A Year of Magical Thinking

When the average person thinks of the fall, they tend to think of a new season, of leaves changing, of the weather growing colder, and perhaps of a new school year starting if you are of the student variety. But for many people, September marks the start of a new year. This new year is the Jewish year, marked by a remarkable string of holidays, too much food, and time with family.

This year, seeing as I am a little less than 4,000 miles away from home, my holidays are not quite the same. Different city, different language, different customs, different melodies - observing holidays here sometimes do feel like I'm in a foreign country (pun intended, it was the best way to put it). And yet, I feel remarkably at home. The events of my Yom Kippur, the Jewish day of atonement, truly reflect that.

I went to the local Chabad house for a pre-fast meal, since I was not sure of my ability to cook an adequate and filling meal prior to fasting for 25 hours or so (not to mention the potential trauma that purchasing kosher chicken would wreak on my wallet). I was planning on sleeping over there to save myself the 45 minute hike back to my kollegium, so I went upstairs, prepared my bed, and came back down to help out in the kitchen. At the meal, which usually involves eating potatoes with my immediate family, and worrying about being late to Kol Nidre (even though we never are), I definitely had a different taste. I sat with my friends, fellow Americans, bonding and commiserating over the approaching holiday and what celebration meant for us overseas. True to form, after dinner I ran upstairs to brush my teeth one last time, and then rushed to the Great Synagogue, because we were afraid that we would be late.

As I have described in my previous posts, the Denmark Synagogue is a sight to behold. I find myself comparing it to the Great Synagogue in Cracow - both locations have that old majestic feeling, decorated in grandeur that is uncommon in the United States. There was a lot of chatter, since most of the Jews in Denmark were congregated in this one building at once. I expected to feel lost, but I actually new a considerable amount of the Danish people, not to mention the American students who made an appearance. Seeing familiar faces, having people say that it was so nice to see me, and inviting to meals for future holidays - it was overwhelmingly like I home, and I was thrilled.

The actual service was intense. When the cantor began to sing Kol Nidre, the room went silent and I got chills. The whole room was listening, and together we welcomed the holiday and absolved our vows. There was a sense of unity about the crowd, not only because they are an enclave among a mostly homogenous society, but also because they were coming together as a community to declare their faith, to forgive, and to be forgiven.

The rest of the evening service was long. Because the building was full to capacity, I ended up standing in the extremely warm women's balcony for most of the three hours. The rest of the evening involved chatting with another exchange student with whom I was bunking in the Chabad house, then tucking into bed to get plenty of sleep before our long day on Monday.

On your average Saturday morning at NYU, you will have at least three options for services, usually four. That is more than in the entire city of Copenhagen. Here, there is the Great Synagogue, the small Orthodox shul, and then a reform shul that holds services and events once a month. Luckily there were options, so I chose to go to the small Orthodox shul for morning prayers. It was very quiet, with less than 15 women in our section at peak attendance. It was very quiet, and very conducive to quiet reflection. There were no speeches and no interruptions (neither in Danish nor in English).

Just as musaf ended around 4:30, I returned to the Chabad house hoping to take a quick nap, but found myself in a small informal lecture about the meaning of Yom Kippur. The Rabbi spoke of the importance of the day, the meaning of fasting, and the idea of the scapegoat. He provided some food for thought prior to the end stretch of the day. There was a minyan in the Chabad house and it started as soon as the talk was over, so it was right to it for the remainder of the chag. This was the first time I had gone to the entirety of all five services on Yom Kippur, and it was also the first time I did the whole day without a break. And yet, the last stretch was smooth, easy, and meaningful.

When we sang the traditional "Napoleon's March" at the end of Neilah, I felt like relieved, like the day was over, like the holiday was coming to a close, and like we had accomplished something. Rabbi Loewenthal spoke about how resilient people are, and it is true. As a community, we made it through the day. As an individual, I'm half way through holiday season on my own (meaning without my parents and family to cook and make it easy). I've established myself here in Copenhagen, creating a community with my classmates, other Americans, other visitors to Denmark, and Danish people. Everyone has a niche, and I am thankful to be carving mine out successfully here in Copenhagen. All of these things seem to portend a good year, and I hope that this is true for all of us.

