27 August 2009

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.

1 comment:

  1. That was so obviously your voice and wonderful to hear it. Love, Mom

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