia is paying for better grades, because teachers need money and so ask their students for money for the grades. The levels of university have different names as well – specialists, candidate for doctoral, and doctoral levels. Also, I’ve had to do a lot of explaining about the concept of a minor. I had encountered this in England, but it’s a lot easier to explain when you speak the same first language and when there’s much more interaction between the English and the Americans. The concept of a minor, and often time general ed classes, is so foreign, and a very North American concept.

I met my mentor, Lena (the mentor here is not an academic mentor/tutor but a Danish student who can help international students figure things out, and a possible access to the Danes, as it’s a lot more difficult to meet them than it is other international students) after lunch. Sara accompanied me, and we went sightseeing around the city. We did a great deal of walking, and the air was frigid – the kind of cold where eventually you have a hard time forming words because your face muscles just won’t move – but I enjoyed it. We walked down Stroget, the main shopping street, past the parliament building to the Queen’s house. Pictures to come. We warmed up in a cute but expensive café. It was two stories, so we went to the top, and it was neat looking down below, though the $9 hot chocolate was not worth it. The kantine at uni has better hot chocolate for $1.

On our way back, I discovered a Coldstone. Now, I know the idea of an exchange is to experience the other country’s culture and to get away from your comfort zone just a little, but I call this discovery a huge success. A Coldstone in Copenhagen only makes Copenhagen that much more amazing. Now, I’ll have to figure out how to get back there, but I think I know the way – take the street that has the Subway down, turn left before the open square with the statue, and on that street there’s also a bakery that I’ll have to try out. Sara didn’t think it was actually called Coldstone, but I thought I saw the name. I first saw the sign with the red circle and ice cream cone, but I glanced in as we walked by and recognized the menu. Perhaps that’s a little sad that I can recognize the menu, but what can I say? I love my ice cream.

For the first time on the Metro, someone came by to check to make sure everyone had paid. I got to flip open my Metro card and feel special. The man in the seat next to me had to check every single pocket he had (and he had a lot…front and back jeans pockets, outer jacket pockets, inner jacket pockets, and a shirt pocket). I thought maybe he was stalling, but turns out he just has a lot of pockets, and he uses all of them.

It’s hard to believe it’s almost been a week. Last night, I had googled “things to do in Copenhagen/Denmark” because in all the stress of worrying about my visa (which is a story for another day), it had completely slipped my mind to buy a guidebook. I spent quite a bit of time looking at all the suggested sites, and I get more and more excited every time I think of visiting them all.

Day 6 - January 6

I will have to adjust how I do photos, since wide photos do not fit and shrinking them just makes them look weird. Hmm...

What I can say in Danish: Numbers from 1-199, the time, what my name is, where I’m from (and where my mother and father are from), various nationalities, what languages I can and can’t speak as well as languages I can read and hear, and the days of the week.

Observations: The Danish don’t have the same personal space issues Americans have. The metro seats are two seater benches, but the two seats aren’t separated like on Boston’s T. If there’s only one person sitting at the bench, you sit in the other spot. You don’t avoid it at all costs like an American would.
The stereotype of blonde Danes is a little bit of a misnomer. Maybe it’s different elsewhere in Denmark and not in a big, international city, but so far there’s been about the same mix of blondes as there would be in America. A lot of the blondes I’ve seen have been dyed, elsewise it’s a lot of light brunette. They’re also tanner than you would imagine with fair-haired people (like the English, or like me).
The metro is perhaps the nicest public transportation system I’ve seen. It has glass panels separating you from the track, so a drunk person wouldn’t be able to fall in (like happened this last semester in Boston). Like with London, there are electronic signs telling you when the next train is coming. It’s very sleek, and the stations are clean and very nice looking. I also really enjoy my line, which has a couple of outdoor stops, but the Danish are smarter than Bostonians. The tracks go above the roads, so the train doesn’t have to stop at stoplights. This makes it very smooth, and you’re able to see more of the city (though it’s only above ground on the outskirts).

