28 September 2009

The Small Things--Touching Base After a Month of Pretending to be Danish!

There's so much to talk about here in Denmark, but so little time to blog!  I feel like I skip over a lot of the little things I'm experiencing, but I promise to write more about it in the future.  Some of the ideas are even in my head--I'm just waiting for the right time.

In the meantime, I finally had a weekend without major plans, where I was able to both chain down some travel break reservations and bounce around the vibrance of Copenhagen in the evening, lit with a little neon, dusted with nightlife litter (and the beggars who pick up bottles to get the 1 krone refund), and filled with the sounds of people--alive, laughing, and dancing.  I even went to a bar made out of ice, where we had to wear fur-lined ponchos and a group of Danish women from the mainland approached my boisterous group of Americans to learn about why we're here and make us congo around the ice table.  DIS students were told that Danes are often considered 'cold' because they don't like to approach anyone they don't know.  But skål (cheers) to these women for defying the norm!

My host-mom, Kirsten, gave me a pile of Danish CDs to try after I went to the library on Friday and unsuccessfully attempted to select some music that I might like.  I'm slowly working my way through it, although I haven't been incredibly impressed so far (it's just not my style).  But right now I'm listening to Lars H.U.G., who's pretty good!  He kind of reminds me of Toad the Wet Sprocket with a little more of country and pop sounds and hooks.  I wasn't sure what to expect because Kirsten had said he was "very special," and the last time she used that phrase was in reference to Christiania.  I also need to listen to a little more of Grand Avenue, though, which she claims is kind of like Coldplay (and her sister LOVES them).

Lastly, I feel a need to write about a potentially sensitive topic about national identity and outsider perception.  In my Danish class, there's a lot of effort to learn not just the language, but also the concept of 'Danishness' as it applies in both historical and contemporary cultural contexts.  There are, surprisingly, quite a few articles on the issue (not to mention sometimes conflicting views from my host-family), and I'm not having the easiest time sorting it out.  Plus, everytime we learn about something that is supposedly a staple of Danish culture, I can't help but wonder, "Is this truly universal, or is it just what we're learning?  What do most Danes actually think?"  We hear about how Danes are so homogeneous that they're almost a 'tribe'--does this still hold in the 21st century?

As an American, I've always lacked a sense of a concrete, shared culture with my nationality.  However, I know that someone, somewhere is being taught the ways I supposedly think and act, and either they're completely wrong, or I'm completely clueless about how I fit into American culture.  I learned this week that my host brother Jonas' English class is currently going through a unit about school shootings in America, and I'm at a loss for how I feel about this.  On one hand, it's downright insulting to insinuate that school shootings are a 'part' of American culture.  On the other hand--I doubt that's what they're trying to say by including this unit in the curriculum.   It is, after all, a horrid phenomenon that is increasing worldwide, and it's important to remember these disasters and learn how to locate warning signs.  And maybe I'm wrong about its place within the history of American society!  I mean, I just looked at the Wikipedia article about school shootings and was surprised to see 14 events listed from 2008 to present--most of which I had no idea occurred.  Kirsten said there has only been one event in Denmark that could be called a "school shooting."  Is this a specifically American problem, or is it also due to the fact that we're so much larger?  I'm still just unsure.  I'm not trying to say that the English classes here should only focus on the positive aspects of culture, but I can't help but question the appropriateness of this particular subject.

22 September 2009

There's Something About Samsø

First and foremost, Samsø is a municipality of about 4000 permanent residents--2500 in the main village of Tranebjerg, while the remaining 1500 are scattered throughout the other villages and connected by a network of quiet roads and a patchwork quilt of increasingly industrial farming projects. It is also one of the 78 inhabited Danish islands, 114 km2 (44 mi2) in area, and home to maybe 25,000 vacationers throughout the year. Despite the charm of the 300-year-old half-timber houses with their thatch roofs, Samsø is a polarized community, separated historically by a bog in the northern part of the island and a now-dry canal that dates back to 737 CE. The accents heard across the island are more similar to the accents at the nearest mainland ports than they are to each other, and even in such a small space, the islanders divide the regions in terms of class.

