A Week in Denmark
Dear Constant Readers,
Sometimes when I start writing an entry in my blog, I look over the week and am not exactly sure what to say. This time it is easier, because last week, from Wednesday until Wednesday, I visited a friend of mine in Denmark. As I've written about before, I was afraid to buy plane tickets, mostly because it simply is something I'd never done before and in my mind buying them, getting to the airport, and making the connecting flight and so forth seemed all so complicated that something was bound to go wrong.
But one can't live in fear, and besides, if I ever plan on getting home, I'm going to have to arrange this again, or something very similar to it at least.
Things mostly went off with out a hitch. I missed the first bus to the airport, because despite the fact I had looked at the schedule a few times as well as pulled it up on the internet to look read it from the comforts of my teeny little room here, I still managed to misread it. In my mind it made a lot of sense, but as usually happens when I look at things that involves lots of numbers, I was way off the mark. But I had arranged so that I'd be at the airport plenty early, and made it without further incident. It turns out that both my plane from Frankfurt Hahn and also the plane out of Stansted (near London) were both an hour delayed, so I pretty much made up for the time I had fumbled.
I arrived in Aarhus Airport, Denmark around 10.00 PM (or was it 11.00? I was tired) and met my friend Maria, who I'd met while she studied at my university, and her boyfriend, Frithjof. They picked me up and drove me to Aalborg, where they lived. Even though it was dark, my impression of Denmark was very much like that of home, from the way the land looked. Some of the towns reminded me very much of the small little places in eastern Colorado my family drives through to get to my grandparents' homes. Denmark, from what I saw, is a very flat land, and so is where I'm from (at least until you run Cross Country or ride bikes across it, and then suddenly you find all the hills).
Some of the stand-out memories from it where going out with Maria and her friends because of a birthday one of them had. There was a guy from Australia there as well, so for the benefit of him and me, the group spoke mostly English, all of them very good at it. My experience with Scandinavians, and I have no doubt that most people who have encountered them would agree, is that for non-native English speakers, they speak some of the best English when compared with many other countries. I realize that is a generalization, and that it really depends on the individual, but in some of the countries I've visited, and with some of the people I've spoken with from several places, Scandinavians (Danish, Norwegian, and Sweden) seem to have the most confidence with it. I'm probably making a statement that someone might not like, but I'm just speaking from personal experience. Finland as well, as it is also on the peninsula, although Finnish is not a Scandinavian (and, by default, Germanic, the same as English) language, in fact it is not even an Indo-European language. Therefore, speaking English for them is perhaps all the more "difficult".
In any case, the reason why I'm saying all this is because they were all proficient in English for benefit of this Australian guy and myself. I don't really like speaking English when with a group of people from a non-English speaking country, I felt a bit guilty, like they were having to go out of there way for me, but I really didn't have much of a choice. But they didn't seem to mind. The Danish language is much easier than German for me, even though I have never really formally studied it. However, by the end of the week, I had already started to pick up basic things from sentences, on a very few occasions enough to not really need a translation. Lest this sounds like a boast, though, let me first clarify: Two summers ago I taught myself a fair amount of Norwegian; not enough to speak fluently, but enough to get through reading it to get an basic idea of what was being said. My knowledge was more passive than active, as is usually the case with language study, I think, but it was there. In the two years since I worked through my course book, though, a lot of it has fallen into disuse. But. Norwegian and Danish are very similar written languages which share a history to the point that it can be difficult to tell the languages apart. Honestly, I think they look more like dialects of one another, probably to the horror of Danish and Norwegian speakers. The spoken forms, however, are a bit more different, also rather similar, but with just enough differences to actually stand alone as different languages. Still, they are indeed rather close. And with the exposure of Danish from Maria, Frithjof, her friends, and written Danish in general Norwegian words that I had forgotten I'd learned came back to me with very little difficulty. When I tried to speak Danish, my pronunciation was kind of bad, and I had a natural inclination to use the musical qualities in Norwegian, but it was a start, and lit the fire in me to want to relearn my Norwegian all the more, and then move on to Danish hopefully soon afterward.
