Delirium

I would like to let you know a blog entry is soon to come... but currently I am in a state of complete delirium, exhaustion, and I really should shower for everyone's sake, so instead of blogging tonight I will be sleeping and bathing. I'm getting too comfortable with this blog thing, my apologies.

Oh, but I do have one short story I feel inclined to tell for purely self-sacrificing purposes...

Wednesday morning I wake up early and head off to the fitness center I joined (the most posh fitness center I have ever seen, Danish designer chandelier, juice bar, ridiculous). I decided I was going to try the High Puls class which can best be described as a mix between bootcamp and turbo kickboxing. I arrive only to find six Danish women who can be described as nothing short of beasts. Now I use the term 'beast' often enough that you may not really understand the magnitude to which these women embodied beastliness- but trust me, these women can kick some ass. So I get all of the equipment and am relieved to see this pregnant woman, probably eight months along walk in, thinking maybe we're on the same level. We start the class with these combination turbo kickboxing moves that involve kicking your leg while simultaneously crunching your abs and pulling your arms in and moving from right side kick, to center, to left side kick. Then we do it at twice the tempo. Well turns out I am far more uncoordinated than I thought, I'm about five times worse at kickboxing than at dancing. Take a moment and let that sink in. Worse than dancing. Five times worse. So just imagine... Here are seven Danish women kickboxing just like the Bally Fitness commercials and then there's me... My leg is kicking to the left while my arm is flailing to the right and I'm crunching my abs to the center and my body is so contorted I look like some disabled teenage mutant ninja turtle. After a bit of watching this torturous attempt the teacher then comes over to try to help and after two tries she shakes her head, laughs, and walks away.

This embarrassment continues for a bit until we start to incorporate punching into the set and I find a way to make even more of a fool out of myself. Turns out I can't punch either. All I could think was, 'It's a really good thing I just slapped that guy in the bar because punching him would have been far, far worse, assuming I was even coordinated enough to hit him.'

I somehow made it through the class and scrounged up enough dignity to thank the teacher and then go run and hide for the next few hours. But it did inspire this list...

Things I learned from High Puls Class:

1. Danes are beasts, don't mess with them.

2. Pregnant Danes are even beastlier

3. Danes like to be naked in the locker room

4. They like to have long, intimate conversations with you in the locker room while naked.

5. I do not feel comfortable with naked conversations in locker rooms.

6. I feel even more uncomfortable after realizing my coordination is equal to that of a five year old.

7. I should never punch anyone, for my own sake

8. If you ever come to Denmark... never, never take a High Puls class.

And the travel adventures are in full swing

So I intended upon updating you on the rest of my week as my short blog entry was quickly turning into a short novel and increasing in vulgarity, but I never seemed to get around to it and now I don't even remember my week. So sorry to disappoint all of you hanging on to my every moment, but we're going to have to accept my state of temporary amnesia and skips a few days.

Let start Wednesday...

Wednesday night I cooked a delicious meal for my host family in honor of my birthday. Potato, kale, and leek soup (amazing), bruchetta, and mango cranberry salad followed by my favorite childhood dessert, dirt cups. Unfortunately, the Danes aren't as sophisticated as us Americans and I had to settle for chocolate mousse instead of pudding, dark chocolate cookies instead of oreos, and I just skipped the worms for the sake of my own embarrassment when I tried to poignantly explain why I had just placed gummies shaped like bugs in their chocolate mousse.

Thursday I was off at six in the morning for my study tour to Western Denmark. We drove two hours to Jelling (pronounced Yelling) to stand and look at the two Jelling rocks, Viking historical landmarks in the beautiful Jelling, population 200. One of these great landmarks was hidden in a wooden box for fear that it is "loosing its structural integrity" and the other was an equally exciting rock covered in snow. We then went to an old inn and from there headed off to Ebeltoft. Ebeltoft is renowned for their beautiful beaches, their lively summer cottages, and their wonderful festivities... in the summer. In the winter they are renowned for grey skies, bleak, flat landscapes, and the epitome of stark direness. That's harsh, but true.

