Øl and Festuge

Despite the fact that I spent an hour Friday evening on a canal tour and the greater part of Saturday touring Kronburg Castle in Helsingør*, this weekend was my first look into real Danish entertainment culture: food, drink, music, and football.

When I returned to my small town on Saturday evening, I left with my family only a half hour later for Køge--a city of about 55,000 that's one of the oldest towns in the country and 10 km south of where I live. Every year, the town holds the Køge Festuge--several days of free music, expensive beer, and carnival stands in the middle of their town square.  My host family had already been the night before to see a fairly well-known band called Infernal, and tonight we were returning to see the headliner--Aqua (of "Barbie Girl" fame).

For dinner, we went just down the street from the festival on the square and had a small cook-out on the back patio of my host-dad's sister's house.  It was small, but the weather has been cooling--so all of us huddled around the small grill, chatting (mostly in Danish) and drinking some beer (øl) was very hygge (cozy--big Danish word).  There wasn't a wide selection of food, but rather, a large quantity of Danish-style hot dogs--extra long franks just piled on top of the grill, with heated buns, Danish remoulade (so much better than ketchup or mustard!  although those were also available), homemade cucumbers, and roasted onions (they look like bacon bits, but they're extremely popular).

After dinner, I joined a friend from DIS who's staying in Køge to wait for Aqua to start.  We only knew three songs, but that was besides the point.  It was just fun to be a part of this solid mass of people in the middle of a city at nearly 11 at night, excited about listening to some music and getting slightly annoyed at the two men behind us who were ecstatically into the show.  People around who lived on the square just stuck their heads out the window, and the silhouette of the copper statue was always present in the backlighting of the stage.  The one thing we worried about was pushing our way through the crowd to find a spot where we could see decently enough.  This ended up not working out anyway, since there were multiple five-year-old girls sitting on their father's shoulders, right in my line of sight for the stage.  But nevertheless, I was unsure about how us two English-speaking crowd-pushers would be perceived, and I was not yet comfortable enough with the Danish words to say anything at all except my English conversation.  

I had a similar situation this evening at the FCK vs. Brøndby football match I went to for my Danish class.  It would have been an incredible opportunity for me to try to use some of the Danish I've learned (especially when ordering my French hot dog), but I forgot to, and the woman behind the counter knew I spoke English just by the way I said "park dog" when I was ordering.

The game itself, however, was pretty incredible.  It was between the top two teams in Denmark, so, naturally, each side has a very fervent following.  I got there a little later due to transportation confusion, and it was a little disconcerting to see the riot vans lining up outside the stadium as we were going in.  Both teams were obviously very good (it ended up being a tie!), and the fans were so loud at some points that it was almost deafening.  Poor sportsmanship was abound (the players shoved each other when the ball wasn't in play, and Brøndby supporters through things at the FCK goalie, who later had to be taken out on a stretcher from being hit by another player), but I was still impressed by the fan dedication.  And it's nice not to have all the cutesy videos and cheerleaders during time outs:  it was all game!

*(side note:  Kronburg is completely gorgeous and has some fascinating historical background.  It's the setting for Shakespeare's Hamlet, and also where Jude Law is currently performing as Hamlet; unfortunately, I didn't see him.  More pictures will be on Picasa and Facebook)

Culture Shock?

I needed an introductory post for you all graciously reading my cliché blog. Please ignore the cliché title--it's part of the package.

I have been in Copenhagen for nearly a week now, arriving Sunday morning after an exhaustingly boring flight.  Since then, I have been thrown information and opportunities at every angle by DIS and my host family.  It's certainly been overwhelming, and the 600-strong student body (of which I only recognize about 30 at this point) has not been a huge help.  Nevertheless, classes started this morning, and as we move into routine schedules, get into the groove of learning, and arrange social and travel plans, it will all start to feel right.

BUT, you're not here to read about my mental and emotional well-being.  What about the city?  The food?  The people?

Well, let me say from the get-go that I do not like to set hard expectations.  Hopes and dreams, yes.  But expectations?  I can't set them or I will be very disappointed when they are not met.  I fantasized all summer about what Europe would be like.  My Dad mentioned to me yesterday that many people who have never been outside the US may seem to think that everything "Euro" is perfect.  And yes, I think that is what I was envisioning pre-departure--after all, I'm going to the happiest country on earth!  I was also grappling with my identity as an American.  I mean, obviously, someone who's lived in Indiana for all 20 years of her life is nothing BUT American.  But I've also always liked to think of myself as somewhat classier and less culturally arrogant than the majority, and I was fully anticipating those visions to be horribly shattered once I began my studies in Copenhagen.

It was the airplane to my layover in Stockholm that brought me my first touch of reality.  First it was the realization that everyone on the plane was able to speak English to me, and I could not have been more grateful.  It would have been so indescribably alienating if the situation was different, and I could only feel a little shame for not being able to reciprocate.

Second, I had the sudden realization mid-flight that Copenhagen is a city . . . like New York or Chicago.  It's not just a totally awesome historic district, but a city.  I don't think anything could have prepared me for what I would find on the ground:  the woosh of bicycles at every intersection, the sudden light changes at the crosswalk, the tight, winding streets, and the fact that I have to walk down an alley way to get into my classes, which are held in a building that also rents office space to other tenants.  And then there are things you would find in American cities as well:  incredibly complex graffiti on the S-trains, immigrants digging through trash cans for food, and ads for something every 20 meters.  I quickly became accustomed to this reality, but I'm still working my way through it and balancing my comfort level with a place my host mom described as somewhere you need to be careful, but where there is no need to worry about safety.   

For the most part, I do not believe I have a horrible case of the "romantic" stage of Culture Shock.  Granted, I am still very much a tourist (and not too ashamed to admit that).  I will be for a while until I know the city and stop being so interested in every new corner.  I love the colors of the buildings, the ornate metal work, the canal, the eclectic shops, and all those beautiful corroded copper statues.  But the people, their attitudes, and the symbiosis of land and social strata are more important.

So, with one week short of three months left to go, I declare this blog open to my every observation I wish to make public.  Maybe I'll make a few conclusions on the way, finally learn to think a little like a Dane, or simply just notice way more than might be healthy.  We shall just wait and see.