[bri-abroad]

Berlin

2/23/18 - 2/25/18

Friday

Lucky for me I have the good influence of Maya Stoller living with me in my home. I knew I’d be leaving Friday afternoon and not working out for the weekend, so I got her to run with me before our 8:30 together Friday morning. We woke up at 6 to go on a run to the nearby beach. Lucky us because the sun was rising, and it was the best possible start to a day. We ran a bridge over from the place we were going to turn around just to soak up the sun a little longer. We got home on cloud nine, made our morning oatmeal and coffee, and were off to psych of human sexuality. I had my suitcase in hand, so then I was off straight from Vestergade to Lufthavn. Lufthavn to Germany.

First stop off of the plane was to our hostel where Sam was waiting [Sam is one of my best friends from Kenyon studying abroad in Berlin]! He convinced us we had to try döner, so that was our first meal after metroing to Kreuzberg. I was able to meet Rachel’s friends from home who were meeting us there for the weekend from Amsterdam (studying abroad there) and the States (visiting on their Spring break from University of Michigan). What a crew.

Next we made our way to the Holocaust Memorial. On our way we saw lines on the ground where the wall used to run directly through the city, so we hopped from side to side-- AKA East to West Berlin. From the outside, the Memorial was odd and a little underwhelming. The repetition of the stones was a little much and I wasn’t sure really where to focus my eyes.

All the stones were a little unsettling, but then as you walked in between the stones, an optical illusion ensued. All of a sudden you were multiple feet downhill and looking around in a maze of varying sizes of dark columns swallowing you up. I felt uneasy and the vibe was very ambiguous, which is what (I think) was the point. From the outside things seemed like they couldn’t get that deep and that dark, which is sort of what I took away when comparing it to the onset of World War II and Hitler’s regime. 

Directly underneath was a Museum, so we walked through it very slowly and  on our own terms. I’ve learned about the Holocaust and WWII many times before, but after going through the Memorial, I had been primed with an entirely different feeling and experience while reading the stories of countless Jewish people and families directly underneath the columns of stones.

When we finally emerged from the doors of the Museum and made our way to the street, the sun was setting. We walked to the Brandenburg Gate at peak timing (secret: it was all on accident). The sun was on the horizon directly underneath the quadriga. 

People were playing music in the center of the plaza, so naturally I started dancing with a friend because it seemed like the only thing that possibly could made sense.

That night we enjoyed a delicious Vietnamese dinner. “Monsieur Vuong” somehow had seating at dinner time for a group of 7 Americans who hadn’t made a reservation. I enjoyed red wine surrounded by red walls and people I had just met thanks to a friend I had known for a month but felt like a lifetime and a friend from home was there to enjoy it with me. That run on is necessary because it was all very overwhelming and crazy and made no sense but all the sense in the world. There I go again.

We googled bars around Berlin and randomly picked one. The location it gave us led us to underneath a bridge in the middle of the metropolis of Berlin. There were no street lights and seemingly nothing to be found. We made our way to a street light around the corner, and an older man was outside smoking a cigarette. We asked if he had heard of “Tousend”, and he hesitated before rolling his eyes and pointing to the dark spot underneath the bridge.

“No sign” he muttered.

Against all better intuition, we decided to check it out again. Upon second inspection, a metal rectangle was carved into the stone of the underpass. I knocked. My friends laughed. Eyeballs peeped out of the center of the metal door, and then the door slowly opened. The guy on the other side wouldn’t open it all the way and asked if we knew where we were. We all stood there a little speechless but hesitantly said the name of what Google Maps had promise, and we somehow ended up convincing the guy that yes we were in the right spot and yes we knew that it was all older people inside and (the most important) yes we were willing to pay a cover and check our coats. The last part was my doing and I will let you know they were a little mad at me at first, but COME ON this was something that never happens. My travel writing Professor would have a stroke if I didn’t seize the opportunity.

After my friends begrudgingly paid their euros and handed over their coats to a slender woman wearing all black and heels, and we made our way into easily the coolest bar I have ever had the pleasure of seeing. We were incredibly underdressed and definitely not cool enough to be there, but I could care less. We made our way through smoke clouds until we found a corner where I observed all of the 25-30 year old young professional posh Germans. Again. Way too classy and hip for us, but it was an experience I will never forget. 

After we had enough of the smoke and feeling like outcasts, we left and ironically made our way to Currywurst One right near our hostel. Classy. Posh. I can assure you no one else from that bar made there way to a curry spot after their afternoon at Tousend.

We were happy nonetheless. 

Saturday

Thanks to my unforgiving internal clock, I woke up promptly at 8 am, and I was sick as a dog. Sidenote: I haven’t been fully healthy since being in Copenhagen. The days leading up to Berlin I was pretty ok, but my sinuses were not forgiving on this Saturday morning. Anyways I couldn’t breathe and my eyes were swollen shut so I took a hot shower until my friends woke up. Another side note: the hostel did not provide towels. I used my bed sheets.

Breakfast:

After breakfast we went on a free walking tour.

The wind was a bit much, so after hanging with our very cool and sweet tour guide from Israel (wish I knew his name) for an hour and a half in the cold, we dipped from the group. Once Rachel saw Rausch, the oldest chocolate store in Berlin, staying the rest of the tour was a lost cause.

After sampling enough dark chocolate to satisfy my soul, we decided to check out the East Wall murals. I iced Sam with the help of Laura by the waterfront. For those who don’t know, icing is quite the trend among us kids these days. I decided to get the urban dictionary definition of it and include it here:

Icing: (V). The act of drinking a Smirnoff Ice on one knee as fast as you can, following the presentation of the 'ice' in a clever manner.

Anyways it’s a dumb thing that is a lot of fun to plot and plan. It sounds weird but my heart was so so full watching Sam, one of my best college friends, get on a knee and chug the Ice while people I barely knew but was sharing some of my best experiences with were cheering him on. 

