Goodbye, Denmark

I walked out to the docks today to see the statue of H.C. Anderson's Little Mermaid.  I had meant to do this before I left the country.  It was a good day to go, because on a wintry Sunday afternoon, there are bound to be many fewer tourists at one of Copenhagen's most popular attractions, and also because the little statue looking forlornly out at the sea reflects the general sadness of having to leave something that you have come to love very much.

On my way, I stumbled upon a few other artifacts of note.

The plaque at the base of these stone sisters reads: "Norway Thanks Denmark 1940-1945."  It's a nice gesture of solidarity, considering Denmark folded before lunch time the day the Germans invaded, clearing Hitler's path to Norway.  Then again, Norway collaborated heavily (see pejorative "quisling") while Denmark kept a pretty good record for being a stubborn nuisance to Germany for the rest of the war.  So, I guess they're even now.

"Thanks guys.  Those two hours of armed resistance really gave us a fighting chance at getting our act together."

Here's a windmill atop an old fortress.  The fort is built upon bastions in the shape of a star.  This shape is highly defensible...if it's the 19th century.  Today, it's a park.

And here's another statue.

Plow fields, whip bulls.

 Well, here it is.  The Little Mermaid is indeed little.  Most people are surprised, even unimpressed, by the diminutive figure.  It looks bigger in pictures, but it's actually about the size of a real live mermaid.  There's still some pink paint on the head.  She tends to get painted, decapitated, de-limbed, and burqa'd every few years, but is quite resilient.  Why does she look so sad?  Well, let's just say that whereas the Disney film ends swimmingly, Anderson's original story ends rather drowningly.

 Walking back toward DIS through Nyhavn, I passed this boat.  The banner reads: "Stop Hunger."  The depressed statues seem to be out in force today.

Printing out my boarding pass at DIS, I realized that this is the last time I would be in the DIS computer lab.  Today would be the last time I walk around downtown Copenhagen, and the last day I go to the Netto.  It's very sad, and it doesn't really hit you until you are doing all the things you used to do and seeing all the people you have gotten to know for the last time.

So for the last time tomorrow, I will buy a rum snail for breakfast.

A rum snail

For the last time, I will show my transport pass to the blue-jacketed driver of the 2A bus to the Forum.  And for the last time, I will ride the spotless, sleek metro ten minutes to Kastrup Lufthavn.

There, I will drop my bag off at the SAS counter and walk through the security line.  It will take two minutes, and I will not have to remove my shoes.  I shall receive exemplary service aboard a large SAS jetliner.

Oops, wrong picture.

There we go.

Ten hours later, I will land in Washington, DC, where people go underneath buses instead of inside of them, the metro works when the stars are properly aligned, and homeland security has issued an airport search warning for old ladies, tired students, and confused foreign tourists.

I am only a danger to myself.

In the spirit of the late great Christopher Hitchens (Reason rest his soul), I'll be mildly incisive here for a moment.  I take it that a lot of students start "study abroad" blogs, and most of them probably conclude with eye-rolling stuff about "transforming experiences," "personal growth," "intercultural understanding," and "world citizenship." 

So, I'll spare you.

Let's be frank.  Opportunities for "intercultural understanding" are limited; this is Northern Europe, not Malawi.  Some of the Americans here think Danes are reserved folks with hard shells.  First, I am not fond of generalizations.  Second, why shouldn't they be?  Anyways, I've found most Danes to be polite, helpful, and very ordinary.  Certainly very tolerant of an American with absolutely no command of their confusing language.  I could not have asked for a better host population, to use some vaguely parasitic language.  Danes and Americans are different, but those differences are neither fundamental nor or they inhibiting.  They are mostly superficial and they certainly aren't applicable to everyone.  At the end of the day, we all drink Sprite (or Faxe Kondi, the Danish Sprite), watch the Simpsons, and get our chicken dinners from the grocery store. Then again, maybe those things do demonstrate intercultural understanding on a very basic level.

"Transformative experiences?"  "Personal growth?"  Let's not go too far here.  I had some great times here, but it's college, not a coming-of-age novel.  So let's not be overly dramatic.  I was here for four months, and study tours aside, a lot of my days followed this progression: breakfast-->class-->lunch-->class-->dinner-->homework-->sleep.  And for plenty of DIS students -- well, let's just say that the only things that grew were their livers.  But I would be lying if I said that my too-short time here did not change some of my opinions and preconceived notions.

"World citizenship?"

Grade A

 Aside from my cynicism on the concept of the "world citizen," Europe is hardly "the world," and for an American, it's far from exotic.  It isn't radically different from home.  It's a step beyond Canada.  In fact, when you think about some of the other countries in the world, Europe is more home than not for an American.  Which is maybe why I never really felt homesick or lost here.

