Intro Dansk 2013

"Where have you been!"
My conscience, which sounds a little bit more like Molly Weasley every day, shrieks inside my brain when I access this blog. 
I know, I said I'd update like 3 weeks ago. 

Unskyld, jeg kommer for sent.

See that? That was some legit Danish! Boom! That's the answer, Molly Weasley!
Ladies, Gents, and Ruffy, I introduce the more-improved-at-Danish-now-but-still-really-nervous-about-using-it-because-people-laugh-at-my-accent-Georgia. She is the result of a week of intense Danish training myself and about 45 other exchange students went through in the beginning of February. 

A few Sundays ago, I woke up at a time that isn't acknowledged by my body clock, and drove an hour to the nearest city to jump on a train. Two trains, 7 hours and pretty much the entire landmass of Denmark later, I finally arrived Randers, to catch bus to the place in which I would undertake willing brain torture. 

We were greeted by this... monstrous thing...

What is it?

Anyway, after gawking at that, and being introduced to our teachers, it was full steam ahead with the Danish lessons. Our teachers were all young, fun, and generally made it really easy to learn the language (Shout out to my teacher Vibe). I really enjoyed being in a room with people who understood exactly what we were all going through and the ability to share stories was thoroughly enjoyed. Helping us learn were two Norwegian guys... who were very, VERY enthusiastic about the Danish/Norwegian vowels. 

Their brainchild eventually became the theme song of IntroCamp 2013: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f488uJAQgmw 
Seriously. Hit that link.

Our Danish class! 

During our stay we were given the privilege of being entertained by two awesome bands, (one of which I bought their album, and they took a photo with me!)

Squeeeeeeee!
Fair Enough, Martian! 

The Gang! (Size Matters)

We worked hard all week and had a fantastic time bonding. Thursday saw us in Aarhus being treated to a day of roaming around the city and indulging in some much-needed retail therapy. 

The shopping street in Aarhus.

Which, would be fine, if my card decided to be normal and accept the pin that it had been assigned.
But sometimes, life decides to give the Dane behind the counter at H&M even more reason to judge you more than she already was.

I HAVE MONEY! IT'S JUST INVISIBLE! 

My beautiful friends consoled me by taking me out for a very fattening crepe, and our favourite drink, FAXE KONDI! :D

We are the official unofficial Faxe Kondi reps.

The size of my ass is steadily growing but god, it's worth it.

Anyway, Sunday saw us depart from our dear new friends. It was merely a goodbye for now -  we all pinky promised to come visit. This weekend, we're all meeting up- this time on my side of Denmark for a Get-2-Gether with all the other exchange students in Denmark. Exciting stuff!

Sunday also saw me on a train, bound for Wonderful, Wonderful Copenhagen.

The capital of Denmark was a great experience. I was whirled around the city by my family, getting a look at about six or seven tour-worthy sites and of course, lunch. Amongst our sites were: Danish Secret Service, the changing of the guard at Amalienborg, Christiansborg, Langelinie, the Little Mermaid (Den Lille Havfrue) and many, many statues. Copenhagen is full of 'em. They're all this turquoisey colour. Gotta love it. But it was a kinda 'seen that! Seen that! Seen that! Ok let's go!' type of tour. I enjoyed seeing so much of the history, but I'm looking forward to the day where I can just stroll around and take it all in.

This is what happens when a cold Aussie is in a schmancy Copenhagen restaurant.

Speaking of lunch; I can't fit a whole lot in my stomach. It's a fact of my life. But Danish custom dictates that I must eat everything on my plate.
How the eff am I supposed to be able to do that when every plate I get is the diameter of a freakin' pizza box!? HOW!?
And yet, the Danes strut around in their tall, chiselled glory after their colossal meals as I lie on my stomach and whimper. This is the absolute height of unfairness.
And so, my ass grows at a steady rate. I can feel the extra distance between my bones and the outside world and I am terrified. I hope I can talk my club into paying for my gym membership.  

They'll pay it. 
They love me.

So!
After a day's reprieve back home to recharge batteries, we were off again! This time, by car. We covered almost all of Denmark in one day. 3 cities. 3 islands and 3 hours on the mainland.
This country is really freakin' tiny. Fun fact of the day: Denmark can fit 207 times into Australia. 

Excuse my paint skills. For your convenience.