After browsing the murals and feeling sufficiently freezing, we all needed a little pick up. What better way than with warm wine? Que the cutest bar I’ve ever been to “Mein Haus Am See” (so not the most Posh but definitely the most hipster/cute). Sidenote: I have not been to that many bars but I promise these are going to be hard to beat.

My dear friend Rachel was sufficiently drunk from her single glass of mulled wine, but it made us realize it was nearing 4 and we hadn’t eaten lunch. We again went to a spot near our hostel but because it was pretty authentically German and near homebase. I had vegan chili.

After about 2 hours of hanging out there, we all were about to fall asleep. Berlin’s going out culture starts at midnight and doesn’t get dance/club fun until about 3 am. Not my thing. I was exhausted. I convinced everyone we would enjoy it a lot more if we took a small hiatus, so we all crammed into the hostel beds that 4 of us were staying in and napped/talked/looked at memes for an hour and a half before realizing we hadn’t had dinner.

We made our way back and got ready. The club we went to was on water that you could see through the windows spanning 360 degrees around the dancefloor. It was called “Watergate”, and you had to know the name of the guy djing that night in order to make it in. Luckily the kind guy at the front of our hostel mentioned this earlier when we talked to him, so after standing in line in the freezing cold, we did somehow get in and crisis was averted. After making friends I didn’t share a language with, I can safely say I danced until I physically was too tired and probably too sick to keep doing so.

We didn’t leave until 4 AM, and that was when some true Berliners were just getting started. I’m not kidding. Luckily we were too American for that and made our way to another döner place. As we left at 4:45 in the morning and were making our way to the hostel, I thanked the Universe that I was 20 years old and able to be in Germany, dance until my body hurt, be with the down-to-Earth people I was so randomly put together with, and still able to eat Turkish kebab as the sun was starting to rise (probably not even, but I will ride that one out for as long as I can).

Sunday

HAHA. So not surprisingly I woke up feeling way way worse on Sunday. I still of course was first to rise and made everyone get up and ready to leave after remembering you had to be out by 10 am or pay a late fee. They weren’t happy.

A brunch at Factory Girl fixed that problem. Saying bye to new friends was weirdly sad and hard, but I promised I’d try to see them again by visiting Michigan in the Spring of my senior year.

On the plane ride home my heart was very full.

So was my head.

Flying when there is that much gunk behind your eyes is painful and my palms were sweaty as we descended and I questioned whether or not my ear canals could actually burst or not, but thinking of my home in Cope and the roommates I was going to see that had been in Prague the past weekend kept my heart happy. 

[bri-abroad]

Valentine’s Day

Wednesday was Valentine’s Day, and it was also the day I was asked to a hygge-filled dinner by a young Danish couple!! I’m only 20 years old and I can’t safely say I will ever have as unique of a Valentine’s day ever again, so I guess this is where I should tell you what happened.

I applied for a “Visiting Host Family” through DIS and was matched with Tonje and Peter. They’re 40 (or somewhere very close) but seem like they’re my age in the best ways possible. After reaching out, I was a little surprised that they chose the next Wednesday as the day we should meet and have dinner. It was Valentine’s Day, they seemed like a young couple, and they were inviting an American college student into their home for dinner? Well luckily Danish people got the memo and realized the Holiday isn’t really real, so they didn’t even realize it was a holiday at all.

We had plans to meet at 5 in Nordhavn at the 7/11 right outside the S-train. Yes it was incredibly simple, but I still was terrified I’d be late and make a bad first impression. That translated into me being a half hour early, holding a bouquet of flowers (thought it was a nice sentiment?), in the freezing cold, being stared at by the 7/11 cashier as if I were going to somehow steal something from outside the store. Morale was low for a while, but I paced around and played through the many different ways the evening could go in my head until I heard a “Hej?”, and it was Tonje!

She of course was a pretty blonde woman with bike at hand. What surprised me though was that she went straight in for a hug-- Danish people could be friendly and physical?! A few minutes later she would reveal she was actually Norwegian, so the answer to that question is still up in the air. Anyways she led me through her neighborhood, with construction on every corner, explaining that she promised this was a nice neighborhood and “being upgraded”. As soon as we got onto her street I believed her. It was a row of apartment-style homes next to one another and I had yet to see something like it in Copenhagen. The fronts were all glass and had their own little terrace-garden on the side, as well as a garage space for a car. It was really nice. Before we got inside I asked how she pronounced her name, and she looked a little confused but replied how we would pronounce “Tonya”. She countered with asking me the same. I looked a little confused and replied like how you would say the cheese.  

Her boyfriend’s name is Peter. He introduced himself with a handshake. He’s Danish. I marvelled at the “What would Neil Young do?” poster in their living room as Tonje poured us red wine that didn’t cost a mere 40 kroner. Birk and Nils (4 and 1 ½) ran around and stared at me like I was a martian as I spoke English. She gave me a tour of upstairs: the kids’ rooms that looked like they were out of a catalog, her and Peter’s bedroom, and “Peter’s room” full of records, guitars, and techy gadgets. By the way-- Tonje and Peter are married for all intents and purposes, but marriage isn’t as common here as it is in the States. There’s no sort of financial benefit, and the purpose is just to get a piece of paper and say you’re married, so a lot of people just stay “girlfriend and boyfriend” and start families.

We had pesto pasta with lamb and sausage, plus a salad made of cabbage we don’t have in the States with avocado and tomato. Tonje poured more wine and talked about how she had always dreamed of visiting America. Peter had been once to New York City when he was 20 for business. I had to show them Cincinnati on a map. We talked politics and family histories and life and music and went through two bottles of wine and a liter of beer.

I’ve realized Danes have a paradoxical relationship with the States. They simultaneously romanticize and condescend America within the same conversation. Danes listen to all American music and watch American shows etc., yet they also love to shit on it. I have found myself doing both too; I have so many things I wish I could change about my country, but it’s also where I was born and grew up so I feel some sort of responsibility to defend it.