And yet, there is a high amount of trust. Samsø is a place where farmers set up shelves outside their homes to sell their goods day and night--with nothing but a locked box to deposit money in. These kiosks were everywhere on the island, selling garage sale junk, crafts, extra vegetables, famous Samsø kartoffler (potatoes--the island boasts the most delicate in Denmark), strawberry marmalade, and pumpkins (the recent increase in the popularity of Halloween has made this place the 'Pumpkin Capital of Denmark'). And if you see someone walking down the otherwise deserted street, you might just be able to get her to lead you to the oldest house in the village: a circa 1600 Captain's homestead that has been in the same family for the past 12 generations. Then, the 11th generation granddaughter might lead you around her home, where she'll show you the old gravestone that her 5th generation grandfather took down to use as a place for the milk jugs and tell you about how in the early 20th century, 1 person in every third house on the street would emigrate to America.

However, in most recent years, tourists don't come to Samsø to see this community of old European villages.  Instead, they (including myself and 29 others in my group that went last weekend on a DIS-sponsored trip) come to see an island that has made themselves carbon neutral and energy-sustainable in just 10 years, thanks in part to a competition the Danish government held back in 1997, which called for a public-driven energy project that used existing technology and government subsidies.  Today, residents generate all their electricity from 11 wind turbines on the island.  They heat their homes by burning straw or woodchips at district heating plants, and solar panels in the northern section provide hot water.  Plus, 10 off-shore windmills export energy to the mainland, which offsets the island's transportation and heating carbon enough to lower each resident's carbon footprint to -3.7 tonnes per year.  In the meantime, the rest of the country still chugs along at 10 tonnes of carbon dioxide per person per year.  The average American?  We'll . . . we emit 20 tonnes.

I realize that all I've done here is throw s list of facts at you, but I don't really have a better way of expressing this feat.  How can a small island, graced with that conservative mentality of waiting before trying anything new (much like Indiana) achieve this goal?  Was it the way the project made sure all voices around the island were heard in the process?  Or maybe it was the emphasis on personal gain for both the projects themselves and involvement with their construction?  The focus on use of local resources and businesses? 

As far as my experience on Samsø goes, I sure can say how much fun I had biking and hiking in the gorgeous weather, collecting smooth rocks in the Baltic Sea, and climbing a wind turbine.  I can marvel over the history of the community as it develops from it's long-built dichotomy to a place that attracts forward-thinking businesses, like the organic Samsø Bryghus (brewery) and restaurant.  But what I won't forget for a while is the impression that these people have made on me.  Even with somewhat of an opposition, they worked together to do something miraculous.  Indiana may not have the same resources or the laws in place that could allow this to happen (yet), but I direly hope they can learn from this example.



For more information, visit Energiakademiet.

17 September 2009

Kage

Check this baby out!
This would be the hindbær brombær kage that I bought myself today because I got everything done in a timely matter.
Ok, really, I was just in Christianshavn where there's a really good bakery that I had been planning on going back to for one of these--I just needed an excuse to do it.  It was good!  The blackberries could have been a little more ripe, and I wish I had a napkin, but the raspberry cream was awesome, and the cake--which was covered in a cold, chocolate shell--tasted kind of like banana.
What was even more exciting was that it was the first time that, after I'd used more than just monosyllabic Danish words, the cashier actually responded to me in Danish!  Of course, I then had to embarrassingly admit that I only spoke English when she asked if I wanted it to go.  Oh well. 

And then I got an awesome seat in the front of the Metro, where I could see it going through the tunnel.  The Metro also utilizes video ads that are projected on the opposite wall of the tunnel when the trains are stopped at stations?  I must say it's a little weird.

16 September 2009

Adventures in Happiness

Pre-departure for Copenhagen, both my parents had the habit of telling people that I was going to Denmark solely to take the "Psychology of Happiness" core course.  This wasn't entirely true.  In fact--from what I could see about it online--it looked like a wishy-washy class about staying positive, and my first response was to suppress the gag reflex.  But hey, if you're going to take a course like this, why not take in in the "happiest country on Earth"?

Well, while it's true that any place we have visited with this class has buttered us up with a combination of tea/coffee, snacks, and a non-traditional seating environment (all of which I couldn't be more stoked about!), I could not have made a less accurate prediction of what the "psychology of happiness" entails.  Positive psychology is a very real (and fascinating) science.  Sure, it may be more on the social spectrum of psychology fields (which isn't particularly my preference), but that doesn't stop it from peering into what makes humans tick at our best levels.  That statement, at any rate, is what I like about psychology--not the abnormal, but the parameters in which we normally operate, which help us feel emotions, react to them in certain ways, and excel over other species. 

