Hej igen
alle sammen!
I'm
back! And don't be fooled by the introduction,
my Danish is still FAR from fluent... Some may even say far
from existent... But I try. Nevertheless, a few months ago now I officially
passed my 'one year anniversary' of being a Danish resident. Hence, it seems
like time to once again put the metaphorical pen to the metaphorical paper and
write a little more about the teeny-tiny country in which I've made a life.
If you
want to read the first part of this, i.e. points 1-50, then head over here
--> http://mcpheet.blogspot.dk/2017/03/daring-to-be-danish.html
This time I got a bit waffly (not the dessert variety, rather Aussie slang for verbose), so this time there's perhaps a little more insight into the differences between Australia and Denmark, and, naturally, many more (alternative) facts. Nevertheless, grab a cup of coffee (black, of course, like your soul), sit back, and enjoy part two of Denmark through Australian eyes...
1. I had the pleasure of two Australian friends, as well
as my (obviously Australian) parents, visiting this "summer". I put
"summer" in inverted commas because, despite the insistence of my
Danish colleagues, I remain entirely unconvinced that Denmark is capable of
producing such a season. So far this year it has exceeded 25 degrees on one
occasion - that's right - one single, luckily memorable, Saturday in May (not
even technically a "summer" month). The rest of the time it has
been underwhelming, especially to an Australian attempting to escape their
winter, only to find that it is considerably colder, windier and rainier here
than back home. Nevertheless, there is a period after the flowers bloom, before
they wilt again, in which the days become exceptionally long and the Danes'
attire becomes courageously short, that I guess has to be called something...
2. On the same train of thought, I was under the impression
that it took approximately 10 days for the human body to acclimatise to a new
environment. So by now, I should be as acclimatised as I will ever be (40
times over), and still I have not once been game to leave the house without
some form of coat on.
3. Regardless of the constant coat requirement, ice cream
(or 'is' in Danish) is certainly a "summer" necessity. If I
could, I would live on liquorice ice cream year-round.
4. As my father will certainly attest to, if you eat ice
cream in Denmark, you must have it with guf. What is guf you ask? Basically
a gooey raw meringue-like substance that is commonly slathered onto the top of
a 3-scoop waffle cone - the first time you try it, it seems kind of disgusting,
but don't worry, you'll learn to love it.
5. As an aside, Danes speak wonderful English (in
fact, I believe they have even been crowned the best non-native English
speakers) until you ask for "just a little" guf; they simply
cannot understand this request, hence you will always be given all of
the guf, so be prepared for a sizeable meal.
6. Danes are very proud of their English skills, but if
you’re a native English speaker, you will still become the unofficial chief
editor of the department quite quickly.
7. "Flødeboller" (translated very eloquently
to 'cream balls') are yet another bizarre Danish treat you will learn (conform)
to love (tolerate). In all fairness, both the Summerbird liquorice and
raspberry varieties are utterly delicious (and of course the most expensive),
but the grocery store equivalents leave a lot to be desired, so it’s worth
investing.
8. As observed by one of the aforementioned Australian
friends, everybody in Denmark appears to be related. This is not entirely true,
but it is quite an aesthetically homogenous society, in both genetics and fashion,
such that at times it can be difficult to distinguish between
boyfriend/girlfriend brother/sister mother/son etc. pairs when out
people-watching.
9. Previously I made a comment that black is the only
colour worth wearing - turns out that this is primarily a winter/autumn thing (so
~90% of the year). In "summer" a number of people suddenly spring
out of their dark depressed hibernation and wear actual denim coloured jeans
and perhaps even a navy or maroon top. (How daring!)
10. Also on the topic of Danish attire, after over a year
I have still not mastered the art of cycling in a skirt. If the skirt is too
long, you risk possible bike-chain massacre... It the skirt is too short, you
will almost certainly chaff and risk public indecency... Mid-length is doable,
but gives a weird flapping situation around the knees and feels as though it
could turn inside out like an umbrella at any moment. Frankly, I think I'd best stick to jeans for now – I don't know how
those Danish women do it.