5 hours from when Tonje picked me up and a few glasses too many, I found myself stumbling out into the streets in an unfamiliar place with red cheeks and a happy heart. I felt bad asking Tonje to walk me back to the metro so it’s a miracle that with 7% left I made it home. Emily had chocolate cake waiting for me. I have plans to meet Tonje next week already. More to come!

[bri-abroad]

Flesh and Blood Assignment

I’m enrolled in a Travel Writing Class and this was our first official short assignment. The prompt was, “Find a person in Copenhagen with an interesting story to tell”. I wrote mine about a Field Study I had for my Psych of Human Sexuality class. We had a Walking Sex tour of Copenhagen two Wednesdays ago. Below is my assignment. I thought I’d share since it was a cool experience and because I might as well share my Travel Writing on my Travel Blog! 

“Denmark used to be very Christian and very Protestant. Until we forgot about it.” Her name was Nina. A grey beanie meagerly attempted to suppress wild ringlets of hair running amuck underneath. Her rampant brown curls were traced with thin grey strands that mirrored the wrinkled lines sketched in the creases of her eyes and corners of her lips; there was wisdom behind her craze. 

She laughed as she explained the neuroticism behind Americans’ conceptualization of sex and sexuality, but her laugh slowly subsided as she further explained its current influence on modern Denmark. American ideology had begun to infiltrate perceptions of nudity that had once been free-reign throughout the streets of Copenhagen. The only nude women nowadays were either “Leftist or old”. She assured us she identified with the latter.

I had been in Copenhagen for three weeks now, and Nina was my guide to the history once alive in its streets. Our first stop was to the longest running Pornography shop to date. As we approached, she began to say, “It can’t be. It can’t be.”

It could. It was closed. She stared into the windows of an empty shop window as I tried to imagine what sorts of things could have been sold inside. As an American college-aged student, I wasn’t really sure what a Porn shop would even include in its retail. I blushed as my imagination wandered.

She turned around after moments of reflection and said that it must have closed within the last month. Her black rimmed glasses weren’t quite squares nor symmetrical rectangles, and they took up most of the room on her face. Abruptly she turned and led the way Northward and up the street. I admired the short and colorful buildings to my left and right. A white building with three windows and blue door was on my left; a green building with one big window and yellow door was on my right. I tied my scarf a bit tighter as a sharp gust of wind pushed past Nina’s loose curls and into my face.

The wind carried Nina’s voice with it, and from bits and pieces I gathered she was going over the history of prostitution and Copenhagen’s levels of acceptance towards it. “I’m actually registered to be a legal prostitute you know”, she laughed. She laughed a lot. As she laughed I watched her tongue piercing, a smooth white ball, bounce up and down behind jaggedly crooked teeth until she covered it all with her black mittens as if to apologize for her own humor. It was because it was all very provocative. Not just her humor, but her words that were bringing to life the history around her.

If you’re wondering, she wasn’t actually a prostitute. She owned her own business where she gave a variety of tours on various topics-- all on the streets and about Copenhagen. Her passion for this place that I was starting to call home was contagious, and I was beginning to see the world as if I were behind her asymmetrical-wide-black frames.

Her business, Nerd Tours, was classified under “Personal Services” in the government’s registry. Although she laughed when she said she was a registered prostitute, I couldn’t help but wonder if when she hid her teeth she was also hiding the fact that there was some truth in it. Had she ever tried it out or engaged in those sort of sexual acts? My adulterated bias subsided as I thought that she very well could have in her past, or Hell, maybe even now.

Nina gave the once frowned-upon occupation a new face, and I appreciated all that she stood for. She was genuine and unapologetically true. I admired the way she knew her facts and knew herself and her city. She represented the original Copenhagen, and me being there all of a sudden felt a little wrong. I was very much a product of my culture, and as I traversed Nina’s streets, I felt as though America lingered in my wake. The sentiments of my real home were permeating the perceptions of sex and sexuality that had once been free reign throughout these streets, and I wanted to preserve Nina’s Copenhagen.

Nina pointed to Copenhagen’s oldest church to our left. It’s red brick was topped with a faded copper roof turned seafoam green. With a swift gesture she lifted her right hand, left hand still pointing left so that both arms were out like posts springing out of her sides, to point to a sticker of a penis on the back of sign to our right. Behind the sign was Copenhagen’s street famous for gay bars adorned with rainbow color flags. Somehow I was standing in the middle of the Old Copenhagen and the New. She said what she had said at the beginning of our tour, “Denmark used to be very Christian and very Protestant. Until we forgot about it.” Was it starting to slide more to the middle again thanks to the consequences of my culture back home?

[bri-abroad]

Core Course Week

Everyone has a “core course” at DIS and are also enrolled in random elective classes they choose. This past week was “core course week”, but my house and I call it “kokos week” instead because that’s how many of our native Danish teachers pronounce it. My core course is Positive Psychology which meant I was doing the coolest things possible during my kokos week (I guess I’m partial just because I’m in the right class and the things interest me but still). 

Monday

On Monday we had a lecture from a woman working for Gehl Architects in Copenhagen. Gehl is an urban design and research company that is made not just of architects but also psychologists, sociologists, and social science workers. Their goal while designing cities and urban landscapes is to make them as livable as possible, and they do so by putting people first. We learned about how built environments affect people’s well-being and how urban planning can contribute to the the flourishing of a city’s inhabitants. The founder of the company, Jan Gehl, travelled the world studying people and design and culture. He has written books on built environments and what people have in common across cultures, and his company came after realizing urban design put livability after the steps of the physical space and how buildings look. I learned SO MUCH and never had thought about how humans are natured beings, so the environment we are in influences our behavior/ how we perceive and feel about the world. Anyways, we walked around Copenhagen and talked about the different projects around the city that Gehl had launched. A lot of structural things in Cope make sense compared to back home, which could contribute to why they’re “the happiest place in the world” even when it’s grey and freezing outside. Hygge is definitely being promoted on the fundamental level of physical space. We finished Monday off with DIS treating us to lunch at the Glass Markets and then watching a documentary called “Happy” to talk about what really makes people happy. Hint: a lot doesn’t make sense with the way we are pressured to live our lives. This is initially why I was an Anthropology minor! We need to take a more critical look at the way we live and the way society is funnelling us into different paths of being and living!! But I digress.

