i am no longer in denmark

Since I am no longer in Denmark I decided to switch my infrequent updates over to ESCAPE ILLOCITY so that I wouldn't be a liar. I was going to add one last post about my last two weeks of travel but there wouldn't be much substance to them so I decided to pass on that.

i stole a goal

I was playing in my last match for my football team before I leave Denmark. All season long I hadn't scored an official goal (the one I did score came against a team that showed up too late so the ref left so we just scrimmaged them for fun) and I decided today I had to get one. After we came back from an early deficit we had a comfortable 8-5 lead. My teammates were trying to get me the ball because I've sort of become the team's token shitty player on the basis of I am the shittiest player on the team. In my defense, everyone else is European and therefore better than me.

Since the other team was down by 3 goals they started playing aggressively with their keeper. He was coming up to the midfield line on throw ins and corner kicks. With less than a minute to go we caught him off guard and it became a 2v1 with me, my teammate and the goalie. The player on my team had the ball and kicked the ball over the head of the keeper. It was on target and had the speed to get in the goal. I chased it from the moment it was kicked and when it was about 1 foot from the goal I redirected the ball in with my head, not only scoring my first goal but stealing one from my teammate. Since he had scored earlier in the game I feel no remorse for my actions. After all it was a nice pass.

So ends my European playing career. The whistle blew soon after and I walked away undefeated with one goal to my name. I think I may have a chance at making the US team.

12 days to go

In 12 days I will no longer be in Denmark and this rarely updated travel blog will be inappropriately titled. I'm leaving for London that day so I can be at a bar during the US/England World Cup match. That should be interesting. After I am flying east because it is a lot cheaper. Prague for 5 days, Budapest for 4 and Berlin for 3. I'll come back to Copenhagen for one last night and then leave for Texas in the morning.

I don't want to go to Texas.

I also managed to hurt my foot playing football. I walk like their is a pebble stuck in my shoe, except instead of being a minor annoyance the pebble has gone vato on me and is now shiving the entire right side. Not cool.

I also watched Eurovision for the first time. And I voted in it. Who did I vote for? Moldova. Sadly they did not win. Saxophone and power violin wins my vote 9 out of 10 times.

weather

Everything about Copenhagen is awesome except the weather.

Bad weather follows me everywhere I go. It's like I'm in Loony Toons and I have that black cloud following me around just raining on my head.

It's May and I'm lucky if it breaks 10 degrees (and that's Celsius, bitch.) It's currently raining outside and I'm supposed to play a football game in a few hours (that's soccer, bitch.)

At least the bad weather forces me to actually spend time working on my final paper. If anyone wants to read a 15-20 page summary exploring masculinity in blaxploitation and hood films let me know.

I've also learned to cook since I came to Denmark. I can now bake bread, cook a whole chicken, roast roast beef, and saute like a champ among other things.

I'm procrastinating right now because I have to finish my aforementioned paper, finish an article about the Danish version of Comic-Con, start writing my second 15-20 page paper about Soren Kierkegaard, and finish reading a book that has absolutely nothing to do with any of the above but I only have 200 pages or so left and I hate not finishing books in a timely manner.

I also need to buy my plane tickets to England, France, and some other places I haven't decided yet. I also need to hope that the volcano in Iceland erupts again on June 27th so my plane gets grounded and I can stay in Copenhagen longer. Fingers crossed.

make money money money

One of the many perks of studying in Denmark is that I don't really need a job. After serving almost a 3 year sentence at H&M, I finally have my freedom from the repressive world of retail. The only problem is that everything in Copenhagen is expensive and I spent too much money in Italy. So while I don't need a job it would sure be nice to have one.

Instead I have to be a little resourceful with how to make money. Since prostitutes need to pay taxes here that's out the window. Since selling my body is not an option, I will sell my dignity in its place.

I write articles on occasion for an English language newspaper in Copenhagen. The pay is decent, the articles are not required to be too long, and I occasionally get free stuff. A few weeks ago I took a friend to see an opera that was absolutely terrible. So I have that going for me.

Tomorrow I am going to some sort of economics conference. I think I may get some free food out of it and I only have to write a 500 word article. I also get extra money because this is going in the real part of the newspaper not the weekly entertainment guide I usually write for.

In another effort to earn some money last week I participated in an economic experiment. It was simple game theory. Essentially you get 20 points at the start of each round and you have a choice to invest some in the group pot or to hoard some in your private account. You get to keep whatever you put in your private account but everything in the group account has a multiplier that splits between the 5 people in your group. That means if all 5 people put 20 points in the group pot then everyone gets 40 points. If everyone keeps there own you only keep your 20, and of course you can put any varying amount that in turn reflects how much you keep and how much everyone else gains. There were different rules for each round but that was the essence of the experiment.

John Nash would have said some anti-Semitic shit if he saw this experiment. Anyone that is a near functional-retard can tell that if you put all of your points in the pot and everyone else does too then you make a lot of money. Every 5 points are worth 1kr, and 5kr is about 1 dollar. Assuming everyone played the smart way you would end up with about 45 dollars. NOPE!

I should had known there were going to be problems when it started. The experiment is suppose to last 2 hours. At the beginning of the 1st round you have to answer some basic math questions to show you understand how the experiment works. These were 4th grade level problems. And yet it took about 15 minutes for all 25 people to answer them before the experiment could begin. Then after the 1st round concluded we had to answer 10 more questions because they added two new types of rules. Another 20 minute wait. At the end of the experiment which had already run long by about 20 minutes (i.e. they accounted for how stupid people could be by making the experiment longer than necessary AND THE IDIOTS STILL TOOK TOO LONG) they asked us some more really easy math questions.