11. Birkenstock's or other similarly hideous leather
sandals are an essential wardrobe item. Frostbitten toes may be combated by
employing a stunning sock-and-sandal combination, though it's not something I
feel comfortable with recommending.
12. Despite all of these somewhat-laughable Danish fashion
trends, as a foreigner, at times I feel a strange need to conform. Although I
still wear my patchwork yoga pants around the house, and occasionally make it
to the shops in my beloved fluorescent orange FiveFingers, my wardrobe has
certainly acquired considerably more black and grey styles since migrating.
13. Also, if you need to go shopping for clothes in
Denmark, wait until January/June (sale season)
or just don’t. Everything is cheaper online or in Germany. This is also true
for alcohol, chips, candy, etc. which explains why the German border is lined
with warehouse-style shops to accommodate the bargain-hungry Danes.
14. On the topic of conforming, I am now a Danish design
fanatic (if I ever wasn't) and I will not be satisfied with life
until my apartment contains either a classic Jacobsen or Wegner armchair.
15. There’s a thing, particularly in North Jutland (the top of the pointy bit attached to
Germany), known as ‘Jante law’ which basically suggests that no one should
behave like, or believe that, they are better than anyone else. Funnily enough
a perfect-parallel to rural Queensland’s ‘Tall-poppy Syndrome’ (another maintain-the-mediocre attitude which
was the subject of a rather depressing persuasive speech I wrote as an angst-y
teen). Nevertheless, this may be
a major proponent in Denmark’s homogeneous and almost entirely middle-class
society.
16. Having almost all middle-class means that most jobs
pay pretty well. This is a hooray for society, but can be a little depressing when
you work 60 hours a week in the noble world of academia only to earn the same
as (probably less than) a
garbage-truck driver.
17. As a kid, presumably unless you're multi-lingual, you
don't realise that other places have other names for things. For example, I was
completely unaware that Australia was not called Australia everywhere, in
Denmark it is Australien, and on that note, Denmark is Danmark. This small
variation is understandable, but how Germany became Tyskland is way beyond
me.
18. The Danish language is an entire story on its own, so
I'll avoid opening that can of worms too widely. However, I do appreciate the
simplicity of some of their nouns - my favourite example is the Rhinoceros,
which is aptly named a 'Næsehorn' (i.e. nose-horn), followed by the
Hippopotamus, named 'Flodhest' (i.e. river-horse).
19. Don't be fooled, that's about the only part of the
language that is simple. For some reason, nouns are categorised completely at
random into -n and -t words. Verbs must be spelled and pronounced differently
depending on these seemingly arbitrary categories, along with the state of the
noun they accompany. Verbs and subjects must swap places following the
designation of a time or place. Verbs and adverbs must also swap place
sometimes, just for fun. There's no word for 'the', except when there is. In
seemingly every transformation rule (i.e. to plural nouns/ verbs, or to
comparative/ superlative verbs, etc.) there is an 'irregular group' where
literally no amount of grammar could help you understand why they are as they
are. And then there's the prepositions... Why I must be with a
bakery, butchery or fishmarket, to a party,
hairdressers or koncert, in a theatre, cinema or
school, and on a restaurant, museum or chemist will
probably never make sense to me.
20. Also, the word ‘fine’ (i.e. ‘fint’) actually means fine, or even almost good, compared to
our persistent paradoxical passive-aggressive misuse of the term to mean
it’s-really-not-at-all-fine-but-I-don’t-want-to-talk-about-it.
21. Moving on... Never did I ever think that I would be
waking at 03:00am to drive to the West Coast and watch the sunrise while
fishing for Mackerel, but guess what I did 4 times this "summer". I'm
not certain it's characteristic of Denmark, or just the Dane I reside with, but
there's definitely something special about catching and killing your own
dinner. Note: Beyond the 'blood-rush', my interest in fishing may
also be fuelled partly by the fact that the local fishing store offers free
beer and coffee to browsing customers - a truly civilised shopping experience.
22. As well, I do think that this exposure to the
'life-cycle' (both through fishing and their 'famed' public dissections) is
part of Danish culture, and may play a role in the incredibly low rate ~1.5% of
Danes that call themselves vegetarians, versus ~11% of Australians.
