Over (t)here in Denmark

For Danish students, not only do they have a school nurse, they have a school dentist. Not just one, either, but an actual dentists' office in a separate building, in between the gymnasium (my school) and the folkeskole (elementary school). So when I woke up Monday morning with an aching tooth, I just scheduled an appointment with the "skole tandlæge" (school teeth-doctor). Nothing to worry about, just a injection of anti-bacterial was needed, but Ang wasn't lying -- it took two nurses to hold me down so the dentist could get the needle in there.

I hear I should have been in Tivoli for lunch today if I wanted to catch a glimpse of Mr. Colin Powell, who was in Copenhagen to give a presentation at Frederiksberg Gymnasium. Those lucky kids -- why he didn't come to good ol' Frederiksborg Gymnasium is a mystery to me.

Ang came with me to my school today, and found it very different from her school, Aurehøj, in Gentofte. Aurehøj is a music-based school, where kids dress and act uniquely and individually, but in good ways. Ang fits right in, with her bright blue and yellow shoes, love of her trumpet, and out-going manner. My school's students are usually dressed in the most fashionable styles and lot of them are (I am sorry to say) pretty darn snooty. But I have found some great friends there, once they got to know me and me them.

After school, I took the train to Hellerup, to make sure I knew the way to Copenhagen International School where the SATs are being held this Saturday (cue funeral march music). I've been trying to study hard, and ignore the pressure, but I can't help but get sweaty palms whenever I try to concentrate! Please send positive thought-vibes my way this Saturday from 8-11 am!

I met my host-mother Elin at Nordhavn, which is not too far from Hellerup, and she works just across the street from Nordhavn. We went out to dinner on Strøget together, which was very lovely. We went to a charming retaurant called Pasta Basta. One of my top five favorite things in Denmark that you can't find in America (and definitely not in Alaska) are the quaint little mazes of streets behind the big city, with cafés and little boutiques tucked into them. When I walk down these little cobblestone "allés," with deep church bells tolling somewhere very close by, I truly feel like I'm on an exchange in Europe. Love that feeling!

Ahem.

First of all, I didn't know she was typing on my blogger post page. Second of all, I didn't really think she was going to post it.

But only (and only) because within five minutes of her posting, it got rave reviews, I am (reluctantly) not deleting it.

Ang will be delighted.

Greetings, this is Ang! Yes, the famous Ang I'm sure you've all read about in this blog and come to love! Clams (as in, Clamgirl, but shorter) was going to write, but I wanted to write, because I traveled an HOUR and a HALF to get here so I could eat dinner with her and her host family in her common house (much to her host mum's dismay i'm sure)(for those of you who don't know Clams' host mom is not nearly as cool as her real mom. Yeah, her host mom hates me because once she thought I was making fun of her English when for starters, she wasn't good at English, but she was trying, and for all of you who haven't met me before, I'm not that mean.) (By the way, I also get sidetracked a lot so don't be surprised if 90% of this is in parentheses) Now back to dinner! We don't know what we're having ... mmmystery meat! personally I think it's a lot worse to have mystery meat in Denmark than it is to have it in the States, because the chances of having it processed are slim, and the chances of having 3 different kinds of meat just hand-packed together is much more likely! That's frikadeller. Or, at least that's the way MY host mum makes them! (Now you can clearly see why I come over here for dinner.)

Yeah, so I'm sitting here getting yelled at by Clams. She doesn't particularly find my writing style attractive. She's also extra nice today because she's having problems with her wisdom teeth. She went to the dentist today to get something to ease the pain, but there were only nurses there and they gave her a anti-bacterial shot (holding her down of course) ("OK, I think we're going to need another nurse in here!"). After she yelled at them for giving her more pain, they gave her this gel stuff to numb her gums. (Have you ever seen Star Wars: Episode 1, when Jar Jar Binks gets his mouth caught in the eletrical beam on Anakin's pod racer? (need i say more?)) So, tomorrow she goes back to the dentist.

So, other than getting ready for dinner and having teeth problems, we're just sitting around waiting for something exciting to happen (don't worry-always does! (you just have to wait! (you'll see))).

So seeings how the computer can't be THAT interesting or exciting I guess I'll be signing off! But no fear i will be back! When I have something actually interesting to say!

Hils, Ang!