I didn't come here to have crazy adventures or be changed into a new person.  I came to go to school, and to go sightseeing in my spare time.

But I did get plenty out of my international experience.  Here is what I got.

When you spend most of your life watching the History Channel when you get home from school (back before it became the Speculative Paranormal/Biblical Bullshit Channel) you learn a lot about Europe.  A whole lot.  Mostly about these guys getting their comeuppance:

"Ah, the Luftwaffe.  The Washington Generals of the History Channel." -- Homer J. Simpson

But also about European culture, politics, geography, music, etc.

So, it would be a crime for me -- now studying History, Political Science, Spanish, and German -- not to spend some time on this continent if I had the opportunity.  And as my Dad says, I am a "lucky fellow" to have the opportunity to do just that.

Over here, I have been able to see a (somewhat) different way of life.  I've been able to meet new people from all around the world.  Among my achievements I can count not getting mugged, not losing anything important, and living out of a backpack for two weeks.  Plus, watching footage on the History Channel is no replacement for learning history right where it occurred.

I think, by far, my favorite thing about going to school here has been...going to school here.

Meet Dr. Peter Christensen, my tweed jacket-wearing, pipe-smoking history professor, seen here expounding his belief that state intervention and the human agency are responsible for the dramatic decline in epidemic disease in the modern Western world.

So much the man, it hurts.

Here's Thorsten Wagner, from my German Memory & Identity core course.  A Dane of German extract, he's an unlikely expert on Jewish and Holocaust history, and the best tour guide I've ever had.  You can hear him lecture here.

A stock photo from DIS.  That's the finance building and former Luftwaffe headquarters behind him.  Thanks to Thorsten, I can identify that structure on sight.

Jesper Lohmann, laid-back Terrorism and Counterterrorism in International Politics instructor.

"So...basically...Mr. bin Laden believes Jihad is the way to go.  Yeps."

Last but not least, Martin Mennecke, from International Law from a European Perspective.  Never unhappy to reschedule our class for early morning or dinnertime because he has to go hang out with his U.N. buddies at the North Pole.  But Martin's class was the most challenging and intensive.  Three things I learned from Martin:

1. There are two main sources of international law: treaties, which are codified agreements, and custom, which is completely hilarious.
2. Don't hate on the U.N.  It's only as good as its members.  Who, let's face it, are mostly not very good.
3. Who thought it would be a good idea to put China and Russia on the Security Council?

Still writing your paper, Martin.

The academics (excepting Martin's class) were less challenging than they are at IU.  That's a good thing -- the point of studying abroad is not to spend all day buried in a book.  But they were more difficult than those of other programs.  I can speak highly of DIS (which is currently rated as the #1 study abroad program by the Huffington Post) for the breadth of experiences it offers, the facilities, and the quality of the faculty.

I have been asked, "Do you like Denmark better than the U.S.?"  "Would you like to live in Europe?"

To state the obvious, Denmark and the United States are very different countries.  Denmark has a top-notch public transportation system, a generous welfare state, and high-quality, tax-based universal healthcare.  Danes are not lazy, bankrupt, or in poor health.  They have a buoyant economy, an unemployment rate of 4% (and this is a bad year), and life expectancy on par with America's.  Social democracy works well for them.  Denmark is the least corrupt, most egalitarian, and happiest country in the world (these are facts).  Denmark is a safe country; violent crime is rare, and there are strict controls on guns and knives.  But, I am convinced that none of this could ever be applied very effectively in America.  Denmark is a tiny country of 5 million polite, well-educated, well-off, culturally homogenous people who have a lot of faith in their political system.

Is that you, Denmark?

The U.S. spans an entire continent, and has a 300 million-strong population containing every color of the ethnic, religious, and political rainbow, with a strong tradition of economic liberalism and individuality.  I am not saying that one setup is superior to the other.  I am saying that we are different, and in many respects maybe irreconcilably so.

  That doesn't mean that we can't learn things from the Danes.  I think America would be a happier, freer, and ultimately safer country if we adopted certain things from this cozy Scandinavian country.  Buckle up, because it's going to get political here for a moment.

What do you think about when you think of the "European lifestyle?"  A bunch of lazy, dependent, tax cheats?

Okay, some of that is qualified for certain countries on this continent (looking at you, Club Med).

But there is a middle ground.  Danes (and most other Western, Central, and Northern Europeans) are able to keep the trains running on time and the economy humming without working themselves into the ground.  Danish workers take actual lunch breaks.  They come home at 5 p.m. and see their families, and they eat dinner together.  Vacation time is respected by employers and used by employees. 

The Danish government trusts its citizens.  There is minimal security at government buildings.  The Jyllands-Posten building -- the newspaper that published the infamous Mohammed cartoons -- is probably better defended than parliament.  As someone who is quite frankly sick of the post-9/11 security state, I am happy with Denmark's sensible airport security.  I can keep my shoes and belt on.  The guards won't confiscate my nail clippers.  Flying here isn't a pain in the ass (Britain, on the other hand, has -- to quote Tropic Thunder -- "gone full retard" here, so this is really more of a continental thing).