Maria, two friends of hers, and I also went to the zoo, which was more fun that I thought it would be. I used to not really care too much about animals, I was just indifferent to them, but ever since I got done with high school and got to college I've been trying to improve some things about myself, just be in more harmony with things. I don't mean to sound hokey or anything like that, I just mean it in a practical way, to appreciate the world around me, including its animals, a little more. It's kind of an interesting experience for me, to see the world from this angle. It means one has to be a little more observant and a bit less selfish, something that can be challenging.
As it was still cool outside (but a nice sunny day, considering typical grey Danish early-spring weather) some of the animals were indoors napping rather than outdoors roaming their simulated plains or hanging in their trees. At the indoor African exhibit, I saw some animals down below a bit in a pen which looked like deer, or gazelle, or something, I'm not sure what exactly they were. There were about eight of them, and I got the attention of two of them when they saw I had my camera ready. I didn't really do anything, they just stopped and looked at me, so I took a few pictures. Then I turned around to the girls, who were talking to each other, and said the animals were looking at me. They got up and went to the edge of the pen and looked a little shocked. I turned around and saw that every single one of the deer had dropped what it was doing and was standing stock-still, looking straight at me. It was a bit unnerving, and unfortunately I didn't have a wide enough lens to get it all into one shot, but I enjoyed the chance to see this.
The next day Maria, Fridtjof, and I all went to Skagen (pronounced "Skayn", apparently known as "The Skaw" according to Wikipedia, I see just now) in Northern Denmark. Skagen is unique for a few things. For one, nearly all of the buildings in this little coastal town have red-tile roofs and are painted a specific shade of yellow...so specific in fact that it is called "Skagen Gul" (Skagen Yellow). It also has the reputation of having very good lighting, and therefore attracted many artists at one time. Whether this is true or not, I don't know, but I did see the grave of an artist who was buried on the beach, as well as a house that had once belonged to an married artist couple, which I thought was kind of amusing and cool as it was red, in stark contrast to the yellow buildings around it.
But the most fascinating thing about Skagen, I thought, was the fact that it is the only place in the known world where it is possible to see waves crashing coming in from two separate directions and crashing into one another, creating a frothy, stormy look that was enhanced by that day's gloomy weather. This happens because the waters from Albaek Bay and Tannis Bay meet at the shifting sandy point in such a way that it creates something which makes the water do that. From that last sentence I hope it is crystal clear I studied almost no geography.
But seeing waves hit each, something I'd wondered as a little kid if it was possible and where, made me reflect upon something else. Somehow, I ended up standing on the northern most tip of Denmark, in really almost the middle of now where, and I even saw a real live, wild sea lion flop his little way into the sea and away from me where I could barely get a picture of it, made me realize that in 21 years, I haven't done too bad for a kid from the Nebraska/Colorado border. All my life I've wanted some kind of adventure, and I have Indiana Jones to thank for that, if you want the Right-Hand-of-God truth. I've read stories about travelers, and if I had a time machine, I would like to use it to travel around with Marco Polo or Lewis and Clarke, or someone of that sort. I may have written about my romantic ideas about traveling and adventure before, so I apologize if I'm repeating anything. But one of the lessons I've learned from traveling is that it is not romantic, and at times it can be kind of boring. People seldom tell the stories where you sit around wondering what to do next, because it isn't all that exciting. But this is a what happens in life sometimes, and I am not complaining about it.
Sometimes I don't know how to see the world. I look at it and observe it, and although it is really unique, sometimes it all looks very similar. Does this mean I'm looking at it only superficially, or because I'm looking at it in depth and seeing the similarities, the way people say "deep down we're all the same"? Like I know I've said before, the real rewards from traveling/meeting people are the more subtle ones than the obvious ones. Under all the clothes, tattoos, piercings, languages, cultural quirks, senses of humor, and the list goes on, there are humans with human hearts and human concerns. Maybe it's not even under all this, maybe all these details point to this fact. Even in a tiny country in Northern Europe, where standards of living are high, it is still possible to be lonely, or to find a job, for example. But there's the positive side too, to get a kick out of seeing animals do goofy things at the zoo liking seeing a monkey cover itself up with a blanket, or to meet a total stranger and find that it is very easy to suddenly tell jokes with them.