I was once again in the city center after class. I attempted to find a bakery, but for some reason I had the hardest time. I did find one, but like so many things in Denmark, it didn’t have a line but a “take a number”. By the time I figured this out, I had also realized that because the pastries and breads were so spread out, it would not be easy to point and say “I want that”, but I had no idea how to pronounce what I wanted (which was a Danish-type pastry but, of course, they are not called Danishes actually and I was not about to ask for a Danish). Now, it’s not like with some languages where you can attempt to pronounce something and hope to at least land in a reasonable ballpark. The word, “spegl” for all I know could be “spel” “spay” “spayl” “spy” “spuh” and probably five other pronunciations. So I thought maybe I would find a bakery where I could just point. In my search, I managed to not get lost per se, but to take a street that did not lead me to exactly where I thought it would, so I found myself in the “American shopping street”, as I decide it was. There’s a main shopping street that has a lot of neat shops (there are a absurd number of shoe shops, and they’re all different, as well as a large number of dress shops), but the one I was in had more big stores and fast food restaurants – Subway, an Apple Store, and others which I cannot remember but large brands that I recognized. There were no bakeries on this street, but I did end up on an impromptu jaunt around the area. I never did find a bakery (though I passed by over ten hot dog stands and two places selling Belgian waffles). So I went into Field’s (the gigantic mall across from my kollegium and also across from the metro station) and went to the bakery there…they had no Danish (spegl?), but they had a huge cinnamon roll that I was planning on eating in two sittings but somehow in the updating of this has managed to be fully consumed, gaining me a stomachache.

Weather here: The city is beautiful in the snow. It seems that a lot of European countries have been having unusually cold winters, including Denmark, which does not normally get this much snow, nor in the negative temperatures (Celsius). The temperatures are very similar to Boston weather, so it hasn’t bothered me a bit, and I’d rather have a snow-covered city to a gray and bare city.

In essence, six days in and I’m super happy to be here. The first days of confusion and anxiety were helped away by a routine and the realization that there were hundreds of other students just like me. My moment of pride for today: Getting my metro card, he asked which zones I needed it for. I told him the stop I get off at – Ørestad – and though when I tell that to the international students they all say “what stop?”, he knew exactly what I was saying.

Day 5 - January 5

How pretty is the building where the International Office is?




A note about showers and lights: Showers are interesting. To be energy efficient, they only heat up to a certain temperature, although you can adjust a dial which sets which temperature that limit is (but there’s no mixing of hot and cold). The shower itself is extremely low pressure. It’s going to take quite a while to get used to. The other interesting thing about the shower is the set up. It’s a part of the bathroom…the same tile floor that is the bathroom is the shower. It’ll be easiest to show with a picture:



























My room was freezing until I finally figured out the heat. It wasn’t difficult, but I just couldn’t figure out which direction was the right direction to turn the knob.

Sara – one Canadian, Sylvia – another Canadian, Jason – a fellow BU student, and Claudia – an Austrian, and I ran around in the afternoon doing errands – going to the International Office yet again, finding a library to photocopy our entire passport (because to get our cpr number – a sort of verification of your resident permit/registration that you’re here – the paper said you need a copy, but, of course, just like at the Danish Consulate in New York, they never even asked for it…oh well, I suppose it’s good to have a copy of your passport just in case, even if the entire photocopying probably cost $10), and then getting registered for the cpr number. I recognized the word “tretten” (13) when two of the workers were talking, and I was excited. We can also now tell time, so whenever we ask the time (or giving phone numbers), it’s time to practice Danish. They have a very specific way of telling time. From 0-20 minutes, it’s “__ minutes over the hour”, from 20-30 it’s “___ minutes before half the hour”, from 30-40 it’s “___ minutes over half the hour” and from 40-60 it’s “___ minutes before the next hour”. It’s also apparently rude to say “Good morning” after 9:00.

Some photos around the city center:



Sara, Claudia, and I all live in the same kollegium, so we stayed together to get a metro card, (and get a photo for a metro card – almost as bad as my passport photo), and then to do some grocery shopping and make dinner. I have discovered that for some reason stores don’t like my debit card. It never actually fails but it takes forever to go through and then says “try again”. But my bank doesn’t charge for ATM withdrawals and it doesn’t seem like Danish banks do either, so I suppose I’ll be fine with just cash. I used to do it in the days before debit cards, after all…

Dinner!

Sara and Claudia did most of the cooking (I think I stirred the rice...) while I provided the kitchen.

A satisfying sweet and sour vegetable medley.


With all this Danish being pushed into my head and all the necessary errands, I was exhausted by 8. We have yet to learn how to say “I am tired” or “I am hungry”, although I feel as a college student they are two of the most important phrases. I ended up going to bed at 10 and was out in minutes.