This doesn't mean that Denmark is a neutral, declawed, or defenseless country.  Denmark has conscription (although it rarely uses it because so many young Danes volunteer for military service).  Danish soldiers fight alongside ours in Afghanistan, and Danish jets flew many sorties in Libya.

Danish parents trust their children.  They aren't sheltered or raised in a culture of fear, and they are taught to be independent and thoughtful.  Danish parents respect their children.  There is no "you have to go to college" attitude; there is no stigma in wanting to work for a while after high school, or wanting to join the military.  The average Danish 18-year old probably has five years of personal maturity on his American peer.

Danes take a grown-up approach to alcohol.  The drinking age is 16 for beer and wine, and 18 for hard liquor.  Outside of Middle Eastern theocracies, the U.S. is the only country in the world that has the dangerous, immoral, and profoundly hypocritical policy of treating as second-class citizens people who otherwise have the franchise, are eligible for military service, and can be tried as adults.  Danish teens aren't out binge drinking or committing crimes.  They're taught to be responsible and treated as adults.  I can't say enough how flatly wrong I think our laws and their supporters are.

Denmark also has a realistic, mature approach to social ills (in case you can't tell, I'm a civil libertarian).  Denmark does not throw people in jail for victimless crimes.  Marijuana is tolerated by the police and is in fact sold openly in Christiania, although it is still illegal.  Prostitution is legal and regulated.  Gambling is legal, and there is no shortage of places to do it.  So, Danes are strung out on drugs, gambling away their earnings, and plagued by VD, right?  The answers are no, no, and mostly no.  By and large, the legalize-regulate-educate model is a proven success here and elsewhere in Europe.

Finally, Danes don't flip out about unhealthy things.  Nobody looks down on you for having a beer on lunch break.

Certain professions are now excluded from this norm.  You better have it together by tomorrow, SAS.

Danes have lots of butter in their diets.  True, they have a new "fat tax," but it sure hasn't stopped me.  Probably around a third of Danes smoke (it's allowed in most bars and clubs) -- which is obviously not good for you, but I think we make way too big a deal out of it.  So, how do Danes make it to 50?  Put it down to less daily strain, less repression, more exercise, and easy access to healthcare.

I'm not saying that Denmark is a utopia.  No, no, no.  Even the nicest countries have their downsides.  The taxes are high and numerous.  They have to pay for this nigh-socialism somehow, right?  There is a value-added tax, and taxes on luxury items.  A car costing $15,000 in the U.S. would cost $50,000 in Denmark because of the 200% automobile tax (how are there all these Mercedes around then?).  Yes, and of course there's that awful fat tax.  Hilariously, Danes do not heavily tax alcohol or tobacco (most other Northern European countries do).  I guess they still hold some sins sacred.  But enough about taxes.  Prices are high, and portions are small.  Not once have I eaten in a sit-down restaurant.  I simply can't afford it.  Danish food is fairly mediocre compared to French, Italian, Spanish, or even German food.  Shops open late and close early.  In the winter, it is dark and cold.

4 in the afternoon.  No joke.

Then there's the subtle, casual racism.  Many Americans believe that Europe is far more sophisticated and tolerant than we are when it comes to other races and cultures.  Quite the opposite is true.  In Denmark's case, it has to do with a huge influx of Somali and Middle Eastern immigrants.  Denmark isn't an immigrant society like America is; it doesn't even have Britain's colonial experience.  So, the country is going through a strenuous period of adjustment.  The problems come from arrivals with no interest in assimilation; they also comes from far-right Europeans who are frightening, if weak shadows of their mid-century predecessors.  The tension is subtle, but it's there.

So Denmark isn't perfect (who is?) but the good far outweighs the bad.  In spite of this, I do of course love America.  Like Europe, we also have topographic and cultural diversity, even if you can't go from one language, climate, and culture to another in a 45-minute plane ride.  My family and most of my friends are in the states.  Honestly, the food is better just because of the sheer breadth of choices available in a geographically compact area.  I love the cheap(ish) gas, big portions, and low prices.  I love the sense that everybody comes from a different place, but that we can all unite around certain things.

I'm not sure I would want to relinquish my citizenship, but I would absolutely love to live and work in Europe.  I certainly would like to visit again.  I love Denmark, but my preference would be Germany.  There are many reasons, but most of them revolve around my ability to speak the language, superior food and beer, cultural opportunities, and the ability to afford a car and drive it at an unsafe speed on the Autobahn.