Last night I treated myself out, and went to see Kill Bill Vol 2. It was an excellent movie, but very different from Vol 1--a lot less blood, and more actual storyline. Problem: When they spoke Japanese or Cantonese in the film, the subtitles were in Danish, and while I can read and understand Danish, the text flashed by so fast I couldn't always catch it. The woes of the exchange student.

This morning my host family and I went to Stine's (pronounced "steen-uh") confirmation. Stine is my host father's niece. Confirmation is a really big deal in Denmark, even if not many people are very religious. There's no First Communion, but it's unusual for someone who hasn't been confirmed to take the bread and wine, so really when you're confirmed, First Communion is thrown in there, too. You're confirmed at around the same age as you are in the States, thirteen or fourteen years old. Many family members come to watch the church ceremony, and there's a party afterwards. In Denmark, it's a tradition that a couple families bring copies of songs they made up themselves to the party. The party was very fancy, with little name-cards in front of the settings, and all kinds of silverware at each place. It was hard to figure out which fork to use for which course, but I remembered that you just "start at the outside and work your way in," and it worked for me. At home, it's usually fork on the left, knife and spoon on the right. Over here, it's all of your forks on the left, your knives on the right, and if there's a spoon at all (which means there will be dessert), it's placed above your plate with the handle pointing towards the right. There were three different wine glasses, all different sizes. One for wine, one for water or soda, and one miniature glass for snaps, later in the evening (which I politely declined). Between every course, a family would pass out the song they brought, and we'd sing the song. For some reason, in the middle of every song, we'd stop and give a toast, then finish the song and toast again. During the courses, at least every five minutes, someone would stand and say "Skål!" and we'd all have to stand and say "Skål!" as though we hadn't already done it thirty times. But Stine looked very happy, and I think that confirmation is a lot like what we call "sweet sixteen," even if she's not quite that old. I think it's a coming-of-age celebration, too.

Ny Hammersholt, the area where I live now, is just about halfway between Hillerød and Allerød. The bus I take home only comes about once an hour, but what's convenient is that if I miss the bus, I can take a five-minute train ride to Allerød and catch a bus there going the other way.

Today I was taking the train to Allerød from school, and I saw Katrine and Maria. They were on their way to Tivoli for the afternoon. Both of them begged me to join them, and it took some major will power to turn them down. Tivoli only just opened last Friday, with a brand-new roller coaster with three loops. But the park isn't cheap, and I'd rather get a whole day's worth of fun than just an afternoon, with school the next day. I do plan on gracing the amusentment park with a full wallet more than once before I go home, though.

I've been meaning to change the coloring on here for quite some time, after I actually figured out how to, and I settled on the Danish colors. In Denmark, it's very common to have a flagpole in your garden, with a standard-sized flag waving. Little flags are used to decorate birthday parties or sales in stores. Danes are very patriotic, and use the flag to show it, much more than Americans do with the US flag.

I visited Kasper's school this morning, and met his English teacher, George (pronounced Gay-og, like in The Sound of Music), and talked to the students (sixth-graders) about Alaska. Or rather, answered their questions they had about Alaska. I'm pretty comfortable presenting to adults, but it's around kids my own age and younger that I'm self-conscious and nervous. But these kids seemed interested in what I was saying, and after awhile they started asking more and more questions. They liked hearing about Alaskan wildlife the most (i.e., "Do you know anyone who's ever been eaten by a bear?"). There were 16 boys in the class (poor George), and only six girls. The girls were pretty quiet while I was talking, but I could tell they were paying attention, and during the breaks they'd come up and ask questions. When lunchtime rolled around, several students asked if I could stay until the next period, so they could ask me more questions, because by now they were getting into it (You know how it is. The first fifteen minutes are always the worst, then a little later the class warms up to you). George invited me to the the teacher's room for the lunch break, if I wanted, but then a couple of the girls came and asked me if I wanted to jump-rope with them outside! I was so happy! I felt like I was the new kid at school who had just been asked to sit at the cool table! So, all in all, I call it a success.

Tonight on the dinner menu: Rice with a chicken sauce, and then an assortment of toppings, including peas, corn, soy sauce, peanuts, sour cream, chopped bananas, raisins, and coconut.

Danes are weird. Er, different.

