It was so good - Norwegian Wood

My favorite thing about Europe:

If you bump into an acquaintance Monday morning and say, "hey, man! What did you do this weekend?" they may perfectly well respond with, "oh, nothing special... just went to [insert fabulous country here]."

You: "how was your weekend, Franni?'

Me: "Pretty good... just went to Norway. nbd."

Steven, Emily (herendeen), Caitlin and I decided to leave the Copenhagen shuffle for two nights and see the rest of Scandinavia. Both Steven and Caitlin are 1/4 Norwegian, so they were very interested in 'getting  back to their roots.' Off we went to Oslo.

Now, my family believes in very long car trips. Basically, if there is no ocean, we will drive there. Before 2008, I think I had only been on a plane 4 times. This whole "get to another country in under 2 hours" thing is crazy to me. But the plane ride from Copenhagen to Oslo was only about 55 minutes - I didn't even finish the episode of "Degrassi" I was watching on my iPod!

From my experiences with hostel culture, they are very very rarely in nice neighborhoods. For instance, when asking for directions at 'Le Village' in Paris, I received the following information: "take a right, and you will be at Sacre Coeur. Take a left... actually, just don't go left."

Well, our hostel was in Oslo's red light district. Right smack in the middle of it. (You didn't know Oslo had a red light district? Neither did we.) The place was nice, though; we had a private room with ridiculously comfy beds and a TV/DVD player. But when we tried to go out and explore on Friday night, all we found was hookers and falafel. We only tried the latter, but it was delicious.

The next morning, after dragging Steven out of bed (which took more effort than you would imagine), we went to the museums at Bygdøy. The Vikingskiphuset (Viking Ship House) was really baller. They had a fully-intact Viking boat, along with 2 burial boats and lots of crazy Viking paraphernalia, such as axes, sleds, statues and the like. There were even scraps of textiles from the Eastern villages that they plundered. It was amazing how much remained after over 1000 years.

Viking museum

Ship
Tools
Leather boots. How are they still intact???

After that, I dragged the group to the Norse Folkmuseum, which was described in the guidebooks as "a living textbook of Norwegian culture." I cajoled my friends into "at least an hour" there. 3 hours later, we decided we had finally seen it all.

The Folkmuseum is like a Scandinavian Old Sturbridge Village, with replicas of old farmhouses and people in costume doing old fashioned-y things, like milking cows or brewing beer. Since it is so close to Christmas, the place was all decked out with vendors and music and dancing Santas. It had snowed the night before and the entire place was a true Winter Wonderland. Take a look:

We spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the Oslo theater district, taking lots of pictures. It was pitch black outside, and we were hungry and found a cute Indian restaurant awkwardly located on top of a Burger King. It seemed kind of dead for dinnertime. Then we looked at the clock. It was 4PM. Oh right, we are in the friggin' Arctic. No matter, afternoon snack/dinner was really tasty and we wound up staying inside the toasty restaurant for several hours.

Forgot to mention that:

Norway is COLD. Like, colder than Boston. By a lot. Its not a windy, blustery cold; its a bone-chilling thing. Under the scarves and the turtlenecks and the leggins and the jeans and fur-lined boots and hat and mittens cold. I don't know how that works, but it does. Brr. Denmark felt tropical compared to that nonsense.

But the landscape is gorgeous. We kept finding children's books to compare it to. "Noway looks like Narnia!" "These woods are like the Secret Garden!" Personally, it reminded me of what I imaged the universe in "The Golden Compass" looked like when I read those books as a kid. Cigaze. right? Wasn't that the name? With all the snow and polar bears...

Sunday we went to the Gustave Vigeland sculpture park to frolic and giggle at the overly-sexual nature of the sculptures. Then we got hot chocolate. Next the National Museum, which has an amazing Edvard Munch collection and saw his most famous work, "The Scream." I liked the Munch-s more than I had anticipated, especially his self-portrait. Then we got hot chocolate. Afterwards, we visited the Akershus fortress and got a spectacular panorama of Oslo. Then - guess what? - we got hot chocolate. (What did you expect? It was balls cold!) We did a little shopping, had supper, and caught our flight back to Copenhagen.

Vigeland
See what I mean? That shit was weird!
...Weird, but beautiful...

Busy weekend. I would like to go back to Norway in the summertime, particularly the fjords up in Bergen. That would be beautiful. But I'm really glad we saw it around Christmas. This was exactly what I had hoped Scandinavia would look and feel like!

Hold Up, Wait a Minute

I am a firm believer in the gospel of Willy Wonka. And I quote the Good Book when I say, "so much time, so little to do! Wait, strike that. Reverse it."

My plane leaves Copenhagen airport at 12:20 on the 17th. I have only just now realized how much I need to get done before I leave, so I will be hitting a museum/monument/place of note a day until that time comes.

Studying abroad is strange, because you are not a tourist, not yet a local. There is a limited time to see and do anything, yet you don't feel pushed like you do on vacation to get out every morning. Although I have done a LOT in CPH (read the blog if you don't believe me! Plus other things that I forgot to mention), I have missed a couple of necessities. The next few days will be spent remedying that. Plus studying for finals. Plus packing. Plus eating at St. Petes every day so I can experience the 12kroner special in sequence. That is a necessity.

Today was the National Museum Day. The National Museum is HUGE, dense with artifacts from the Stone Age to the Baroque period. You can't possibly absorb it all, but that didn't stop me from trying! I found the sections on thoughts, beliefs, religion and mysticism the most interesting. Cro-magnon man had imagination, as evidenced by the fantastic cave drawings. Huh. Who knew?

The Prehistoric section was crammed with various tools and weapons and jewelry and skeletons. There was gigantic elk skeleton that was weirdly well-preserved, thanks to a peat bog which was so gnarly. My favorite part was the photos of burial mounds and funerary caves, along with skeletons of people from various social positions. This is probably due to the fact that I just read that book about dead people, but it was still fascinating. Why did prehistoric man do such things? What was the point? How did burying or burning the dead become a global practice? Why didn't they just, I don't know, throw them in the river or something? Food for thought, people. Food for thought.

Next I visited the replicas of 18th century interiors. Frankly, once you've seen Versailles, you've seen every fancy Baroque/Neoclassical residence. It was still amazing and beautiful, though, especially after the Stone Age stuff. I find it so unbelievable that man felt the need to create social institutions. Walking around the fancy dining area, I couldn't help but wonder, who invented "manners"? How did we go from Neanderthals ripping apart the freshly-killed moose to, I dunno, Puritans? Why? I know we have evolved, but what does that mean? Are we always moving up, or have we gone laterally in some respects?

Anachronistically, I checked out the Middle Ages section afterwards. There was an odd clock with a mechanism that pulled a stone upwards every minute or so. Gears clicked with the seconds, but I couldn't figure out the hours. There were lots of creepy Jesuses and icons all over the place, so I didn't spend too much time in the Church rooms (read: most of the exhibit), but I did learn a fun new tidbit: Did you know that some people believe in the Virgin Mary's mother, Anna? Apparently, Anna married 3 times and had 3 different daughters, all named Mary. Each Mary had children, so Jesus had a few cousins running around. There were reliefs of Anna and her family on the walls of several churches at the time, a few of which are now in the museum.

