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.