We hung out at this folkhjskole which is a kind of a commune of sorts in which students come to take time to study philosophy and the humanities, this particular one focused on film. An although this school is focused on free expression, breaking out of the mold of ordinary life, and exploring the existential questions of life through film, the movie they happened to be showing the night we were there was none other than "Twilight: New Moon". So on my birthday I was forced to watch one of the most painfully horrible films in the history of my twenty years in a school dedicated to preserving the sanctity of film.

From there we went to Odense and visited a museum on modern art and mass media called Brandts and then visited TV2 the largest media group in Denmark. We met the "Anderson Cooper" of Denmark, Johannes the host of News at 7 and were off again to Kolding. We arrived at our hostel and were promptly provided with beer, courtesy of our school (gotta love Europe), and had a lovely, drunken dinner. From there we went out to each of the three bars located in Kolding, only to find that everywhere we went there were either other American students from our school (there were 100 of us in a town with a population of 500, or so it seemed) or middle aged men playing ballads from the jukebox. We ended the night with pizza slices the size of my upper body, literally, and found our way back to the hostel with the help of some seriously inebriated Finish boys who only could say, "America... it's good. McDonalds and Desperate Housewives. That's good, real good. Cheers to America!"

The next day we went to this incredible art museum called Trapholt and saw this incredible artist (check him out at http://www.petercallesen.com/) who makes art out of single sheet of white paper which are beyond incredible. Oh and there was an exhibit on Danish chairs, too. Lots and lots of chairs, none of which you could sit in.

Needless to say the trip was awesome, although gave us all a rather bleak view of the Danish country-side. There was some bonding among communication students (it was a trip designed for each "core class", mine was communication and there were 36 of us) and some breeding of severe dislike as well. Most of my group was great, but I did manage to find three girls who epitomized everything you should hate about the picturesque sorority girls because they were it. They complained about not having their Blackberries, God forbid, and how they were going into withdrawals from not being able to check Facebook whenever they wanted. And they chatted about how they hate the water in ketchup and proceeded to ask the waiter for "less watery ketchup" and "new fries because the ketchup water touched them". Needless to say, it's been good. As we speak I am planning my trip to Berlin, Prague, Greece, Crete, and maybe Istanbul in March and then some weekend trips to France, Budapest, Amsterdam and getting my visa for Ghana! Oh man, this is heaven.

Oh man... What a Week.

Let me start by saying that people watching here is fantastic! Today I sat on the bus on my way home and watched a woman, probably eighty, ride her hot pink bike next to her friend, also eighty, while she scootered along the road. Yes, rode her Razor scooter. You can't beat that.

The weather here has been ridiculous. We are currently in a blizzard, a full-blown blizzard and chaos is ensuing. It snows here about as much as it does in Seattle, and they handle equally as well as Seattle did. The trains are delayed, cancelled, the busses are fishtailing and sliding, not driving, around. Today I got on the train (a ten car train) by squeezing between two people right in the corner where the doors close. There was not a inch to move from one end of this train to the other. Chaos. I love the snow, I must admit. It is so so beautiful but I like it far less when I spent hours each day standing in blustery winds and blowing snow.

Last Friday I spent the evening with some Danes, we watched X-Factor (American Idol pretty much, except in Danish) which turns out is worse than American Idol, mostly because the only thing I understood were the bad lyrics of the American pop songs they were singing and I wasn't able to tell who moved on because they cried if they lost, they cried if they won, they cried before they performed, they cried after. This led to into a state of complete disarray, resulting in my strong dislike of X-Factor. But besides that it was quite fun I must admit. Good beer, even the cheapest.