Tuesday

Dorthe Pedersen spoke about Cycling Without Age , which is a volunteer organization that connects bikers with people mostly of old age (but also with disabilities of any age) so that they can get those people out and about in rickshaws to explore outside. Basically the whole premise centered around active citizenship and how both the biker and the passenger benefit from the ride. A really really cool lady and organization. Why aren’t we doing more as a community back in the states regarding people in nursing homes? Not only are they ‘stuck’ in the same place all day every day which is undesirable to anyone, but it is also really important that people continue to make memories and see different environments. Something I have come to find in my own life is that the only thing that really matters in this world is social connection. Strip everything down to the bare bones and this is the only thing I feel as though I undoubtedly know and believe in. Relationships with people are what matter. Cycling Without Age facilitates connection between people who normally may not otherwise and bridges age gaps in a really cool way. We watched a video where Dorthe and the original chapter in Denmark biked 15 people from a nursing home to Norway and it was incredibly inspiring. The benefits both parties walked away with weren’t able to be measured.

Afterwards we split into groups and traversed the streets to survey well-being in Copenhagen. My group decided to measure satisfaction as a function of communal involvement just because operationalizing happiness is so incredibly hard. We used likert-scales alongside a few demographic questions and went to places we thought other students would be, as they would be most likely to answer our survey (not great for a study but, alas, this was just an activity). We went to Studenthuset and I found a coffee that wasn’t 5+ dollars!! Quite the find here in Cope. We talked to some Danish and international students, and then made our way to a library. Our wording “extra-curricular activity” tripped up a lot of Danes who had no idea what that could mean, whereas that’s what students live by in the States. It just signifies the cultural difference where Danish people don’t feel pressured to build their resumes with “extra-curriculars” and many said they didn’t participate in any. Their sports or hobbies they didn’t consider something to report as an extra-curricular. Anyways we didn’t really find much to report because there were so many third variables at play, but speaking to other Danish students was really cool. They’re not as terrifying as they stoically appear.

Thursday

Wednesday we had off, but Thursday was my favorite day! We took an early bus to Aarhus. Naturally, I couldn’t fall asleep for the 4 hours, but I was able to talk to Lake (because the girl doesn’t sleep I swear), listen to music, and write a bit while admiring the Danish countryside. It was very therapeutic. We got to ARoS Museum and had 2 hours to explore it on our own. I can’t stress how COOL this museum was. I love love loved it. It’s set up by floor, so the bottom is the “Inferno” and the very top is the Rainbow Panorama. The floors in between are all their own theme as well. I started by going to the very bottom and I worked my way up. Let’s just say 2 hours was not enough. It is such a beautiful museum; the art as well as the museum itself and the curation. Too much to say and too much homework so I will just place some pictures.

After the museum we made our way to Cabinn Århus to drop our stuff before going to the local school of Art & Design. We all took an hour long class drawing a nude model. It was an experience I don’t think I ever would have had if it weren’t for the class (well that’s the theme of the week actually). I was a little nervous because I have no artistic ability and also because we would all be staring a naked woman for an hour, but the hour went by too fast and honestly everyone has artistic ability. We were given a stack of papers and 2 pencils that everyone had to keep sharpening, a model that kept changing positions after allotted amounts of time, and an artist that led us in different prompts: as fast as we could of the outline, of the shaded body, made of solely lines, left-handed, both-handed, and my favorite-- the blind contour. After shading in for minute intervals and the way-too-cool artist instructor lurked past me, I had a gold star moment. SHE PICKED UP MINE to show the class. I must admit it felt really nice for her to affirm me in some sort of way, but the point wasn’t to make something beautiful and she didn’t even pick mine because it was “the most beautiful”. If  you went in with that mentality it was frustrating and unsuccessful, and separating your right and left side of the brain was when drawing became easy and fun. I had no expectation of myself and it worked out for me. The blind contour was especially good at making you think differently because you weren’t allowed to look. Your logical thinking was forced to take a back seat. You couldn’t analyze what you were doing and critique yourself, but instead you were able to get lost in your creative self. I am not entirely good at this but it is so important and rewarding, especially so in our modern world where “logical reasoning” is supreme and creativity is put to the back burner. This is always something I return to thinking about and it’s hard to know when you should rely on one versus the other. Anyways we were able to talk to the model after about what it was like to be her and about her experiences. She didn’t seem nude when we were drawing her she just seemed like an art piece to translate onto paper, and we talked about that as well as body positivity and nudity in general. HUGE CULTURAL DIFFERENCES. Why does America sexualize everything? Why do we make things so taboo? I will never understand this. We make things a lot harder for ourselves by suppressing things that are extremely natural. We had an open-table set up conversation-- us American students and the Danish artist, model, and Professor-- about what it was like to grow up with different cultural expectations and experiences. It was really really cool.

DIS treated us to a nice dinner at Grappa. While mostly everyone enjoyed a fat bowl of ravioli, my main course was a chicken salad because of the whole no dairy thing (ugh), but the wine, dessert, and bread basket was enough to leave me satisfied.

After Kamilla (my Professor) left us with saying she was moving the start time the next day to 10:30 from 8:30 so we had ample time to go out and explore Aarhus, we all reflected again on cultural differences. Relationships are so open in Denmark. All of our Professors insist we call them their first name, yes even those with PhDs, and they casually talk to us about drinking and going out and want us to do so in order to experience culture. Anyways we were pretty tired and unable to fully make the most of the night life and later start time, so we just went to a pub and got a cheap beer. Outside of Copenhagen things are a lot more natively Danish, and I loved watching the people there watch a soccer game and drink beer and laugh and speak Danish. It was really fun. I was home by midnight, which was also really fun (haha).