23. Globalisation is much more readily apparent here. In
Australia, we can grow most fruits and vegetables for at least some of the
year, so seeing a magnificent variety is pretty normal. Yet here, when it
rarely surpasses 20 degrees and there are mangoes, pineapples and bananas
galore in stores, you know something's up.
24. Who knew you could make ice cubes IN A BAG. No more
trying to balance that silly tray in a full freezer drawer. Whoever invented
that beautiful little self-sealing ice-maker should go global and make a
fortune. Side note: it has already gone global, 100-packs are available
in Ikea's everywhere! Also, it was actually invented by a Dane, or at least I
can reasonably assume so given the guy's surname was Nielsen.
25. Speaking of Nielsens... When you move to Denmark you
really realise the importance of a middle name for identification. Literally
every (well, almost every) Dane I know has a surname both ending in
'sen' and beginning, naturally, with one of the approved male Danish first
names, i.e.: Christen, Niels, Jens, Hans, Søren, Peder, Anders, Lars, Rasmus,
Mads, Poul, Morten, Knud, Jakob, etc. Of course, these names are also still
very commonly used as first names, so, yep, you guessed it, there are quite a
few Lars Larsens and Jens Jensens around. Interestingly, the middle name has
historically been hereditary like the surname, often coming from the mother's
side of the family, which is pretty cool.
26. Anything with sugar and flour in it shall henceforth
be called "kage" (cake).
27. Except pastries. Those delicious morsels we know as
‘Danishes’ are, of course, called ‘wienerbrød’ here (i.e. Vienna bread - I’m yet to ascertain what they are called in Vienna,
or how they can be classed as bread).
28. Never have I ever seen marzipan or liquorice consumed
in so many different ways nor in such vast quantities.
29. You will not survive here as a ‘Paleo’, vegan or any
other fad dieter. The near-daily almost ritualistic consumption of bread, cake
and pork, combined with the obscene price of nuts, will overwhelm you and
eventually you will surrender… but balance is the key, right? Or maybe that explains why I see Danes out
running at all hours of the day and night.
30. Going to the Doctor is an adventure, not in the least
because General Practices may be situated in six different apartments over
several floors of an otherwise old residential building. You also have very
little choice in where you go - your doctor is assigned to you by the city council
based on availability. However, this, in addition to the electronic
prescription system linked to your social security number, makes
'doctor-shopping' near impossible.
31. Having a social security number, or more accurately a
Central Person Registry number, also makes the postal service much more
efficient. With one online form, suddenly all of my mail comes to my new
address. MAGIC! I’m certain that
various accounts and letters still arrive at Australian addresses I haven’t
lived at in years thanks to Australia Post’s brilliance and Australia’s general
lack of registration centrality.
32. The mobile network here is the future. I pay under $30
AUD/month for unlimited data, calls and texting within Denmark, and a sizeable
data allowance to use anywhere else in the EU. I was going to make a
cost-comparison to Australia, but at present no phone company is even able to
offer unlimited data there.
33. Parental leave is a thing, meaning both Mum’s and
Dad’s get a little time off to spend with fresh minions. The use of day-care
services is also strongly encouraged, and heavily subsidised meaning long-term
stay-at-home parents are rare.
34. Speaking of day-care, just last week I saw a gaggle of
3-year olds out on excursion in the city. Not something you’d probably ever see
in Australia. Apparently, there is just one consent form at the beginning of
the year and then the teachers/carers can take the kids basically wherever they
please. Australian schools/parents would
not cope – I still remember having to
get my mother’s consent for a trip to the ‘Town Hall’ which was literally
across the road from my school.
35. Europeans are known for partying late - where in Aus
we start drinking in the evening and party until around 2:00am (4:00am if
you're really going hard at it), Europeans in general don't head out to hit
the town until midnight or so. The issue in Denmark is that people forget this
should also mean starting to drink later... The 'Fredagsbar' (which Google Translate
simply and aptly translates to 'Friday') means drinking can start as early
as 2:00pm and still continue until 7:00am or later.