I write this now because I spent last Thursday, Friday, and Saturday with my classmates in this course on our short study tour to Jylland (Jutland, the western peninsula in Denmark).  In addition, I had a field study for the course today, and I have a reflection paper due tomorrow (blog-writing is a good way to collect my thoughts on the matter).  Every single place we visited has been an inspiration to me--right down to the non-academic/cultural visits to Koldinghus castle and the Trapholt museum in Kolding.  Who knew that efforts to preserve the ruins of a burnt wing in a castle or the smooth and well-crafted forms of furniture could help form my perspective of happiness within the Danish "tribe"?

Our academic visits, on the other hand, had a strong base in applied psychology, bringing research and positive psychology theories into pedagogy and the workforce.  I was especially expecting to get a little bored at the visit to the Kaospilots in Århus (Denmarks' second largest city).  We were told that they were school that focused on entrepreneurial skills for youth. What they should have told us is that it's a secondary school of awesomeness, where students (some of which already have a bachelors degree, and others have just spent time doing something else since high school) spend three years learning how to direct their own skills to something good for the world.  Kaospilot grads essentially learn how to live a meaningful life, and while most do not choose to get an actual degree for it, they can still find a job or create their own business.

We also had visits to the Universe Research Lab and Danfoss Universe experience park, both run by the Universe Foundation in conjunction with Danfoss--a huge Danish company in the heating/cooling business.  I know that doesn't at all sound related to psychology, but what Danfoss has done is comparable to if Ford built a science/kid's museum on the outskirts of Detroit and devoted a separate foundation to improved education for young Michiganers.  The Universe Research Lab was behind a lot of what gets put into the Danfoss Universe park.  They also have a two-year project with the schools in Vejle, researching working conditions, well-being, and learning for students, teachers, and administrators.  What's even cooler is that the project makes schools to develop their OWN improvement plan, based on the results from the surveys. 

And then there's Danfoss Universe, which was just pure awesomeness in only a few acres of space.  I think a lot of Danish parents are skeptical about the quality of this park.  After all, there are no rides--just learning.  However, you get to ride segways, play with energy, spin around on awesome playground equipment, play with ACTUAL excavators (not the kids-sized ones we had at my pre-school playground!) and lift a car, for pete's sake! Do you know how many 20-year-olds attacked the lever to lift a car?  Pretty much all of us.  And we all had to have a turn being lifted on the ropes when other people let go.  Danfoss Universe also features a giant blue cube that was Iceland's pavilion in the 2000 World Expo, and an exhibit that encourages kids to explore their multiple intelligences (which I unfortunately was not able to spend a lot of time in).


These businesses don't advertise as part of the positive psychology movement.  They don't sell self-help books that will just make us feel worse when we don't need them.  Instead, they improve the world by helping individuals grow on their own terms.  And that's what it's all about.

15 September 2009

Vesterbro

Yesterday evening, I took my first jaunt through Vesterbro on my way to a meeting with the Danish Climate Movement.  Vesterbro is the southwest borrough of Copenhagen, and the area is lined with nearly mature trees and buildings that feel a bit more spacious than those in the city centre.  It's odd, because while the city centre consists of winding streets and tight buildings from the 17-1800's, Vesterbro looks like it's older--even though it was probably only built in the early to mid 20th century (at my best guess).

It seems to gradually be developing into a hip sort of place, and it feels more like a city of youth than the other borroughs do.  I'll have to explore it more another time, but my goal yesterday evening was to find the office and talk about climate with 3 Danes and several other DIS students.  It was good--just eating Danish butter cookies and working in the dark, inadvertently saving some energy (at least until someone noted the humor in it, and we turned on the lights).  Danish butter cookies, by the way, are not quite as good here as they are in the US.  They also don't come in giant tins.

P.S.  Dinner with my host family this evening was a delicious meal that consisted of a cubed potatoes with bacon, beef, and pork, sitting on top of traditional Danish black bread, topped with fried eggs and beets.  My host family added ketchup, but that's not really my thing.  I believe it might have been called something that sounded like bækesmad biksemad (with a soft 'd' that sounds more like an 'l').  I probably butchered that word.