Friday

Friday we were sent off into the streets to engage in “random acts of kindness”. Kamilla gave each group some kroners and we were advised to do as many different acts as we could. My group bought a bouquet of flowers and we handed out roses to random people. We got mixed responses: a lot of smiles, some confusion, and one woman who shielded me from her son as if I were giving him a knife. That rejection stung haha but I’m not sure I wouldn’t do the same thing on a bad day in the future. Danish people are also just very blunt. Anyways we also wrote notes in Danish and put them in people’s bike baskets, paid for the next person in line at a coffee shop (which ended up being an old man who smiled and looked around trying to figure out who did it), and we reflected on anonymous versus known acts of kindness. We decided  that kindness just varies on a lot of levels, and also that we wanted to do something for people we knew. We decided to reach out to people from back home. A couple people messaged an old boss or Professor etc. I texted my Uncle (hi if you’re reading this) because we hadn’t talked in a while and I thought about him a lot, and I emailed my favorite Professor from Kenyon. It is so common for people to think about others they care about and never reach out and let that person know they’re on their mind and important to them. It’s easy to forget or not realize you’re not verbalizing your appreciation. A lot there but also a lot more to talk about.

We had lunch at Århus street market and it was my kind of place. There were a bunch of authentic vendors inside a cozy industrial building [side note if I had the resources I would open one of these up in Cincinnati, and if someone reads this and does, lets do this thing]. We sampled everything basically before deciding what to actually buy. A girl and I decided to both get one thing and split, so we collectively enjoyed a giant falafel pita and Ugandan rolex. Experience was life-changing (kidding but not), and we left way too full but extremely content.

Next that day was visiting Volunteer Center Århus, which was a non-profit volunteer interest and network organization. The biggest thing I took away from this was again just the cultural difference. We have volunteer requirements in the States in order to graduate and designated “Volunteer days” on top of the pressure of resume building with volunteer work. Denmark has none of the same sentiments. People say they volunteer in order to meet other like-minded people, and people volunteer in areas they feel passionate about. The only downside in Denmark is getting more people to think volunteering is necessary because the government already gives a great amount of social support to its people; tax money already is supposed to take care of a lot (not the same in America).

That night we travelled to our next temporary home: Hotel Skanderborghus. It was a cottage-type retreat of sorts and my room was furnished with two big pillows and a giant blanket!! I felt like I was back in the States. DIS treated us to a buffet style dinner that the chefs of the Hotel prepared just for us. I had 5 different meats… a salmon salad, some pork, veal, chicken, and something unidentified in a Danish dish but delicious. As if we hadn’t eaten enough, we went to the basement to have an assortment of desserts and play charades. We all wrote down different things on strips of paper and put them into a fish bowl. No one wanted to go first and we were all sitting there awkwardly so guess who found themself standing in front of everyone with a flushed face? I don’t know why I always feel obligated to step in at times like that but it’s without consciously deciding to do so, and I found myself staring wide-eyed at everyone before Kamilla said, “Ok, one minute, go!” My face deepened in color, but thankfully I realized this was a competition and instinct took over. I turned that quickened heartbeat into a charade-flow and blacked out for the next minute, walking away with 8 pieces of paper and therefore 8 points for team 1. Did I feel again like an elementary school kid receiving a gold star? Maybe. After a few rounds and my team losing, Kamilla went to bed and the rest of everyone decided to play the X-Rated version. I went back to my roots and followed my teacher’s suit by going up to shower and be alone for a half hour before my roommate joined me (whoops). Something I have come to solidify over this trip is that I’m an introvert with extrovert tendencies. In other words, I get most of my energy from being alone, but I also am very social when in group settings. I can’t explain it. I just know that I needed that hour to be alone and reflect so I took it. It was lovely.

I have spent way too much time on this post so I’m going to close it rather fast.

Saturday

Saturday I spent at a co-housing property called Svanholm in Skibby. Again, there is just so much to say about this place. It was made up of 50 adults, 20 kids, and 20 temporary visitors. They had a shared economy (yes that means all of their money was put into the same bank account) and also shared a lot full of cars and bikes and such. Each family was responsible for cooking one meal every month as well as doing dishes every month, but other than that they had chefs that prepared all of their food. Svanholm actually basically created the word organic and was the first place to give organic produce to supermarkets in Denmark. All of the food they eat there today is from their farm for the most part. They have a communal dining hall, and they also have a democracy where they vote on how things run, rules, money allocations, and the direction of the place. It was mind boggling and I’d love to say more, but I truly can’t at the present moment. Ask me about it sometime if you’d like.

There you have it folks. My core course week in a nutshell. I am so much closer to my class now and I love them all. Going to normal class today felt a lot different, and I can’t wait to travel with them to Budapest in April for our study tour!

Feeling thankful,

Bri

[bri-abroad]

Edinburgh

I went on my first trip this past weekend! My housemates and I made plans to all travel together after knowing one another for a mere week. We sat down and very randomly Edinburgh became our destination. We bought plane tickets before we could change our minds, and despite all odds that it wouldn’t work out, we had a very successful weekend trip in Scotland.

Friday night (February 2nd) we arrived and the sun was setting. Copenhagen had been grey overcast for the past week, so seeing color was OVERWHELMING. My friend Laura and I seriously almost had tears looking out on the beautiful Scottish countryside in the golden hour of sunset. We stumbled out of the plane and we joked that the rays of the sun were burning our eyes and skin. We hopped into a cab, which we were able to ask for in English (so nice), and we made it to the Airbnb. 