A Book of Common Prayer

High holidays are usually the time when everyone clears out of school for the weekend, heading home to celebrate the coming of a new year with their families. Being in Denmark, I was not going to fly back to New York for the weekend, so I was set to celebrate Rosh HaShannah the Danish way.

Through a friend of a friend of a friend (not even joking), I managed to get invited to a random Danish family for dinner on Friday night. My friend Naomi is friends with a guy who is in the Israeli army, and one of his friends from his unit is Danish. She was invited to dinner, and extended the invitation to myself and to our friend Deborah. I felt a little bit intrusive, since this was obviously a family gathering and there was no direct connection between the family and the American crew, but they made us feel welcome and at home - it was very hyggeligt. We had an intimate home-cooked meal, and afterwards sat on the couches drinking tea and coffee, and nibbling on dessert fruit and cookies.

It is very unusual for Danish people to invite strangers over to their houses, so I felt especially lucky to have such a wonderful opportunity to celebrate Rosh HaShannah with a family. The culture of having guests is very different here. When Danes welcome others into their homes, these guests are close friends. It is very unusual for a Dane to invite strangers over, and it would be even more unusual if they were to invite last minute guests. Meals are carefully planned, with menu and the amount of food predetermined. The whole point is to have a hyggeligt time, and unexpected guests (and the consequences of not preparing for them) could hinder that.

The rest of the weekend was really a blend of going to shul and hanging out at the Chabad house. For the first day I went to the Great Synagogue. The building is old and gorgeous, and the chazzanut recalled times long ago, when the shul was probably full to capacity for all the holidays. There was definitely a large crowd, but the women's section was very noisy, and it was difficult to follow since the huge columns made it difficult to see down to the men's section. For the second day, I went to another congregation called Machzikei Hadas, a very small Orthodox shul that was a lot more quiet.

Being away from home for the holidays, I expected to have a very different experience. I did not think that I would feel at home. I thought that attending a random family dinner would be awkward, but it was nice and I felt at home. I thought that going to shul overseas would be strange, but it was pretty much the same as in the United States. It seems like no matter where you go, you can find something familiar, something common - a taste of home.

Political Fictions

0xKaren26 - Karen in Denmark seeking August's father - (2009) (Denmark)

http://gawker.com/5359252/free-affair-and-bastard-child-with-your-denmark-trip

The joys of Denmark, courtesy of Sarah.

Girls of the Golden West

This past weekend I traveled to Western Denmark with my program and core class. We did a lot of driving, some touring, and some academic activities. I'll write about the academic aspects of my visit in the near future, since most of the time was spent learning about the Danish healthcare system and I have plenty to say about that. We visited a hospital, a general practitioner's clinic, and the regional headquarters for southern Denmark. And while this was certainly an example of vast differences between America and Denmark, the non-academic parts of the trip brought to light the enormous differences between rural and urban Denmark.

Going into the trip, I thought that Western Denmark would be dreadfully boring, just farmland and not much else. To be brutally honest, the other cities that our group visited were not exactly bustling metropolises. Playing the New York City snob, I would call them quaint towns. But this difference in idea is part of what makes Denmark such a unique country, when considered in comparison to the United States, as well as when examined by itself.

Our first cultural visit was to the Rødding Højskole in the small town of Rødding. A højskole, (pronounced like high school), is a very unique institution, originally intended to prepare the uneducated rural youth to be active members of the rising democracy of Denmark. It was a way of communicating Danish culture, and preparing young people to be fine and upstanding citizens in the larger framework of Danish society.

Today, højskole is for students who are not sure what they want to study at university, and who want time to explore different areas and to really find themselves. These are boarding schools, which is a big part of the experience. Students live together with their teachers, which fosters a close knit and safe environment for learning and growth. There are no tests and no homework assignments - students are there only to learn.

The DIS group joined the students in Rødding for dinner and games - nothing fosters international bonding like a good game of dodgeball. We had dessert and some singing time, where all the students sang English and Danish songs. The favorites seemed to be selections from the Beatles, and other retro hits. After our activities were over, one of the Danish students begged to take us to Napoleon, the local bar. It turned out to be the only bar in Rødding, and it was on one of the two streets in the town. When we got there, it was a tiny, smoky joint. The only other people in there were three old people, who looked like they had been in the bar for awhile, and probably did this every night.

