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 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.

Its Peanut Butter Jelly Time!!!

Went to Kvickly today to buy fixin's for John's birthday cake (more on that tomorrow after the surprise party). Guess what I found in the "Økologisk" (organic) section?

Peanut Butter.

I put some on a banana and practically melted into a puddle of joy. Life is wonderful.

Go West, Young Woman! (Odense)

Sorry for the lack of updates. No excuses, just laziness.

Last week, DIS took my program ("Child & Developmental Psychology: Children in a Multicultural Context") on a long weekend to Western continental Denmark (Jutland). For Copenhageners, Jutland is essentially the boondocks, so I wasn't too thrilled about our destination at first... until I found out we got to go to LEGOLAND. But I am getting ahead of myself...

My journey started off bright and early: 5AM. It wasn't very bright, but it sure as shit was early. As the bus pulled out of Frue Plads at a miserable 6:30AM, we watched the sun rise over Copenhagen. Fanfreakingtastic. Sidebar: earlier that week, the city of Copenhagen outlawed buses that emit a certain amount of pollution. This meant that the charter bus DIS had rented was illegal, so once we left the city limits, we had to switch automobiles.

We got to Odense, the 3rd largest city in Denmark (population 158,000 - the comedy writes itself here, people) around 9:30 to visit a pre-school. Børnehuset is a kindergarten located in an immigrant neighborhood that is undergoing a rapid gentrification. It is now about half and half immigrants and ethnic Danes. The focus is on cultivating language skills so that the children will be well-prepared to enter primary school at age 6.

What I found most interesting about Børnehuset was the extensive communication between parent and pedagogue. At the beginning of each day, the pedagogues take photos of each child and upload them to a flat-screen television that flashes them on a loop. As the day goes on, photos from the activities are added to the slideshow. This way, parents can know what their kids did all day. There are also twice-yearly parent conferences, a parent advisory board, and written reports from the pedagogues, all keeping the adults informed of their little darlings' activities. The teacher we met with explained that 75% of her time at the school is administration, rather than education. Wow - and I thought American parents were demanding!

After that, we had the afternoon to explore old town Odense. It reminded me of the town from "Beauty and the Beast," with its quaint cobblestone streets, candy-colored houses, and mom-and-pop shops. I'll post my pictures soon, but here are some of Liza's to tide you over:

Our favorite attraction was a gigantic statue of a naked woman with the craziest muscle definition I have ever seen. There was also a statue by Yoko Ono of either herself or John Lennon (you really can't tell) surrounded by doves with the caption "Imagine all the people living for today - 1981."

I also liked the street musicians - especially an adorable old man playing the accordion who mugged shamelessly for my camera.

We then checked out the Hans Christian Andersen museum. Gabi and I listened to a recording of Ginger Rogers' reading "The Princess and the Pea," which is one of the cuter things I've heard in awhile. The grounds were beautiful, but it wasn't a great museum per se. HC, the pride and joy of Denmark, deserves better. Plus the gift shop was waaaay too sparse - what gives?

Dinner was, to continue the theme, at a restaurant called "The Ugly Duckling" (Den Grimme Ælling) Good, FREE food, served buffet-style. It was the best lamb I've had since Israel and the salad bar was better than MoCon. Pandekagen with chocolate and raspberry ice cream and marzipan for dessert - oh man, I can't even begin to describe. All 37 of us were members of the clean plate club that night.

After dinner, Madeline, Liza, Gabi and I roamed the streets. We found some cute bars and cafés, but nothing really gets going until late and we were bushed. What we DID find were some drunkitydrunkdrunk Danish guys (at 8PM?) who liked following us around and sneaking into our photos:

Despite my pleas to go to the "James Dean Dance Bar," we wound up at a cute Euro café, sipping the best cappucinos we've ever had, enjoying the heat lamps and each other's company. I even flirted with the cute foreign waiter, in honor of Granna. Then back to the hostel to gear up for day 2: Skanderborg.

I ate a cheeseburger... and I liked it!

// This post is dedicated in loving memory to Hy Eisenstein, one of the most warm-hearted people I have ever had the good fortune to love. (Also, a connoisseur of all things treif.) Visits New Jersey won't be the same without you, Hy, and I already miss you terribly. //

Keeping kosher has always been an accepted part of my life. It wasn't one of those things I did just because my parents told me to, either. Ever since I knew the definition, I knew exactly why I did it and what it meant. For me, kashrut is a thrice-daily reminder of my faith; sustenance with a side of Semitism, if you will.