1. A bat and a ball cost $1.10 in total. The bat costs $1.00 more than the ball. How much does the ball cost?
2. If it takes 5 machines 5 minutes to make 5 widgets, how long would it take 100 machines to make 100 widgets?
3. In a lake, there is a patch of lily pads. Every day, the patch doubles in size. If it takes 48 days for the patch to cover the entire lake, how long would it take for the patch to cover half of the lake?

I am pretty sure the people that designed the experiment just copied/pasted these from the same website I just google'd it from.

I ended up earning a little less than 30 dollars. I spent that money on beer and cigarettes.

While I haven't done so yet due to a nagging cold, I am also planning on participating in a medical experiment. They take some blood, give you a vaccine for something, and then you just have to come back a few weeks later and give some more blood. It's worth 50 dollars to them which is better than what the Red Cross gives me for twice as much blood (who wants free ice cream over 50 dollars?)

Except for the money that I spend on alcohol the rest of these earnings are being saved so I can afford to travel. Just through my newspaper gig alone I've earned enough to cover the cost of airfare for my eastern European excursion. The best part is all of this is 100% better than any single day I have ever worked at H&M, Best Buy, Office Depot or Albertsons because I have not had to deal with one single fucking customer.

failing hard in italy

I've been meaning to write down what I did for the second part of my trip to Italy but I was sidetracked by my laziness. Going to school for one day a week for only 4 hours leaves you with a lot of free time. When you then have a week off from school due to Easter it becomes a challenge to even get out of bed. Going from having little responsibilities to absolutely none is tough to bounce back from. Tomorrow I have to go to class again and at some point I have to start writing my final papers. There is a good chance that I won't start for another month.

So back to my awesome journey of self-discovery while I backpacked through Italia (you see this is how the locals call it so I'm better than you for using it). After Missy and I left Bologna we decided to take a day trip through Florence. Normally this would be awesome because Florence is a not that big of a place so we can see all the awesome shit in one day. Except on Mondays, because the Uffize is closed that day and the botanical garden is also closed on the first Monday of every month. Guess which day we went?

While the two places we most wanted to go were closed, there were still a lot of other cool things to check out. The Basilica di Santa Croce was pretty rad and the weather was nice for the first half of the day. After awhile though the weather took a turn for the worse and walking around became much less enjoyable.

Towards the end of our stay there we sat outside the Basilica on the steps listening to music, waiting for the time to come to leave for the train station, when all the sudden a police van came out of nowhere. Off in the distance we heard shouting and chanting and decided to take a look. It turns out it was a protest (non-violent and therefore lame) about foreign workers rights. Not as cool as I would have hoped for and unfortunately nowhere close to being a riot. My dream to partake in a riot will have to wait for another day.

Once that settled down we decided to book it to Siena. We took an earlier train and hoped that we would be able to find Missy's friend without having her number or an address. While we were on the train one of the people sitting not too far from us received a ticket for something, probably not having a ticket. I couldn't understand what she was saying but she was pretty pissed about it and the meter maid had to get backup. Sadly for the second time in the day the riot I wished for was not meant to be.

Eventually we were able to meet up with Missy's friend and settle down. The next 2 1/2 days were spent mostly relaxing. Who knew that going on vacation could be so tiring? Thankfully Siena is not that big of a city if you stay inside the walls so I was able to do some exploring while Missy stayed in bed trying to overcome her cold.

That night, sadly, did not end well for me. I came to Denmark with the goal of not making an red shirted ass of myself. That lasted maybe a week at best. In Italy? Day 6. We decided to go to a club that night and before hand had a small pre-party at the apartment. This led to drinking games in which I re-learned a valuable lesson: do not play drinking games with half a bottle of Jamison.

I should have known it was a bad sign for me when my reflexes were so slow that a car slowly ran over my heel as we waited outside the entrance but I persevered for some odd, idiotic reason. Within what seemed like 5 minutes I had ruined someone's jacket with my weak stomach and left. Covered in my own filth and unable to locate anyone that I came with, I decided to leave and find my way back to the apartment. I had no idea where I was, no idea how I was going to get inside, and no way of knowing when anyone would come and let me in. I drunkenly stumbled until I found the Piazza del Campo and used that as my navigational point to orientate myself. Due to some sort of miracle I also was able to run into Theresa's roommate who was also heading home from the club.

I threw my clothes in the washing machine, cleaned up and passed out on the couch. So much for dignity and self-respect.

The rest of the trip in Siena was less eventful and less embarrassing save for my poor navigational abilities. I can find an apartment that I've only been to twice in the dark while drunk yet I can't find a giant park with a map and directions. Siena is a city that exists only to pinpoint all my failings as a person.

Rome was much better. At first I was worried because everything on the way to our hostel was dirty and covered in shitty graffiti but once we settled in and got out of the bad parts of the city it was great. The Colosseum was quite the spectacle. The best part might have been the guys standing around outside dressed up in crappy Halloween costumes to look like Roman soldiers. They stood around chain smoking and asking, nay, yelling at all the tourists to take a picture with them for money. I declined.


Once again my terrible luck came into play when the weather decided to piss all over my travels by raining. We made it back to the hostel and took it somewhat easy because we wanted to get up early and go to the Vatican before there was a super long line to get in.