Saturday I went to my host mom, Lotte's, brother's farm. Her two brothers, their families, her mom and dad were all there for a nice gathering. The farm country is beautiful. Lots of pigs. More pigs than people. In fact, five times more pigs than people (yes Stephanie, your dream come true...) This gathering was quite extraordinary actually... we arrived and were served beer from the local brewery and Danish candy (quite good). Then we sat down for sweet rolls and butter, followed by more beer and Danish cake (which is white cake filled with berried and topped with heavy cream). After that they brought out chocolate... chocolate mints, chocolate nuts, chocolate chocolate, hot chocolate. Lots of chocolate. That was our appetizer... a child's dream. After that we ate rice, vegetables, bread, stew, a full blown meal. So, at that point, I thought we were done. No. Wrong. It's then time for more chocolate. Then gelato. Then tea. Then beer. And then... you're done. Finally done. You're on a sugar high coupled with a state of complete lethargy, but done. It was actually really fun! We played cards, watched a movie, talked about politics, had a snowball fight, watched the sunset and, of course, ate.

Saturday night, though, was not so wonderful. As a forewarning: This content is not suitable for children or those weak and feeble souls.

So Saturday nights I went to this bar in Copenhagen, known for being fantastic. They have live DJ's and play great music. We arrived and the music was great, reggae techno, and it was pretty slow, not too many, although it started to pick up. After a while my friends and I go to dance (which is quite difficult because the beat keeps changing, like I can hear a beat, and the Danes do this convulsion type dancing where they move their shoulder in quick, seemingly irregular ways, leaving the hips to just follow). Needless to say I looked more ridiculous than usual, convulsing off-beat, trying to continually adjust to the changing rythms but failing miserably. After a while the dance floor gets crowded and this guys ends up in front of me. Unfortunately he keeps slamming into me and elbowing me so I start pushing him off me. After a couple times he turns around, looks me in the eye, and backhands me in the face. I stood there stunned... then slapped him back. Then a screaming match ensued in which he yelled in Danish and the occasional English 'Fuck you' and I just repeatedly said 'Fuck you. What the fuck?' because I was so shocked, disoriented, and had no idea what the man was saying that the only thing I could muster was a 'Fuck you' (surprisingly, I know).

Needless to say...no more of that bar for me.

This is too long already but I'll update soon. The fun continues...

Hej Hej!

I would like to add to the list of things I've learned since being in Copenhagen:

1. Biking in a blizzard is less than desirable.

2. Biking in a blizzard and coming home to find your road is blocked is even less desirable.

3. Standing in the blizzard with your bike one hundred feet from your house and waiting for the giant truck to unblock your road for twenty minutes in the wind and snow just plain sucks.

4. It is easy to compare people's treatment of their bikes with their treatment of their babies. Someone will get on the bus with their stroller, park the stroller (and child) at the front of the bus, and go sit in the back, reading and chatting, leaving the baby sitting there by itself. Someone will also go into a cafe to get lunch with a friend and park their baby outside, lock it up, and leave it. Much like a bike. The biggest (and best) difference is that bikes get stolen far more than babies.

5. The sun does come out.

6. If you jay walk, people will hit you. Hard.

7. I think I will be falling in love with handball.

8. There are politically conservative Danes that are opposed to taxes and like Bush a lot ( I met one and engaged in a relatively long debate ending repeatedly with me asking "Why do you live in Denmark then?", "How can you like Bush?", and "Are you delusional?")

Next week I start tutoring kids at this international school in Hellerup. I interviewed for the position yesterday and will be tutoring a 2nd grader in math, a 4th grader in general subjects, and a 7th grader in organization. Most of the kids that attend this school are children of diplomats, business men and women, and international families that move from one place to another frequently. It is an interesting dynamic and I am excited! I am also going to a seminar on Climate Change tonight with the Ministry of Finance for the EU to talk about what happened during the COP15.

I found out about my two classes at the University of Copenhagen last. Both my class on the "Social Context of HIV/AIDS in Africa" and "Human Rights in Africa" have one single grade.. a final exam. That's going to take some adjustment... I'm excited to actually meet some Danes though and experience the Danish education system though.

Well I am off to get my green card!

Hej Hej!

