Plane Jane

Hi, I'm Jane! I studied abroad in Copenhagen, Denmark during the Spring 2018 semester. Here are some of the adventures!

[planejaneblog-blog]

Reflections.

One Friday afternoon in Copenhagen, I visited the Adventurer’s Club of Denmark with my Travel Writing class. The Adventurer’s Club of Denmark, nestled amongst the houses and restaurants of Nyhavn, has existed for 80 years. Its members are explorers and pioneers and trailblazers. There, we spoke with Vice Chairman Bjørn about his recent book, which detailed his journey from Denmark to Bosnia on-foot. When asked what would compel him to walk over 1,000 miles, Bjørn quoted travel writer Don George, “The more you travel, the bigger the world becomes.”

One of the reasons I decided to study abroad was the size of the world. There was so much out there I had yet to see.

This semester I visited 12 countries (If you count Vatican City). I saw the Eiffel Tower and the Colosseum and the Széchenyi Thermal Baths. Yet, the world has never felt bigger. There is still so much to see.

My semester abroad is not the end of my travels. Rather, my semester abroad has shown me the beauty of travel — its transformative effects.

Since I have arrived home, my family has said I am different — more confident, definitely more talkative. I too feel different. My time abroad has changed me. It was a change that happened in small moments— as I cooked dinner with my friends in the kitchen of Store Kongensgade, rode the bus to class at 8:00 AM, got lost amongst the cobblestone streets of Copenhagen. Moments so small I didn’t even notice as the change happened. 

I have been home for one week. I have adjusted back to Pacific Standard Time. I have eaten a lot of Mexican food. Yet, home doesn’t feel the same as it once did. Perhaps this is because I now know how much is really out there.

It is a wonderful thing to know.

The world is a big place, bigger than I once knew. It is full of interesting places and interesting people and interesting stories.

This particular story has come to a close. It was a rollercoaster of a story, full of up’s and down’s. I met wonderful friends and ate delicious food and saw beautiful art and conquered a few fears along the way. I made a home in Copenhagen, a city that will always have a piece of my heart. It was an amazing story. Thank you for reading it.

Here’s to the next story.

See more scenes from my semester abroad here!

[planejaneblog-blog]

The Bilbao Effect.

One of the best opportunities I had this semester was the opportunity to travel alone for the first time. I traveled to Madrid and then onto Bilbao in order to see Frank Gehry’s Museo Guggenheim Bilbao.

I had dreamed of visiting Frank Gehry’s Museo Guggenheim Bilbao ever since I took a Contemporary Architecture class my freshman year of college. In this class, we learned of Gehry’s Deconstructivist architecture. Deconstructivism is a style of postmodern architecture that began in the United States in the 1980’s, characterized by an absence of harmony, continuity, or symmetry. In his Deconstructivist architecture, Gehry confronts conformity with chaos. He creates buildings that are living, breathing, alive.

I was seven the first time I saw a Frank Gehry building. My father took me and my brother to the Walt Disney Concert Hall, which had just opened in Downtown Los Angeles. Even then, I was mesmerized by the massive curves of stainless steel, the light that reflected off of silver surfaces. I chased my brother through the maze of metal and soon became lost in the architecture.

In a sense, I have never become un-lost. Since my visit to the Walt Disney Concert Hall, I have traveled to numerous Frank Gehry buildings in Los Angeles, from his personal residence in Santa Monica to a parking structure he designed in 1980. When I was in Paris several months ago, I even saw his most recent building, the Louis Vuitton Foundation. Yet, I had never seen his masterpiece — the Museo Guggenheim Bilbao. Although, I had once read that its beauty had brought architecture critics to tears.

Spring Break presented the perfect opportunity to visit the Museo Guggenheim Bilbao. I booked a plane ticket to Madrid, which is a six-hour train ride from Bilbao.

Of course, my friends thought I was crazy.

Why would you travel six hours each way just to see a building?

Yet, to me, the Museo Guggenheim Bilbao was more than just a building.

I could not convince any of my friends to join me on my journey, for which I did not blame them. I was, however, able to convince my parents to allow me to travel to Bilbao alone. Thus, I embarked on my first solo trip.

I soon found myself in the Madrid airport. Yet, as I stepped off the plane, I was gripped with an intense panic. I began to question my ability to travel alone. Could I really do this? That night, I fell asleep in my assigned hostel bed with my wallet pressed close to my chest.

The next morning, I decided to explore Madrid. I was too nervous to walk around by myself so I signed up for a walking tour run by my hostel.

On the walking tour, I began to talk to a girl named María. We were drawn to each other as we were two of the only Americans on the tour. María lives in Oregon, but she is originally from Mexico. She recently earned her Bachelors degree in the States and plans to go to graduate school next year in Spain. María told me about the past several weeks she had spent touring schools throughout the country.

