Sunday, March 6, 2016

Oh København

Like every other traveling experience, nothing really went according to plan on my journey to Scandinavia. I did what I set out to do, however, and that was to immerse myself in a new culture, even if it was only for a week’s time. Aside from a few stories people who had already been to Denmark told me, I had no idea what I was walking into. Lucky for me, I roll with the punches quite well. Although I did little to no research on Copenhagen (København in Danish), the upside to that is I had no expectations to be let down or misguided by.
                 
When my flight to Copenhagen was delayed for over twenty hours, “because of a jam up in Stockholm” I had every right to go ballistic. I could have yelled at the kiosk attendant, demanded my hotel voucher and left in a cloud of anger. I could have voiced my frustration to those standing in front, and behind me in the que, but I didn’t. I didn’t even wait in line to get my hotel voucher because I was lucky enough to have friends living in Brooklyn only a short metro ride from the airport.    
             
One of the many canals in Copenhagen

             This was the beginning of my journey, and I actually ended up making friends with the first person who broke me the news, “The flight to Copenhagen is cancelled and they’re re-scheduled it for tomorrow at noon.” She was an American pursuing her own master’s degree in order to become an art curator. I discovered this when it turned out she was sitting directly behind me on the plane. Sitting directly across the aisle from me was another airport lounge friend. He was a Danish graphic designer whom I spoke briefly with while we waited to board our plane. Crazier yet, an old high school friend and snowboard buddy was sitting just a few rows rows behind me; our meeting at the airport lounge was complete happenstance. He was on his way to finish his last season as a semi-professional hockey player in Denmark.
        

             That plane ride got delayed a third time, when we had to stop in Oslo, Norway, because a mini snow storm going through Copenhagen had made it “too unsafe to land”. At that point, it was just nice getting off the plane, stretching the legs and taking in Norway’s snow topped mountains in the distance. Being on that plane with familiar faces was also a nice reminder of how whether it feels like it or not, we are always exactly where we need to be. Scary to think about, but also relieving to know that when things aren’t going our way, they still are.

 After we finally landed in Copenhagen, I went through the initial phase of being overwhelmed by large buildings and obscure languages on my way to the hostel where I’d be staying the next five nights. I like to compare fitting in, or just understanding a culture, to a sport of sorts. Like any sport, there are rules (language), etiquette (customs), and players (natives). The only difference is nobody wins or loses, it’s just how you perceive your own experience. You can go as deep, or as shallow into the experience as you like, it mostly just depends on your personality and motivation. In Denmark, the rules were a little skewed in my favor because their citizens are all taught English in conjunction with Danish from a young age. This made interacting with the culture that much easier.

My first true interaction with a Danish citizen was with a couple of girls sitting across from me at a burger joint on my first night. I asked them whether or not it was customary to tip at a restaurant. Generally, in Europe, it is not customary, but this was Scandinavia. They explained that similar to other European countries, restaurant workers are paid in full, and thus don’t expect healthy tips like we do in the states. With exceptional service, they said, it’s always nice to tip however. This is what I assumed initially, and this is one of the rare times an assumption didn’t end up coming back to bite me.

(Side note: With this brief money talk, I think it’s a good place to comment on the Danish government, which operates under a constitutional monarchy in which a queen operates as their head of state. Unlike England, however, Denmark incorporates many values of socialism into their society, such as free tuition to students, free health care to all citizens and forgiving drug rehabilitation programs to its users.)

I found it significant that the majority of people I talked to about Denmark’s government policies were completely ok with them. Almost half of their salary goes to the government in taxes, and that not only includes free tuition and healthcare, but a full year of paid salary for pregnant mothers. There are certainly pros and cons to this system, and one of our leading Democratic candidates, Bernie Sanders, is pushing for similar policies, so it’s definitely important to be aware of.

Summer residence of Christian IV
One surprising cultural norm I could have never predicted was the prominent music scene in and around Copenhagen, especially in Freetown Christiania, a former military base that was transformed into a commune in 1971. No travel book out there is going to tell you that the center of the jazz universe resides in a former Children’s theatre just outside the city limits of Copenhagen.