My relationships with Judaism, with G-d, with the Jewish people, and with Israel have always allowed for questions and re-evaluation. For most of my life, though, it was more plate tectonics than anything else. Shifts were being made, but it was occurring at such a gradual, subterranean level that you couldn't see it with a naked eye. Sure, it was happening, but the final product seemed so far away.

To continue the simile, I feel like I woke up one morning this summer to find that Europe and Asia were now to separate continents (of my subconscious, of course). I continued to ask the same old questions: Do I believe in G-d? (probably) Do I support the existence of a Jewish state? (passionately, but rationally) Do I feel a connection to the global Jewish community? (YES) Do I want to continue and deepen my involvement with it? (YES YES YES) But then a new question cropped up:

Why?

Now I'm stuck. I don't know why I do the things I do in order to feel "religious." My greatest frustration is the fragmentation of global jewry, yet I secretly think of myself as superior because I had a Bat Mitzvah and know stuff about the Tanakh and could probably chant Shacharit backwards and in pig latin if you asked me to. I hate to admit this. I am seriously considering deleting this paragraph, but I can't. It needs to be said: I'm a bit of an elitist.

Realizing this sucked, and kind of put me into an existential funk. "Is what I'm just putting on a show to prove to G-d, people I encounter, my self that I actually am a good person? Is it real? Or am I blindly following a script just to make myself look good?"

These are really icky questions. I've asked them about other people, namely liars and crooks who attend morning minyan and make a show of their knowledge of Pirke Avot (Jack Abramoff immediately comes to mind). How can you keep kosher, I ask, but not live kosher?

Obviously I am no Jack Abramoff. In fact, I think I have proven myself to be pretty decent. I'm not going to rattle off all of my merits, but trust me, some exist. But when I do make that list of the things that make me an (I believe) objectively "good person," my keeping kosher is not included.

I will never forget a conversation I had with Ankit first semester of freshman year. I happened to mention my following Jewish dietary laws, and he responded with this gem: "Really? But you seem too rational to follow that kind of dogma!"

Faith has nothing to do with reason. That's why its called faith. And I think that faith and religion are also separate entities* - but that, ideally, shouldn't be the case. But I think that my reason and my religion need to have more cognitive pow-wows. I need to know rationally that the purpose of my religious action is to express and deepen my faith.

I've kept kosher as a reminder of my faith and connection to the Jewish people. Now, honestly, I don't feel like I need the reminder anymore.

I've always liked to try on aspects of other faiths for size (Today's religious forecast: cloudy, with a chance of Hindu). I like tradition and pageantry and rules and laws and philosophy and all of those things that religion entails. Yet I always come back to Judaism as my home base. It is a big security blanket of spirituality that will always keep me warm at night. I am a Jew. My kids will be raised as Jews. I will be buried as a Jew. Slowly, I am beginning to see that the religion I happened to be born into is truly the right one for me.

And now, I realize that the most important thing in my life is, well, living. L-I-V-I-N'. Appreciating life and loving every moment and giving all I can and loving people and maintaining a goofy, childlike sense of wonder about everything I see: these have become my modi opporandi.

Now what does this have to do with Judaism or kashrut?
Everything.

I am now living my life in a wholly Jewish fashion. The here and now, the committment to justice and goodness today, not tomorrow. Rejoicing and learning and loving and giving: that is my postmodern hippie definition of Judaism. My desire to follow this model at all times means more to me - on the levels of reason, religion, and faith - than giving something up whenever I hit the cafeteria. This lifestyle reevaluation is, pardon the pun, something I can truly 'sink my teeth into.'

I will never eat pork or shellfish, more for the fact that they gross me out than anything else. But all other meat is totally cool by me. I'm not going to flaunt this change (other than this blog post, of course! haha), nor am I going to apologize for it.

The punchline, however, is this:
When I ordered that fateful burger... I didn't even realize there was cheese on it until it was almost gone.