Except for the part where I was molested and the Pope covered it up, everything about Vatican City was amazing. Also I lied, the molestation wasn't too bad either (low hanging fruit is my favorite). St. Peter's Basilica was easily the most impressive of the churches we went to. I have no idea how something like that could have been built without today's technology. I'm going to assume slave labor and human rights abuses made it a lot easier.

The Vatican Museum was overwhelming with regards to how much impressive art work is jammed in there. I could have spent an hour just looking at the ceilings of the first hallway and walked away awestruck. However since I'm not an art history major or a sentimental loser, that situation did not occur. Out of everything that we saw in there my favorite was easily the School of Athens. That painting has been in so many different textbooks that I've had to read that seeing it in person was kind of cool.


The Sistine Chapel on the other hand was a tad disappointing. It isn't a lot of fun craning your neck to look at the ceiling while the guards yell 'No photo!' 5 times a minute. Since I am the original bad ass though I went ahead and took really crappy photos all stealth like. They turned out horrible but that's besides the point.

To continue a familiar theme, it began to rain again. At this point Missy and I went our separate ways because she was getting sick of me. I can't say I blame her either. While she went off exploring one part of the city I did my own thing. We eventually met back up at the hostel, ate dinner and went around exploring some more with some people we met.

The next day the weather was perfect, the sun was shining, and I was on an airplane back to Copenhagen to meet up with my friend from back home. If you believe the saying that people make there own luck then I am the worst luck maker in the world. I couldn't fabricate a good time to save my life.

working under the table

While I would have appreciated a better headline and text underneath the picture, I can't complain. I got paid to write something so at least I have a counter next time someone asks me what I plan to do with my English degree. This week I am interviewing a Danish singer and going to an opera. All for 30 bucks a pop. Considering I am on a bread and rice diet because I have no money I'm not going to complain. I would probably write just for a cheeseburger.

Full text below:

Within the last three years, Adam Young has gone from living at home with his parents to touring the world. His rise to prominence began, as so many other modern-day success stories have, on the social networks and streaming media sites of the internet. Since he first started recording music and putting it on his MySpace page, Young's solo project Owl City has tallied over 17 million page views, with some of his songs having been listened to over 26 million times. It's important to note that creating a successful website for your music doesn't always equate with tangible returns. And it's often been observed that the process of going viral can be the death knell for a young artist's career. Musicians such as the Black Kids have seen their internet success met with financial distraught. For Owl City, however, the attention has only continued to grow.

The Minnesota-born singer began his musical career in 2007 while his parents were out of town. He took advantage of the opportunity, and his troubles with insomnia, and spent the nights writing music. From these sessions came his first hit song "Hello Seattle". He self-released an EP and a full-length album that gained Young a massive following on MySpace. His viral success led to his signing with Universal Republic in early 2009. Since then, his single “Fireflies” has taken the number-one spot on music charts all over the world, reaching from his home country to the United Kingdom and even Denmark.

Given that the majority of Young's fans were initially drawn to him through links and embeds on the internet, it's not surprising that he has also picked up his share of mainstream critics, some more histrionic than others. Rolling Stones describe his music as "serious mush, like an amorous e-mail you'll regret in the morning" while the Guardian criticizes Young as having a "wide-eyed ingenue persona". Ironically both fans and foes of Owl City tend to agree that Young's lyrics can be described as lighthearted, without much substance, and even silly. But no matter the volume or frequency of his haters' comments, it seems clear that people have taken a shine to this style, in certain sets leading to Owl City's overwhelming popularity. A stand-out amongst the rest of Young's creative output, “Vanilla Twilight” works best as a showcase for his characteristic blithesome lyrics. The lyrics may lack the grace of Shakespeare's sonnets, but their subject matter, Young's high school love who moved away, is instantly identifiable and relatable by Owl City’s audience and fans. His simplistic lyrics have a striking quality to them that lulls you into a place where you don't happen to care. It's an odd harmony that draws you in against better judgment. Young attributes his musical influences to disco music and European electronic artists such as Dutch trance DJ Armin van Buuren and Scottish IDM group Boards of Canada. Also prominent is his vocal styling, eerily reminiscent of Ben Gibbard’s singing with dormant side project The Postal Service. The product of these influences can be seen in songs like Owl City's chart-topping single “Fireflies.”

Young's homemade combination of smooth music and easy lyrics has drawn in audiences worldwide. Owl City is the musical equivalent of "The Goonies" or "Predator," a campy movie you watch every time it is on television even though you have seen it more times than you can count. The plot stays the same, but the enjoyment you take from it doesn't lessen over time. Owl City's music is a throwback to the era where people gathered around and listened to music because they wanted to dance and enjoy themselves, not listen to lead singers preach awareness of various causes or belt out impassioned songs which only they themselves considered meaningful in any way. Owl City's music is straightforward and without nuance, it speaks a simpler and more universal language, and that's exactly why it has taken the world by storm.

adventures in italy (milan and bologna)

Italy is awesome. EasyJet is not. What's the point of buying a six pack of beer at the airport that says you are not allowed to drink the beer until in the air, but as soon as you get in the air and start celebrating, a flight attendant tells you that you're not allowed to? There is no point. I'm just glad I was able to drink 2 before being scolded.