I really need to learn more about Christianity. I think I am pretty knowledgable about the basic tenets and stories, but reading more about it would absolutely enhance my understanding of world history, art and literature. Any book suggestions? (Besides the Bible. I don't think I'm ever going to find the motivation to hunker down with the King James for a relaxing evening of reading)

After the museum, I wandered around the area by the canals between Kongens Nytorv and Christianshavn. I got a hot dog from one of the pølser carts. (Copenhageners take their hot dogs very seriously: if you order one 'with everything,' you will receive ketchup, spicy mustard, remoulade, chopped onions, fried onions, pickles and - sometimes - honey mustard dressing. Its ridiculous, messy and makes your breath reek , but very tasty) Copenhagen really is a beautiful city, different than any other place I've been. It has more charm. I think that's it. It's very charming and quaint, with the lovely, colorful buildings and canals. The cobblestones don't even bother my feet anymore! How strange it will be to come back to the rowhouses of Boston...

Tomorrow, I'm taking myself out on the town all day. I plan to visit many of the free art museums and do some shopping. In the evening, we are having supper at Norrebro Bryghus and then drinks at Bar Celona. It should be a classy and cosmopolitan affair with lots of hygge. A perfectly Euro 21st. Dejligt.

Be Our Guest

I mentioned earlier that mom and Steve came to Copes for a week, but I never gave a full recap. So here it is:

When I picked them up at the airport, I brought a small Dannebrog (Danish flag) to wave when they got off the plane. I was so stoked to see them after almost 3 months of being apart (the longest I've ever gone without seeing my family!). Despite Steve's pleading for a cab, we went into town by Metro, since its cheaper and I knew exactly where their hotel was.

We arrived at Central Station, and I announced "ta-da, the Astoria hotel!"

"That's nice, Franni," Steve replied. "But we're staying at the Ascot."

Oops.

We took the cab after all.

After they unpacked, we decided to go for a walk around town. As we left the hotel, we bumped into Steve's buddy Steve "Toots" Toltz. Toots was in town for a conference and happened to be staying at the same hotel, so we all went out for coffee.

Dinner was at the restaurant that Walter always makes us go to. They have awesome burgers that are so big, you have to eat them with a knife and fork, plus really good fries and microbrew beer. I had a chicken sandwich with curry sauce, chutney and pineapple - really tasty.

The next day, we went to the Jewish museum. It is small, but quite excellent. The building is brilliantly  designed by architect Daniel Libeskind and contains interesting artifacts about the history of Jews in Denmark, with a focus on the rescue of almost the entire population from the Nazis. I would highly recommend it.

Lunch was at the cute and super-bourgeois Cafe Katz. My vegetarian pasta and Mom's goat cheese salad were out of this world. I haven't been to restaurants at all in Copenhagen because everything is out of the price range of your average college student, so it was great to be spoiled for a few days. However, I think Steve's favorite eatery in Copenhagen was the bagel joint down the road from DIS (they make bomb tuna salad), so... yeah.

When I had class, I sent them off to several museums, including my favorite, the Statens Museum for Kunst, and the Louisiana. I went to the Louisiana the week after, and we all decided that the Manga exhibit was surprisingly cool (albeit sketchy as hell) and Per Kirkeby is a Grade A bullshit artists. Art history-types out there, help me out: does anyone understand this dude? It all looked like nonsense to me. For instance:

But I digress. We also had a great time at the Museum of the Danish Resistance, which was amazing and is a definite must see. The scope and variety of artifacts is astounding and it gives an extraordinarily detailed account of the German occupation during World War II. We spent a ridiculously long time there. After, we ate at a cute cafe called "Mormor" ("grandma" in Danish) and shopped at Magasin. I almost bought a pair of red snakeskin skinny jeans at TopShop, but managed to restrain myself, haha. Later, we crashed my Danish class' hyggenat (hygge night - no good translation) and saw the new James Bond movie. Funnily enough, most of the bad guys are Danish actors. Huh.

Mom and I had a ridiculous meal at NOMA, a two Michelin star restaurant in Nyhavn. We ate lunch for 4 hours. 4 hours. Of non-stop eating. Here are some photos of the crazy shit we consumed:

Friday, we hung out at Robert's, my favorite coffee shop, and got fredagskage (Friday cake) at St. Petes. We went to Tivoli in the evening, and walked around, enjoying the lights and music and general magical Christmas spirit. We even caught a laser light and fountain show! Unfortunately, the camera was dying, so we didn't get good pictures. But the aebleskivers og glogg were terrific and we played with animatronic pixies. A cute time was had by all.

But seriously, I am so lucky that Mom and Steve managed to make it out to Copenhagen. Being on a program with other American students, you always have a bit of "America your home" with you; however, I don't miss America so much as I miss "Burlington my home," specifically "Family my home." Seeing this more personal and concrete representation of home meant the world to me. 

Things that are Awesome and Weird

1. Thanksgiving with a large group of Polish men

If you ever had my grandma's sponge cake or my mom's cranberry relish, you too would be heartbroken to be spending Thanksgiving on a different continent than the people you love the most.

Scratch that, everyone I know who is studying abroad was bummed about the prospect of a family-less Thanksgiving in a country where turkey is mostly MIA. Luckily, most of us had a great evening. Let me tell you about mine:

DIK, one of the kollegiums (Danish dorms), was having a potluck, so I bought an obscene number of vegetables at Netto and made not one, but two giant salads. There was a pretty big crowd at DIK (30 people or so), with people from all over the USA, plus Denmark, Sweden, Finland, Romania and Poland. Poland represented big time. Dinner was great: We had 2 kinds of mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes with marshmallows, creamed spinach, peas, garlic bread, clementines, gravy (no, not on the clementines, silly), mini apple pies, ruggelach, cookies, raspberry cheesecake, pumpkin pie, cranberry bread... and, yes, even turkey. Plus wine. Lots of wine. All kinds of wine. Holy crap we drank so much wine.

After eating ourselves into the requisite food coma, one of the Polish guys busted out an acoustic guitar and we sang dorky acoustic guitar songs, like "Wonderwall" and "Save Tonight." Astrud even managed to figure out the chords to "More Than Words," which added to the evening's nice 90s power ballad flavor. But in a good, hygge kind of way, ya dig?

Sadly, we never went around and said what we were thankful for. So I think I will do that in section #2.

2. Things I am thankful for in Denmark

• Sankt Peders Bageri - the best pastries and coffee I have ever had. A day without St. Petes is a day without sun. Truly. This is by far the best thing about Denmark.

• Cafe Culture - few things are more delightful sitting in a warm, cozy spot with an overpriced beverage. Plus they don't kick you out after 5... hours

• Watching the sun rise over the ocean - I kind of hate waking up before the sun (6:30AM), but its almost all worth it to watch it come up over the water while on my bike/bus. Something I would never do at Wesleyan.

• Open container laws - it never gets old! Drinking beer in public whenever you want (saw a dude with a Tuborg at 7:45AM, bless his heart) never. gets. old.

• My little kids at practicum - so cute. Can't handle it.
  

3. Field Trip to the Experimentarium

We went to the Experimentarium, which is an interactive, science-themed children's museum in Hellerup ("the Miami of Copenhagen," according to Pearse).

The experimentarium is AWESOME. They have a WIND TUNNEL. And DISECTIONS OF EYEBALLS AND BRAINS. And stuff that spins and other stuff that goes up and down and other stuff that shakes and lights up and makes noises. Oh! And a lion that you put your head in its mouth and it registers how loud you scream! Oh man. Seriously, if physics class were like that at Winsor, I might actually understand the universe. Maybe not, but I would definitely be more inspired to continue the science thing further.

The two best sections were a station about exercise and burning calories. I challenged Seth to a simulated triathalon: biking, ERGing and wheelchair racing. (He won, but I came pretty close in the wheelchair race!) As you move the machine, a drop of sugar water falls into the cup, depending on your heartrate and fat burn. At the end, the amount of sugar water you get represents the calories you raced off. Pretty nifty - good workout, too.