After the walking tour, María and I spent the rest of the day exploring Madrid together. As we parted ways, she wished me luck on my journey to Bilbao the following day.

My six-hour train ride to Bilbao was filled with screaming children and Spanish couples exhibiting too many public displays of affection. As we pulled into Bilbao-Abando at 10:00 PM, I couldn’t wait to get off the train. In the train station, I met my Airbnb host, Yolanda. Yolanda was an older Spanish woman, small and thin. I had booked a night in the spare room in her apartment. Yolanda led me through the train station and out into the streets of Bilbao.

There, a Holy Week procession was taking place. Men in strange costumes paraded through the streets. Music came from somewhere far away. Yolanda did not stop to look at the procession. Rather, she weaved through the crowds with dexterity. I had to walk quickly in order to keep up with her.

“Do you speak Spanish?” she asked me.

“Not really,” I responded.

“Then why are you here?”

“I am here to see the Museo Guggenheim Bilbao.”

She nodded. As we walked, we spoke to each other half in English and half in Spanish.

“How long have you lived in Bilbao?’ I asked her.

“Since I was born,” she told me.

“How do you like it?” I asked

“Bilbao is all I know. I am a single mother and I have a son with special needs, so I don’t travel often.”

Yolanda then told me that she has seen much change within Bilbao over the past several decades.

In 1991, the Spanish government partnered with the Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation in order to built a Guggenheim museum in Bilbao's decrepit port area, once the city's main source of income.

The Solomon R. Guggenheim Foundation selected Frank Gehry as the architect. When he was selected, he was told, ‘Mr Gehry, we need the Sydney Opera House. Our town is dying.”

Frank Gehry accepted the challenge. He created a structure reminiscent of the boats that once docked in the Bilbao harbor — constructed of titanium and stone and silver curves.

The Museo Guggenheim Bilbao opened on October 18, 1997. Within its first three years, nearly four million people visited the museum. The revenue earned from these visitors more than paid the building costs.

Overnight, Bilbao went from a dilapidated port town to a bustling cultural destination.

It is what journalist Rowan Moore calls “The Bilbao Effect.”

I awoke the next morning with knots in my stomach. Today was the day I was  to visit the Museo Guggenheim Bilbao. What if it didn’t meet my expectations?

I left Yolanda’s apartment, walked along the Ría de Bilbao, crossed the Puente Zubizuri and there it was — the Museo Guggenheim Bilbao and its silver curves.

As I walked closer to the building, I became consumed in swathes of people. Tourists took photos. People sold art on street corners. A man played saxophone to passerby. The streets of Bilbao, once dilapidated with the disappearance of industry, were now humming alive.

Since the opening of the Museo Guggenheim Bilbao, numerous cities across the world have tried to copy the museum's success. These cities want their own Bilbao Effect. Yet, as museum director, Juan Ignacio Vidarte has said, “The project was not about the building.”

The Museo Guggenheim Bilbao did not cause the Bilbao Effect. Rather, the Bilbao Effect was caused by the people of Bilbao themselves — people like Yolanda, like the man playing saxophone, like those selling artwork on the sidewalk.

It was the citizens of Bilbao that turned their city into a bustling cultural destination, not Frank Gehry.

I walked around the exterior of the building, examining the famous metal curves. These metal curves were not unlike the ones I had seen all those years ago in Los Angeles. Yet, it wasn’t until I saw these curves that I realized what I was truly searching for on this journey: my own Bilbao Effect — some inherent change.

Travel writer Pico Iyer once wrote that travel “shows us all the parts of ourselves that might otherwise grow rusty.”

We travel to find some piece of ourselves.

I had traveled to Bilbao to see The Museo Guggenheim Bilbao, but perhaps I had also traveled to Bilbao to find confidence in myself. 

Yet, as Thomas Browne wrote in Religio Medici, “We carry with us the wonders, we seek without us: There is all Africa, and her prodigies in us.”

Perhaps what we search for in our travels has always been inside us. Perhaps we just need to find it.

Throughout my semester abroad, I have traveled to numerous countries across Europe. These travels have changed me immensely. Yet, it was not the cathedrals or the palaces or the art museums that changed me. Rather, it was the journey itself — the planes and trains and missed connections. The journey instilled confidence within me that I am capable of travel, of uncertainty, of overcoming obstacles.

It was here, in front of Frank Gehry’s masterpiece — metal curves humming alive — that I found my own Bilbao effect.

[planejaneblog-blog]

My Favorite Spots in Copenhagen.

As my days in Copenhagen come to an end, I find myself struggling to find time to complete everything on my bucket list. There are only so many hours in the day to climb to the top of churches and parliament buildings, to sample every Danish delicacy, to picnic in each and every park.