Milan is not that great of a city to visit. About a week before I left for Italy I was warned by multiple people that it really isn't a tourist destination. I disregarded their advice mostly because I didn't do any of the planning for the itinerary of the trip and also because EasyJet, even with their draconian alcohol policy, is the cheapest way to fly to Italy from Copenhagen and they only fly into Milan.

Within the confines of the city there is not much to do except get drunk and shop in expensive stores. Since I am poor, and poorly dressed, I did more of the former than the latter. The first night in Milan we went to a discotheque. Since at least once a month I have to attempt to go outside in inclement weather without wearing my jacket I chose to do so in Milan. I thought it would be okay since it was 8 degrees outside and I have slowly adjusted to the negative temperatures of Copenhagen. Since I have shitty luck due to my fondness for doing dumb things it of course started to rain once we were too far enough from the apartment to turn around.

The next day just involved doing the few touristy things possible in Milan while watching my compatriots shop. While we were outside the Milan Cathedral a grifter proceeded to put bird seed in my hand and start clapping so that pigeons would eat out of my hand. This was slightly amusing at first but my naivety led me to believe that this guy was just being friendly. After I told him no more he told me it would be 20 euros. I've done many dumb things in my life and bought many things I instantly regretted but I was not going to give him that much money. I offered him the change I had in my pocket which was 2.50 euro. I am still an idiot for giving him anything at all but at least I saved 17.50. Please don't correct any fallacies with the previous statement.

The next day we set forth to Bologna to meet up with Missy's friend Elena. Once we were there I finally was able to eat a slice of pizza (therefore allowing me to wax poetic about the pizza I ate in Italy for the rest of my life) and we settled in. Missy and her friend left for another city to go to a Bloody Beatroots concert leaving me behind. My original plan was to just walk around aimlessly and see what happened. Likely nothing would have. However one of Elena's roommates, Jerry, spotted my bottle of Jamison and after we shared a drink and a cigarette he offered to take me to the Irish pub where their other roommate worked.

The bar was interesting. I watched a football game (another thing to add to my get-back-from-Europe-and-be-a-douche list) while drinking beer and trying to communicate with people who didn't speak English very well. At one point I was under the impression that a guy from Uruguay wanted to fight me because I didn't speak Spanish. I later found out that he was just really drunk. After a few hours at the bar we stopped by another place and grabbed a drink of whiskey (for free which made it even better) and I was dropped off at a new establishment while Jerry went off to find an ATM that would accept his card.

On the wall of this place they were using a projector to show clips of what I believe were 1920s cartoons. Had I been on drugs my head might have exploded Scanners style. I was way too drunk at this point and was just waiting for Jerry to get back so I could leave. Instead I ended up joining tables with a group of Italians and answering all of their questions about America. Someone finally asked me if I owned a gun. One of them, whose English was limited to just saying California, gave me a lighter. If you press a button on the side of the lighter the bottom lights up and projects a picture of a nude lady. I will treasure it forever. As the night came to a close I hung out with them outside and was treated with more gifts. Both being CDs, one of an American band called Good Riddance and the other being an Italian singer named Vasco Rossi.

The next day I woke up to find Missy and Elena had returned. I also found out that her window shutters do an amazing job at keeping out sunlight because we didn't wake up until close to 3 pm. We went on a long walk (3.5 km) uphill to see the Sanctuary of the Madonna di San Luca. I wish I could say that I wasn't short of breath the entire time but that would be a lie. Since we arrived right at closing time we were also treated with being locked inside the church and having to take some weird back way outside.

The rest of the day was mostly uneventful. We were all still tired from the day before (a reoccurring trend) so we took it easy with dinner and relaxing. Bologna ended up being my favorite city of the trip. It wasn't too large and I was able to explore the city by myself at points. 1 1/2 days was the perfect amount of time.

classes

I thought that I would have trouble adjusting to college again after taking last quarter off. Nope this is still easy. And while I would like to say it's because I'm incredibly intelligent it is mainly because I have class for 4 hours on Tuesday in two 2-hour blocks. I have a six day weekend every week. To celebrate, I am going to Italy on Thursday. Why? Because why not.

The one problem with my schedule is my choice of classes. I like both of them but one of them, my English class, is about African-American Urban Literature. And as the only American in my class, and possibly the only non-whitey, I have become to go-to guy for all things American. Who was Booker T. Washington? Ask the American. Plessy versus Ferguson? Ask the American.

The worst question was when I was asked to explain the difference between the ghetto and the hood. My terrible answer was met with the follow up question "do you ever go into the ghetto?" I may have given the worst answer possible short of saying something with the n-word in it. My respond: "Well, uh, no because I live far away from the bad parts and I don't really have a reason to go there and uh...there is the stereotype that you're more likely to get into trouble in those areas." Text cannot properly account for my bumbling and mid-sentence realization that I sounded incredibly elitist and racist. It's a good thing that my class is mostly white because I'm afraid at this point I would combine my pseudo-racism, painful awkwardness, and my inability to learn anyone's name and refer to a black student as "that one."

recap amsterdam

My trip to Amsterdam came and went without that much cause for excitement. I wish I had some elaborate story to tell about what I did there but it was your pretty standard break from school. The problem with living in Europe is that in dramatically reduces how cool it is to travel in Europe. When I first got here I was amazed that the Europeans I would talk to had never been to so many of the places I wanted to visit but within a month of being here Europe already seems old-hat to me. This is probably more of a failure on my end than anything thing.