The other was the "Sensetunnel." John and I went in without knowing what it was. That was scary. The "touch" room is pitch black, and you have to feel your way around. The "sight room" is all mirrors (see photo), the "smell room" reeks - things like that. Awesome.

And speaking of being blinded with science...


4. Stiff by Mary Roach

So, I just finished a book about cadavers. It was awesome - totally worth all of those weird looks I got on the train every morning. And funny.

No, really! Check it out:

"The human head is of the same approximate size and weight as a roaster chicken. I have never before had occasion to make the comparison, for never before today have I seen a head in a roasting pan. But here are forty of them, one per pan, resting face-up on what looks to be a small pet-food bowl. The heads are for plastic surgeons, two per head, to practice on. I'm observing a facial anatomy and face-lift refresher course, sponsored by a southern university medical center and led by a half-dozen of America's most sought-after face-lifters." (p. 1)

Roach goes on to describe topics ranging from testing the "stopping power" of bullets on cadavers to crucifixion experiments to medicinal cannibalism. You learn about the ethics of organ transplant and anatomy studies. Every day I wondered whether I should drop my majors and pick up studying recess - excuse me, kinesiology - like Oleg so I can learn about how bodies work. But I think the book was sufficient and I would recommend it to anyone except the squeamish.



5. MGMT concert

I almost forgot! It was pretty good - the crowd was big and really into it. They sounded tighter and more confident than when they opened for of Montreal, but the complete lack of between-song patter was kind of awkward. The backing band was great, and they even played "Kids"! Well, kind of. Andrew and Ben just boogied around stage to a vocal track while the band played live. They must really hate that song. Too bad for them, its a crowd pleaser.

My biggest complaint was that the show was short, which is to be expected, seeing as they only have 1 album. They didn't play any covers, though - I was sort of hoping for a reprise of "Brown Eyed Girl." But the Danish hipsters were out in full force and ate the whole thing up. And we all boogied to "Electric Feel." Videos are up on youtube. And you know what else is on youtube?

6. The bald guy from Aqua (you know, the "come on Barbie, let's go party" guy) is on a Danish reality show called "All Stars" in which he competes against other Danish has-beens to see who can direct the best choir. His group of all-white Danes from the lovely island of Bornholm decided to sing "They Don't Really Care About Us," Michael Jackson's ode to depressed conditions in the ghetto.

You must see this.

But there you go you're sailing away - but there you are

Context for this post:
The metro broke down last night. Not only did I miss my bus, but it broke at a random stop that I had never been to before. This means that I walked 6 miles in the snow in HEELS around midnight to find a cab. No, I had no idea where the hell I was. No, there was no one around. No, my host family was not answering their cell phones.

This most unfortunate series of events gave me a lot of time - in between my brain's howling obscenities - to reflect upon my experience in Denmark.

DIS probably won't give this post "blog of the week." But here goes:

I appreciate my experience here. I have known from the outset that the opportunity to live in another country is an incredible privilege. For the most part, I think I have made the most out of what Denmark has to offer: academically-culturally (museums and such), socio-culturally (meeting Danish people, experiencing traditions), socially (bars, clubs - though not to the extent you might expect. More on that later.), naturally (the gorgeous landscapes), architecturally, politically, commercially, religiously.... I think I have covered the majority of my bases here.

Yet I have found this study-abroad experience lacking on a few levels. Academically, its not Wesleyan. It didn't pretend to be. Our assignments are predominantly "busy work" and, well, they've been keeping me pretty darn busy. I just wish that I felt like we were going more in depth, given the time committment expected. But... so it goes, I guess.

For Danish class, we had a project to "capture Danishness" through a 10-minute PowerPoint, which got me thinking. The entire time I have been here, I have been wondering about that whole "Danes are the happiest people" thing. Why? What makes them the happiest?

I think I have an idea:
Danes are very satisfied with the status quo. Now, the status quo is pretty great here. You have a lovely childhood, the welfare state takes care of your needs, you have had the same group of friends since pre-school, you can take a 3 week vacation to Thailand (no joke, this is really common). No complaints, really. If something bad happens, you watch it on TV and say, "tsk tsk, something should be done about those Arabs" - because, see, to a Dane, everything is the Arabs' fault - and then you drink some beer.

Harsh? Maybe. But here is my point: Danes are complacent and I am not. I'm not saying Danes are stupid and I'm not saying they are lazy; I am just saying that they are very satisfied with the way the world works. And the way the world works in Denmark is that all the people who look the same stick together. I could never live in that society. I need tension and discomfort and new experiences from people who aren't clones of myself. In retrospect, given my personality, I should have studied someplace like Paris or London or Cape Town - a wealth of diversity and excitement. Copenhagen is exciting, but the people aren't as dynamic as I had hoped.

But I knew that I was entering a homogenous society, which I precisely part of the reason I wanted to come here. I have never and will never again live someplace in which everyone is the same. Therefore, in order to get a) a true cultural immersion and b) a completely different cultural experience, I had to go someplace that wasn't necessarily what I liked, but what I needed for my own personal and intellectual growth.

On drinking culture:
My "party girl" rep continues to amaze and confuse me. Ryan always tells me, "girl, you so crazy!" Yeah, I'm a bit of a goofball and have few reservations when it comes to adventure (laser tag? karaoke? inappropriate dance parties? road trips to nowhere? LET's GO!). I make it out at least once a weekend, of course. But no, people, I am not in the clubs every night. No, people, I have not broken a thousand Danish hearts. Sorry, people, I'm usually fast asleep by 3AM.

I wonder if I am suffocating my "fun-ness." Am I just being too cheap/lazy? A little. But the Danish club scene isn't like those infamous Parties on Fountain. I like being around people I know (at least tangeantially) when I go out, I guess. And those sexy Danish men you are all imagining? They are AWKWARD. And not that cute, either. I really have no interest in them, which is a pity, because short brunettes are really in demand here. I guess they like diversity after all, haha.

In sum:
Parties are good, but without a great crew to share them with, who cares? And good conversation in a cafe is preferable to deafening techno in a club every time. Well, almost every time. Like, 90% of the time. Sometimes, man, I just wanna daaaaaaaaaaaaance.

I didn't leave MA or Wesleyan because I was unhappy. I have a great relationship with my parents. I love Wes. I love everything about Wes. I don't want to leave Wes. I knew that before I even thought about going abroad. That's why, even though I am having an amazing experience here, I am homesick. This whole thing would be so much better if all of you were here to share it with me.

That being said, going places alone never scares me. I don't think of it as being such a big deal. When people ask me, "don't you have any friends in Denmark?" I say, "no. That's why I am going to Denmark. To make friends." I like my independence and I like having to figure my own shit out. I like having time to think, because, as you all know, the middle part of my brain-filter-mouth mechanism frequently malfunctions.

So, yeah, it's good that I'm a little lonely. And it's good that I am not going out all the time. And it's fine that I don't loooooooooooove the Danish people and the Danish lifestyle. Studying abroad doesn't have to be the most super-incredible-fan-fucking-tastically-awesomely-awesome experience of my life. But I am getting what I wanted and needed:

I am learning about the world.
I am learning about myself.
I am on my way.

Its beginning to look a lot like Christmas?

True Story:
Woke up this morning, checked weatherbug.com (the weather in Denmark? scattered drizzles, Gene Kelly showers, or miserable, apocalyptic downpour. but I digres...) and it said flurries! Snow flurries! This weekend! Yay!

I went outside to get my bike and landed smack on my ass. Why? Ice.
Ice?
Ice!
Yay!
(sort of)

Winter is here. As David mentioned in his blog, autumn is much shorter in Western Europe than Eastern America. I was sad to miss the New England fall for the first time in my life, but even sadder to not experience that glorious first winter snow. The way the air is so cold it shoots through your puffy coat and into courses through your body. You feel it in your teeth.