Of course, it is unrealistic to expect myself to have explored every inch of Copenhagen in a semester. Although, I have made an effort to explore as much as possible. I have thus compiled a list of my favorite spots, which hopefully you can add to your own bucket list. 

1. Designmuseum Danmark

This small museum is located just blocks away from Amalienborg Palace. It contains exhibits on Danish international design and crafts. I particularly enjoyed the exhibit on the history of the Danish chair. I would highly recommend this museum, even if you don’t know much about design. You will learn a lot and get to see some pretty cool pieces of furniture. Plus, entry is free if you show your student ID!

2. The Botanical Garden

Located in the centre of Copenhagen, The Botanical Garden is a great place to walk around. The garden contains more than 13,000 species of plants, 27 glasshouses, and numerous ponds. The most notable of the glasshouses is the old Palm House. I would definitely recommend walking through the Palm House and climbing the white staircase to the top for a really cool view. Plus, entry is free!

3. The Tower, Christiansborg Palace

At 106 meters high, the Christiansborg Palace tower is the highest tower in Copenhagen, and it offers an amazing view of the city's rooftops (And a great photo opportunity). Plus, it is free to access the tower!

4. Kastellet

This public park is both beautiful and has an interesting history. Kastellet was constructed in 1626 by King Christian IV of Denmark in order to guard the city’s port. It was constructed in the form of a pentagram with bastions at its corners. Today, Kastellet remains one of the best preserved examples of star fortresses in Northern Europe. The property belongs to the Danish Defense Ministry, but the grounds are open to the public. It is the perfect place to talk a walk on a sunny (or cloudy) day. Plus, it isn’t too far from the Little Mermaid statue.

5. Church of Our Savior

There are many beautiful churches in Copenhagen, but the Church of Our Savior is my favorite due to its tall, golden spire. For 40 DKK (with a student ID), one can climb the 400 steps to the top of the spire. The view is absolutely amazing, especially on a sunny day.

6. Louisiana Museum of Modern Art

This art museum is a 45-minute train ride outside of Copenhagen. But, the trip is definitely worth it. There, one can see modern artworks from many famous Scandinavian artists as well as from artists around the world. My favorite piece was the Kusama installation, “Gleaming Lights of the Souls,” which consists of a room where the walls and ceilings are covered with mirrors, the floor is a water mirror, and you are standing in the middle of the water on a platform. Entry is 100 DKK with a student ID.

7. Conditori La Glace

Copenhagen is known for its many delicious bakeries. Conditori La Glace, however, is a must-visit. Conditori La Glace is the oldest confectionary in Denmark, founded in 1870. The confectionary offers a variety of pastries, cakes, coffees, and teas. I ordered a slice of the Dahlia Layer Cake. It was absolutely delicious! I also ordered a cup of the hot chocolate, which was equally delicious and so rich. Definitely the best hot chocolate I have ever had. Overall, I paid 150 DKK for my meal, which included a refill of hot chocolate. While Conditori La Glace is a little pricey, it is worth it for the experience and, of course, the taste.

Of course, this list barely scratches the surface of all there is to do in Copenhagen. These are just some of my favorites. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go check more things off of my bucket list. So many things to do, so little time!

[planejaneblog-blog]

Photographing Rikke.

“Hi I’m Jane. I’m a photography student. May I take your photo?”

I remember the first time I said these words. It was a cold afternoon in January. I approached a young man who worked at a hot dog stand on Strøget. My hands were shaking. My stomach was in knots. The young man agreed. I took several photos. I then asked him for his name — David — and thanked him for his time.

I remember how I felt as I walked away — like I could do anything. It was a feeling I had never had before. On that cold January afternoon, I felt on top of the world.

Photojournalist Diane Arbus once said, “My favorite thing is to go where I’ve never been.”

This semester in Photojournalism has definitely taken me where I have never been.

I enrolled in the course with little prior experience. I simply hoped to learn how to take better photos. Instead, I learned much more valuable skills. I learned how to talk to strangers, chase stories, and step outside my comfort zone.

I have always struggled with anxiety so talking to strangers was my worst fear. The more I did it, however, the easier it got. Through my photojournalism assignments, I had the opportunity to meet so many kind people on the streets of Copenhagen.

One such person is Rikke. For our final assignment, we were instructed to use photojournalism to tell a story about a Dane. From the beginning, I knew I wanted to photograph an artist. I just had to find one.

I then discovered Rikke’s artwork through a Culture Trip article titled, “10 Emerging Street Artists from Copenhagen to Know.” Rikke’s artwork immediately stood out to me in the way that it combined reality with fantasy and intertwined important societal issues. One week later, I met Rikke for coffee at a cafe in Nørrebro. We discussed what life is like as an artist in Copenhagen. Rikke told me that monetarily, life as an artist can be difficult, but it is worth it as she is able to do what she loves.