Maybe people ask themselves then, "If everyone is so similar, why bother even leaving home?" And to them I'd say that it's fine. Some people have all they need right there. But with such a large garden, why not go see what's growing in it? Why not leave behind everything you know for a bit? Because often times people travel wanting to learn something new about the world, and instead, as corny as it may sound, they end up learning something new about them. I've learned a few things already about myself. Some of it is good, like I learned I can cook, and I learned that it is possible to burn vegetables even if you do put water in there to just steam them, and I've also learned some things about myself that I'm not so proud of, but this is equally useful information to help one learn who one really is, where the cracks are, and where the strengths are. While no one can be perfect, I think a knowledge of shortcomings is helpful when trying to mature.
I'm getting way off the subject of Denmark here. I still have to talk about my trip to Copenhagen, Denmark's capital city. Maria and I went and visited the city on a day trip the day after we were at "the Skaw". I really wanted to see the Little Mermaid statue, basically because it was the only thing in Copenhagen (and besides Legoland, in almost the whole of Denmark) that I really knew about. For those of you who don't know, "The Little Mermaid" was written by the Danish author Hans Christian Andersen, known by the locals as just H.C. Andersen, and it is rather grimmer than the Disney version that's perhaps more famous. The statue itself, situated just on a rock just on the water, has seen its fair share of violence, as well: On occasion hooligans have been so impressed by the statue, that they lop her copper head off. After around three times (I guess, I don't really know) they finally reinforced her most recent replacement head with steel. And indeed the repair job is so good that to the untrained eye, a hint of vandalism isn't really apparent. But Maria and I both agreed that, criminal though it may be, learning that your grandfather as a youth did this, and that your family has the original mermaid head would be kind of cool. Hypothetical of course, but just imagine. Or be ashamed, I guess. The choice is yours.
The grey weather dissipated while we were visiting Copenhagen and we were blessed with a warm, cloudless day in which to see the rest of the city. I asked Maria if she considered me a tourist visiting her, and she said that defining what a tourist is really difficult. But on the way to see a large library, we ended up getting lost and in fact cluelessly walking in the opposite direction, so I guess we really were tourists.
My last real day in Denmark was just a chill out day. Maria and I went to the park to see the birds at the pond and to buy candy, because that evening we stayed indoors watching "The Bourne Supremacy" and playing "Burn Out 2". I didn't really feel like doing anything major, since I had to be up at 5 the next morning to catch my plane. I said my good byes to Frithjof, who I was quite happy to see throughout the week we got along fine thanks to our similar screwy senses of humor, and then I spent a restless night in bed; before traveling or something major, like an early class, I tend to sleep very poorly.
Maria accompanied me to Aarhus were I caught the bus to the airport. The traveling from Denmark to London and then onto Germany went off without any real incidents, but it was a lot of tiresome waiting, something that can make traveling dull. But it can also be fun, since while waiting for the bus, I shared a table at a cafe in the airport with some Germans who were very impressed by my German. It made me feel good, of course, and native speakers are the best judges, but like I said in my last post, I have so far yet to go before I personally feel comfortable in my German. Nevertheless, little bits of encouragement such as this are always most welcome.
I got back to Trier around 10.00 PM (or maybe closer to 11.00...detecting a pattern yet?) and ran into some people from my hall. I actually had been a little homesick for Germany while away. I missed the people I've begun to form more solid relationships with, and apparently the weather was beautiful the entire time I was gone. But naturally I'm happy about my trip to Denmark and to see my friend Maria again. I'm always glad to be back in Germany, which somehow is starting to feel a bit like a home to me, and I need a rest now, because even a week can exert a person a bit, but I'm sure in time I'll be ready to pick up my backpack again and trusty satchel again.
I think this is a good place to finish my entry.