Vee Dub

But all good things must come to an end, and so I will not overstay my visa and set the sprawling Danish state's gentle wrath upon myself.  For now, I have to say goodbye to Europe.  And it is sad to leave a place that you have called home for four months for another place so far away (even if that other place is your "real" home).  Hopefully, though, I will be able to bring some Danishness back with me (perhaps I shall replace my parents' cars with bicycles, fill the water pitcher with beer, and exact draconian taxes on my sister's piggy bank).  God knows I'm already hauling back Christmas presents.

So alas, another journey awaits.  A journey called United States Immigration and Customs Enforcement.

Postscript: One cultural tradition worth learning from Denmark is hygge (roughly pronounced "hyooggeh," but like you're being punched in the solar plexus) which translates roughly into "coziness."  The Germans have something similar called Gemütlichkeit.  It's how they get through the winters.  It can mean a lot of things, but mostly it means relaxing with friends and loved ones, probably with candles, music, food, drinks, and ascetically appealing IKEA furniture. 

Sort of like this.

 But hygge is like fight club.  There's only one rule.  You don't talk about the hygge.  If you mention how hygge-ly a situation is, you've ruined the hygge-lyness.  

Roman Holiday

So, better late than never.  About my trip to visit Lauren in Rome (November 25-27).

The flight -- SAS to Fiumicino -- was pleasant enough, and about two and a half hours long.

While I waited for the train to Termini, I bought a slice of pizza.  Even crappy airport pizza in Rome is about as good as average restaurant-ordered pizza in the U.S., and far better than pizza in Denmark (which is akin to soggy cardboard).

The Italian rail system is of Mussolini-era vintage, and amazingly, still runs on time (the buses are another matter; punctuality, safety, and comfort go right out the window).

Rome is a lot bigger and dirtier than Denmark.  It's a lot more chaotic.  But also a lot warmer.  The average daytime temperature was in the mid-60s, and it never dropped below around 50 at night.

Because Lauren isn't allowed to have guests, and refuses to break Italian laws (which seem to apply to everyone except Italians), I had to pay for one of two nights in this nice (budget) hotel room.

We spent our first evening walking around and looking at churches.  There are a lot of churches in Italy.  And unlike Danes, some Italians actually go to church.

There are also a lot of columns.

Here's the pantheon.

The function of this hole is to allow rain and pigeons to water and fertilize the floor.

Raphael is in that box.

Here's another one.  Lauren is going to have to help me with the names of all these churches.

Here's Saint Matthew, being pestered by an angel.

"Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi" (Fountain of the Four Rivers) at Piazza Navona

A street market

That night, we had aperitivo for dinner at a restaurant called Fluido.  You order a drink and then have access to a buffet.  It's supposed to be appetizers for before you go to dinner, but if you cheat, you can make it your entire meal.  Afterwards: gelato!

The next morning:

There are these fountains on the street that you can just drink out of.

 Make a donation to the church, and you can light a candle!

 When you're collecting mad tribute from your peasants, you can buy a lot of art!

A bridge crossing the Tiber

Another street market.  Lauren bought me some chocolate-covered almonds here.

A Roman road near the Colosseum.  The Romans probably stubbed their feet a lot.

Not pictured: a gladiator talking on his cell phone and smoking a cigarette.

I can't believe I'm feeling it!

"Altare della Patria," also called the "Wedding Cake."

Capitoline Hill

 The Forum, or what's left of it.

 If you throw a coin into the Trevi fountain (it must be done behind your back), you will return to Rome.

 Here's Lauren, hiding behind a rock near the fountain.

 This is on the main shopping street.  I really, really like this.  A lot.

 This obelisk stands in the Popolo.  The Romans stole a lot of obelisks from the Egyptians.  How they got them to Rome is anybody's guess -- they are big!

 The Spanish Steps

 We went to a restaurant called Dar Poeta after visiting the Steps.  This pizza has potatoes on it.  Hands down the best pizza I've ever had.

 It's my last day in Rome, but my plane doesn't leave until late.  So, here we are, walking to the Vatican.

 The Pope says hi from his window.

 St. Peter

 A Swiss guard.  Yes, they are still Swiss.  They also have to be single Catholic men, 19-30 years old, at least 5'8, at least high school graduates, who have undergone Swiss army training (although nearly all Swiss men have, under universal conscription).  And in spite of the uniforms, they also use the same weapons used by the Swiss army (firearms, but I'm sure they have the little folding knives, too).

 Walking back to the train station along a footpath on the Tiber.

 ...And saying goodbye.  I don't get to see her again until December 18. 

Aside from the plane back almost crashing into the Baltic in a windstorm, everything was A-OK.

Ever since coming back from Rome, I've started cooking a lot more pasta.

In fact, I've been eating more food in general.  The daylight cycle here in Copenhagen has been tricking me into thinking it's dinner time all the time.

This is 4:30 in the afternoon.  Really.