Godmorgen Danmark!

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! ♫