I hope all is well, and thank you Maria and Frithjof for your hospitality. Say hello to our companions to the zoo and the Harry Potter movie for me, Maria! :-)
Sincerely,
Tristan
Sometimes when I start writing an entry in my blog, I look over the week and am not exactly sure what to say. This time it is easier, because last week, from Wednesday until Wednesday, I visited a friend of mine in Denmark. As I've written about before, I was afraid to buy plane tickets, mostly because it simply is something I'd never done before and in my mind buying them, getting to the airport, and making the connecting flight and so forth seemed all so complicated that something was bound to go wrong.
But one can't live in fear, and besides, if I ever plan on getting home, I'm going to have to arrange this again, or something very similar to it at least.
Things mostly went off with out a hitch. I missed the first bus to the airport, because despite the fact I had looked at the schedule a few times as well as pulled it up on the internet to look read it from the comforts of my teeny little room here, I still managed to misread it. In my mind it made a lot of sense, but as usually happens when I look at things that involves lots of numbers, I was way off the mark. But I had arranged so that I'd be at the airport plenty early, and made it without further incident. It turns out that both my plane from Frankfurt Hahn and also the plane out of Stansted (near London) were both an hour delayed, so I pretty much made up for the time I had fumbled.
I arrived in Aarhus Airport, Denmark around 10.00 PM (or was it 11.00? I was tired) and met my friend Maria, who I'd met while she studied at my university, and her boyfriend, Frithjof. They picked me up and drove me to Aalborg, where they lived. Even though it was dark, my impression of Denmark was very much like that of home, from the way the land looked. Some of the towns reminded me very much of the small little places in eastern Colorado my family drives through to get to my grandparents' homes. Denmark, from what I saw, is a very flat land, and so is where I'm from (at least until you run Cross Country or ride bikes across it, and then suddenly you find all the hills).
Some of the stand-out memories from it where going out with Maria and her friends because of a birthday one of them had. There was a guy from Australia there as well, so for the benefit of him and me, the group spoke mostly English, all of them very good at it. My experience with Scandinavians, and I have no doubt that most people who have encountered them would agree, is that for non-native English speakers, they speak some of the best English when compared with many other countries. I realize that is a generalization, and that it really depends on the individual, but in some of the countries I've visited, and with some of the people I've spoken with from several places, Scandinavians (Danish, Norwegian, and Sweden) seem to have the most confidence with it. I'm probably making a statement that someone might not like, but I'm just speaking from personal experience. Finland as well, as it is also on the peninsula, although Finnish is not a Scandinavian (and, by default, Germanic, the same as English) language, in fact it is not even an Indo-European language. Therefore, speaking English for them is perhaps all the more "difficult".
In any case, the reason why I'm saying all this is because they were all proficient in English for benefit of this Australian guy and myself. I don't really like speaking English when with a group of people from a non-English speaking country, I felt a bit guilty, like they were having to go out of there way for me, but I really didn't have much of a choice. But they didn't seem to mind. The Danish language is much easier than German for me, even though I have never really formally studied it. However, by the end of the week, I had already started to pick up basic things from sentences, on a very few occasions enough to not really need a translation. Lest this sounds like a boast, though, let me first clarify: Two summers ago I taught myself a fair amount of Norwegian; not enough to speak fluently, but enough to get through reading it to get an basic idea of what was being said. My knowledge was more passive than active, as is usually the case with language study, I think, but it was there. In the two years since I worked through my course book, though, a lot of it has fallen into disuse. But. Norwegian and Danish are very similar written languages which share a history to the point that it can be difficult to tell the languages apart. Honestly, I think they look more like dialects of one another, probably to the horror of Danish and Norwegian speakers. The spoken forms, however, are a bit more different, also rather similar, but with just enough differences to actually stand alone as different languages. Still, they are indeed rather close. And with the exposure of Danish from Maria, Frithjof, her friends, and written Danish in general Norwegian words that I had forgotten I'd learned came back to me with very little difficulty. When I tried to speak Danish, my pronunciation was kind of bad, and I had a natural inclination to use the musical qualities in Norwegian, but it was a start, and lit the fire in me to want to relearn my Norwegian all the more, and then move on to Danish hopefully soon afterward.