First Week

I have successfully survived the first week of being abroad (although I did not expect anything else given I was actually going to a more developed and stable country). I am living with the Braagaard family; Mathilde (13 year old girl), Mathais (15 year old boy) and Lotte and Carsten (mom and dad). Lotte and Carsten and nice beyond words and extremely helpful (which is good for me given that I tend to get lost in foreign countries and take the wrong bus home finding myself 10km from home, at night, in a blizzard, completely disoriented). Mathias is chatty and quite funny, whereas Mathilde is shy, but equally as funny when she opens up a bit.

The house is literally the epitome of an IKEA showroom (but... I mistakenly mentioned that which turns out is quite offensive to Danes who find IKEA cheap. They informed me most of the house was Danish designer's work, except my room which was IKEA).

I have to take the train to school everyday because I live twenty minutes north of Copenhagen. I take the bus to the station (about ten minutes away) or bike, and then take the train for twenty minutes into Copenhagen. I am in love with trains. Something I have noticed on the trains- Danish people don't do small talk. They just don't understand why you would sit there and have a meaningless conversation with someone you will never see again. Valid point. Danish people also don't apologize when they run into you, or knock you- there is no point in saying "sorry" or "excuse me" over and over again if those type things happen naturally in everyday life, no need to apologize. Another valid point.

I started some of my classes yesterday (the rest I don't start until February). My "Current Trends in News Media" class should be alright, mostly information I have already learned in other communication classes and a focus on news production which I am rather uninterested in. My "Biomedical Ethics" class looks awesome, and my "Political Rhetoric" class should be tough given I have to write five 10-page paper in five weeks time. Yeah, I know.

This turning into a short novel....

Something else I have learned- when people speak to me with accents I have this inexplicable tendency to make up an accent (example: my accent in Ghana). And I have done that yet again. I sound like I am a British woman with a speech impediment. That would be the best way I can describe it.

Finally...

I would like to thank my five followers. I now feel like less of a freak.

Miss you all!

XOXOX

Fun fact: There are no homeless in Denmark, the government gives all people housing and jobs if they want them. There are a select number who refuse government help and voluntarily choose to live on the street, they are the homeless of Denmark. These homeless people can be found drinking lattes (which cost about $7 here), wearing NorthFace (I can't even afford NorthFace), and wearing Tim's (which run about $100 here). Gotta love socialism.

Velkommen to Denmark

I have arrived in Copenhagen only to find out it is not Copenhagen but Kobenhavn, two words that sound nothing alike and thereby cause confusion to disoriented Americans. I also found out that I can successfully butcher the pronunciation of every Danish word known to man. Here is an additional list of things that I have learned in my first twenty-four hours in Denmark:

1. Not sleeping the night before you leave on a twelve hour journey to a country eight time zones away doesn't help you adjust, it just make you tired.

2. Rushing to buy a ferry ticket to some nearby country in proof that you will in fact be leaving Denmark is entirely unnecessary although it will provide for a fun adventure come May 21st.

3. Danes like IKEA.

4. Not all Danes like to drink, or are liberal, or take shots in the morning (aka my host family).

5. The Danish public transportation system is amazing.

6. It is true that everyone bikes, even in the snow.

7. It is also true that it is cold, dark, and grey (even when compared to Seattle).

8. Everyone wears boots. Men, women, children, dogs.

I am sure there is more that I learned in these last twenty-four hours that I am forgetting due mainly to memory number one, but I am too tired and will update you with my findings as the days go on....

Hej Hej.

And the adventure begins (almost)...

Today it all set in, I leave in a little over a week and everything is set. My host family is wonderful... A mother and father, both younger, who are avid marathon runners and love to travel. They have a 15 year old son and 13 year old daughter. They spend their winters skiing the alps and travelling Denmark and their summers on the Italian coasts or gallivanting Europe. So today I ran and extra mile or two because I accidently mentioned that I love to run in the letter I wrote to them and "loving to run" is very different for people who run three marathons a year and for people like me. I don't love to run 26.2 miles, I don't even love to run 6.2 miles, I don't even know if I could run 6.2 miles even if I loved it. Nevertheless, I am excited. Very, very excited. And so my packing adventure begins... and in t minus 8 days my real adventure begins...