Our running joke has been that we are “guy’s girls” (yes it is supposed to be sarcastic), and the building had “Boys” above the door, so we felt right at home. Not only was the place aptly named, but it was also right around the corner from my friend Will from highschool who was studying abroad there and also from our dinner-- Holyrood 9A (according to the GoogleDoc I made prior like the type-A person that I am). We met Will there, and I enjoyed the best chicken sandwich I have ever had as well as fries and a beer. What a guy’s girl.

Peep Rachel eating in the background

Peep Emily in a pre-food coma

Saturday morning we had plans to do Arthur’s seat at sunrise. Let’s just say that after a night out in Edinburgh, that did not happen, and we decided to nourish ourselves with a nice brunch instead. We went to a place called Spoon and stayed way too long laughing and talking. After peaking out the window and seeing the streets of Edinburgh, I realized we had a lot of exploring to do. We decided to wander the streets and stray from the GoogleDoc a little.

We walked on the Royal Mile and I bought some silver rings from a little shop (@Abby if you’re reading this, I got you one ;)). The streets are SO quaint, and I was falling in love. Copenhagen is beautiful, but Edinburgh had a very different feel to it. When you walk in Copenhagen you know you’re in Europe and you know it’s old and has history, but it’s definitely a modern city. Walking in Edinburgh was like walking in the 16th century. 

That's when we ran into Duke Ellington: a cowboy interrupting my daydreaming of people in kilts playing bagpipes. He was a street performer and 5th generation whip maker wearing assless chaps. He ended up calling Emily to the center to hold his jacket as he whipped random targets (of course). Fast forward 5 minutes. He’s wearing a blindfold, about to whip a 2 inch target another person was holding between their hands, and Morgan was called up to give him a kiss. There we were in the streets of Scotland, and Morgan was kissing a cowboy in assless chaps.

After the show was over and we had no money to give poor Duke for his performance, we made our way up to the Edinburgh castle. The outside of the castle was worth it. Paying 17 pounds was not worth it. I was expecting something like from Princess Diaries where Anne Hathaway shows us her closet and Julie Andrews is wearing a crown on a thrown. It was rainy and we didn’t get to really go inside anywhere. After standing in line for 40 minutes to see a crown and the “stone of destiny”, I was met with a dark room, a guard, and a slab of rock that looked like concrete on the side of an American highway. I actually was crying laughing and the guard was looking at me like he understood exactly why I thought the experience was underwhelming; the poor guy had to stand there all day. The crown was dull. Ok I sound rude and I’m being a bit harsh, but it was a hilarious experience. I won’t forget it, but not for the reasons I believed as I bought my ticket to enter. Pro tip: see the castle, but don’t pay to “go inside”.

Afterwards we continued to wander until we ended up in the Grassmarket. Rachel was determined to have a “high tea” experience, but everyone was losing energy from our nourishing brunch. The hangover was setting in. We took a quick hiatus in the Scottish library, and after settled for a cafe and enjoyed scones with jelly and hot tea. 

Back at the Airbnb I took a freezing cold shower because I had no idea how to work the water. That woke me up. Will was watching the Arsenal game at a nearby bar so I convinced everyone to go and chill before going out later again that night. I have grown to like IPAs in Abroadland, so I got a volcano IPA, watched Arsenal win, bothered Will because it was nice to see him, split a veggie burger with Rachel, and then us girls decided to check out Devil’s Advocate because Yelp said it was worth the money. It was down a cobblestone alleyway and as soon as I walked in I felt way too young and inexperienced. The 6 of us tried to appear like we knew what the drinks were on the drink menu, and I chose one with Scottish whisky because #WhileInScotland I guess? It was a great start to the night. 

Sunday morning we actually made it to Arthur’s seat. It worked out well because it was sunny and beautiful versus yesterday’s rain. The slope was a little slippery from that rain, and I’m glad Emily didn’t wear her thigh high going out boots (sigh), but the view at the top was incredibly worth it. We did a little photo op, Will and I made it to the bottom and waited for the rest to make it (a theme of the hike haha), and we grabbed burritos before saying goodbye and heading to the airport.

I have to say I was very sad leaving behind Edinburgh. I’m still not sure if I love it just because it was my first trip or if it will end up being my favorite at the end, but Scotland is magical!!! I promise you there’s just something really special about it. Very underrated. Scottish accents don’t even sound English and I’ve decided they’re way better than UK accents. Plus the people are so so nice. Danes are very reserved (the stereotype is NOT a myth), but in Scotland the streets were loud with music and laughter. The people made you feel like they were neighbors in a sense, and I will forever remember that and the feeling I had walking the streets.

[bri-abroad]

A Morning of Leisure and Failed Metro

This morning I woke up early in order to have time before class to enjoy breakfast and “kaffe”. I couldn’t decide between wearing my thickest grey sweater or a nicer black blouse, but after a big bowl of oatmeal, I decided to go cozy with my heavy sweater. I snuggled up in my black scarf and gloves, put on my headphones, and was out the door. Listening to my early 2000s playlist (so good) and enjoying a lovely morning stroll to the metro, I reflected on how quickly I had mastered public transportation (it is so easy). 

Once on board I continued to enjoy my morning while indulging in my daily-people-watching-on-the-metro when suddenly the doors at Kongens Notorv, the stop before Norrepørt and my class, wouldn’t close. Now that I thought about it, they had actually been open for a few minutes now. Muffled in the background I began to hear a Danish woman speaking over the intercom. Obviously I had no idea what she was saying but I understood that we weren’t moving, and my blissful escape to the early 2000s had set me back the 5 minute cushion I allowed myself in order to get to class on time. After precious seconds of standing there watching people get off and disappear into “Kongens Notorov”, I decided that I could either stand there dumbstruck or follow the crowd.

