Impressions.

To be fair, I've been here just over a week. Danish friends, you know that this is not personal/directed at you in any way. Hopefully you'll find it funny. If not, go have a Tuborg and a frikadeller and get over it.

These are my impressions of Denmark:

1. Black is most certainly the new black.

If you are a Dane, you must NEVER wear ANY colour. Seriously, it's like funeral central 24/7 around here. I wear my red jeans and get stared at - and not in a good way. Black is the past, present, and future to the Danish people. Why wear colour, when you can wear black?
Personally, I don't get it.
Colours are happy; colours show personality. Why, when the Danes are such warm, friendly people, should they wear black all the time?
"It goes with everything!" My host sisters shall cry. Yes, I think to myself, especially black.

 

Look! A Dane!

But I refuse to cave. I went to H&M and completely avoided the black clothes (which took up about half the shop). I will have my red jeans and I will wear them too! Eff you, black rule!

But let me assure you, this is not handy in my assimilation into Danish society (well, the society at Nakskov Gymnasium). Being the only Aussie in the school with the reddest of red jeans does not help with my current zoo-animal status. I am easy prey for the local wildlife (students & teachers), who see my colourful attire and pounce.
So many people (SO MANY) have approached me at the most inopportune times to bombard me with questions. Here are the most common examples:

"Oh, you're from Australia, right?! Can you please say Dingo?!" (or koala or kangaroo or g'day or mate or something equally as embarrassing).

"Oh. My. God. You're from Australia... DO YOU KNOW CODY SIMPSON??????????? I LOVE HIM!!!"
Uh, he lives on the Gold Coast. That's pretty far away.

"Sorry, are you really from Australia? I thought Australians were tanner than that."
At this point, I look down at my forearm. I'm of Mediterranean descent. I come from the sunniest place on the planet. What more do you want? An aborigine? Cue eyeroll.

"Have you ever seen a real kangaroo?" 
Again with the eyeroll.

And the numero uno most asked question:
"Why the hell did you pick Denmark?"
...
Sigh.

   2. Did someone say Grand Theft Auto? Oh, no, it's just a Danish driver.

Now, It may be -6 and snowing outside, but I assure you, there are people out on bikes. Everywhere in Denmark. Rain, hail, snow or shine, there are people on their bikes. Because of this bike culture, and the lack of designated zones in Nakskov, the cars don't really have right of way. So we have this immense weaving action happening. Forget the slipperiness of the road. There are are bigger issues at hand. Namely, the Dane on the bike with the Fjällräven backpack. Hold onto your Carlsberg, because these little Danish cars are weave machines. And the Viking at the wheel is well equipped with skill, experience, and a BAC of .08. You're in safe hands.

Who has right of way? I don't even know...

    3. Keyboard Smash...Sorry, Danish.

This is a language which involves more larynx gymnastics than I have ever encountered. Heck, even the tribes in Africa with the click language would have a hard time. But Danish is a language I MUST learn, and I am determined to do so. My chief teacher is my lovely host sister Juliane (wooh you got a mention). It is thanks to her that I now know all the colours, and I can describe my feelings (hungry, hungry... and hungry). But do not ask me to say red. IT. IS. IMPOSSIBLE.

But as I sit here in English class, I am reminded of the fact that most of the people here can speak at least basic English, or in the case of the English teacher, perfectly accented British English (and she's a native Dane!)
My Danish, on the other hand, sucks. So yeah, that makes me pretty unhappy with myself. But it's a driving point for me to continue trying my best when it comes to learning Danish. This Thursday, I start my first real Danish lessons in Maribo, about an hour's drive from Nakskov. Next weekend, I am in Bjerringbro in North Jutland for a whole week of into/language camp. These are my doors into the world of the secret language that is Danish.

   4. School

I just- brain does not compute.

I can't even begin to explain this succinctly. In fact, it deserves a whole post to itself.

So next time, it's all about school. That is, if I can fit it in before I go to Bjerringbro. I have a busy week coming up. I move from my counsellor family to my first host family on Wednesday (it is Monday). Then, this weekend, I am off to Bjerringbro. Then my winter holiday begins and I'm back in North Jutland with my host family to see the sights. Then, back to school again. So, it's all up in the air.

Until next time, 
Vi ses,
Georgia

Planet Denmark

So I've done it. I've gone and ditched my family, friends, and whole life to fulfil my dream of spending an extended period of time in a foreign land. The land in question, dear friends, is Denmark.
Rotary International, well done. You have done such an amazing job so far, and I take my hat off to you.

Now on with the story.

Denmark, the teeniest country in Scandinavia, is often lovingly referred to as 'the armpit of Europe'. It is home to just over 5.5 million Danes, or as they would like to be called, 'Vikings', who enjoy lashings of pork over ryebread. Don't ask.

I have now landed in Denmark after a 36 hour journey and I have to say, it's a whole new world. It shall henceforth be known as 'Planet Denmark'.
Planet Denmark, as I have said, is home to the species homo vikingus,  a rare breed of human that enjoys living in the extreme cold, playing incredibly violent sports such as the likes of Handball, sorry, Håndbold, and are proud to claim that they have successfully replaced their bloodstreams with several alcoholic beverages, namely Carlsberg and Tuborg.

I have willingly and happily been thrust into this new society and it is with happiness that I say that I love it. I was scooped up by the big birds at Rotary International and told this would be my new home for the next year. My journey was rather uneventful compared to most, consisting of varying bouts of heat and cold, from dying of exhaustion in Bangkok and having a lovely nap in (or should I say over) Russia.

I'm here, and that's the short and short of it. I've been here for just 6 days, but it feels like so much more. More like a month. I'm with my darling counsellors now, but soon I will move to be with my first host family. Everyone I've met so far are just incredibly lovely. I'm finding it very difficult to express just how lucky I feel when I think about their kindness.

Anyway, this is just to touch base. I'll have a better post next time.

Coming up: My first impressions of Planet Denmark

Vi ses,

Georgia