So, Danes Bike
And apparently so do I. Now, let me take you through my average morning commute. Before sunrise, I’m out the house, locking the door in a very particular way before clicking on the lights on my bike and unlocking its back wheel. Soon, I'm riding uphill through beautiful Danish countryside, while a rooster greets me good morning alongside other Danish folk walking their dogs, until I reach the bus stop.
After locking my bike on an empty rack, I wait at the bus stop and finally flash my fancy pass to its disinterested driver before staring out the window at the sunrise for six complicated sounding stops. Then, I transfer to the S train, an efficient and rather clean above ground metro to ride into the city, in almost complete silence, surrounded by hundreds of Danes, also on their long morning commute.
After routine announcements reminding passengers to watch over their belongings, I arrive at Vesterport from where I walk for less than ten minutes, vigilant of the heavy bike traffic amongst the historic architecture and multilingual signs.
Now, I’ll talk a little about the food. Danes are obsessed with licorice. I personally don’t like it. Also, rye bread is a part of most meals, or, at the very least, a prominent part of lunch. SInce there are more pigs in Denmark than Danes, you can bet we eat a lot of pork. Also a lot of Herring. Overall, the food is fresh and different, mostly in a good way.
After being here for a month, I still have yet to interact with many Danes other than freaking them out with a friendly smile during my long commute. I guess that is not the norm here. Anyway, these are some of my notes from the few Danes that I have gotten to interact with.
Two weeks ago, I made tacos for my host mom’s friends who came for dinner. The tacos were subpar to say the least, but since our guests had little to compare it to, the dish was a success. Although, they ate them with a fork and a knife, which I can’t quite get over. That couple was rather fun to be around and they introduced me to the infamous dry Danish humor and subtly judged the addition of sugar and milk to my coffee.
I have also gotten to talk extensively with a guy not much older than me about the Danish school system. He attempted to explain their grading scale which goes to 12 but does not have every number. I am still confused. He also explained their examinations as they often include an oral presentation where students must present on any given topic, and “sell it” to two teachers, one who taught them the whole semester and an impartial, visiting one serving to eliminate bias.That just seems intimidating to me, but he assured me that it was rather effective.
The last “Dane” I’ve gotten to know is an American girl from San Francisco who complained about the Danish cold climate and its citizens matching attitude. She explained that it is rather difficult to make real connections because the average Dane is rather reserved. I can’t say I disagree.
Despite some of its clear downfalls and challenging moments, after a month of living, and truly experiencing, this adventure, I can also say that it has been easy to feel at home.