As I mentioned earlier, Christmas hubbub is already in the works. Christmas beer is out and the Christmas markets opened in Nyhavn. I am thoroughly enjoying the international market in Gammeltorv and have been eating my way across Europe (first up: Dutch pancakes, followed by apricot croissants from France and Spanish paella. Tomorrow its either kangaroo, ostrich or crocodile burgers. Your thoughts?). There are pine garlands with red hearts along the Strøget and kiosks are selling aebleskiver and gløgg. Best of all, Christmas Tivoli!



(more on this when I do the big post about my parents' visit)













Thanksigiving is on Thursday and that should be... interesting. See, Jacob thinks I know how to prepare the meal myself. I don't. I'm more of a sous-chef than an actual cook, really. Like, I follow directions well, but I don't really "know what I'm doing." PS: sticking my arm in turkey cavities? Nej, tak.

Well, we shall see how that goes. In the meantime, I'll be singing "jingle bells" and avoiding my Health Care in Scandinavia research paper that's due tomorrow.

We Are Family

My parents are in town!!!!!

Hadn't expected to update the blog while they are here, but this evening was just so great I had to report while it was still fresh in my mind.

Mom and Steve finally came to visit the host family today, which happens to be the Danish holiday of Mortensdag. Mortensdag is the feast of St. Morten, Bishop of Tours and commemorates... something about Morten's getting betrayed by ducks? And then having to slaughter them? I really don't understand what went down (or why St. Morten also goes by the alias St. Jordi), but here's the Danish wikipedia article. Anyway, the Danes celebrate on November 10-11 by lighting candles and eating ducks and having a hygglit evening with friends and fam.

I really wasn't worried about my parents and host parents' getting along. Conversation flowed smoothly and it was wonderful to see Jacob's mom (host far-mor, if you will) and hear about her travels in China. I forget what we discussed, but it was lovely. And we ate and laughed and ate and drank and ate.

Boy, did we eat.

The duck was spectacular. Jacob really outdid himself. It was served with hot shredded red cabbage, two kinds of boiled white potatoes (plain and with caramel sauce... wahwahwaaaaah so good!), dried spiced apricots, plums and grapes, potato chips (idk) and 3 different kinds of liquor. First was a Christmas beer from a microbrewery, then a red wine, followed by gløgg for dessert, which is a Danish mulled wine with nuts and raisins. Dessert was, of course, Jacob's special æblekage with homemade piskefløde and preserves. I kind of feel sick from eating so much, but it was WORTH IT.

It was so nice to hear all of the wonderful things the Stages had to say about my family. Even Tobias commented that mom and I look exactly alike! Jacob, washing dishes only in a tshirt, boxerbriefs and "Hot Stuff" apron, commented on how "kind and open" my parents are. Trine was glowing and raving about them. I felt extremely proud. So glad to be reunited with the folks for a week! I am incredibly lucky.

Santa Claus is coming to town?

I think Denmark can best be described through the 4 Bs:
Bread
Bikes
Blondes
Beer

Last night, I experienced the Danes' intense affection for B4, specifically Tuborg Julebryg, Christmas Beer.

The night Carlsberg releases its Christmas beer is known as "J-Dag (day)," an unofficial national holiday in which the vast majority of Danes over age 18 hit the bars. J-Dag used to be on a Tuesday, but was moved to Friday because employers complained of too many workers calling in "sick" the next day.

So, in the name of cultural experience, we decided to check it out.

"Copenhagen Weekly" described the J-Dag events, including a launch party at the Carlsberg Factory at 7:45 PM. When Gabi, Liza and I arrived, we were delighted to see snow in the streets! Fake snow, of course. Snow that looked like... foam? Beer head foam? In the road? Awesome! (but kinda gross, too)

Well, turns out the party at Carlsberg was only for Carlsberg employees. Oops. Awkward. So we joined up with a HUGE group of DIS students to head into Copenhagen proper.

All of the bars on the Strøget were decked out with lights and balloons and, yes, more beer head foam piped out from the roofs like snow. We managed to split off from the gigantic and awkward crew of Americans and find a table near the door of the Irish Rover. Everything was ridonkulously expensive (a pint of Leffe Brune was 49DKK!), but came with a free cup of Julebryg, which is really good.

According to the Carlsberg website, "Tuborg Julebryg (5.6% ABV) is a bottom-fermented, wiener beer brewed on lager, münchener and caramel malt with English liquorice. The beer is dark-golden with a fresh aroma of caramel, grain, liquorice and blackcurrant. It's excellent with traditional Christmas recipes, smoked fish, grilled/fried herring, smoked ham with curly kale, roast pork and duck."

Carlsberg employees dressed as "pixies" (elves for you Americans out there) scamper into each bar once a night with several big cases of beer, blinking santa hats, stickers and other nonsense. Everyone sings "jingle bells" with "Ju-le-bryg! Ju-le-bryg! Tuborg Julebryg!" replacing the normal words. You sing and shout and push to get free beer. Its awesome. We also caught pixietime at The Globe, which was equally a hoot.

A very merry early Christmas, everyone!

Hope: No Longer Audacious

It is 5:22AM in Copenhagen and I am watching Senator John McCain's concession speech. The headline on my television says, "Barack Obama Elected President: CNN Projection - McCain 155, Obama 306."

Part of me is in shock, part of me is not surprised at all, yet all of me is at peace.

Growing up in a blue state, I spent the first half of my life watching Democrats in power and feeling that the American government reflected my family's values. My grandfather was a World War II vet who wore flag pins on the lapel of his blazer before they became a fashion statement. I made flag cakes on the Fourth of July and never begrudged saying the "Pledge of Allegiance" each morning in elementary school.

I saw no reason for the 2000 election to be any different. I went to bed confident in my Vice-President's victory and woke up hopeful. As the days and weeks dragged, pregnant with tension and chads, I was convinced that it was just a ridiculous phase in my country's history. It will pass. Clinton will come back. America will still be great.

I see no reason to recount the loss of our collective innocence in September 2001. But I will say that I have felt like a foreigner in my own homeland for the past 8 years. I chalked my alienation up to several factors: teenage rebellion, an increased consciousness, a generally precarious political situation. But one thing remained constant:

I never blamed President Bush. That was too easy, too obvious. My newfound cynicism was borne from something less concrete and more profound, I was sure of that. It can't just be one man.

I have always considered myself an optimist in every respect... except for politics. There is a newspaper clipping on my bedroom door at home that says, "Politics. From the Latin "poly" meaning "many," and "ticks" meaning "blood-sucking parasites." I had no trust for politicians - any politician in any government in any country. Therefore, I was wary of Obama and downright terrified of the ObamaNation "YES WE CAN" groupthink.

But now I'm watching John McCain say, "the failure is mine, not yours."

Of course he is referring to losing the election, but that statement has made me think.

I became disillusioned as a result of the actions and inactions (mostly the latter) of the American people, the American president and the global community. It was not America itself.

Tonight, I believe in America.

I know I'm unintentionally regurgitating tired pundit lines and I'm sorry. But that is how I feel. I think our country redeemed itself by choosing Senator President Elect Obama. We aren't a bunch of stupid, backwards, unchanging, passive, racist hicks. We can change. We can move forward. We can hope. Yes...

we can.

(That's the first time I've said that without making a joke, by the way)

John McCain just said, "believe always in the promise and greatness of America... Americans never quit. We don't hide from history, we make history." I didn't for a long time. But now I think I understand.

America is not George Bush.

America is not Barack Obama.