With regards to what actually happened when I was in Amsterdam things were pretty standard I suppose. The first two days were spent seeing the sights: museums, which were okay but not as impressive as the ones in Copenhagen; coffeshops, which were a lot different than what I had imagined; the Red Light District, which I bet is cooler when it is not raining outside; and the touristy canal tour. I tried Dutch cuisine which was good and affordable. I must say I have a new found appreciation for any country or city that is less expensive than Copenhagen. I felt like a baller being able to buy a Diet Coke.

The joys I felt from feeling full were replaced with the pains of food poisoning. My goal when I came to Copenhagen was not to make an ass out of myself. So far I have kept that goal in tact in Denmark. In Amsterdam I may have forever ruined Americans for two young Spanish ladies who had the misfortune of sharing the same room with me in the hostel. Around 4 or 5 in the morning I was faced with the sudden urge that whatever I had in my stomach was not meant to be there for long. I quickly climbed out of the top bunk bed in which I was supposed to be asleep only to realize that the bathroom, a mere 10 yards away, was an impossible goal. I realized this while I ran over to the in-room sink that was situated only a few feet from the currently sleeping/soon to be pissed lady and emptied the contents of my stomach. I eventually made it to the bathroom to finish the job.

After cleaning the mess that mostly stayed in the sink and listening to the Spanish ladies speak to one another in hushed tones picking up only a few words I was able to get some sleep. I would like to say that my embarrassment ended then and there but those who know me know that it wouldn't be like me to not exacerbate the situation. I felt slightly better with a couple hours of rest leading me to make the decision to go out in the morning to one last museum before my pass expired. I'm going to cut a long story short and just say that there are very few things worse than trying to ask for the bathroom inside a museum and having to stop mid-sentence because the water you drank and the toast you ate in the morning have also decided they needed to immediately vacate the premise. I assume one of the things worse than that is being the person who had to clean up my mess. Sorry.

I went back to the hostel after that and I stayed in bed until the next day. To make up for my shitty luck with food I was blessed with awesome luck gambling. Anyone who has had the misfortune of hearing my bad beat story knows that to my grave I will curse the names of Cici and Chang who together forcibly raped me of my funds and my dignity during my first trip to Las Vegas. While I may not have caught the name of the two blackjack dealers who hooked it up last Saturday they are now my only reason for believing in karma. I nearly lost my last forty Euros but instead walked away with an extra 100. With that money I wiped almost 3/4ths of my expenses from Amsterdam off the table. Hostel? Free! Food? Free! Feeling like Mathew Lesko every time I write free? Free!

I'm sure I am violating some sort of economic fallacy by reveling in my winnings but I am going to go ahead and claim ignorance for the sake of happiness. It was fun, I'm going to go again at some point, but I am glad to be back in Copenhagen.

amsterdam!!!!

Since I will be in Amsterdam the next few days it is going to be hard for me to keep this updated because I will be busy studying fine art at the Van Gogh museum.

When I get back you can expect lots of posts where I exaggerate how awesome everything in Amsterdam is. I'll probably compare it to how things are in the States (fuck you Milt) and act downtrodden that I won't be able to stay here forever. I'll even talk about how I stayed away from the tourist traps and got to know the real Amsterdam--the one that only the locals know about. Yeah, my journey to being that guy is almost complete.

Then again one might say in my attempt to not be that guy I am becoming the guy that tries too hard not to be that guy. So am I the "dude playing the dude, disguised as another dude" or "a dude who has no idea what dude he is and claims to know what dude he is"? I am afraid that my attempts at self-deprecating humor is leaning closer towards one-trick pony status that always goes for the low hanging fruit than actual poignant witticisms. Perhaps my error lay in trying to be funny. After all, this is a travel blog: it's suppose to be bad and poorly written.

I will be back Saturday night and class starts on Tuesday. At some point in between I will hopefully have something interesting to say about Amsterdam.

probably the best beer in the world and i had no camera

The Carlsberg factory may not have been the most exciting place to visit in Copenhagen but the cheap beer more than made up for it. Had I brought my camera I would be able to elaborate more on what I witnessed but I left it at home. It wasn't terribly exciting however since it was a self-guided tour. Reading is fun and all but I really came for one reason: the classic beer bottle collection the beer.

The beer was awesome. If I come back home without having developed any of the typical come-back-from-studying-abroad-characteristics like shoehorning it into every conversation or adopting local colloquialisms into everyday conversation (or starting a travel blog--shit) then I will certainly be forced to be the guy that sneers at American beer and drinks only the finest European microbrews. Except that I'm cheap so I may just do the former and not the latter.

Either way, the beer sommelier was knowledgeable and recommended a Carlsberg beer that had 10% alcohol. In the immortal words of Uncle Jemima's pure mash liquor, it means it will get you fucked up for less. As an added benefit it also tastes much better than King Cobra, Old English, Country Club or any of the other various malt liquors I drank in high school.

I must commend the Carlsberg family. Good taste in beer, art collections and they sponsor Liverpool. During the tour we were treated to a film screening where they show the 2005 Champions League finale highlights over and over again. Once they excise their editorial rights and remove the ginger family from talking about how they never gave up hope during the match then it will be a perfect film. I only wish that we had been able to bring our beer into this room.

That pretty much summarizes the events that transpired. Anything else would just make the trip seem much more grandiose than it was in reality. The beer alone is worth the price of admission since you get a tour of the place and two beers for 40 kroner. Since I usually pay 25 kroner at the bar for a single beer of lesser quality I'm going to wager a guess that I will be touring the factory a lot.