Out in the open and clearly not the right place in Copenhagen, with 10 minutes to get to class, I quickly realized that I had not yet mastered public transportation (it is still so easy though). I fumbled through my notes to find the address of my class and used the citymapper app to realize I was going to be 17 minutes late to Psychology of Human Sexuality. My power walk as I was punching things into my phone had been in the wrong direction. I looked up and realized I was at Nyhavn. This is the nice part of the story actually:

But after I snapped that picture I realized I had wasted more seconds. Class ETA was now 8:48. 18 minutes late. I looked around and realized I had two options. Option one: give up and stroll around? This was the second actual class and the professor specifically said we had “one unexcused absence or we failed the class”. K, next option: run through central Copenhagen on the main shopping street (Strøget) with my backpack on. I am sort of proud that I was able to look around and with a shrug decide to look like a crazy person. So off I ran, taking option two, past people’s stares and past the Burberry, the Zara, the Gucci, and the two H&Ms among many many others. I nearly cried when I finally got to the opening square, Gammeltorv, recognized by my new and frequented friend “Maxburger” on the corner. My class was up ahead. Once I reached the glass doors of the building, I had to get to the third floor, which may not seem like much, but what would be the first floor in America is actually floor “0”. So after almost a mile run and four flights of steps, I burst into the doors of Psych of Human Sexuality. Panting. 8:31 though! My friend had saved me a seat! In the middle of everyone. So I shuffled past person after person, took off my coat, scarf, and gloves while imagining how silent it had been before I got there, unzipped my backpack (oh my god why is that so loud?), and swiped out my notebook all in clear sight of everyone. Sweat immediately began pouring from what was already my sweaty head because of the temperature difference between the warm classroom and Copenhagen morning air, so I decided to not really move anymore. My thickest grey sweater was like an oven, but I was just focused on breathing normally again.

I woke up early this morning in order to enjoy a leisurely morning but ended up with something very different. Wearing my thickest grey sweater was not the move, but I did get to see Nyhavn bustling with bikers in the morning. I did get to marvel at the stores on Strøget while passing by, and I did learn a new route to Maxburger if I need it late night. I was only a minute late, and I may have been sweating profusely throughout class, but again I have learned that you can’t always plan for the metro to stop working. Some things are way out of our control, but you can control the little things. Like snapping a picture even though you’re stressed out of your mind or making sure to at least take in the new surroundings around you as your thrown off path.

A closing note: I will be getting a bike very soon. I can control never having to rely on this “very easy” transportation for an 8:30 ever again. Also, I have many pictures to share of the last 10 days so more to come!

[bri-abroad]

ARRIVED!

It’s Tuesday here in Copenhagen and 17:20 o’clock. I quickly know that means it is 5:21 back home, but getting used to military time is the smallest of things to talk about from my first few days in Copenhagen.

After my flight changes and minor freakout over arriving late to my housing, I did eventually make it to the CPH airport. DIS wasn’t waiting for me because I arrived after the allotted time period, so I wandered until I found baggage pickup. Minutes passed of me watching bags that were NOT mine pass by. I had just accepted the fact that my new luggage was somewhere lost in the upside down when MY LUGGAGE POPPED OUT and turned the corner of the conveyor belt into my eager arms. A woman nearby smiled as I visibly relaxed and gave a hardy “pat on the back” to my suitcase. I decided to stop expecting the worse.

After next exchanging US dollars for DKK and finding the row of taxis outside of airport, I somehow was peering out of a moving car into a foreign land that would somehow become mine over the next four months. It was simultaneously unsettling and beautiful. I didn’t know whether or not to speak to the driver or not. While moving throughout the airport I very deliberately was mute in fear of exposing my American identity. The silence finally surpassed comfortable, so I decided to tell the driver it was my first time in Denmark. His English was a little broken as he tried to carry small conversation until we made it to the address I had pointed to in my notes page marked “Copenhagen Address”.

After wishing me luck in my new world, he drove away leaving me in front of a black building among all red brick ones. I had no key. I had no phone that would work in this alternate reality. I knocked but no one could hear. The location was hidden in an alleyway. It was night time. No one was around. I turned around wearing a heavy backpack with a carry on and checked suitcase at both hands. I suddenly felt very very small looking out into the black sky, and I actually spoke out loud telling myself to not cry. The Copenhagen wind carried the words away and tears started to form. So much for not expecting the worst I thought. As soon as my tears became heavy enough for my vision to become blurred and fuzzy, my back immediately straightened and I entered into survival mode. This is not where things end, and you WILL figure this out… thank you brain.

After waiting for someone to come by for what felt like precious days, I made my way to the nearest public building: a bar. Standing outside Whammy bar on an actual street corner, I waited for the first, and unsuspecting, Dane to pass by. Poor guy. I was able to use his phone to contact my “Social Resident Advisor” (SRA) Teresa. Thank you, Bri, for putting her number in your notes-page while still having access to WiFi in the airport, and thank you Teresa for coming and finding me-- you are my savior.

Anyways after a tumultuous journey and losing years of my life I made it to my home, the Culinary LLC/ theme house, where 7 girls were eating pizza. I must have seemed deranged as I stumbled in disrupting the peaceful “get to know you” talk session before occuring while profusely thanking Teresa for picking me up from the “street corner outside of a bar”. My face was pink from both holding back crying and the cold Copenhagen night. Good first impression.

Since Saturday night I have been through another whirlwind of events. I am happy to report that it has all been uphill from that night on Whammy’s corner. On Sunday I made my way to the mall where I found “Flying Tiger” which is sort of like Denmark’s version of Target. Needless to say I fell in love and walked out with things I didn’t realize I needed. I made my first trip to “Netto” which is a supermarket scattered throughout Denmark. I can see one from my living room’s tall industrial-style windows. Side note: my apartment has 15 foot ceilings and is industrial/minimalist styled; it is perfect. Another side note: bringing someone with you to try to translate Danish food products is essential (like Teresa... find yourself a Teresa). I’ve explored the streets of my neighborhood, Amager, and also the central streets of downtown Copenhagen. I found the classic colorful buildings every tourist posts of the city at Nyhavn. 