36. On special occasions, this is even worse. Perhaps the
epitome of Danish drinking culture is Aalborg Carnival, which begins promptly
with beer and breakfast at 7:00am in preparation for a full 24-hours of
fancily-dressed beer-haze.
37. Peeing in the street is illegal, if you're caught, but
at Carnival and other such street events there will be a woman, or seven,
squatting behind every hedge you see. Maybe
I’m just sheltered, but this was my first experience of such a spectacle.
38. I swear, nowhere else in the world rolls out their
national flag on birthday gift-wrap or uses it as a Christmas tree decoration.
I'm on board with this now though, I think it's adorable.
39. Speaking of birthdays, each region has a specialty
'cake' that is the designated birthday cake. Around north-west Jutland it
appears to be a sort-of lolly-pizza made into the shape of a man, whose neck is
cut by the lucky little birthday boy or girl.
40. Older birthdays, however, may not be so fun,
especially if you haven't convinced someone to 'put a ring on it'. Unmarried
25-year olds have the joy of a freezing bucket-bath followed by cinnamon
attack, seemingly often while tied to a light pole. Unmarried 30-year olds are
also in luck, but for them it's a shower in a few kilograms of pepper!
41. Midsummer is also marked by bizarre and slightly morbid
traditions - most notably children often spend the entire day making a female
figure or 'witch' to sacrifice on the bonfire that evening. Funnily enough, the
Danes never consider that this would be construed as very odd behaviour, until
they have to explain the ritual to a non-Dane.
42. Fun fact: Australia is 180 times the size of Denmark. For
a more easily imagined comparison, it is just under 3 times the area of
Brisbane (Australia’s ‘largest’ city in
terms of area).
43. Second fun fact: Denmark’s population is around 5.79
million, which is about 1.5 times Sydney (i.e.
Australia’s most populated city, though contrary to apparently popular European
belief, not the capital).
44. It’s thoroughly pleasing that one can take a Sunday
stroll through a Danish forest knowing that the most dangerous animal is a tic,
which if not identified in 48 hours, may in some cases cause paralysis. The
other day I wandered down a nearby forest path to pick blackberries and caught
sight of an adorable little deer. It is
like being in wonderland.
45. For comparison, in Australia, as you may know,
everything wants to kill you. In fact, it makes me feel like a true survivor
knowing that I made it through over 20 years of my life on that continent.
Especially given that sightings of: brown snakes in my backyard, Redback spiders
in my house (and on one unfortunate
occasion, in my bed) and Box Jelly-fish (the most lethal of Australia’s creatures) on Christmas beach holidays; were not as uncommon as I would’ve
liked.
46. Following on from this, you could imagine why I was
utterly terrified when a friend’s children insisted on plucking jellyfish from
the Fjord with their bare hands to poke and play with… but then I remembered,
we’re in Denmark, where everything is rainbows and butterflies.
47. Believe it or not, I have been sunburnt in Denmark. I
don’t know if this is a testament to the Danish weather’s very occasional
glory, my exceptionally pasty complexion, or global warming. Probably a combination of all of the above.
48. On that note, global warming will almost certainly
eventually turn Australia into a barren wasteland, while Denmark will likely
become a tropical paradise… and yet it’s the Danes who are leading the world in
renewable energy technology. Oh, the
irony!
49. Windows here don’t have flyscreens, nor do they have
10 degree safety limits. You could just fall right out! Then again, there are also a lot less bugs to keep out...
50. There are seemingly very few Australians in Denmark.
Either that, or they integrate very well. Everyone tells me that they know
someone whose roommate is Australian, or that there’s a cricket club somewhere
comprised of a number of the elusive creatures, but I still find this difficult
to believe. In fact, the only Australian I have met in North Jutland (outside
of those whom I have temporarily imported), in over a year here, was a
gentleman who tried a pick-up line on me, in Danish, in the grocery store...
Despite all my complaining, and the fact that a ‘beautiful day’ now refers to any day on which the sun makes an appearance and/or the wind settles to below 5m/s, I do love Danish life. It's fun and safe and everything works pretty well... [Cue music] ♫ ...but no matter how far, or how wide I roam, I'll still call Australia home! ♫