America is not me. Or my grandpa with his flag lapel pins. Or the pundits or the soldiers or the intellectuals or the hicks.

America is at once more solid and more amorphous than that. Living abroad and traveling has taught me that. I have never been one for partisan politics and I am not going to start now. My faith in my country has not been restored merely because the comparative liberal has been elected, that would be petty.

My faith has been restored because I see that America can move forward. America can heal. And this resolve comes from the mouths of all Americans, not just those in Florida and Ohio.

Now Obama has taken the podium:

"If there is anyone out there who still doubts that America is a place where all things are possible, who still wonders if the dream of our founders is alive in our time, who still questions the power of our democracy, tonight is your answer.
It's the answer told by lines that stretched around schools and churches in numbers this nation has never seen, by people who waited three hours and four hours, many for the first time in their lives, because they believed that this time must be different, that their voices could be that difference.
It's the answer spoken by young and old, rich and poor, Democrat and Republican, black, white, Hispanic, Asian, Native American, gay, straight, disabled and not disabled. Americans who sent a message to the world that we have never been just a collection of individuals or a collection of red states and blue states.
We are, and always will be, the United States of America."

I am crying. I am actually crying.

"Change has come to America."

I feel like Carmen Sandiego...

OK, gumshoes! Notorious gangster Franni Paley has escaped from her hide-out in Dragør and we have been chasing her across the globe! Here are some clues to here whereabouts...

Location #1

Franni was spotted...

Wandering down wide boulevards and narrow alleys of a northern European capital city, paying close attention to the spots where cobblestones become cobblerocks. She then visited a museum dedicated to a notorious Viking ship that sank after only 20 minutes after leaving the dock. Turns out, the beautifully elaborate carvings were too concentrated on the top of the boat and there wasn't enough weight on the bottom. Thing tipped over and sank like a stone - only to be lifted from the depths 300 years later - 100% intact. Amazing. One of the coolest things she has ever seen. Next came a visit to an international school in the British style ("jolly phonics!"), a charming supper in a funky underground cafe, and the most intense game of Egyptian Rat Screw since the CAAP smackdown of '02. She fled the city after visiting a Reggio Emilia preschool that she found extremely suspicious. More on that later.

Can you guess where she was?

Stockholm, Sweden!

Location #2

Franni was spotted...

Eating her weight in buffet food, taking in a cheesy Vegas-style show, pillaging the duty-free store and fending off the advances of creepy Turkish futbol hooligans who decided to (literally) sweep her off her feet and carry her away from the group - caveman style.

Can you guess where she was?

Creepshow City?

No, but close...

Booze Cruise on the Baltic Sea!

Location #3

Franni was spotted...

In an amazingly well-preserved Medieval city, the capital of a country most Americans have never heard of. She enjoyed the quaint architecture and quirky statues, and haggling with old Russian women at the wool market. Her gastronomic experiences were diverse: She drank the richest and most amazing hot chocolate in the cutest cafes, savored an authentic Medieval feast and ate antelope (though not all at the same time. That would be weird.). She learned Russian songs with 6 year-olds at a Waldorf School (as well as participated in a circle dance that involved grabbing each other's ears and noses - Oleg, please explain?) and observed the sketchiest Soviet kindergarten ever. Her accomplice? A woman from Trinidad, educated in Denmark, who married a Russian and moved to Estonia - and is one of the most fascinating people she has ever met. Then she listened to the "Love Song of a Migratory Bird."

Can you guess where she was?

Talinn, Estonia!

Location #4

After resting for a night in Copenhagen, she hopped a plane to a much more famous European city. Here, she was reunited with one of her most notorious henchmen (alias: Carrot Boy). She ate a three-course meal, partied with local students and had her breath taken away by one of the most famous cathedrals by moonlight.

Next she played 'princess' in a palace that no photo will ever do justice. However, the palace was taken captive by the dastardly Jeff Koons, which made the whole situation rather absurd. She then ate a nutella-banana crepe on the steps in front of Sacre-Coeur and fended off the advances of an over-eager business student from Tunisia who felt compelled to tell her his life story - only after making sure she was over 18 (Him: "in this country, it is illegal to do things with girl under 18, you understand?" Me: "oh, you don't have to worry. I'm over 18 and those things are never going to happen to you." Yet he still didn't get the hint. Even after I told him I was leaving to see my extremely jealous boyfriend, he tried to get my number.) After dark, she enjoyed the streets crammed with artists and tourists and music and energy and life... then some wonderful conversation with fellow world-travelers (!!!) from Australia, New Zealand, Austria, South Africa, etc...

The following day, David and I (3rd person is exhausting. Game over, gumshoes, I was in Paris.) went inside Notre Dame, picnicked in front of Sacre-Coeur, then walked along the Seine and picked out the houseboat we will retire on (classic sailboat, maybe with a garden on top?). We climbed up the Eiffel Tower and I made friends with a couple of little French boys who heard my speaking in English and declared, "I love American!" David left for class, and I walked back to Place de la Concorde, then along the Champs-Elysees to the Arc de Triomphe and back again. Another amazing meal followed at Le Polidor (sp?), where I learned how to drink wine like a real connoisseur.

Tuesday we went to the Musee d'Orsay for a Picasso/Manet exhibit, but stayed for the Impressionist, Post-Impressionist and Art Nouveau collections, as well as an exhibit about masks and another AMAZING feature on pastels. A girl from the hostel and I went to Cacao et Chocolat for the best hot chocolate in Paris, and then I met up with David and Papa Bear for another traditional French dinner. I had my first Parisian creme brulee. Life is good. We hit a jazz club afterward for amateur night - read: drunk American girls over-singing old Barbara Streisand songs - and almost got trapped in Gare du Nord. Not a place I would ever want to get trapped alone. Ever.

Wednesday David was at his internship at a cheese shop, so I was on my own for the morning. I went to a children's book exhibit at the Bibliotheque Francois Mitterand, which was super interesting and, oh yeah, entirely in French. I understood 90% of the information, mostly because it was geared toward children and their parents, but I was still pretty proud of myself. Also, I rediscovered "Where the Wild Things Are" (French title: Max et les Maximonstres). After that, I went to the happiest place on Earth: the French Cinematheque. I played with a zoetrope and watched "Serpentine Dance" the way Edison intended. There was a Melies exhibit with costumes and props from "A Trip to the Moon" and a really baller Dennis Hopper feature. Supper was with David's host family and the conversation? You guessed it - completement en francais. I think I held my own, though - merci beaucoup, Madame Minkoff! We then went walking around Monmartre and David was very sweet to indulge my flouncing about (I kind of forgot that I'm not really living in a 1950s musical or Truffaut film. Oops.). We got coffee at Amelie's cafe and stopped by the Moulin Rouge and Le Chat Noir. It was deliriously wonderful. 

Before I left, we went to Le Marais for the best falafel outside of Israel (ah.may.zing.) and I bought some challah from a kosher bakery because I really missed the stuff. Leaving Paris was really hard - as difficult as boarding the plane away from Israel. But I'll go back. I just have to.

But one day at a time, right? And tomorrow... I'm going to Russia!

Move on up toward your destination

I leave for Sweden in 9 hours. 45 minutes ago, I realized that there are only 2 pairs of clean underwear in my drawer and I have been wearing the same jeans for the past 3 days. While waiting for my laundry so that I can start packing, I'm writing a speedy, yet newsy entry.

Music:

I am addicted to motown/soul music. I don't know when or why this happened, but I actually cannot stop listening to the "curtis mayfield" and "marvin gaye" stations on last.fm. A day without Sam & Dave's "Soul Man" is truly a day without sun. OMG "My Girl" just came on - life is good.