Rikke discovered her love for painting in 2013 when she painted her first mural at the Student House in Copenhagen. Since then, Rikke has studied art in Copenhagen, Oslo, and New York City. In addition, her artwork has decorated numerous public spaces throughout Copenhagen.

Over the past two months, I have had the pleasure of photographing Rikke as she painted, shopped for brushes, and wandered through the art galleries of Copenhagen. I have come to know someone who is truly passionate about their profession — a rarity in today’s world. I once asked Rikke if she ever gets nervous before she paints. She told me, yes, she does. It is something she must overcome every time she picks up a brush. Doing what you love takes courage. Yet, Rikke has shown me it is a risk worth taking.

On Monday, I had the opportunity to display my photos at the DIS Showcase. This event was the culmination of a semester of work.

[planejaneblog-blog]

Living History.

I followed our tour guide through a narrow alleyway into a small courtyard. As we walked, my classmates and I looked around inquisitively. Why did our tour guide take us here? The courtyard was nondescript — nothing special. Apartment buildings surrounded the small outdoor area. Grass grew through old red brick.

Our tour guide then pointed to the wall next to us, “This is believed to be a remnant of the wall that once surrounded the Warsaw Ghetto.”

Suddenly, the nondescript courtyard took on new meaning.  

This meager, brick wall once imprisoned over 400,000 Polish Jews within a small 3.4 km² area. From this area, Polish Jews were deported to Nazi camps and mass-killing centers. After the Warsaw Ghetto was liquidated, the area was destroyed. The Nazis tried to hide their crimes, which obliterated Warsaw’s once thriving Jewish population. Yet, this meager, brick wall survived.

Throughout my six-day study tour, I was met with many moments like this one, moments of living history. We saw ghetto walls in Warsaw, Poland and bunkers in Berlin, Germany. We saw the historical remnants of cities heavily affected by war and political conflict. Often these remnants were small, easy to miss: a bullet hole in the side of a building. Yet, these small historical remnants continue to maintain importance in the current political dialogue.

Throughout our study tour, we met with locals and heard how they grapple with their countries’ past. These individuals told us of the strong ties between their past and present.

As a Californian, I was surprised to encounter these moments of living history. The suburb where I live was blueprinted and planned only several decades ago. The natural landscape was wiped clean. Imperfections were erased. Even painting one’s house requires adherence to a given color scheme.

Yet, the residents of Warsaw and Berlin encounter their history every day. It is not a stale history, contained between dusty pages, but a history that is ever-present.

As we left Berlin, a 500-kilogram World War II bomb was discovered beneath the city grounds. This discovery led to the evacuation of an 800-meter area, which included the city’s main train station. We worried that this discovery would disrupt our travel plans. Yet, the bomb was diffused in less than three hours. This occurrence has become normal for the residents of Berlin.

In both Warsaw and Berlin, residents continue to confront their history. It is a history contained in bullet holes and cracked walls and unexploded ordinances. It is a history that is still very much alive.

My core course, Competing Narratives: Modern European History, has been leading up to this study tour all semester. We have discussed in-detail the competing narratives contained in the cities of Warsaw and Berlin. Yet, it wasn’t until we stood on hallowed ground and witnessed this living history that I truly understood the importance of these competing narratives.

[planejaneblog-blog]

Building Bridges.

This week, I had the opportunity to attend a webinar at UN City. UN City is the regional headquarters for the United Nations and houses 8 UN-agencies and more than 1,000 employees from more than 100 countries. My friend, Hedvig, is one of those employees. Hedvig works in the Migration and Health Program within the World Health Organization, an agency of the United Nations. Hedvig helped organize the webinar I attended, which focused on the healthcare of pregnant migrant women and newborn children.

Going into the webinar, I did not know much about the topic. Yet, I was soon educated by the three expert panelists — Birgitta Essén from Uppsala University, Ines Keygnaert from Ghent University, and Nino Berdzuli from the World Health Organization Regional Office for Europe. The panelists explained that pregnant migrant women generally have poorer maternal health outcomes than native-born populations, and their needs are often unaddressed. These poor maternal health outcomes are largely due to suboptimal access to or utilization of prenatal care.

After addressing the problems facing pregnant migrant women, the panelists discussed ways in which the European healthcare system could improve to meet the needs of these patients. Many possibilities were discussed, including better access to interpreters, specialized training for doctors, and general policy reforms.

Scandinavia has historically been an insular region. Yet, the region has faced an influx of migrants within recent years. For example, in 2014, Sweden welcomed 165,000 asylum seekers— more per capita than any other European nation. This influx of migrants has caused many Scandinavians to re-examine their healthcare system.

It was Swedish professor Birgitta Essén who stated that we must “build bridges” in order to solve these complex issues.

We must build bridges between cultures. We must work to better understand the healthcare needs of these pregnant migrant women.