09 September 2009

Weekend Update

Looking ahead for my schedule, I decided it was best to post one massive entry about recent goings-on.  After all, I'm going to Jylland (aka Jutland, the western peninsula) this weekend, and I don't want to be behind on my entries when I get back!

Weekends continue to be a haven of various experiences from different aspects of Danish cultures.  My Saturday was the most normal day, per say.  It started with some cleaning (ok, I vacuumed my room, after they literally vacuumed the entire house at about 8 in the morning), and then I went with my family to watch my host brother's (Jonas) handball game.  Handball is a sport that is more commonly played in Denmark than anywhere else, and it's like a cross between football (soccer) and basketball, with physical contact/defense added in.   Afterward, my family was hosting a dinner party.  We had been warned that Danish dinners (even on normal days) can last for several hours, and this was no exception (though it wasn't that different from a dinner party back home).  The length is aided by the long space of talking (or watching tv--like Denmark vs. Portugal world cup qualifying match) between courses:  salad, meal, desert.  The drinks changed with the courses, too!  We went from beer, to wine, and then to coffee and tea with desert (after which the men went back to beer). 

This little party was less of a lesson in traditional Danish meals and more of just an experience of Danish life through the conversations.  This included a much-anticipated (albeit small) discussion about the American health care debate.  All that really happened was a consensus between the four adults and I that a change was needed in American health care to provide it for those who can't afford it.  They noted that wait times can be long for care in Denmark, but they didn't complain.  I also learned that most businesses provide employees with a basic insurance for normal, minor doctor's visits.  They only rely on the government care for the bigger issues, like heart surgery. 

The only shock I had was when one guest--14-year-old Thomas--was offered some food in Danish, and he responded, "Fuck yeah!"  I could only laugh, because while "fuck" is a common word among American youth--we usually don't dare use it at the dinner table.  In the subsequent discussion, I learned that it's common here because it's on the American movies on the television so often (the subtitles are censored; the audio track is not), and because it's an English cuss-word, it's generally considered ok.  What was even more surprising to me was when I went to the "children's" section of the Statens Museum for Kunst (the National Gallery) this afternoon and I saw a painting entitled, "OH MY GOD! That plant is a fucking vacuum!"  It should be noted that said painting was not the only questionable item in the kid's gallery.  I'm getting the sense that anything goes when it comes to art in this country. 

All this being said, the greater part of my weekend took place not at home, but at the Technical University of Copenhagen (DTU) in Lyngby for CO2PENHAGEN--the world's first carbon-neutral music festival.  It was a pretty uneventful Friday night--when I took an 8 pm to 4 am volunteer shift so that I could get a free pass to the festival.  This involved me essentially bouncing for the lounge area for bands, which is normally a student bar.  I met more Danes than I have on any other occasion!  Unfortunately, they were drunk and the conversations usually didn't go very far beyond the set of 5 questions I was consistently asked.  At least they were friendly (no, really--they could be a lot of fun).  It was also unfortunate that I didn't get to spend much time with the other volunteers because my supervisor kept me at my post most of the time.  They were an interesting bunch of people, though--mostly international students (only one was Danish--all but 5 others I met were American).  I think that speaks a lot about the universal appeal this type of event has.

It was more eventful when I went back on Sunday.  I wandered around and saw the tents about the earth.  I signed a giant petition that will be given to the delegates at COP15.  I paid 25 kroner and hopped on a bike until I reached 75 kcal to have a smoothie.  I watched some short films, stopped by the music, and took some Danish buttons about loving the environment from the transportation representatives there.


One thing that was great about the festival was that they didn't buy any carbon offsets, which are kind of a cheap way to reach "carbon neutrality."  However, that doesn't mean that they used completely carbon-free energy supplies.  In fact, while all their sources are renewable, the majority of them are biofuel and do emit CO2.  The organizers argue that since this involves re-planting, this can be considered carbon-neutral.  I'm not sure if I agree, but I admire the festival's purpose just the same.  Either way--it's still a step towards being conscious consumers in all aspects of our lives:  even the exorbitant entertainment sector.

