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.

Black Coffee in Bed

The Danes have a concept known as "hygge," which lies central to their entire culture. I'd heard the word defined (coziness, as well as the absence of things that are annoying and the presence of comforting, gentle, and soothing things) and thrown around at various points. I think that today, I finally began to understand it.

After classes were over, I wanted to go somewhere to do some reading. I know that if I get into the habit of reading in my room, two things will happen. I will:

1. be unable to sleep because my bedroom (and probably my bed) will have become a place of work; or
2. be unable to focus, and thereby stop doing my school work.

While I have been trying to forget that I actually have classes this semester, I do have to get things done and not let my grades suffer. And this was a good excuse to do some exploring on my own. So I embarked on a journey to find a quiet cafe where I could sip a relatively inexpensive beverage and read some of my class assignments.

I decided that I would take the bus towards Trianglen, an area where I had gone last week to get my Danish equivalent of a social security number. I walked for awhile, trying to find the perfect place. I settled on a cafe table in an open square. I read successfully for awhile, but it was uncomfortable. The chairs were a strange plasticky wicker of sorts, and the table wobbled ever so slightly. The wind kept sweeping through the open space, and I got a bit fed up. So I walked around a bit more until I found a different coffee shop.

When I walked in the door and felt the warm aroma of coffee fill the air, I had a feeling that I had entered the correct establishment. I ordered a mug of hot chocolate with whipped cream, and climbed up a set of winding stairs to find big, black leather couches waiting for me. As I settled in and cracked open my book (about plagues and pestilence, no less), I realized that this place was really hygge. I had never been to this cafe before, and I definitely did not want to be doing school work when the calendar still read August. But I was cozy. All I could think was, "I totally get it now." I got why this is so important to Danish people. When it is windy and drizzling and the skies are gray, you just want to sit somewhere nice, somewhere without distractions, and without anything to make you feel anything less than comfortable. All you need is some hygge and good company, and you are good to go.

Run, River

My first weekend (not to mention my first full week) in Copenhagen is drawing to a close on this breezy, sunny Sunday evening. I spent my weekend socializing, touring the city, and exploring what it is to live like a Dane.

On Friday afternoon I went on a boat tour of the canals. I felt like a huge tourist, but I have to admit that the view of the city from the water, glowing softly in afternoon sunlight was really lovely. We saw a lot of tourist sites, including the famous Little Mermaid statue. Which, by the way, was not as large as you would think. It is actually tiny. And you can basically walk up to it and touch is (or decapitate it like has happened before). There were a bunch of spots on the tour where I had already been, and a lot more that I did not even know existed. I got a lot of good ideas for future photo ops and excursions for when I feel like being a tourist again.

The rest of my weekend involved exploring Copenhagen nightlife. DIS (the program that I'm on) rented out a club for a big "end-of-orientation" party. It was surprisingly entertaining. They played Michael Jackson songs, and bad music from the '90s. People were blasting music in the streets, but the most popular selections were by ABBA. A lot of the people wandering about were American, and very obvious about it ("OMG in America they totally don't have places like Viking Bar!"). And yet there was such a charm about it. Blasting old Swedish pop music is really endearing. And the '90s throwbacks weren't too awful. There were plenty of Danes. Maybe next time we'll go places that are a bit less touristy. All in good time.

Today was a very quiet day. Most things are closed on Sundays in Copenhagen, thanks to old laws that mandate which businesses can open and close at what times. It was quiet and much like a New York Sunday, though I could not go shopping and spend my hard-earned money. Even though there was not a lot to do, it was the kind of quiet day, perfect for walking and wandering, that you need every so often.

Rock of Ages

Even though I'm still pretty sure that this is vacation and that I am certainly not going to school, classes have surprised me with a sneak attack. They started bright and early this morning (8:30 a.m.?!). However, the first day went remarkably smoothly. I reached each class on time, and had no difficulty finding the buildings. The topics (Healthcare in Northern Europe and Health Beyond Borders) are similar enough that they compliment each other nicely, and there are several people in both classes.

The actual buildings where classes are held are very old. The classrooms feel like sitting in a building in colonial Williamsburg or in old Philadelphia. The glossy paint coats the floor squeak when you slide your chair back, the windows with thick glass panes seem to be painted shut as the result of restoration and maintenance, and the stairwell up to the fourth floor is twisting and rickety - it felt like going down a slide and one misstep could have sent you down on your back. And yet there is something so charming about these less than state-of-the-art facilities. It is part of the charm of studying abroad and of being in a medieval city - stuff is old.

Where I Was From

The past few days have been a whirlwind, but I am thrilled to say that I have been in Copenhagen for a solid two and a half days. After a smooth flight to Reykjavik then to Copenhagen, after registration and orientation sessions and introductions, and after a short bus ride, I arrived in my new home, the Keops Kollegium. I'm living in a single room, with my own bathroom and a kitchenette. (I'll post pictures once I am completely unpacked and settled). There is a decently large group of Americans living here, and we're already forming our own community in our building.

Copenhagen is gorgeous. It is a mix of medieval and modern. Winding cobblestone streets are lined with stores like Gucci, Chanel, and H&M. Modern glass buildings are across the way from old row houses. Pedestrians battle bicyclists and cars and buses on the roads (and bicyclists tend to win). This city is a different world.

These past few days have been full of typical orientation activities - opening ceremonies, guides to living in Europe and with Danes, and a scavenger hunt designed to help jump start the process of getting to know a brand new city. I have spent plenty of time getting lost, trying to read maps, and trying to make sense of completely foreign street names. I still can't pronounce the street that I live on, but maybe our Danish survival lessons will help that matter.

The overall atmosphere at DIS right now is just like freshman year. Fall is in the air, with crisp breezes and warm sunlight bouncing off the old bricks. Everyone is trying desperately to make friends and find excitement. We all talk about where we're from, where we go to school, and what classes we're taking. We speak with excitement of the adventures just around the corner, and exchange numbers so we can meet up later. Everyone is a little bit lost but trying their hardest not to be. But soon enough everyone will have settled in, found a routine, and find their own place in Copenhagen.

Good-bye to All That

Today marks my last full day in the United States for the next six months or so.

Tomorrow night, it is off to Denmark, with a stop in Iceland.

It seems like summer has flown by so quickly, like months escaped me (or maybe just washed away with all the rain and humidity). I finished my internship, and have spent the past two weeks shopping, preparing various and sundry papers and arrangements, and getting used to the idea that I'll be on foreign soil for awhile and away from here.

I'll miss New York. I'll miss the sauna of the subway platform, the tiny hole-in-the-wall coffee shops, the way that fountains in parks are lit up at night. I'll miss the way that tourists always look up (and then look upset when a midtown suit rushes past them in a flurry of phone calls, e-mails, and business lunches). I'll miss the noise of Union Square traffic at unholy hours, the way that the Manhattan Bridge looks from Chinatown (and vice versa), and the colorful people that you see everywhere.

These minute details can be overlooked so easily, but it is these very things that make New York, well, New York. But perhaps the thing that I will miss more is my life here. To be dreadfully cliche, a lot of people that I care about will be far away. I'll miss my family, my friends - the world that I have here. But now it is time for a change, to travel, and to fall in love with another city.

Next time, from Copenhagen,

Ariel