Several days later, I am still thinking about my visit to UN City. The webinar was extremely impactful and thought-provoking. It was inspiring to see so many people working towards meaningful change. I would definitely recommend visiting the building for a tour if you have a chance!

[planejaneblog-blog]

Concerts in Copenhagen.

All my friends and family will tell you that I love concerts. I love seeing my favorite musical artists live, surrounded by my fellow fans. There is something wonderful about concerts, a renewing energy of sorts.

I have been lucky enough to attend two concerts in Copenhagen.

The first was a Daniel Caesar concert in February. This concert was at the DR Koncerthuset. The venue was absolutely incredible. But more incredible was the performance by Daniel Caesar. His lyrics are so moving and the smaller crowd made the whole experience even better. I also enjoyed hearing what Daniel Caesar  had to say about Copenhagen as it was his first time performing here. He called the city “efficient,” which made everyone in the audience laugh.

The second concert I attended was a Typhoon concert. Typhoon is a small indie rock band from Portland, Oregon. Typhoon also happens to be my favorite band. The band hasn’t toured in years. In fact, the last time I saw them was in 2015 in Portland. Thus, I was pretty bummed when I missed their Los Angeles date. Then, they announced a Copenhagen date. Needless to say, I bought that ticket as soon as it was released.

The concert was at VEGA Musikkens hus. Similar to Daniel Caesar, this venue was pretty intimate. I got there when the doors opened and was able to make my way up to the front of the room. I was front row for my favorite band!

Like Daniel Caesar, it was Typhoon’s first time performing in Copenhagen. The leader of the band, Kyle Morton, talked about how much he loved the city. He even tried to speak a little Danish! Typhoon’s performance was amazing, but even more amazing was seeing my favorite band in Copenhagen.

There is something so special about going to concerts while you are abroad. Through both of these concerts, I felt as if I were sharing my new home with my favorite artists. I loved hearing them talk about their impressions of Copenhagen.

But even more special was the feeling I got while I was in the crowd. At first, I felt surrounded by strangers. Yet, when the lights went down and the band came on stage, we all spoke the same words. We were all fans of the same musical artist. There is something truly special about the way in which music can unite people from across the world.

If you have the opportunity to attend a concert while you are abroad, I urge you to take that opportunity. Personally, I hope to see many more concerts in Copenhagen.

P.S. Make sure you get to the concert on time! Concerts in Copenhagen are very punctual.

[planejaneblog-blog]

Turning Twenty One.

Last week I celebrated my 21st birthday in Paris, France. It wasn’t a typical birthday. I didn’t have a birthday party. I didn’t open presents. I didn’t even eat birthday cake. Yet, I am certain it was a birthday that I will never forget.

On my 21st birthday I tried escargot (snails!!!). I went to the Musee d’Orsay and saw one of the largest collections of Impressionist artwork in the world. I ate the most delicious macaroons. I visited the Louis Vuitton Foundation building, designed by my favorite architect, Frank Gehry. I flirted with a French waiter. I drank champagne in front of the Eiffel Tower!

Birthdays abroad are definitely different. I was away from my family and close friends. Yet, I didn’t miss my American birthday traditions. I didn’t miss the streamers and party hats. I didn’t miss the presents. I didn’t even miss the birthday cake (The French macaroons were a good replacement). My experiences in Paris were priceless, unforgettable. 

There was something wonderful about doing something completely different and unique for my 21st birthday. My heart is still so full. Here’s to 21!

See more of my birthday in Paris here!

[planejaneblog-blog]

Trials & Tribulations Abroad.

Copenhagen is known as a city with a great public transit system. I take public transit almost everyday. Therefore, it was only a matter of time before I found myself crying at a bus stop. It is almost a rite of passage here.

So there I was, crying at the 1A bus stop at Holmens Kirke. And it wasn’t a cute cry, no, it was a full-on ugly cry. Now you may be wondering, Jane, why were you ugly crying at the 1A bus stop? Well, it’s a long story. But long story short — I couldn’t find my wallet or passport in my backpack and I had a flight to Barcelona in an hour and a half. Yup.

I had been on my way to the airport. I took the 1A from Esplanade to Kongens Nytrov. I got off the 1A at Kongens Nytrov. I tried to buy a Metro ticket at Kongens Nytrov. Then I realized, I didn’t have my wallet. Then I realized, I didn’t have my passport. It’s one of those situations you have stress dreams about. But this wasn’t a stress dream. 

I decided to go back to my apartment to see if I had left the items there. I lugged my suitcase to the bus stop at Holmens Kirke. Then, just as I had arrived at the bus stop, a bus drove straight past me. It didn’t even stop. That’s when the ugly crying started.