And I mean, really--any place that can get teams to bike to power a DJ and LED lights is cool.  Because of this, I can actually officially say I biked with an Italian cycling team, since "Bella Italia" needed help generating more power than "Denmark + French guy" and I was bored and wanted to get on a bike again--even if I was wearing a dress, leggings and snow boots!  Besides, those stationaries that they had were pretty cool.  This also inspired me to finally get on my host-bike this morning and explore the countryside and the network of pedestrian/bike paths around my municipality, but that's another story entirely, and it's time to sign off from this long post. 

Enjoy and please tell me your thoughts!  If you're interested, more photos of the festival are on Picasa and fb.

07 September 2009

Advent of Autumn

I thought I'd be a little upset once fall creeped in and the weather got cold and wet.  However, I always change my minds with the seasons, and it's not so cool or constantly rainy yet that I can't enjoy a walk through Langelinie and the Kastellet--which together are essentially the Central Park of Copenhagen (though they are smaller--the effect is the same).  Most of the leaves are still green, but they're yellowing at the edges, and the ground is dusted with crunchy early falls.  The water in the two moats around the Kastellet is some of the clearest I've seen since I've been here, and it's calming to watch the grebes, swans, and the great blue heron around the underwater plants.  And, just like any other place in Copenhagen, the park is full of the charming green copper monuments and statuettes.












I'll take the time to explain my weekend later, and post more pictures from this gorgeous day on facebook and the picasa gallery.  There will be captions there, too (you just have to visit the blog album in the picasa gallery; a link is on the right).

05 September 2009

Destination Dystopia: Christiania

DIS students have Wednesdays set aside for field studies--3 hour trips to places around town as a supplement to class material.  We usually have about two of these per class, which means that some days, we have an entirely free day.  My friends and I decided it would be worthwhile to take a trip to Christiania--the "free town" on the southern outskirts of Copenhagen in Christianhavn.  My host family referred to it as a "special place," and were surprised when I said I hadn't heard of it before.  It's famous for its antics around Europe. 

I must say that we were a little disappointed.  The concept of a "free town" sounds incredible (though not necessarily ideal), and I was envisioning a bustling little village of hippies.  That is half-true, but Pusher Street (yes, you heard me right) was the only place the slightest bit lively, and even then, it was mostly drug paraphernalia, rasta-related souvenirs, and your regular hippie clothing and accessories (though I did see a purse I liked . . . thinking of going back to get it).  It was surprisingly unoriginal.   

There were some very cool parts, too.  It is a very open community that has an emphasis on sharing resources and rules by consensus.  I also loved the murals on the walls, mosaic sculptures hidden in bushes, a few art studios, and several make-shift hand-painted playgrounds with tree forts, tire swings, and old equipment (I really wanted to play on them, but I also just kept wondering, "Kids live here??").  Since the land the town rests on used to be military area, the majority of non-residential buildings are warehouses, which means that cafes tended to have this welcoming, open atmosphere..  One of them--The Moonfisher--not only had a giant mural of a man sitting on the moon, smoking a joint and fishing, but it also proclaimed itself the "Safest Cafe in the World--over 6000 armed police inspections since March 2004." 

That being said, this was all in the context of a rather dingy area, with overgrown plants, neglected roads and pathways, and houses that ranged from the visionary to something so make-shift that it was almost slum-like.  Since the residents are essentially squatters on land owned by the state of Denmark (although the rest of the town has to approve for them to build there), residents don't pay property tax (they still pay income tax if they have a job and they recently started paying taxes on utilities).  Personally, I think that's a little selfish of them to take advantage of Danish welfare while not fully participating.  It's stupid that instead of focusing on how to make Christiania more self-sufficient, residents instead declare their freedom with frivolities like minting their own currency.

I know it could be argued that without Christiania, there would be a lot more people who can't afford to live in the Copenhagen area.  To be honest, I think the town should stay--there's no reason to get rid of it.  The issue with pot trade could probably be dealt with a lot better, but I have no opinion about it.  However, despite its "free" nature, I wish the country and the town could come together to arrange an official agreement about their status.  It might make it easier for everyone, or even improve the state of living within the town.

(on the back of the entrance gate to Christiania)

04 September 2009

Umbrella fury

Really, how pathetic do you have to be to steal an umbrella?  Especially when you already have your own that will cover you on the rainy streets of Copenhagen--even if it has no handle?
Some people are lame.