I’ve basically mastered the metro because it is BRILLIANT (only one piece of proof that Denmark is so smart, I swear) and so easy to use. I’ve enjoyed red wine with new friends that already seem like old ones. I’ve even made my way back to Whammy’s and this time on my own terms in order to seize back my autonomy. My housemates and I have decided it will become our regular place-- afterall, it’s basically the first place you can find near our house (remember?).

In these three days I have already fallen in love with Copenhagen and am so excited to live here for the semester. It may be painfully windy or rainy at times, and the sun may have only peeked out for an hour’s time thus far, but I am beginning to understand why I have only heard good things about this place. I’m excited to share all that is ahead, but until then, I have fajitas to make with my housemates!

[bri-abroad]

The In-Between

In my last post I was sitting in a sea of suitcases and now I find myself in the same situation... only a little different. This time the sea of suitcases are mine along with strangers’ suitcases. 

I’m sitting in the airport on my departure day. Am I departing? Of course not. Life always finds a way to challenge you. A huge winter storm has affected a lot of cities and now my flight is delayed. The delay means I’m missing my connecting flight, so I had to switch around my itinerary. I am now flying to Munich and will be late to Copenhagen. As I sit in Cincinnati looking out the window at runways being blanketed by quickening snowfall, I can only dream of being in Munich for a three-hour layover drinking a beer while people-watching foreigners on the way to their next destination. Can you tell I’m trying to find the silver lining? I asked to be challenged in my last post, so I guess this is just the Universe listening. 

As far as disasters go this is a minor one though, and I am still going to get to Copenhagen at the end (knock on wood). You know when sticky situations arise and as long as you get out of them fine you can look back and laugh or use it as a good story? I’m currently in the thick of one of those situations yearning for the next step so I can use this moment to my advantage. Here is to rough starts and new beginnings! 

PS- if you’re reading this and I’m not yet in Copenhagen, wish me luck. I’m finding the silver lining but NOT against a little help along the way ;)

[bri-abroad]

Pre-Departure

I’m sitting in a sea of suitcases and clothes trying to conceptualize myself in Europe for four months. It’s Monday, and in 4 days I will be boarding a plane to take me 4,291 miles away. I recently found out I will be living in the Culinary Living and Learning Community, which means I will be living with seven other students that maybe love food as much as I do. I feel incredibly luckily to be saying these things, but I have to admit I am way more nervous than I anticipated back when I applied to DIS. “Abroad” is no longer a far off fantasy that I daydream about when I’m bored. Physically packing up my things and staring at my luggage has pushed “abroad” out of the fantasy realm and into the now. I will be in Denmark this weekend. *ensue chills and a quickened heartbeat*

Going to college is not comparable. While packing up for college, I knew exactly what my campus looked like, knew I had a soccer team of automatic friends waiting for me, and I at the very least knew the language we would all be speaking. I have never been to Denmark, I’ve never lived in a city, and have you ever tried to learn Danish? I have tried, and instead of absorbing anything, I spent an hour and a half scrolling through Youtube videos laughing at  how impossible it sounds. The one thing I have easing my anxieties is that my program is full of American students all (hopefully) as wide-eyed as I am.

Before I board a flight and take the plunge into Copenhagen, I want to take time to think about what I want from the experience in front of me. I know it will fly by and I want to get the most of it. With that in mind, here are some things I want to focus on:

Not always having a plan. I want to be able to stumble into things and explore places naturally. I have the unfortunate tendency to stress over minute details when attempting to “get the most” out of things, but that can suck out the fun and limit you. Sometimes loose preparation could mean walking on a street you wouldn’t have otherwise and finding something you didn’t even know to look for. I plan on walking a street over from time to time.

Talking to people I wouldn’t normally talk to. This goes for Americans and Danes. I have heard the Danes are stoic by nature but also very kind. Instead of being intimidated, I hope to every now and then talk to the person alone at a cafe or next to me on the metro. As for people on my program, I want to strive to reach out to people I wouldn’t instinctively reach out to back home. It’s easy to fall back on assuming you know who you’d connect with when in reality you never really know.

Travel!! I want to make the most of living near so many incredible countries while also not forgetting to experience all there is in Denmark. I want to feel as though Copenhagen is my home, and if I’m gone too much I may miss out on that. I’m not sure where I will go, but I made a bucket list of my top places as of now. Check it under Travel.

Learning about the culture of places I visit. This means trying to learn some of the language and talking to people who live there. It means not always focusing on hitting the touristy spots to feel as though I’ve visited a place, but rather trying to tap into the way people there look at life in attempting to understand a place. Side note: I plan on keeping a running list of favorite words in other languages that I will update in Favorite Words.

Taking pictures and posting weekly on this blog!! I want to be able to remember this semester as vividly as possible. I also want to use blog posts as a time to reflect on my adventures and on myself. I want to avoid being sucked up into the whirlwind I’m sure I will be thrown into and instead consciously ride the wave.

Making time to be alone. This ties in with others. I want to do a solo travel trip to prove I am able, but also because I want to be comfortable enough to be alone! You know when you’re alone somewhere you “should” be with company and you feel like everyone is staring at you weirdly? Yeah, I want to rid myself of that. I want to like spending time with myself enough to actually do it-- and do it unapologetically!! When you’re left with the silence of yourself, you are able to reflect and learn about yourself. Here is to taking myself on coffee dates and hopefully a (safe) solo trip somewhere TBD.   

Overall I want to avoid falling into patterns. Routine is comfortable, but it keeps you from real growth. I want to feel uncomfortable. Change is good and I want to experience as much as I can. I have no idea what this semester has in store for me, but after months of fantasizing I’m ready to find out!

[bri-abroad]

Travel Bucket List

Amsterdam

Italy

Greece

Spain

Dublin

Germany

Norway

Croatia

[beautiful-copenhagen]

Winter is approaching Copenhagen, here is a view from Christianborg Slot a couple of years ago.