Luckily, the 1A comes every four minutes. I pulled myself together and got on the bus to go back home. Unfortunately, I arrived home to discover my room exactly as I had left it. No passport. No wallet. At this point, my flight to Barcelona was leaving in forty-five minutes.

So what did I do? I missed my flight to Barcelona. I ugly cried some more. I went to the police station. I filed a police report. I filled out the necessary paperwork. I canceled my credit cards. I got new passport photos taken. And then, at 8:30 AM on Monday morning I went to the U.S. Embassy in Copenhagen. Because I had brought all of the required documents, I was able to receive a temporary passport that day.

Honestly, this entire situation is the worst nightmare of every abroad student. It was my worst nightmare. But if something unfortunate does happen while you are abroad, I am here to tell you that it will be okay. Everything can be replaced and the most important thing is your own safety. I am so lucky to have had a supportive network in Copenhagen that helped me get through this stressful experience. People at the bus stop asked if I was okay. My friend Alexa helped me print my paperwork. My family friend, Hedvig, took me to a Christopher Durang play on Sunday to cheer me up. It is these small acts of kindness that I will chose to remember.

Overall, I refuse to let this experience ruin my time abroad. I still love Copenhagen. I still take public transit every day. In fact, I took public transit today to go to the airport. I am actually writing this blog post on a flight to Rome! Of course, this time I watched my belongings much closer. While my first travel week got off to a rocky start, I am now on my way and ready to see what the rest of the week holds!

Smiling with my replacement passport!

[planejaneblog-blog]

Why We Study History.

When I tell people I study History, I am usually met with, “History? I hated History in high school.”

While this response is disheartening, I must remind myself that most people do not have the same view of history as I do. Most people have only viewed history through the lens of a textbook. I, on the other hand, have had the opportunity to experience history. My love for history was forged in these experiences, experiences such as watching A Midsummer Night’s Dream performed in Shakespeare’s birthplace, Stratford upon Avon or analyzing primary source documents in the Rhode Island Historical Society or speaking with a Navajo jewelry maker in the Northern Arizona desert about her tribes’ past. I feel privileged to have had these experiences, which have made history palpable to me. Through these experiences, I have come to view history as a narrative, a collection of shots heard around the world, of characters and their decisions, of yellowing documents, and first-hand accounts.

My love for history has been reinvigorated by my core course at DIS — Competing Narratives: Modern European History. In February, I traveled with my core course to the Danish town of Sønderborg as well as the German town of Flensburg in order to learn more about the contested border region between Denmark and Germany.

We visited several historical sites over the course of the three-day tour. One of the most impactful was the Frøslev Internment Camp, located in Padborg, Denmark. Frøslev was built during World War II when Denmark was occupied by Nazi Germany. There, Danish resistance fighters were imprisoned. After the war, Frøslev was used to house Nazi collaborators. Today, Frøslev Internment Camp is a museum.

One of the most interesting artifacts I saw at the Frøslev Internment Camp was a wedding congratulations. This wedding congratulations was given to a couple name Kurt and Ulla by fellow prisoners. I later learned several couples were married in Frøslev Internment Camp. I was struck by this wedding congratulations —its humanity amidst such darkness.

We had just spent the past three weeks of class learning about relations between Denmark and Germany — from the War of 1864 to World War II. Yet, being on the soil of the borderlands made my studies that much more palpable. Over the course of the three-day trip, we visited battlefields, museums, monuments. We saw our studies firsthand.

I have always said my love of history lies in its humanistic aspects. History is a story. It is our story and; in my opinion, it is the most amazing story of all, of fate, of man and mankind.

[planejaneblog-blog]

You Can’t Buy the Northern Lights.

At 15:30 in Reykjavik, Iceland, my friends and I got an email. Our Northern Lights tour had been canceled due to weather. We were distraught. This was the second day in a row our tour had been canceled due to weather. We were leaving the next morning. Our hopes of seeing the Northern Lights had been dashed due to a few clouds. Thus, we sat in the lobbying of our hostel debating how to spend our newly freed evening.

I wanted to go horseback riding.

“Did you know the Icelandic horse breed can only be found in Iceland?”

“Jane, it’s $100,” my friend Colleen responded.

“Their history dates back to the 9th century!”

My friends were not convinced.

Colleen wanted to visit the Hallgrimskirkja Church. Alexa wanted a beer and a burger. Finally, the three of us came to a consensus. We decided to explore Downtown Reykjavik. As Downtown Reykjavik was several miles from our hostel, we decided to take the bus. As the sun began to set, we walked to a small bus stop on the side of the road and soon boarded a bright yellow bus.

It took ten minutes for my friend Colleen to realize we had taken the bus in the wrong direction. By this point, we were twice as far from our intended destination. Even worse, it was pitch black outside. I sighed. There was nothing else to do but get off the bus, cross the street, and wait for the right bus. As we approached the right bus stop, we noticed a woman standing alone. She seemed about 30 years-old, wearing a large jacket with her hands in her pockets.