As a brief aside, the night ended with a get together with nearly everyone from my Danish language class. Our teacher even showed up which was interesting. He may have never respected my Danish abilities but he did compliment me on my whisky drinking capabilities. I'll take it.

reduced to this

IMG_0247
Originally uploaded by adeherre

It took me awhile but I finally found the cheapest place to buy alcohol in Denmark and the cheapest brand. Ladies and gentleman, I present Statesman Scotch Whisky. It may seem like a good idea at 80 kroner but it leads to poor decisions. Such as dancing on stage at a bar. Not that there is any video evidence to prove that I did or did not do this.

On the bright side, I am done with my Danish class on Friday and I am going to Amsterdam for five days on Tuesday. Class doesn't start until February 1st and I only have 2 days/2 hours a day where I actually have to be in class.

Everything is awesome.

the weather

You would think after a little over two weeks of being in Denmark that I would have realized how essential a good jacket, a warm hat, gloves and a scarf are. You would also be wrong. Every few days I get this crazy notion in my head that it isn't that cold outside or I forget to bring it with me and decide that it is not really necessary. Like most of my problems in life this is all directly attributable to myself being an idiot.

Tomorrow I am going to buy anything and everything necessary to stay warm. Even though I have been telling myself that I won't need all of this when I come back to the States and that it can't stay cold forever. Those points may be true but I am past the point of sacrificing present comfort for potential wasteful purchases. If I never have to listen to another person tell me how dumb I am for not wearing enough clothing to stay warm (which they do, and they are always correct) then I will consider my money well-spent.

Alternatively I may just invest in a flask and just try to stay warm via the wonders of alcohol. This approach has served me well too. Alcohol unfortunately has this terrible side effect where I stop being self-conscious and instead make an ass of myself. Highlights include asking a Scottish person if they hate Catholics or Protestants, forgetting people's names and subjecting the public to my inability to dance.

Clothing may be more expensive in the pocket but it is cheaper than my dignity.

christiania

On Tuesday after class I met up with my University mentor Wesley and we took a visit to Christiania. While some may argue that it is a shade of its former self these days it was still an interesting experience. For those of you too lazy to read the Wikipedia link I provided, Christiania is neighborhood in Copenhagen that used to be a military barracks. In the 70s a bunch of hippies took it over and proceeded to declare it an autonomous region. Long story short--you can buy weed there.

My intentions of visiting Christiania were pure. I didn't go there for the weed. I just wanted to check it out because it reminded me of Hamsterdam from the Wire. I would show some pictures of the place because the art work is interesting but you aren't really allowed to take pictures there. Wesley told me that a few summers ago some German tourists received quite a beat down after ignoring this rule. Seeing as how I enjoy my undefeated fight record (1-0) I thought it would be best to leave my camera at home.

The main street of the commune is appropriately named Pusher Street. The street used to be aligned with carts where one could purchase their illicit merchandise but these days it is done in more of a stealth manner. Within the last decade the government has changed and began to crack down on the trade. I did see one table that was proudly displaying some hash and a fairly large joint but for the most part it was out of sight.

I soon found out why it was out of sight as we turned to corner and immediately ran into a group of six policeman patrolling the area. The cops aren't exactly welcomed inside Christiania but they also don't really have a choice. Within the first half hour I was there I saw three groups of six police in total. The only thing that disappointed me is that the residents didn't have some sort of elaborate bird calling system in place to warn about the police like they do in bad parts of the US (at least that's what Training Day led me to believe). I'm guessing it likely involves cell phones and just hanging out at the entrance. Technology ruins the imagination.

On our way out of Christiania we saw the police talking to a man running a booth with Thai sticks painted on the front. The Danish apparently are not ones for subtlety. While they were interviewing him he seemed to reach into his pocket and throw a pack of cigarettes to the other side of his booth. I followed Wesley over to where it landed when all the sudden an explosion of some sort went off.

I am not one for hyperbole so I want to stress that when I say explosion I mean of the variety of a large firework like an M80 or something else similar. It's not like I was in Baghdad. It did scare the shit out of me though. According to Wesley he turned around and couldn't see me because I was busy getting the hell out of dodge. No one else seemed to react in such a pansy-manner so I am guessing that it is a) typical for residents to do this when cops are around and b) that I am not as brave as I have been led to believe.

We left after my not-really-near-death experience but returned after seeing three police vans speeding by us on the street. It was a paradox for me: I've always wanted to participate in a riot but I also don't want to get into any sort of incident where people are yelling in a language that I can't understand. Or an incident where police are beating me while speaking in a language that I can't understand. There was no riot and I did not get my ass handed to me. I can't decide if that qualifies as a win-win or a lose-win.

a brief delay and updates

I would have been posting more but I was doing my best to not turn this into a forum where I would just vent my likes and dislikes. After all, that's what my Live Journal is for! In the last week since I wrote about my trip to Copenhagen I've been mainly just hanging out with friends from class, visiting some museums and the like. Nothing terribly interesting but in the interest of full disclosure I will try to give my best recollection of what has happened in the last week.

Wednesday was not terribly eventful. I tried this food that was described to me as a meatball made out of fish. I will say that it was quite good. It is not something I could ever see myself cooking due to my lack of culinary skills but I could see myself ordering it again. My plan of trying new and "exotic" danish foods is currently batting 1000%. Further explorations are however hampered by my limited budget and the fact that I am afraid to buy food at the grocery store if I can't a) tell what it is and b) know how to cook it. I'll probably have to bring along a Danish person with me to translate next time I go out shopping.