Midterms:

Not awful. A lot of stuff needed to get done in 6 days (3 papers, 2 outlines, 2 exams, 1 oral exam), but I think they went well.

Yom Kippur:

I had an easier fast than usual, probably because I didn't understand people when they bitched about the lack of food/water (Danish: it's all Greek to me!). I had planned to crash at Chabad after Kol Nidre, so I arrived at 3PM, when Ruchel told me to. Um, the place was locked and empty. I rang the bell and nobody answered. Knocked on the door, nobody answered. After 10 minutes, I called Mom. Never in a million years did I think I would be trying to break into a freaking Chabad center. Finally a little girl came by.

"At m'daberet ivrit?" "Kayn! Kayn!" "Bayt chabad?" "Kayn, b'vakasha!"

And she let me in. Thank you, Temple Emunah Hebrew School.

I helped Ruchel the Rebbetzin and her 67 children chop vegetables - it reminded me of Shabbat at the Bayit at Wes, except Ruchel is less of a tyrant than D.Bar.

At dinner, Seth, Gil and I listened to an old man from Jutland pontificate on the history of Danish Jewry. It was really interesting, but Gil bristled when the man told him, "vous n'e^tes pas francais. Vous e^tes Juif." Interesting clash between old and new world Judaism - but maybe the man had a point? I don't know.

Kol Nidre was pretty good. The Great Synagogue is a wonderful location for it because of its majestic size and white and gold interior. I missed the cantorial stylings of David "Srebby" Srebnick at Emunah, but I found a Siddur like the ones we use at home, so that was nice. The inscription was from Tovah Feldshuh, an actress I greatly respect, so that was cool, too.

After services, I walked back to Chabad with Gil and we hung out with Yitzy the Rabbi and 3 Yeshiva boys, just shooting the shit about politics and religion and travel. I stunned Gil by perfectly translating a couple of articles in Le Monde (my French is better than I thought!) and learned about - ready for this? - action movies for ultra-Orthodox jews. I'll try to find some titles from Yitzy and let you know how they are. The Yesiva boys were cool, 2 were British and had cute little Paul McCartney accents when speaking, but when davening, they sounded like little old men from Ze Old Country.

Anecdote: the stairwell in Chabad echoes. You know how American kids test echoes by yelling out stupid things? One of the Yeshiva boys tried it out by going "Koooooooool Niiidreeeee."

Services were spent with my new friends who recognized me from Rosh Hashanah. Sharon from Stockholm and I bonded majorly. And I saw the cute little old grandma with the sweet grandchildren, who greeted me with a, "hello, American girl who misses her family!" She then invited me to her house for the breakfast.

At the Chabad breakfast (bagels and lox! And eggsalad and tuna salad!), the man from Uruguay introduced me ("Ah! Mrs. Boston!") to his son, who is considering spending a semester studying communications at BU. The father was pounding back the whiskey shots, as was the Rabbi and every man over 30. Gut yontif, indeed.

Jonathan's Birthday:

Jonathan turned 11 on Thursday, so Friday was his birthday party with his class from school and today was the family party. The kids were SO CUTE. The party was loosely structured - entertainment ranged from watching the popcorn in the popper, playing "CounterStrike" and watching "Jackass," jumping on the trampoline, freezedance (to Rihanna's "please don't stop the music," obvi) and charades. It was funny to watch the kids: boys on 1 couch, girls on another, things like that. And Jonathan has a cute little girlfriend. Her name is Alberte. Aww...

Culture Night:

After the party, I headed into the city with Gabi, Liza, Madeline and DeDe for KulturNatten, the night when all of the museums, monuments, cafes, etc. are open late with special events. We explored the ruins under Christiansborg with a flashlight, which wasA really neat. Then we wandered around the Stroget, City Hall and Radhusplasen. So many people were in the streets! Young, old, drunk, sober... I have never seen Copenhagen this crowded before! The cobblestones at Amager Torv were sticky from all the beer spilled - it felt like a frat house floor.

Hilarious moments:

"My ex-boyfriend always wore an orange sweatshirt."

"did you date Kenny from South Park?"

On the Metro, we met the Super Mario Brothers and Hunter S. Thompson.

(After getting toasted, sugared almonds)

"You can eat the nuts."

A drunk man dancing to "Get Down (You're the One for Me)" by the Backstreet Boys.

"Are people from the Czech Republic called Czech... Republicans?"

And, oh yes, the Lederhosen boys.

Many other amazing things happened, and several facebook albums shall be made, but I need to get ready for bed soon. Plus I didn't even mention...

The Canal Tour of Copenhagen

and

Jonathan's Birthday Party 2.0

(or, how I ate my weight in carbohydrates - twice).

Hopefully I won't forget after the trip to Sweden and Estonia. I just hope my clothes are dry enough to pack by now...

I am a terrible fangirl

NEW JENNY LEWIS ALBUM!!!!!

OMGOMGOOMGOMGGOGOGOMG

It dropped 2 weeks ago and I had NO IDEA. I was too busy losing my mind over the amazing new efforts by my other 2 favorite girl singers (Dar Williams and Amanda Palmer). Seriously, if M.I.A. had a new CD out now, it would be the 4 horseladies of the AWESOMEpocalyspe. (wait - does she? nope. just checked, haha)

OK, I am now listening to Acid Tongue via internet leaks, and, thus far, like what I hear. She had played "Carpetbagger" on the last couple RK tours, but with Blake or Johnathan Rice on male vocals. But, what's this? Her duet partner sounds familiar... OMG IT IS ELVIS COSTELLO! Oh, Jenny, you are true rock royalty now!

She sounds good, doing a lot more falsetto-y stuff with her voice, but I think her vocals were a lot stronger of Rabbit Fur Coat. This CD has none of the blue eyed soul from the Watson Twins collaboration, which I really liked, but it is good to hear her back in country-roots-Americana-rock. "The Next Messiah" rocks - classic blues with a driving White Stripes-y baseline, but the subject matter is pure Jenny (Christian hypocrisy and daddy issues). And I'm stoked that a plugged-in version of "See Fernando" made it on the album! Her performance on Conan, but I think it would have been better a little more stripped-down. All in all, I like the postmodern-meets-vintage, Brooklyn-meets-the-heartland vibe. Its what she does best.

Then again, there was no way I was not going to like the album!

I'm writin' 'bout the book I read

With the 45-minute commute every day, my reading time has increased dramatically. Here is a quick review of what I have read/am reading:

Goodbye, Columbus by Philip Roth
Goodbye, Columbus is a collection of fictional novellas and short stories about the postwar American Jewish diaspora, mostly in the New York/New Jersey area (of course.) "The Conversion of the Jews" is one of my favorite short stories, but I never finished the whole book, and the short story format lends itself well to the continuous interruptions of reading on busses and trains. I love Roth's no-frills, no-nonsense, no-bullshit style, it is a welcome change from some of the flashy writers I read this summer (Hunter S. Thompson, Tom Robbins and Elizabeth Gilbert). I think "Defender of the Faith" was my favorite. It is the story of a Jewish sergeant in the US Army who receives requests for special treatment from Jewish privates. The motives of the privates are ambiguous, and it is ultimately questions how the Jewish people are going to survive. Goodbye, Columbus is a very interesting, insightful read, but I wonder to what extent someone who has had little to no contact with the American Jewish community would appreciate the intricacies and complexities of the stories.

Favorite Quote:
"I'm not a planner, Brenda. I'm a liver."
"I'm a pancreas."

