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...

Go West, Young Woman! (Skanderborg)

We got to sleep in until 7:30AM! Yee-haw!

Don't get me wrong, I am very proud to be an American. I like my freedom and my Hollywood movies and my capitalism (though not at this precise moment). But the rest of the world has us beat on one count:

Breakfast Food.

I'm sorry, but cold cereal and Pop Tarts will always pale in comparison to fresh bakery bread, gooey preserves, and wonderful cheese cut with this wire swivel contraption that I still haven't quite gotten the hang of. Also, Danish yogurt is one of the strangest and most delicious things I've had here. Its more like thick milk than typical yogurt per se and comes in a cardboard milk carton. Musli has never tasted better... and I thought it was pretty tasty at home!

But I digress...
Our next visit was to Nymarkskolen, a public primary school that follows the Howard Gardner philosophy of multiple intelligences. It was pretty cool, mostly because I have never seen a public school with an "Arabian Nights"-themed reading room, complete with pillows and crimson fabric and a giant bamboo swing.

Then we went to Koldinghus Castle, which had mostly burned down in the Middle Ages. Legend has it that the princess who lived there fell in love with a commoner. When her father the king saw them together, he killed her lover on the spot. Soon after, he threw a lavish ball and invited three potential suitors for his daughter. The princess was commanded to dance with them until she made a decision. She danced and danced and danced, and finally dropped dead from her broken heart... and exhaustion. According to our guide, this incident prompted a new law in the Kingdom of Denmark, "no dancing when you are dying." All of us tourists really enjoyed that little factoid, which has to be the strangest law any of us has ever heard.

After Koldinghus, we arrived in our hostel in Skanderborg. After dinner, we made a giant bonfire and toasted marshmallows and made these hot dogs/hot dog bun things that were insanely tasty. Mostly, it was chill group bonding and trying not to get too much ash in our eyes. Around midnight, we decided to jump into the Skanderborg lake. It was FREEZING, so we only stayed in the water for a few minutes, but you're only young once, right? And how can you pass up the opportunity to start a story with, "so I jumped into a freezing lake in Scandanavia at midnight when..."

Silly pictures and campfire songs ensued. We did everything from "No Diggity" to "Jeremiah was a Bullfrog." It was really dorky, but everyone had a great time. Of course, the real adventure was the next day:
LEGOLAND

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.