Thursday I went walking around Nyhavn with two of my friends from class who also hail from California (although both go to a much better school than I). It may have also been the coldest day of the month since I arrived on the 1st. I had fun exploring the area but the prices are much higher due to it being a tourist attraction. I've had a hard time adjusting to not being able to get large coffees for 2 dollars (or be a dollar menu millionaire) but it was more pricey than normal. I'm trying my best to not complain about the costs since I willfully moved to the most expensive city in Denmark and one of the most expensive in Europe but if I was able to murder someone for a free meal no one's life would be safe.



On Friday I slept through my Danish class. In my defense I set my alarm for 6:45 pm instead of am. It isn't much of a defense at all but I enjoyed my prolonged rest and finally caught up on my sleep schedule. Now I am back to my normal hours. I also used this day to go to the Student Hous which is a bar/club run by the University. They allow people to work there for free as bartenders and in return are given some free drinks, cheaper prices and no admission costs. I signed up to work on Wednesday the 20th so you can expect a post in a week about my failure to emulate Cocktail.

After a few rounds of drinks at the common room of a friend's residence hall, most of my Danish class went back to the Student Hous for the promise of more alcohol and good live music. It would be safe to say that half of the bargain was not held up. The first band's music can only be described as screamo music combined with a Sounds of the Ocean CD. The band was suppose to play for thirty minutes; I was told management made them get off after six. The second band was much better in the sense that they could not have been worse but that is the highest compliment I am willing to offer them. Maybe the Scandinavian music scene is much different than what I am used to but I am unwilling to adjust my musical sensibilities if it means liking the bands I had heard.


I went to the Staten Museum for Kunst the next day. It was interesting but I think I preferred the Ny Carlsberg. The art collection was larger at Staten but I felt like they just threw too many pieces up on the wall. I enjoyed it either way (especially since admission is free). I left the group early however to meet up with my mentor. The University has a program for international students where they are assigned a mentor who is able to help them get adjusted for city life. Thankfully the one I was assigned is a cool guy. He gave me a cell phone and took me out for drinks at a bodega with one of his friends. A few rounds of beers were consumed, I took a shot of some terrible Danish drink (a free shot of malice as I would call it), and I learned a lot about the Danish political system. It was a good night.


My Danish class decided to get together the next morning and gather for brunch. We found a place that had a buffet so we headed there. Much to my dismay it was a vegetarian buffet. The food was okay and I was able to eat a lot of it yet it wasn't the same knowing that no animal suffered for my appetite. Once that ended we continued our journey and headed to the Ny Carlsberg museum. Since I was the only one that had been there before I ended up showing two people around after the entire group splintered. I found a part of the museum with mummies that I had some how missed on my previous excursion.


That about sums up the last week or so since I posted. I'm starting to get adjusted to the high prices, smaller portion sizes and public transportation so that's a plus. I expect to come back to the States as one of those people who constantly references their time abroad even when it is completely out of context. Maybe I'll wax poetic about my semester at the University for added amusement. So far it has been worth the added debt that I am trying not to think about coming here. I might even be taking a trip to Amsterdam in two weeks with some classmates.

danish is terrible (i am terrible at it)

I am out of the hotel and settled into my residence hall. I'll take some pictures once I put away my things so that I'll have some documented proof that it was at one point clean. First day of class was yesterday and I can already tell that I will never learn to speak Danish. At all. It is terrible.

What was really odd was the way the classes were set up. About two hundred or so of us (international students) were in a lecture hall and had to sit through a quick orientation explaining how the three-week language class was going to be set up. That in itself wasn't too bad, but what was strange was once the lecture concluded a teacher would randomly pick students out of the audience to decide who was in what class. I guess when two hundred people collectively cannot speak Danish it doesn't really matter how classes are organized.

In my class I ended up with 3 other people from California, 5 or so Australians, and three ladies from Switzerland, France and England. An odd collection of nationalities but I can take solace in the fact that none of us are any good at Danish. I am hoping that at the end of three weeks I can at least say "Hello I don't speak Danish" in an understandable way. Sadly I think this is but a dream. I was going to take a class in Danish during the semester but if my abilities are stagnant by the end of the three week course I may just pass. While I would like to learn Danish I also want to have lots of free time to hang out around and about the city, the country, and hopefully other places in Europe.

Most people seem to be understanding about my linguistic handicap. The bus drivers have saved me from further confusion many a times (and I've only been here four days). I've had people approach me on the street to offer help as I stared into a map trying to figure out exactly where I was. The food service here, however, has been less helpful. Being unable to read Danish I've found myself passing the responsibility onto whomever I am purchasing food from by just asking what they recommend. Otherwise I would be left to pick food items off a menu based off of price or just choosing at random. In some places this has worked well, in other places not so much. I can't blame them for not speaking English since I am the foreigner in their country, but as an almost-white American it is my right to feel that everyone should bend over backwards for me. At least now that I've moved into the hall I'll be able to find some people to go out with who can act as my translator.

