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...

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 saw dead people

I've been a little sick and sniffly for the past few days, so please excuse my lack of updates.

Today was our first field study for Danish Language and Culture class. We went to the Assistens Cemetary in Copenhagen to visit the graves of Hans Christen Andersen, Søren Kierkegaard, Niels Bohr, et al. Abby and I did a small presentation on Peter von Scholten, who freed the slaves in Denmark's West Indian colonies in 1848. Von Scholten's grave is in a huge tomb that looks like the facade of a cute little house.


Afterwards, Morten (our Danish teacher) showed us some different parts of Nørrebro. We learned about the controversy surrounding the Danish government's closing the Undomshust ("Youth House") in 2007. Basically, the Undomshust was a center of youth culture, music, anarchy and general hippie goodness for about 20 years. After a long battle, the property at Jagtevej 69 was sold. There are occasional riots and lots of graffiti that says "69," in honor of the memory of Undomshust (including on H.C. Andersen's grave). I'd recommend reading the wikipedia article - its really interesting and indicative of the current Danish social-political climate.

After the trek, Morten took a few of us to a cafe in Sank Hans Square. Only in Denmark can you go to a restaurant called "Pussy Galore's" with your professor.

In other news, I start my psych practicum tomorrow. I'm working at vuggestue in Urbanplanen (the projects in København S) for toddlers from immigrant and low-income families. I'm stoked because it has its own petting zoo. The only downside is that, due to child protection laws, I am not allowed to blog about my experiences. Guess you'll just have to wait until I return Stateside for stories about the young'uns.

****

Quotes of the day:
"Have you noticed that it even smells different in Demark? I keep smelling weird things. Copehagen smells like... like... Copenhagen smells like Kool-Aid." (Abby)

"The best musicians of their generation tend to die at age 27? Shit, Lil' Bow Wow doesn't have much time left!" (Seth)