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.

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.

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...