As a quick aside, here are some observations I have made in my short stay so far:

• The good thing about not having wool socks when it is -6 degrees outside is that you can't feel your toes after 20 minutes so it really doesn't make a difference
• The good thing about the Kroner being less than the dollar is that I feel awesome dropping 100 dkk on food even though it is really only 20 dollars
• I don't think it is a product of culture shock to say that the street signs in Copenhagen suck. They just do.
• It's tough to feel home sick when you come from a terrible home so i got that going for me
• Danish people may have a similar affinity for Ted Danson as Germans do for David Hasselhoff. Otherwise I can't explain why he is on at least one channel at all times. The other night while trying to fall asleep I saw him on no less than three different channels within an hour or two. Crazy.
• When I first got here I noticed that none of the bikes had those bulky chain locks that everyone uses back home. I assumed this is because everyone in Denmark is trusting. It turns out that it is actually just because they had smaller, stealthier locks on the back tire. Please note that I did not find this out by trying to steal one.
  

lost and sleep deprived

The first two days in Denmark have been unremarkable except for my inability to sleep and not get lost. I arrived around 8:30 local time and took a taxi over to the hotel. The taxi driver had the honor of being the first person to question me about why people in America hate health care. He also made fun of me for being unable to pronounce the name of the dormitory (Tietgenkollegiet) that I will be staying at once school commences. In fact, he asked me to repeat it just so he could have a good chuckle about it. I figured both events would happen but within the first 20 minutes? Guess I should go ahead and get that maple leaf patch.

Once I arrived at the hotel is was 9:00 or so local time. Which means it was about 12:00 in the time zone that I was used to. I didn't want to fall asleep and screw up my sleeping routine so after a brief breakfast, unpacking some clothing, and realizing that my laptop battery was not suitable for the adapter I had brought (a fact evidenced by the now no-longer working adapter sitting in the corner of the room) I decided to take a walk around the city. I also decided not to bring a map with me. Like all mistakes in my life it is directly attributable to the fact that I am an idiot.

The streets were littered with discarded fire works. It makes me wish I had decided not to be cheap and had flown out of the 30th so that my New Years would not have been spent on a plane. Danish people love fireworks as much as trashy people from the south. They had cool fireworks too--not just poppers, sparklers or snakes. I also liked that the pond was frozen solid yet there were a bunch of ducks just hanging out there, not giving a fuck, like the pond was liquid.

I was also surprised because there was a serious lack of snow. Not on the ground or the roofs. I had asked the taxi driver about it earlier and he told me that as soon as it stops snowing they immediately remove all of it from the road and salt it to hell and back. Good for them, snow sucks.

After walking for an hour or so I decided it was time to head back. It was around this time that I realized I had no idea what the name of the street was where my hotel was located. "No big deal" I thought to myself, "I'll use landmarks to find my way back to my room." Spoiler alert: I had no idea what the fuck I was doing. My one hour adventure turned into a three hour adventure where I was within a block on my hotel and still couldn't find it. I tried to retrace my steps to no avail. In the end I hailed a taxi driver who lectured me on the importance of knowing your address. I am the worst possible ambassador for America.

I returned to the hotel at 4:00 and fell asleep. So much for trying to keep a healthy schedule. I woke up at 11 and went out to try and find a place to eat. My first meal in Denmark: Indian food. Nothing else was open. I wish I had gone to one of the hot dog carts my brother raved about before I had left. At that point it was 11:30 and I could not go back to sleep. I spent the next 8 hours laying in bed trying to sleep while watching American TV shows trying to pick up on a few words from the translated subtitled. I think I can say "yes" now.

I went downstairs for breakfast only to discover that at some point in between King of the Hill and a National Geographic show that it had begun to snow. So much for my plans to rent a bike and explore the city. When it stopped snowing I walked down the street to try and buy an adapter for my laptop. None of the stores within a 5 minute walk had any leaving me forced to walk back to the hotel defeated as the snow began to fall again. After another hour or so I finally figured out (I asked the hotel clerk) how the bus system works. With a map in my back pocket I went out to try and find a store that would sell an adapter.

If you think that I didn't find a way to get lost again you do not know me at all. My ability to read danish begins and ends with telling the difference between Østerbrogade and Østbanegade. Thankfully they are with a 5 minute walk of one another because I picked the wrong one. I was able to buy a new power cable and was on my way back to the hotel as someone who successfully navigated the city transportation.

Except not so much. I got on the right bus but heading the wrong direction. The bus driver was nice enough to let me stay on while he went back the other way without charging me more. Which was good because I did not have anymore DKK on me. It was a 15 minute bus ride to get to Østerbrogade and an hour to get back home. When he offered to let me off at the metro station since the train would be faster I declined not wanting to get lost on yet another medium of transportation.

A few more hours passed before I went out to grab dinner before an early bed time. My logic being that since I hadn't slept in almost 24 hours at this point I could go to bed somewhat early and wake up early with my sleep schedule aligned to the country's time zone. My adventure to getting food led me to nearly buy a meal full of just deserts because I went to the first place that I saw doing take out. I realized my error and decided that I should try and avoid early onset diabetes. I found a place that had Smørrebrød in prominent letters and since I had read on Wikipedia that people in Denmark love those sandwiches I went in to buy one. The sandwich? Meh.

As an added kicker, my plan to catch up on my sleep schedule failed as well. Seeing as how it is 4:22 am as I write this my plans for an early bed time led me to wake up after only 7 hours or so of sleep. I think I'm going to either rent a bike tomorrow or take the bus down to where my school and dorm are so that I can be at least a little familiar with the area. After all, I am going to get lost again.