Keen on Disco

Today's discovery:

TRASHY DANISH TECHNO!!!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=buXJlBd3Mf8

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P7sl2ap9zZo&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lj_qcOr3X4E&feature=related

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QwfADa_I1w4&feature=related
(Jonathan loves this one)

and for good measure, here is a techno remix of the danish national anthem:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c4B7IaK15N8

It's been one week since you looked at me

It's official: I have been in Denmark one week. Jetlag is gone, I'm getting lost with less desperation, I have some friends and hearing Danish everywhere no longer overwhelms me.

All in all, I think I'm adjusting rather well.

We went to Tivoli today and it is every bit as magical as I'd hoped. Tivoli Gardens is "a famous amusement park and pleasure garden in Copenhagen, Denmark. The park opened on August 15, 1843 and, except for Dyrehavsbakken in nearby Klampenborg, it is the oldest amusement park which has survived intact to the present day." (thanks, wikipedia!) It's mostly a tourist attraction, but who doesn't want to go to an amusement park in the middle of a city?

Well, you have not seen Copenhagen until you have seen it from Himmelakibet (which I did... twice, per Jonathan's request). It's a huge spinning swing ride that gives you a great view of the entire city. You have to remove your glasses, jewelry and shoes before riding, which freaked me the hell out, but it was a thrilling ride. Jonathan and I had a blast.



In addition to the rides, gardens, games, and cafes, Tivoli is also a cultural hub, featuring free performances from artists as varied as Mary J. Blige to the Danish ballet. Queen Margarethe even designed the costumes and sets for a show currently running! There is also a combination symphony hall/aquarium, which is pretty darn cool.



I took zillions of pictures today, all of which will be posted on facebook (mom, I'll e-mail them to you). It was a great day, lots of fun family bonding, and I'm positively zonked, but I'll leave you with this snaphot that perfectly captures my feeling of today and the rest of my first week in Denmark:

Good Day Sunshine

I woke up bright and early Saturday morning (much to my chagrin, having gone to bed at 3AM the night before). After writing Ryan and Toke a brief thank-you note on a pizza box, I slipped out into the sunny Copenhagen morning. It was only 9AM and I had some time to kill before I was due to meet Courtney for a tour of trendy cafes and shops in Vesterpørt at 11, so I grabbed a romsnaegle at the closest Netto (how Danish of me!) and hit the streets.

What I found: several outdoor flea markets, cute boutiques on the Strøget, men drinking beer at 10 AM on a public street, and omg Topshop. Had Tracy been with me, I would've needed a defibrillator to be still her little hipster heart. During the tour, we discovered the trendy Copenhagen meat-packing district, cozy cafes and gauche bars, and smoothie places that give Jamby's a run for their money.

Then I headed back to Dragør for some quality time with the host fam. We decided to ride bikes to the town center to get ice cream and enjoy the sunny weather. Anyway, you know that aphorism about "riding a bike - once you've learned, you never forget"? Yeah... it ain't true. I made a complete ass of myself. No, I'm not being oversensitive, they were actually laughing at me. I mean, I did look ridiculous, so it's all good. We walked instead. I'll try again tomorrow.



Now, I am an ice cream aficionado, a connoisseur of the cold and creamy, if you will, but I have never had a frozen dessert like this: First of all, ice cream in Denmark comes in not one, not two, but three - count 'em - three levels, served in a big waffle cone. First, the ice cream itself. Its the regular hard stuff and they give you a decent portion. It would be satisfying enough until you get to the layer of vanilla soft-serve. Its a little overly creamy, more the consistency of a McFlurry, but still delicious and still a sizable amount. Then comes the topping: an avalanche of pink marshmallow goo that covers the entire cone, Did I mention that they put a whole flodorbolle on top? 'Cause they do.
Oh yeah, and that was the "mini" size. I maybe ate 15% of it.


Dragør overlooks the Kattegat and on a clear day like today, you can see Sweden. So we climbed up an old army fort to get a better view.


We looked at the horses and elephants from a traveling circus,


ambled among the 600 year-old houses,


witnessed a human foosball game,


and watched Jonathan and Tobias do tricks on their scooters.


The only word to describe the feel of the afternoon is "lovely." The town, the sights, company... lovely, lovely, lovely!



