If I Wanted Same, I Would Have Stayed Home

The thing about study abroad is that things are constantly changing. The idea of a “routine” or an “average day” is basically one that I have had to learn to let go of, which as challenging as that has been, I like to think of it as exciting. Here’s a clear example of what I mean.

Just as I was getting used to my hour long commute using at least three different modes of transportation, my host mom’s delicious cooking and erratic schedule, and even the cat’s creepy midnight meowing, I decided to move. A lot of small things lead me to this decision. Small things that, at first, seemed like no big deal but soon piled up and made me uncomfortable, and not in a the good “new experience” kind of way. To not go into those details, I’ll say that,in the end, we basically had conflicting expectations about what a homestay relationship should be. Expectations that neither one of us was willing to compromise.

So, after some difficult conversations both with her and with our housing department, I packed my bags and moved to a Kollegium 30 minutes closer to the city, where I have my own room, and my own tiny bathroom with an interesting concept of a shower. I have my own space, which I really enjoy, but I also get to share a kitchen with 25 other students, mostly Danish students but also other international students.

Here, I have to make my own food, which has been an adventure within itself. Over the last week, my nutrition has suffered, but I think I am finally on the right path. Although. today, I over-cooked some chicken and under-cooked some broccoli, but I ate it anyway, not only because I was hungry, but because I made it all by myself. There's hope that with practice, my food tastes better.

But what is really exciting about this new place is that I get to interact (and maybe even befriend) Danes my age! I have only been in the kitchen a handful of times, and have already engaged in conversation with several of my hallmates. Once I get them talking, they are super friendly. They even try to hide their laughter when I attempt to pronounce food items in Danish. My aunt told me that I sound like the English GPS when it reads Danish street names, and I think my new floor mates would agree.