Anyway, so after a ferry and a couple of road hours, we found ourselves in...
Odense: "O-en-se".
Odense was a city that was definitely clinging to the past. Their past, it seems, was its best asset. It came in the form of the lanky, awkward, world-famous author Hans Christian Andersen. In his museum (which was our only stop) you could be all personal and touchy-feely. The museum is built next to his childhood home. I for one, jumped in his bed, pretended to eat at his dinner table, and made conversation with his statue. It was quite thrilling. As you can probably tell, I like to live dangerously. All stupidity aside, it was actually a wonderful museum. His diaries, clothes, letters and possessions are on dispay there, along with what seemed like a copy of every translation of every book he's written. FYI- he's been translated into 150 languages. That makes him the most translated author of all time. I'm talking Siberian and Cherokee and Swahili here. 

But of course, my favourite part was imitating him as a statue.

Spot the difference

Over another bridge and onto the mainland, we were very quickly in Aarhus.

Aarhus: "Aar-hus"
Back in Aarhus for the second time in a week. I get places, lemme tell ya.
We arrived in the second largest city in Denmark just as the sun was saying "Yo, I'm gonna go say hi to your family, G."
Again, we stopped only once. This time it was the internationally-famous ARoS Art Gallery. I'm slipping into an alter-ego here, but this place is freaking dope! 
I got to see Andy Warhol's original Mazza Munroe, the giant scary-as-all-hell Boy statue, and a couple of other things that freaked me out. I made my mother very jealous.
Checkmate, sucka.
(She dragged us around Manhattan when I was 12 and made us go to about 45 different museums in two weeks. We wanted to play in the snow. I didn't appreciate it. Now, I gloat.)
However I think the most awesome of all of ARos was its rainbow panorama on top of the building. Now, I have a height phobia, so this wasn't easy for me, but the views we got made it so worth it.

Le view of le church through le panorama.

It was très cools.

So, as night was truly upon us, we left the big city and began our final leg onto Frederickshavn.

Frederickshavn: "Fle-ller-icks-haun" (bloody impossible to say.)

We got to Frederickshavn and I was absolutely starving. Well, I'm an exchange student. I'm always hungry. It's part of the parcel. 
But here's evil Denmark, saying, "Oh, have another potato. Lashings of brunsovs. Oooh look, a Fledeboller! Now try these chips, they're called Kim's and they're better than anything ever! Mmm, meat. Now cheese. Oooh let's fry it in butter!"
Needless to say, I feel extreme anger with myself whenever I look in the mirror.

But to my happiness, we went to an Asian restaurant. God, I love Asian food. It's delicious and relatively guilt-free. But, once again, we were given the gigantic portions. My host father ate his and then finished the rest of mine (three quarters remained and I was guiltily full)
Then it was off to bed. Finally.

Now, I need to describe this hotel they brought me to. It's called The Reef. It is 100% attempting to recreate a tropical environment, complete with indoor tropical beach/pool. It's minus degrees outside, and they've used coconut décor. I was in a constant giggle fit. They can't do this! It's silly! I'm from the reef! This is Scandinavia for Christ's sake!

We took a small trip up to the top of Denmark and I stood where the North Sea and the Baltic Sea meet. The most interesting thing about that, though, was seeing snow on the beach. Not something I've ever seen. I'd also never been that cold at the beach before. In hindsight  that was pretty disconcerting.

Anyway, we made our way home and now I've procrastinated this for three weeks. Oh well, I've done it now. Tomorrow I'm going crazy with a tonne of other students and shall report back soon. Hopefully, It'll be on time!
(that was my Molly Weasely conscience, swatting me with a rolled-up newspaper.)

Until Next time,
Vi Ses,
Georgia

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

Velkommen

• Hey there everyone,

  I’m Georgia. Plain and simple, but I have had the best opportunity handed (well, not really handed) to me via some benevolent force of nature.

  I have been selected to be a part of the 2013/14 Rotary Youth Exchange program, living overseas for a year in a new place I have never been before and opening up my life to new people, places and experiences. The process was tedious, and for me, quite stressful, but more on that later.

  After the selection process I was sent my letter of acceptance and given my second preference country as my home for the next year: Denmark. 

  I have no idea what’s in store for me, but all I can say is that I cannot wait. I want it nownownow!

  But alas, I have hurdles in the way, finishing year 12 being the biggest one there, then applying for University (ANU, where else, seriously) and then saying goodbye to all I’ve known for the past 16 years and trading it for something new.

  For now, it’s back to my Math. Who needs this stuff anyway?

  Georgia xo