Maria, two friends of hers, and I also went to the zoo, which was more fun that I thought it would be. I used to not really care too much about animals, I was just indifferent to them, but ever since I got done with high school and got to college I've been trying to improve some things about myself, just be in more harmony with things. I don't mean to sound hokey or anything like that, I just mean it in a practical way, to appreciate the world around me, including its animals, a little more. It's kind of an interesting experience for me, to see the world from this angle. It means one has to be a little more observant and a bit less selfish, something that can be challenging.
As it was still cool outside (but a nice sunny day, considering typical grey Danish early-spring weather) some of the animals were indoors napping rather than outdoors roaming their simulated plains or hanging in their trees. At the indoor African exhibit, I saw some animals down below a bit in a pen which looked like deer, or gazelle, or something, I'm not sure what exactly they were. There were about eight of them, and I got the attention of two of them when they saw I had my camera ready. I didn't really do anything, they just stopped and looked at me, so I took a few pictures. Then I turned around to the girls, who were talking to each other, and said the animals were looking at me. They got up and went to the edge of the pen and looked a little shocked. I turned around and saw that every single one of the deer had dropped what it was doing and was standing stock-still, looking straight at me. It was a bit unnerving, and unfortunately I didn't have a wide enough lens to get it all into one shot, but I enjoyed the chance to see this.
The next day Maria, Fridtjof, and I all went to Skagen (pronounced "Skayn", apparently known as "The Skaw" according to Wikipedia, I see just now) in Northern Denmark. Skagen is unique for a few things. For one, nearly all of the buildings in this little coastal town have red-tile roofs and are painted a specific shade of yellow...so specific in fact that it is called "Skagen Gul" (Skagen Yellow). It also has the reputation of having very good lighting, and therefore attracted many artists at one time. Whether this is true or not, I don't know, but I did see the grave of an artist who was buried on the beach, as well as a house that had once belonged to an married artist couple, which I thought was kind of amusing and cool as it was red, in stark contrast to the yellow buildings around it.
But the most fascinating thing about Skagen, I thought, was the fact that it is the only place in the known world where it is possible to see waves crashing coming in from two separate directions and crashing into one another, creating a frothy, stormy look that was enhanced by that day's gloomy weather. This happens because the waters from Albaek Bay and Tannis Bay meet at the shifting sandy point in such a way that it creates something which makes the water do that. From that last sentence I hope it is crystal clear I studied almost no geography.
But seeing waves hit each, something I'd wondered as a little kid if it was possible and where, made me reflect upon something else. Somehow, I ended up standing on the northern most tip of Denmark, in really almost the middle of now where, and I even saw a real live, wild sea lion flop his little way into the sea and away from me where I could barely get a picture of it, made me realize that in 21 years, I haven't done too bad for a kid from the Nebraska/Colorado border. All my life I've wanted some kind of adventure, and I have Indiana Jones to thank for that, if you want the Right-Hand-of-God truth. I've read stories about travelers, and if I had a time machine, I would like to use it to travel around with Marco Polo or Lewis and Clarke, or someone of that sort. I may have written about my romantic ideas about traveling and adventure before, so I apologize if I'm repeating anything. But one of the lessons I've learned from traveling is that it is not romantic, and at times it can be kind of boring. People seldom tell the stories where you sit around wondering what to do next, because it isn't all that exciting. But this is a what happens in life sometimes, and I am not complaining about it.
Sometimes I don't know how to see the world. I look at it and observe it, and although it is really unique, sometimes it all looks very similar. Does this mean I'm looking at it only superficially, or because I'm looking at it in depth and seeing the similarities, the way people say "deep down we're all the same"? Like I know I've said before, the real rewards from traveling/meeting people are the more subtle ones than the obvious ones. Under all the clothes, tattoos, piercings, languages, cultural quirks, senses of humor, and the list goes on, there are humans with human hearts and human concerns. Maybe it's not even under all this, maybe all these details point to this fact. Even in a tiny country in Northern Europe, where standards of living are high, it is still possible to be lonely, or to find a job, for example. But there's the positive side too, to get a kick out of seeing animals do goofy things at the zoo liking seeing a monkey cover itself up with a blanket, or to meet a total stranger and find that it is very easy to suddenly tell jokes with them.