My Sister's Keeper by Jodi Picoult

Not light reading. Picoult has written an extremely compelling and original story that continues to haunt me. It is the story of a family whose daughter Kate is diagnosed with leukemia. In order to save her, they genetically design a child, Anna, to become a perfectly-matched donor. After numerous surgeries on both girls, Kate's kidneys begin to fail, and Anna is required to give one of her own to her sister. This is the last straw: Anna files a lawsuit for medical emancipation from her family. The subsequent struggles explore medical practice, ethics, justice, the role of parent and child, honesty, lost love and how a family can burn itself out. The end is devastating. I really loved the book, but felt Picoult heaped the symbolism on where it really wasn't necessary. Also, each chapter is told from a different character's perspective, but she doesn't change her style enough to give each character a believably distinct voice. Overall, a genuinely significant work. Believe the hype.

Favorite quote:

Doubt thou the stars are fire,

Doubt thou the sun doth move,

doubt truth to be a liar,

but never doubt I love.

(from Hamlet)

The Complete Short Stories by Ernest Hemingway

Hemingway is a baller. No other words. This is an ongoing project - homeboy wrote a LOT.

Favorite quote:

psh...

Currently reading...

Black Mass: The True Story of an Unholy Alliance Between the FBI and the Irish Mob by Dick Lehr and Gerard O'Neill

I love Boston.

Reporters Lehr and O'Neill were following insider's theories about James "Whitey" Bulger's informant status for the FBI a decade before this was proven to be true. As a result, this book is argumentative, fiercely research and wholly brilliant. Much better than The Departed - and I really liked that movie!

Comment:

Sarah Palin kind of reminds me of Billy Bulger. Both are scrappy, hard-line conservatives. Both value showmanship - although, in a significant variation, Bulger successfully kept his family (including, to an extent, his mobster brother) out of the public eye - and maintaining their connection to your Average Joe. Palin is definitely a throwback to the showbiz politics (on the right and the left) of the mid-20th century. Think of the Democrat political machine Tammany Hall in New York. Palin comes from that tradition, she is nothing new. Except for one twist: now its a girl who is shaking you by the collar. Just a thought...

Over break, I'm hoping to finish Black Mass and also read The Pedagogy of the Oppressed by Paolo Friere. I'll let you know how all that goes.

This week is heavy on the midterms and atoning, so I won't be updating much/at all. Then I'm off to Sweden, Estonia, France and Russia. Hopefully, I'll have time to write and reflect between trips.

**EDIT**

Music I'm currently enjoying:

Move On Up  by Curtis Mayfield

If I Could Build My Whole World Around You by Marvin Gaye & Tammi Terrell

Me and Mrs. Jones by Billy Paul

It's Alright by Dar Williams (Fountains of Wayne cover off the new album)

Vietnam by Bear Hands

After the Fall by X-Patriate (Alan J. Lipman)

Boston by The Dresden Dolls

Pierre by The Dresden Dolls (this one is for you, mom! Remember Ms. Wilson's class?)

...and pretty much the entire new Amanda Palmer album - especially "The Point of it All" and "Leeds United." Thanks to producer Ben Folds (!!!), it is a lot pop-ier than her stuff with the Dolls, but she hasn't lost any of her intensity. Also, check out the videos on youtube. Gnarly.

So this is the New Year (5759)

Happy Jew Year, everyone! Sorry I didn't update over the last couple of days, I tried to avoid using the computer on chag.

Needless to say, spending the High Holy Days (Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur) with a continent's distance from my family and without any Jewish friends resulted in major homesickness on my part. The worst moment was when I realized that I have not given or received a hug in 6 weeks - and all of you should know how much I love hugs.

Walking up to "The Great Synagogue" on Krystalgade for Monday ma'ariv (evening services), I noticed that the entire building is surrounded by a high metal fence. There are no lamps or signs in front of the shul, but there are 2 security guards. I was shocked when they started interrogating me ("what is your business here?" "uh... to pray?"), and became fairly confused and disoriented. My thoughts consisted mostly of "What the crap am I doing in Denmark instead of Lexington, MA?" and "Oh my G-d Oh my G-d Oh my G-d," the latter of which, in retrospect is pretty ironic and hilarious. I think I looked like I was about to cry, because the guard eventually smiled at me and told me I wasn't the only DIS student there.



10 minutes later and relieved to be done with the Danish Inquisition, I walked into the sanctuary and quickly realized that it was Orthodox. I looked down, saw my bare elbows, and worried about being perceived as some Jezebel, but it was too late. I was already inside and couldn't keep my fleece on all evening.

The Great Synagogue is exactly what I'd imagined an old, European temple would look like. The sanctuary is HUGE - men sit on the main floor in front of the biggest aron kodesh (fancy closet that holds the Torah scrolls) I have ever seen. Women sit in a balcony on the sides and in the back of the room, per Orthodox tradition.

Though the building looked just like I expected, the sound of the room was odd. The cantor was positively incoherent and sang far too quickly; basically, he chanted the Hebrew like Danes speak Danish. It was impossible for me to keep up, not that it would have mattered, because no one in the shul was singing along. Most of the women and girls were chit-chatting at obnoxious volumes (Mom, I'm sorry for all of the times I got mad when you would talk at Emunah. These ladies make you seem like a freakin' churchmouse [shul-mouse?]). As for the men, they were also quiet, leaving the praying to the cantor and a small choir of 7 men.

Dinner was at the Rabbi's flat inside a wing of the synagogue. I found a couple of Prozdor girls among the crowd, but our conversations were brief and stilted. Turns out, I was the only DIS student who came without a posse of at least 3 friends. Fabulous. The moments leading up to dinner were painful reminders of why I had to be dragged kicking and screaming to USY events back in the day.

As I resigned myself to an evening of delicious food yet sour company, the girl sitting in front of me at services asked if she and her friend could sit at our table. I might have pulled over a chair with a little too much enthusiasm, but they didn't seem to mind. They were students from Tel Aviv, learning about the fairy tale tradition in Denmark and Norway for 3 months. The Israeli girls and I talked the whole evening, debating politics, religion, food and culture (after playing a quick round of "Jewish Geography" - one has a cousin who goes to Wellesley College! The other was a counselor at YJ!) No real revelations of note: they worry about Obama's "being good for Israel," doubt Livni's potential for success in forming a government, and think I am compromising the integrity of Rosh Hashanah by taking the Metro on chag. Needless to say, we mostly disagreed on the aforementioned subjects, but I really enjoyed talking to them. They invited me to Chabad for lunch after services the next day, and I accepted.

Now, David Baranger, I can feel your eyes rolling all the way from Paris. Yes, I did go to Chabad and yes, I did have a nice time and no, I am not currently wearing a sheitel and planning on having 7 sons named "Yossi." (For those of you who don't know, Chabad is an ultra-Orthdox brand of Judaism who kind of proselytize to less observant Jews) The Rabbi and Rebetzin were young, warm, funny and very kind. I am planning to stay with them for Yom Kippur so I don't have to deal with the commute to and from the city.

Lunch was essentially a refugee camp for wandering Jews. We had a Holocaust survivor-cum-cab driver-cum-businessman from Latvia (now Miami). We had a French Jew who is studying economics/partying in Århus. We had a former merchant marine from Denmark who has sailed around the world. I met people from Uruguay, Morocco, England, Israel and the US. We talked about travels and politics and education... everything! Its like that song we learned in Hebrew School; "wherever you go, there's always someone Jewish..."

Lunch lasted for 3 hours. I forgot about the different courses, so I loaded up on salads (7 or 8 different kinds! Plus hummus and olives and other yummy, Israeli tapas things) and challah before we got to the main course, goulash and rice and kugel and "modern tzimmes" (carrots and sweet potatoes in puff pastry - delicious!).