Our other cultural visits included a visit to a science museum, where I rode a segway (!). We visited a city called Sønderborg in southern Denmark. We had dinner at a restaurant on the harbor, and went to a huge outdoor concert in town. It seemed like everyone in Sønderborg was at that festival, rocking out to a band that is apparently very famous in Denmark.

After the music was over, a large group of American students headed over to local hotspot "Maybe Not Bob." Yes, that was the name of the bar. I don't get it either. But I had an amazing time. The place seemed like it was a scene for the underage crowd - there was a sign on the wall boasting an after-school special. It was a bit of a dive, with wood tables soaked in beer, walls covered in graffiti, and air so smoky you could hardly see the people next to you. But it was great music and great company. The DJ played some great choices (everything from the most current radio hits, to favorites from the 90s, to God Bless America - yes that really was played in a bar). But my friends and I danced all night, and all I could think was, "I really freaking love Denmark."

This entire experience was an experiment in nightlife in small towns. I am very used to being in a big city, so to me , Copenhagen is small. But for the people that we met this weekend, Copenhagen is the big city. There was something really nice about the way that people appreciate the small towns that they are from, and make the most out of what any city dweller might dub "limited resources." Though I do love the city, I am surprised to say that I had an amazing time in Denmark's south and west.

After a long weekend in Western Denmark, I was absolutely thrilled to return to my Kollegium and to be back in the city. Copenhagen is officially home, and I like it.

I Bought a Toothbrush, Some Toothpaste

I cannot tell a lie. Doing laundry here was a bit of a nightmare. One of the driers in my building does not work, but it was not labeled and it let you pay for use anyway. That was annoying. But there is of course one saving grace - great detergent.

On a separate note, I'm off to western Denmark for a long weekend. It is integrated with my program, so I will not be missing any classes. It should be really interesting to see what the countryside is like - the places that we are visiting are supposed to be very rural, and nothing like Copenhagen.

Many Mansions

Here in Copenhagen, I live in a housing option called kollegium - a Danish dormitory. This is where many students, both Danish and international, opt to live during their time as university students. There are about 40 Americans from DIS living here, as well as international exchange students and young Danes.

My building, Keops, is basically a complex of studio apartments. Each room has a single occupant. We get a bed, a desk, two chairs, a kitchenette, and our own bathrooms. There are larger communal kitchens in each block, which are equipped with ovens and a more suitable space for cooking, but each room has two burners and a small refrigerator/freezer. It is really not a bad deal, and with some creativity, you can practically host a gourmet meal (if you are willing to use the term very loosely).

My room has a a large window and a smoking porch (though if you want to help me feel classy, we can call it a balcony). My view is of a bus station, a train station, and a field where the gangs in my neighborhood have their drug war. The trains come frequently, but I've gotten used to the noise. And thanks to my view of the street, I can always tell if I'm about to miss the bus in the morning.

My desk is decently large, and offers plenty of space to store my books in the lack of shelving. I have a cute little chair in the corner, which is good for curling up on and reading/pretending to read and just looking out the window.

My bed is not its usual green hue, since I could only bring so much with me, and sheets were provided. But The person who lived here before me did leave a pretty cool and convenient mirror decoration, so it makes my room look a little more exciting and carefully put together.

In general, my room is pretty hygge. It feels like home, with my shoes all over the place and a makeshift nightstand. Soon enough I'll add some more color and personal flavor, maybe something more than this Danish beige color.

Pacific Distances

One of the strangest parts of being abroad is that I'm not home. This weekend is Labor Day, the ceremonial last weekend of summer before students return to the halls and classrooms. As my friends all return to their respective universities, I'd like to take this time to be nostalgic, miss my friends, and share a bit about my life back in New York.

While I have many amazing friends (many of whom are reading this), I'll share a bit about a time-honored tradition: Anti-Social Lunch. It started on a Tuesday last fall, when my friend Amy (of Baking and Mistaking fame) and I would have a bi-weekly lunch date in the NYU Kosher Cafeteria. Our dear friend Sarah had once expressed her reluctance to eat lunch there, since she was afraid she would not have any friends to sit with. We were fast to invite her, and lunch was a success. And so, a tradition was born.