Maybe people ask themselves then, "If everyone is so similar, why bother even leaving home?" And to them I'd say that it's fine. Some people have all they need right there. But with such a large garden, why not go see what's growing in it? Why not leave behind everything you know for a bit? Because often times people travel wanting to learn something new about the world, and instead, as corny as it may sound, they end up learning something new about them. I've learned a few things already about myself. Some of it is good, like I learned I can cook, and I learned that it is possible to burn vegetables even if you do put water in there to just steam them, and I've also learned some things about myself that I'm not so proud of, but this is equally useful information to help one learn who one really is, where the cracks are, and where the strengths are. While no one can be perfect, I think a knowledge of shortcomings is helpful when trying to mature.
I'm getting way off the subject of Denmark here. I still have to talk about my trip to Copenhagen, Denmark's capital city. Maria and I went and visited the city on a day trip the day after we were at "the Skaw". I really wanted to see the Little Mermaid statue, basically because it was the only thing in Copenhagen (and besides Legoland, in almost the whole of Denmark) that I really knew about. For those of you who don't know, "The Little Mermaid" was written by the Danish author Hans Christian Andersen, known by the locals as just H.C. Andersen, and it is rather grimmer than the Disney version that's perhaps more famous. The statue itself, situated just on a rock just on the water, has seen its fair share of violence, as well: On occasion hooligans have been so impressed by the statue, that they lop her copper head off. After around three times (I guess, I don't really know) they finally reinforced her most recent replacement head with steel. And indeed the repair job is so good that to the untrained eye, a hint of vandalism isn't really apparent. But Maria and I both agreed that, criminal though it may be, learning that your grandfather as a youth did this, and that your family has the original mermaid head would be kind of cool. Hypothetical of course, but just imagine. Or be ashamed, I guess. The choice is yours.
The grey weather dissipated while we were visiting Copenhagen and we were blessed with a warm, cloudless day in which to see the rest of the city. I asked Maria if she considered me a tourist visiting her, and she said that defining what a tourist is really difficult. But on the way to see a large library, we ended up getting lost and in fact cluelessly walking in the opposite direction, so I guess we really were tourists.
My last real day in Denmark was just a chill out day. Maria and I went to the park to see the birds at the pond and to buy candy, because that evening we stayed indoors watching "The Bourne Supremacy" and playing "Burn Out 2". I didn't really feel like doing anything major, since I had to be up at 5 the next morning to catch my plane. I said my good byes to Frithjof, who I was quite happy to see throughout the week we got along fine thanks to our similar screwy senses of humor, and then I spent a restless night in bed; before traveling or something major, like an early class, I tend to sleep very poorly.
Maria accompanied me to Aarhus were I caught the bus to the airport. The traveling from Denmark to London and then onto Germany went off without any real incidents, but it was a lot of tiresome waiting, something that can make traveling dull. But it can also be fun, since while waiting for the bus, I shared a table at a cafe in the airport with some Germans who were very impressed by my German. It made me feel good, of course, and native speakers are the best judges, but like I said in my last post, I have so far yet to go before I personally feel comfortable in my German. Nevertheless, little bits of encouragement such as this are always most welcome.
I got back to Trier around 10.00 PM (or maybe closer to 11.00...detecting a pattern yet?) and ran into some people from my hall. I actually had been a little homesick for Germany while away. I missed the people I've begun to form more solid relationships with, and apparently the weather was beautiful the entire time I was gone. But naturally I'm happy about my trip to Denmark and to see my friend Maria again. I'm always glad to be back in Germany, which somehow is starting to feel a bit like a home to me, and I need a rest now, because even a week can exert a person a bit, but I'm sure in time I'll be ready to pick up my backpack again and trusty satchel again.
I think this is a good place to finish my entry.
I hope all is well, and thank you Maria and Frithjof for your hospitality. Say hello to our companions to the zoo and the Harry Potter movie for me, Maria! :-)
Sincerely,
Tristan
posted by Tristan | 5:33 AM
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