Funny story: on the way to taslich, we passed a man walking his chocolate lab. The dog affectionately hopped up on my legs, and I gave him a good ear tousel. Gil, with whom I had been walking, ran away. When I finally caught up with him, he looked at me with this glare of disdain that only the French can give and declared, "I 'ate dogs." It was such a French stereotype, I almost fell down laughing. I don't think Gil got the joke...

The next day I came back for more of the same. The food and international company were wonderful - I got invited to join a Jewish women's group! I heard more differing perspectives on the election (apparently, Obama is a self-proclaimed Muslim with connections to the mafia who should get deported. That one was from an American)! I got invited to join a Jewish women's group! Good times.

Anyway, shanah tovah tikateivu - may you be inscribed in the book of life! And have a good and sweet year.
Ahava,

I dig rock n roll music

Last night, John, Walter and I hit up the "Klub Geyser Festival" at Islands Brygge Kulturhus. Doors opened at "klokken otte i aften" (8 PM, for you non-Danes), so we got there about 10 minutes early. No one else was there except for some older people (they had to be 60+), but we had already paid the cover, so we decided to stay.

The opening act was super dubious. It was a 30something bearded gentleman with an acoustic guitar who sang "a welcome song" with the following lyrics:
Hello sun, let's have some fun
Hello moon, its much too soon
Fool, you are so cool
Fool, its not so cruel

(And my favorite couplet:)
We can make love in a flower bed
Or, if you like, do something else instead.

It reminded me of Coco's song from Flight of the Conchords, except, you know, sincere.

Turns out, the crowd became hipster-ified fairly quickly, which was quite a relief. Still, the atmosphere was more laid-back than clubs in the States. It was set up cabaret style, with small tables and cheap beer and big comfy chairs and candlelight. Hygge.

Nuance, the first band, was a kind of country-bluesy, featuring a female lead singer, sassy fedora-wearing bassist and banjo player. Naturally, I liked them. They sang in English, but all of the inter-song banter was Danish. Very disorienting.

The next artist was Cecille Trier and Le Fiasko. Very dark, with haunting harmonies and intense, atmospheric instrumental sections, and her vocal delivery was in the Amanda Palmer-Aimee Mann-Kate Bush vein. They did a nice cover of "Anthem" by Leonard Cohen, but I like almost all Leonard Cohen covers more than the originals. Brilliant songwriter, miserable singer.

The third group, Født Uden Filter, performed entirely in Danish, so I'm not quite sure what happened. Then again, I don't think I would've understood in English, either. It was a girl singer with two backup singer and an acoustic guitarist doing 'funny' songs. They danced and were silly and had props like giant cardboard teardrops. At one point, the backup singers put on sparkly golden cardboard bikinis and sang "get your hands off of me! get your hands off of me!" Whoosh - right over my head.

Il Tempo Gigante is a Danish band with a name in Italian, whose lyrics are in English. Got it? I can't put my finger on who they reminded me of - Calexico? Califone? All I know is their instrumentals were super clever and I loved the use of unusual instruments, like the saw. Good sleepytime music. Really cool stuff.

The last band I absolutely adored and you should check them out here . They are called the Elephants, and their music is sunny indie surf-pop. Los Campesinos! meets the Beach Boys, really fun. I danced out of the venue.

For a 60kr fee, we saw 6 bands and the music continued until 1AM! Sweet deal, huh? We all had a great evening.

Family Affair

Living with a host family is a weird experience. Kerplunk - now you are in someone else's world. And I'm operating in a bit of a vacuum - what happens in Copenhagen stays in Copenhagen - but for them, this is their reality and everything that happens over the four months we're living together will actually have a consequence. Somedays I feel really out of place here. I don't know what to do with myself and worry that I am intruding on something or messing everything up.

Today was not one of those days.

This afternoon, we went to Amager Strandpark, a boardwalk near Copenhagen. Jonathan and Tobias took their scooters and Jacob his rollerblades. Lots of people were strolling along the promenade, flying kites or watching the windmills churn double time because of the brisk gusts. One crazy soul was even going for a swim! We got ice cream and enjoyed each other's company and the pleasant (if windy) outdoors. A very nice afternoon.



Later, I came into the house to get some water (remember, my room is a detached annex) and saw the four of them on the couch, watching TV by candlelight. Jacob had just made cinnamon buns, and he gave me two on a plastic Pikachu plate. Trine loosely translated the serial for me during lulls in the action, and Tobias annoyed everyone by quacking his duck whistle whenever something exciting happened. I really felt at home, then. So this is Danish hygge... I like it.

Bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!

Today I took a long bike ride along the water. It still feels summery out in Dragør - I love it. Nothing to report except general contentment. And I think this video pretty much sums up how I feel out here.

But it also works double duty. RIP Paul Newman, one of the greatest movie stars and philanthropists. His legacy will be as luminous as those baby blue eyes.

99 Bottles of beer on the wall

Last night, Ryan and I attended a seminar called "Culture through a beer mug." As you might know, the Danes love their brewskies - Carlsberg is cheaper than water at many restaurants! Also, now that crappy college keg beer is no longer my only option, I figure I might as well get an education about the good stuff.

The seminar was held in the student lounge of one of the DIS buildings, so I wasn't really sure what to expect - is this going to be legit? But the set up was actually really nice. Frank Sinatra was playing on the stereo, long tables set with white cloth tablecloths, candles, and glass goblets. Not solo cups - goblets.

Our leader, Søren, introduced himself as a "part-time alcoholic" who was going to teach us about various microbreweries in this part of Europe. We went through the "Periodic Table of Beer" and learned about different kinds of beer: ales, lagers and the variations thereof. Then came the testing:

We started with "Økologisk Classic" from Thisted Bryghus, a pilsner. Søren said that the problem with most pilsners on the market is that they have become so watery that the flavors of the beer are all but lost. He said microbreweries is the way to go because "they aren't afraid to offend your tastebuds." I loved the classic, its the not too light, not too dark - perfect compliment for a meal or just chilling out with friends.

Next was Herslev Bryghus Hvede, a pale ale. It was almost yellow in color, with lots of condensation at the bottom. It smelled and tasted like bananas. Weird, but tasty. Still, I don't think I'd go out and buy it.

The following beer had the best company name: Bryggeriet Djævlebryg (The Devil's Brewery - slogan, "Satans gode øl," or "Devilishly good beers"). Søren said that this was a beer that people either love or hate - I thought it was OK.

A Brockhouse India Pale Ale came after. IPAs have a pretty funny history: when Britain had colonies in India, the government would send shiploads of beer to the men in India. However, due to the long journey around the African coast, more preservatives were needed so the keep the beer from turning into mildew. Most common preservative used? Alcohol. Leaving the port in England, the liquid was about 3.6% abv. Upon arrival, it was more like 16%

The next beer was a really really dark stout. Like, really dark, almost black. It looked like soy sauce and tasted almost like coffee, with a sort of bacon-y aftertaste, people said. We had an Ølfabrikken in the can, the best stout in the world, according to Søren. Yuck. Yuckyuckyuckyuckyuck. I took 3 sips and gave the rest to Jake. I'm sticking to the lighter girly stuff.

The last was by far the best. It was a 2007 da Capo barley wine from Musik Bryggeriet. SO GOOD. It wasn't very dark, but still really flavorful and something like 10% abv. You can only buy it in select stores, but do yourself a favor and get some - it is outstanding.

The point of the evening was to enjoy and learn about microbreweries, however, after 6 glasses of the stuff, I was feeling it. Ryan and I had plans to go to Christiania's anniversary celebration after the tasting, and we brought a few kids from the group with us. On our way to the free town, we stopped at 7-11 for more refreshments. And got a couple of 6-packs of Tuborg to split among the group.

Some things never change.