“Do you know how long until the next bus?” Colleen asked her.

“I think twenty minutes,” she responded.

Colleen and I then took a seat at the bus stop, exhausted.

“Do you know any places where we can see the Northern Lights?” Alexa asked the woman. Alexa had wanted to see the lights the most.

“The Grotta Lighthouse is good, but you can even see them in Downtown Reykjavik,” the woman responded.

“Really?”

“Sometimes I see them from my backyard.”

“Wow,” Alexa paused, “We had a tour but it got canceled.”

“Yes, that usually means the weather is no good.”

“We might try to see them any way.”

“You could get lucky.”

The woman then revealed to us that she had once worked in a luxury hotel in Reykjavik.

“We would get all these wealthy tourists that were outraged they couldn’t see the lights,” she said.

We laughed at the thought.

“I told them, you can’t buy the Northern Lights.”

Five minutes later, the bus finally arrived. As we boarded the bus, we introduced ourselves to the woman.

“I’m Ana,” she told us.

I went to Iceland and I didn’t see the Northern Lights. To some, this may be seen as a failure. But as Ana told us, you can’t buy the Northern Lights. Travel is often unpredictable, especially when you are dealing with one of the rarest natural phenomena on earth. It is best to just go where the trip takes you. 

I went to Iceland and I didn’t see the Northern Lights. I did, however, swim in the Blue Lagoon, a geothermal spa with bright blue water. I visited the Hallgrímskirkja, a massive church over 244 feet tall. I ate delicious fish and chips. I saw Reykjavik from the top of a mountain. I explored an ice cave. I accidentally walked through a marathon. I had the opportunity to meet Icelanders such as Ana.

It is easy to focus on what you didn’t do on a trip, all the sights you missed. Yet, my trip to Reykjavik taught me to cherish all of the amazing experiences I did have. 

Plus, I am certain my recent trip to Reykjavik will not be my last. 

See more of my trip to Reykjavik here!

[planejaneblog-blog]

Back to School.

Last week, I embarked on my first field study of the semester. Field studies are a unique part of the DIS curriculum. Every Wednesday, DIS students travel with their classes in and around Copenhagen. These weekly field studies give students the opportunity to experience their class curriculum firsthand by visiting meaningful sites, meeting with experts, and engaging in conversation. In essence, field studies are like field trips — but better.

My field study was to the Virum Gymnasium, a Danish high school. I met my Danish Language and Culture class at Nørreport Station at 8:50 AM. Together, we took the S-tog to the end of the line — Virum. From Virum station, it was only a short walk to the high school.

I was first struck by the openness of the school grounds. My peers remarked that their American high schools had had metal detectors and security guards. In contrast, this Danish high school had only a small chainlink fence. I was surprised by how easy it was for our class to enter the school grounds and into the high school.

Upon entering Virum Gymnasium, we were met by four Danish students who showed us around the school. In many ways, the school appeared as any school would. Albeit, a bit nicer. The students were especially fond of a new humanities wing that had just been built.

Finally, our tour guides led us to a small classroom where their peers were busily preparing questions to ask us American students. We then had the opportunity to talk in small groups with the Danish students and answer their questions. This was my favorite part of the field study. The Danish students asked us about our time in Denmark, our impressions of the Danish language, our conceptions of Scandinavia. In turn, we asked them about their educational system, their life as a teenager in Denmark, their conceptions of America.

I soon found we had much in common. When I told two Danish girls that I attended Brown University, they recognized the school from Gossip Girl.

“Isn’t that where Serena van der Woodsen went?”

But our similarities ran deeper than television and music. For example, several Danish students that I spoke to expressed the pressure they felt to score well on tests in order to gain admission into a good university. I could definitely relate. I vividly remember being sixteen and spending my entire summer studying for the SAT. I was disheartened to learn that these Danish students felt similar academic pressures. Yet, I tried to provide them with assurance.

We also spoke at length about stereotypes. Our preconceived notions of each other. All Danes wear black. All Americans love fast food. All Danes ride a bike. All Americans are loud. Yet, when we said these statements out loud, they seemed ridiculous. These statements didn’t match the people sitting in front of us.

When visiting a new place, it is easy to generalize. But visiting the Virum Gymnasium taught me the importance of letting go of preconceived notions. People are complex. Generalizing is easy. It is much more difficult to sit down and get to know someone. Yet, it is worthwhile. You will find that you have much more in common than you originally thought. Who knows, you might even both love Gossip Girl.

With that, it was time to say goodbye to our new Danish friends and return to Copenhagen. I spent the train ride home trying to remember the last time I went on a field trip. It must have been elementary school. Regardless, I can’t wait for my next one.

[planejaneblog-blog]

Hello Copenhagen.

“Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom” - Søren Kierkegaard

I first heard this quote by Danish philosopher Søren Kierkegaard at the DIS Opening Ceremony. The Opening Ceremony took place at the Cirkusbygningen, a former circus building that dates back to 1882. The program featured several speakers and even a performance by the Danish band, Jada. One of the speakers was DIS faculty member, Eleftherios Saftis, who spoke about befriending your anxiety.

My first week at DIS has been filled with moments of anxiety. I have taken the bus in the wrong direction. I have been late to class because I couldn’t find my classroom. I have forgotten my key. I have purchased what I thought was pesto sauce, only to discover it was definitely not pesto sauce (Honestly, I’m still not sure what it was). These difficult moments cause anxiety, doubts that I will never adjust to this new lifestyle.

Yet, Kierkegaard’s words remind me that this anxiety is necessary and even good. Anxiety is the realization of freedom and the possibility of choice. I am here… in Copenhagen! I have endless choices, opportunities — every day here is a new adventure.

I have already had so many adventures. It is honestly hard to believe that I have only been in Copenhagen for one week. I have befriended some of the most amazing people from universities across the world. I have visited historical sites such as Amalienborg, Christiansborg Palace, and Frederiks Kirke. I have viewed the city from the highest tower in Copenhagen. I even took a day trip to Malmö, Sweden.

But my favorite adventure so far has been simply walking the streets of Copenhagen... taking it all in. There is so much beauty in these streets, in small moments. There is even beauty in my 8:00 AM bus ride to class. The streets here are serene, peaceful. The Danes are so kind. When I missed my stop on the bus, a woman gave me directions on how to get back to my destination. As I stepped off the bus, she wished me good luck. When I walk the streets of Copenhagen, I know I made the right decision in studying abroad here, despite moments of anxiety.

My first week in Copenhagen has taught me to befriend my anxiety. My anxiety lets me know that what I am doing here in Copenhagen is important, meaningful. Rather than running from difficulty, I have learned to embrace it. Yes, missing your stop sucks. But I have come to learn that you will always end up where you need to be. 

I cannot wait to see what my second week in Copenhagen holds. Until then, enjoy a short video of some of my favorite Copenhagen adventures so far!

[planejaneblog-blog]

One Week.

Last night at 1AM, I decided to organize all of my shoes. I couldn’t sleep. For the past several days, my mind has been consumed with a to-do list — call Verizon about international plan, buy plug adapter, organize shoes. I have watched hours of YouTube videos about traveling, cooking, packing — you name it. I like to be prepared. My preparation has kept me from dwelling on the fact that in one week I will be leaving for my semester abroad in Copenhagen, Denmark. One week.

I have been asked, “Why Copenhagen?” since my decision to apply to the DIS program. I usually answer this question by discussing the city’s sustainability, public transportation, bike culture. “It’s the happiest country on earth!” But, my desire to study abroad in Copenhagen actually began in fourth grade. In fourth grade, we were assigned to write a report about a country. I chose Denmark because I thought it had a funny name. But, as I began to research the country, I began to value the country for more than its funny-sounding name. I learned about the country’s history, food, and culture. I even interviewed my grandmother’s Danish neighbor for the report. Upon completing that assignment, I knew I wanted to visit Denmark. Ten years later, I decided to spend a semester abroad. I didn’t think twice about where. I had already known for years. Now, in just one week, I will finally be there -- Denmark. One week.

I was never one for New Year’s resolutions, but this week I have resolved to put down the to-do list, at least for a little bit. I want to use this week before my departure to reflect on the semester that awaits me. I have already been preparing for months. I have saved money from my on-campus tutoring job. I have visited the local travel store numerous times. I have mapped the commute from my Residential Community. I have read and re-read the syllabus for my core course — Competing Narratives: Modern European History. I have written so many to-do lists. Now, it is time to pause. It is time to let it all sink in.

I also want to appreciate my current surroundings — my hometown, my friends, my family. Recently, my family and I took a road trip up the California coast. We drove twelve hours to the Oregon border. Along the way, we stopped at various rocky beaches and redwood forests. My family has lived in California for generations. Yet, this road trip made me realize how much of the state I had yet to see. But more so, how much of the world I had yet to see. We spent one afternoon at a beach called Moonstone Beach, marked by black rocks and dense fog. With Copenhagen on my mind, I stared at the Pacific Ocean and thought about how much was out there, beyond the fog. I had just re-read Joan Didion’s Slouching Towards Bethlehem and this moment brought to mind her words: “Here, beneath the immense bleached sky, is where we run out of continent.”

It is difficult to leave California — friends, family, familiarity. It is stressful, scary, overwhelming. But it is also exciting, exhilarating, overwhelming. I have run out of continent. It is time to explore a new one. Who knows what I will find. One week.

See more of my Northern California adventure!