We walked home along the water and Trine and Jacob told me all about the Danish political system and its lack of corruption. They think the political honesty in Denmark is due to the politicians' proximity to the people and the egalitarian nature of Danish society. I think the small size of Denmark also has something to do with it. They said one of the biggest problems for the state is the black market for workers who get paid under the table - and are exempt from the taxes that claim upwards of 60% of your income. I forget details of the conversation, but I was pleased to finally feel comfortable enough with my host family to engage in political debate.

While Jacob grilled dinner (beef, lamb, potatoes, grilled corn-on-the-cob, salad, bread), I tossed around a Nerf football with the boys in the backyard. Dinner was perfect, served by candlelight with terrific Italian red wine. Jacob and Jonathan made pandekagen (Danish crepes) for dessert while Trine and I discussed how learning disabilities are addressed in public schools in the US vs. Denmark. We were done with the meal around 10 PM. It was the definition of hygge.

Decided to skip the club scene for tonight. I need energy to go to Tivoli with my new family tomorrow!

Get out the map, get out the map and lay your finger anywhere down

Wander
(verb)
1. To move about without a definite destination or purpose.
2. To go by an indirect route or at no set pace; amble: wander toward town.
3. To proceed in an irregular course; meander.
4. To go astray: wander from the path of righteousness.
5. To lose clarity or coherence of thought or expression.
(source: thefreedictionary.com)

I didn't come into DIS with many expecations about the program (this attitude, according to one of the interns' welcome speeches, is the desired state of mind.); however, what I did expect was to fulfill thefreedictionary.com's first three definitions of the verb "to wander," while never approaching #4 or #5.

Today, after 3 days of forced and awkward orientation, I began my wandering adventure.

I met up with three kids from my Danish class for a little exploring after the day's scheduled activities. John, Madeline and I had earlier explored the Strøget (the Newbury Street of Copenhagen), finding myriad overpriced clothing stores, ice cream shops and bars... and one "Erotica Museum." Meanwhile, Walter had discovered a stairwell in the middle of a street somewhere that apparently led to nowhere. We wanted to find this mysterious, enchanted staircase, too, so off we went.


Our initial goal was quickly forgotten when we came to a square off of Vestergade and noticed a group of Danes running around a giant inflatable can of Tuborg. One at a time, they ran backward around the can 3 times, then they would get hoisted by the remaining members of the group and drop a ring onto a peg, like at a carnival. We stood in the middle of the square and watched them. This was much more entertaining than 'The Mystery of the Hidden Staircase' (which turned out to be a public bathroom, by the way). After the group finished their task, they celebrating by toasting their success with real bottles of beer. Then they turned to us and waved. We went over to say hi, and it turns out that they are students at Copenhagen Business School and this was a teamp-building task for their orientation. After chatting for a bit, we continued on our merry way.

Allowing ourselves one tourist moment for the afternoon, Walter broke out his map. We selected a street at (almost) random: Vesterbrogade. And we were off.

When we reached Rådhuspladsen, Madeline broke into hysterics and Walter blushed. I asked John what was up. "That man's shorts are really small." Sure enough, at a pølsen (sausage) cart, there was an old man wearing a pair of Denim cutoffs that were more the size of a wide belt. It was obscene. I was in shock. "I love this city," I thought, as we crossed the street.
(it was worse than this! much, much worse.)

We walked for about 45 minutes, taking the scenic route. Along the way, we found a block with an awful lot of tatoo parlors. The tatoo parlors then came to intermingle with bars, then sex shops, then a stripper/go-go dancer emporium. Inexplicably, there also were a lot of classy-looking Indian restaurants sprinkled in for good measure. Turns out, we were in the former red-light district of Copenhagen. Super.

It was raining, a steady mist and the city looked beautiful and old. We were all walking together, but the group was quiet, each lost in our thoughts on our new home.

And we kept walking. Past the neighborhood of Muslim immigrants, with the smell of schwarma in the air, Arabic writing on the signs, halal meat in the windows. Past trendy cafes and hair salons. Past the "blue video store," which advertised "bondage and spanking" and was conveniently located next to the "my little pony" shop. Then someone realized we were walking in the wrong direction, and probably had been for the past 20 minutes. It started to rain harder, but we continued, not wanting to wimp out and take the 6A back to Nørreport Station.

We finally made it back to the metro, and each headed back to hir respected host families. I was damp from the rain, but smiled the whole train ride home. Copenhagen is beginning to feel like it can be mine. I can't wait to wander again tomorrow.