When Sarah went abroad last spring, we had a small farewell gathering. When Sarah returned I was in Montreal, but she and Amy celebrated on their own. A few short weeks ago, Sarah was leaving for Kazakhstan and I was getting ready to leave for Copenhagen. So the occasion of numerous departures warranted a reunion/good-bye party, which obviously meant a delicious dessert.

It is definitely strange to be in a different city, and to hear many of my friends complaining about the imminent start of classes. But I'm already settled and excited for more adventures in wonderful Copenhagen. Though I might have to wait awhile for my next exciting cake, it will be well worth it.

Plays it As it Lays

It seemed like the line at the coffee shop would never end. After my friend and I finally got our orders, we rushed to the building where out next class was to meet. We climbed up the narrow spiral staircase that dates back to the 18th century, and huffed and puffed as we reached the fourth floor. The classroom door was closed. And outside? A newborn baby.

My professor for "Health Beyond Borders," Amy, recently had a baby. Though she is entitled to 14 weeks of maternity leave, she still opts to teach our class (and take those stairs since there are no elevators in the building). Last time her husband (who was entitled to two weeks off from work for paternity leave) had the baby, but today her daughter joined us. The baby was a bit cranky so Amy spent most of the class outside the class room, but it was not the end of the world. We still went through class with the help of the program assistant, and even formed groups for our major semester project.

Amy opened the class by saying that even though the situation may seem unusual. In America, I doubt that we would often see a baby in a class room, except in extenuating circumstances or a planned visit. But in Denmark, the importance of family and children makes it completely acceptable, and even normal.

Times Mirror Square

Americans love a lot of things - football games, hot dogs, people with accents. But we also have a very traditional concept of lifetime milestones. You graduate high school, go right to college, finish in four years, and hopefully spend a semester or year abroad, so you have the opportunity to do some traveling on Mom and Dad's dime. After graduation, it is time to get a job or continue to graduate school. Everyone should have a plan, an agenda.

But for Danish students, it is very different. Last night, I attended an orientation for Danish students who are planning on studying abroad in the United States. I learned a great deal about the Danish idea of being a "young adult," and got to see the differences between the life of young Danish students and my own higher education experiences.

The typical Dane becomes independent at the age of 18. If you still live under the roof of your parents, chances are you will be paying them rent. Many people work part-time while in school, and it is not unusual at all to take gap time for travel and exploration. But, once you get to uni (as they call it), you specialize immediately. There is no general education or liberal arts curriculum. You go for a specific topic, and spend an average of three years completing your undergraduate work.

I always thought that studying abroad we a mostly American idea - send your kids to Europe so that the can drink even though they are under 21, and let them have some adventure time before they need to get serious and move into the rest of their adult lives. But Danish people study abroad as well.

The group that I met last night was a large delegation to Barnard College, uptown from my home university, NYU. They are coming to the States for a variety of reasons - more advanced classes, the opportunity to see New York and explore a different continent, to decide if they want to pursue a higher degree overseas. They study abroad for many of the same reasons we do - we just think it is strange that they would be so eager to come spend a few months in America, of all places. For us, Europe is exotic, a far-off land with sexy accents, chicer fashion, and a much richer cultural history. We romanticize what lays across the Atlantic Ocean, and create a fantasy about diving into a world of jetsetters and magically becoming more fashionable and classy.

But it works in reverse to a certain degree. Europeans also have ideas of stereotypes that may exist in our country. I met a Danish fellow who asked what my favorite line dance was, since he has been to a bar outside of Chicago that had line dancing on Tuesday nights. One of the girls who is going to Barnard looked at me very seriously and asked, "All I know about Americans is from America's Next Top Model. Is that really bad?"

Maybe it is kind of bad. But we're no better. As one of the speakers at the orientation said that the whole purpose of studying abroad is to expand your cultural horizons and to prepare yourself for the global world that we live in today. This is when I realize that Europeans are real people too, and this is when Europeans realize that I'm not a cowboy, nor am I particularly rowdy at sporting events. Networking with international students is a way of noting and learning to explain the differences and similarities between different groups of people, and fostering understanding and knowledge, rather than furthering ignorance, when addressing the international community. This is really proving to be an excellent opportunity to get to know people who not like me, and yet really not so different after all.