I dag er det Dronning Margrethes fødselsdag!
Hurra, hurra, hurra!
Hun sikkert sig en gave får
some hun har ønsket sig i år
med dejlig chokolade og kager til!

Today it's Queen Margrethe's birthday!
Hurra, hurra, hurra!
She'll certainly receive a gift
that she's wanted in the year
with wonderful chocolate and cake, too!

That's the Danish birthday song, and just like in the English version, you just add in the name of the birthday person, but it's not to any tune an American would know. Today is in fact the queen's birthday, and the Danish flag is waving everywhere. All day today she stands on a balcony at Amalienborg and waves to the crowd.

Tonight Chia Ling, Jill and Ang are coming over to party with me.

It's officially spring over here, with lovely warm sunshine and nary a cloud to be seen. In honor of the beautiful weather and my good mood, I bestow upon you my favorite Danish recipe: Frikadeller!

½ kilogram (or a little more than a pound) minced pork
2 tablespoonfulls grated onion
2-3 tablespoonfulls flour
1 egg
7-10 fl.oz. milk or water (milk for richer meatballs)
salt and pepper to taste

Combine flour and a little of the milk, then add the meat and blend. Add egg, onions, and salt/pepper and mix until smooth. Add the rest of the milk, then let stand for 10-20 minutes. Fry on a greased skillet in tablespoon-sized balls. Makes 4-5 servings (depending on how big your balls are).

Happy Easter!

I got to sleep in until noon today, and then rose at my leisure. The family and I went to downtown Hillerød, and got some ice cream and walked around the lake and Frederiksborg Slot in the spring sunshine. Then this afternoon I called home (my family's going skiing), and then this evening Allan and Elin hid marzipan eggs around the house for Kasper, Maiken, and I to find. No gourmet Cadbury eggs or milk chocolate bunnies for me this year--Danes are fanatical about marzipan. Though I do have some pink Peeps downstairs. I heard that if you put them in the microwave, they expand and blow up. I'll save those for a rainy day.

Wednesday afternoon we packed the car (which, by the way, looks exactly like a purple hippo--cars in Europe are weird) and drove for four hours to Århus, the second largest city in Denmark. While the bridge from Fyn to Jutland isn't much of anything, the bridge from Zealand to Fyn is just massive, and I almost asked Allan to pull over so I could take a picture. It's actually two bridges, connected in the middle on tiny Sprogø Island. The West Bridge, which is 6,611 meters long, and connects Fyn with Sprogø, is the second longest road and rail bridge in Europe. The East Bridge is 6,790 meters and connects Sprogø Island with Zealand. The bridge’s 254 meter-high steel towers, or pylons, are the highest points in Denmark. The East Tunnel, at 8,024 meters long, is for trains and is Europe’s second longest bored tunnel.

We arrived at Elin's parents house at around eleven pm. Elin's parents are named Inger and Børge. Pronouncing Inger is no problem, but Børge is like four syllables. Boar-ohr-ayg-eh, with that Danish "ø" in the back of the throat thrown in. Despite my experience with Danish, I butchered it every time I tried to say it, so finally I gave up and called him Morfar.

Thursday: Allan, Elin, Kasper, Maiken and I drove to Marselisborg, yet another summer residence of the queen's. Queen Margrethe is actually currently staying there, with her husband Prince Henrik, her son Prince Frederik, and Mary Donaldson. Then we drove to a Danish prehistoric museum called Moesgård, which I thought was really interesting. Lots of the exhibits scared seven-year-old Maiken, though, with skeletons and weapons and such. After that, we took a detour on the way home and stopped at the coast. It was an overcast, windy day, but Maiken, Kasper, and I had fun looking for pretty stones and having skipping-rock contests. We went back to the house for lunch, then went to the very middle of Århus to Den Gamle By, which means "the old town." It was the Plimoth Plantation of Denmark, with people dressed up like in the old days, practicing clock-, shoe-, candle-, and soap-making, which was fun to see and try. After spending the afternoon there, back at the house, I showed Inger and Børge pictures of Alaska. They, like everyone else in this country, were fascinated with the mountains, trees, and ocean right outside my door at home. They couldn't believe that we sometimes have wild bears in our garden ("Don't they eat the sheep?!"), and that there are no roads going out of my city ("Then why do you own a car?"). We had reservations at a place called Jensen's Bøfhus ("beef house") for dinner, which Kasper liked because it had an all-you-can-eat ice cream buffet afterwards.