I found out about that theatre while browsing in a music shop in Brooklyn. Inside I ran into a musician who had been to Copenhagen several times and gave me directions to the theatre. I took his advice, and found the theatre in all its smoky glory my second night. I went on to participate in a charity function for the “Girlfriends of Africa”, an organization that benefitted underprivileged woman living in Africa by teaching them basic crafting skills. The next night at the theatre was a “jam session”, and I reconvened with familiar faces to take in yet another extraordinary night of good music and stimulating conversation.

I went on to have many conversations with various Danes and people who were ether traveling through or had moved from another country, such as a Brazilian infectious disease physician, a Croatian completing her Ph.D in French renaissance and a Dutch human resources manager. Each of these interactions were meaningful in their own way, whether it was simply walking for some late night food, being bundled up from head to toe on the disc golf course or being completely naked in a bathhouse full of strangers. Those were the kinds of experiences that made my trip. 

Freetown Christiania 

My experience at the bathhouse was by far the most interesting. There’s something  literally and figuratively poetic about revealing your entire self to others in a sauna. When the Croatian friend I made at our hostel entered the stone one floor building with me, I felt as though we were the only “foreigners” there. While everyone inside the changing area was completely relaxed, we were tensely removing one article of clothing at a time, wondering how this going to go. I have to say that holding a conversation with a completely naked stranger is something that really rattles your instincts initially. After the initial shock you begin to understand that we all have these bodies, each one of us unique and beautiful in our own way, but when we’re all completely stripped down, we’re really all the same.

 The whole experience turned out to be not as big a deal as we thought. No one  cared that we weren't locals, and the atmosphere seemed to actually breed more openness, as one might imagine. There was about a 70/30 ratio of men to women, so it wasn’t so awkward for my friend who ended up, along with me, really enjoying the experience. I even got to re-unite with a friend I made at a coffee shop a few days ago and went to the jazz theatre with. She was an environmental science student and the one who initially told me about the bath house.

My experience later in the week on the disc golf course was a little more structured then the bathhouse. After riding about nine kilometers through the city on a cruiser bike I rented from the hostel, I somehow ended up at hole #5 in the middle of one of Denmark’s best courses, Valbyparken (Side note: Bikes are what Copenhagen does. There are cars, but it is very much like Amsterdam with a large portion of citizens riding bicycles and every road maintaining a designated bike lane. This is yet another way I got as close as I could to an authentic experience). 

             I asked the guy who just threw on hole #5 where hole #1 was. He immediately asked if I wanted someone to throw with. Initially, I wanted to say no, as I spent the last three days immersed in constant social interaction without anytime to myself. However, it can be a frustrating experience navigating a new disc golf course for the first time, especially in a foreign country, and this guy was from the area, therefore I obliged.

Hole #10 ValbyParken
We went on to play the first nine holes, discussing our where abouts and favorite disc golf players. I asked him what he thought about the California native Paul Mcbeth, the current world champion. He just smiled and replied, “One day, I hope to beat him”. This guy I was throwing with wasn’t half bad, it just took him thirty seconds to square up for every single shot he took. In tournament play, he would probably be asked to speed up play, but in a social round of disc golf such as this I didn’t have the heart to say anything. After the ninth hole, I told him I wanted to re-start from hole #1, and we went our separate ways. 

I ended my experience in Denmark with a final interaction at the Copenhagen airport, in which I was nabbed by security after I tried to carry on two unopened beer bottles in my bag. I completely forgot about the liquid limits, and I only wanted the bottles for memorabilia sake. They understood this, and although they didn’t ask if I wanted to chug them, they still let me carry them on after they emptied them out.

 There was no delay issues with the flight home, but they did randomly bump me up to first class. Now that, I had no problem with. This trip was another reminder that things don’t typically go the way we plan them, and although we can’t control that, we can control how we react. This is why it's important to be both flexible and understanding. Our reaction is truly one of the only things we can control, and that's usually one of my major pieces of advice for fellow travelers. My other piece of advice is to always be on the look out for new experiences. Let those experiences question what you know and let them impact what you want out of life. Bring back what you learn, and share it.


My Bike

1 comment:

  1. Nice blog! Felt like I was there myself... even in the bathhouse! Life is not to be lived, it is to be experienced. Glad you had a nice one.

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