Friday: LEGOLAND! We packed everything up first, because Legoland is on the way back to Zealand. It was about an hour's drive away, so we arrived around ten am. It was the Friday of Easter break, with beautiful sunny weather, so Legoland was jam-packed with people. French people, British people, German people, Swedish people ... Legoland was apparently the place to be. I loved the miniatures of famous landmarks (the Statue of Liberty, the Capitol, the Acropolis, Nyhavn and Amalienborg in Copenhagen, etc) constructed completely of Legos. The Mt. Rushmore was made of 1.5 million Lego bricks! There was a Lego train, a Lego Monorail, Lego racer cars, a Lego pirate ship and western town ... you name it, they had it there, made of a gajillion Legos. I went through two rolls of film, and yet I can think of things I didn't get a picture of.

We stayed until the very last ride closed (Kasper and I ran all the way across the park five minutes before closing time to try and have one last go on our favorite ride--and made it), and then drove home.

Today I met Jill and Ang in Copenhagen, and we walked Strøget, which hasn't been so full of people since August. We went to the Hard Rock Cafe for dinner, to celebrate Jill's birthday.

One of my friends in my drama class, Cecelia, works at an amusement park called Bakken, which means "the hill." She invited to come and check it out over Easter break, so yesterday afternoon we met in Hillerød and she took me to Bakken, which is in the middle of a forest in Klampenborg. It was great to be with someone who works there -- we got to go on a lot of rides multiple times for free. It's not a large park, and there weren't a lot of really big rides, but it was very quaint, very old, and very Danish. The park is not all owned by one organization. The rides and food stands and game booths are individually owned. I saw a small house built into the middle of the largest roller coaster, complete with a patio and garden. Cecelia said that the family who owned the ride lived there. Bakken was a lot of fun, but when it started to get chilly around ten, her dad came and picked us up.

I'm free from school until next Tuesday, and my host family and I leave for Jutland, and Legoland, tomorrow afternoon.

This evening I went with Anni, Bent, Katrine and Maria to eat dinner at Anni's mother's farm in Hornbæk, an hour's drive north from Hillerød. It's always nice to see them, and even better now that I can speak Danish, and they're getting really good at English.

I never did catch Anni's mother's name, but I asked her if I could just call her Mormor, and she said yes. In the English language, when we say "grandma," it could mean either the father's mother or the mother's mother. You can't tell. But in Danish, "mor" is mother and "far" is father. Therefore, "farfar" is father's father, and "farmor" is father's mother. "Mormor" is mother's mother, and "morfar" is mother's father. Pity we don't have this simple system in English.

After dinner (frikadeller og kertoffler- Danish meatballs and potatoes), Katrine and I ran outside and peeked into the stable to see the pigs. Holy porkchops. I had no idea pigs were so huge. These oinkers were almost as big as cows. They had ears the size of dinner plates! I've always pictured pigs as relatively small, smooth, pink, and sort of cute. But the swines were grayish in color, furry-looking, and positively behemothic.

For the rest of the school year, we'll be engaged in something very similar to what Spirit Week is like in the United States. There are three grades in my school; first year, second year, and third year. During this "fanekrav", the third year classes all have flags. The second years want the flags. The third years post "flag demands" (fanekrav) for their corresponding second years (i.e., 3b gives demands to us, 2b), and if we fulfill all the demands to their satisfaction, we get the flag. Examples of demands: we make cake for 3b every Friday. Niels from our class has to dress like a "frømand" (diver), wet suit, flippers and all, every Thursday for the rest of the year. There's a statue of a golden rooster out in the courtyard, and Jesper from 2b must sit on it while reading a romantic poem to his girlfriend in 3b. Next Wednesday, none of the 2b girls are allowed to wear any make-up. While the 2b boys serve dinner at next week's Galla dinner, they must wear ballerina tutus. Mette and Cecelie from our class are demanded to wear 80's jogger clothes every Monday. Apparently getting the flag is important, because all of the second years acquiesce to these embarrassing demands, no questions asked. I suppose one of the consolations is that next year, they'll get to be the ones who give the demands.

And today, 3b requested that 2b paint yellow and black stripes on our faces. Like bees.

Bzzz, bzzz.