My "Handout"

Haven't posted in a while...which makes sense, since this blog is entitled Life in Denmark, and my life right now is taking place in Miami, Florida- very far from, and very different than, Denmark. But this recent election has inspired me to write again. Not because I think President Obama is the savior of the United States, nor because I think our country is doomed for destruction because Mitt Romney lost.

It's the ignorance that I am seeing all over Facebook, primarily from my upper class/upper middle class white friends (granted, yes, I know I grew up as a member of this demographic). This has driven me crazy to the point where I need to express my frustrations somewhere. Clearly, posting it directly to Facebook would just trigger a thousand comments of resentment, the arguments, and perhaps some agreement. I don't usually post anything remotely political at all- I have always hated political conversations, because of the anger it incites in so many people. I am a registered Independent, and do not consider myself aligned 100% with either political party; I am disillusioned entirely by the polarized political system in America.

But for me, my opinions about this election had less to do with politics, and more to do with humanity, with people, with solidarity. And that is where this post comes from. Sorry in advance for the lack of capitalization (I tend to not capitalize anything on Facebook, and that's the original place my post was crafted). I'm not writing it to be seen or read by everyone in the world (clearly, since my blog is 1.5+ years old), but just to synthesize my thoughts and have a release for my frustration.

So, here goes. Keep in mind it was originally meant to be a short Facebook post, which turned into a post that was far too long, and too opinionated, for my Facebook wall.
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i am so grateful to have been a recipient of the biggest handout i ever could have received, a handout that has given me more of an advantage than a lifetime of food stamps and welfare checks ever could. i did nothing to earn this handout, nothing at all, but i received it anyways.

this handout was a comfortable upbringing, where i never had to worry about where my next meal would come from. it was a life where i had family around me who had time to talk to me and foster my development. it was a life where i received an excellent public education, where i was taught not only the fundamentals of math and reading, but i was also taught to be an independent thinker. i was taught to have high goals, dreams, and expectations, and achieving nothing less of those was an option.

i did absolutely nothing to earn this privilege- i just got lucky enough to be born in a zip code that could be characterized, for the most part, comfortably as upper middle class or above. but, from the day i was born (and before, if you want to get into prenatal health, etc), i was put on a trajectory that was targeted at many more opportunities than so many people in this world. i was the recipient of the biggest handout i could have received.

i easily could have been born into a family that was struggling to get by, with a single parent working three jobs just to her children could stay in school. i could have been born as a child of a parent who does everything he can to provide for his children, works a minimum wage job, but still receives food stamps.

and you know what, i could have been born to a mother who receives welfare checks without working for it, whether it's because she's a drug addict, has falsely declared disability, or can't find a job (just to go with a few arguments i've heard). but you know what, this mother was likely born into a life where this was the most likely path, where structural violence and racism put up more obstacles than she was able to overcome. and, for the sake of another argument i've heard, maybe she can't get a job at mcdonalds because that requires a high school diploma or equivalent, and she was too busy working to support her family to stay in school, or she was passed through the system without really learning, and left at age 16 with the reading ability of a 10 year old.

but, regardless of parental circumstances, i believe this child deserves more. every child deserves what i received growing up- an excellent education, one that provides him or her with the opportunities to go as far as he or she wants, to do whatever he or she has the will and the ability to do.

and yes, the welfare system is not perfect. there are abuses within the system, there is corruption, and it is flawed. but for many families, it's the only thing keeping their children alive and in school. most people do not WANT to be on food stamps or welfare- their American dream is not to be barely scraping by and relying on the government to buy food, as appealing as that may sound. but the fact is that the American dream is a myth and a fantasy in most cases- there are too many structures and obstacles that make a linear path between "hard work" and "success" impossible.

so, for everyone complaining about welfare and free handouts, just stop and think about the "handouts" that you've received in your life. because i know, in my life, i received so many advantages that i did nothing to earn or deserve, and without those, i might- no, i would- be on a very different life path.

6 Months

6 months. That's how long I've been home, that's how long it's been since I left Denmark. It's crazy to think about it like that- half a year is a long time. I figured it was an appropriate time for a post, since I clearly failed to continue writing once I returned home. I forgot how busy life gets, while I was abroad- in Copenhagen, I was just living, enjoying every day, making time to relax and just experience life. I equate life at Bucknell with being on a treadmill sometimes...constantly working and running just to keep up, just to stay in the same place.

I miss Denmark...I miss the people, I miss the commute, I miss the ease of getting around and the ability to explore somewhere new every day. I miss Skovager, and seeing the joy of Danish childhood, experienced to the full. I miss Milo; I walk a black dog here, Shadow, and he reminds me of Milo, a little. I miss my host family, the jokes, the laughter, the hygge, the crazy family, and the constant learning that took place. I miss København and Ishøj. I miss soccer with ØKF, and the awful long walk to get to the field. I miss the people I met while i was there. But life at home is good too, busy, but good. It was so great to see people again, and so scary how easily I fell back into the pace and rhythm of American life.

So much has happened since I left. 3 weeks in Nicaragua, where I feel like I finally started to begin to understand the big picture about the life and history of that part of the world. Worked all summer, babysitting for Abby and John, and lifeguarding at the beach. Went back to school, moved into my lovely single dorm room, and resumed Bucknell, fast-paced life. Classes, meetings, more meetings, work, more work, and homework/studying on the side. And having fun too- after being abroad, I definitely did factor my social life into my schedule more, although it was not quite the same as Danish hygge. I got a job- I'll be teaching elementary school in Miami through Teach For America for at least the next 2 years. It's what I wanted, but I was in shock when I got the news- wasn't ready for my real work denial to end. Not sure if I even am now, but I'm going with it.

For the bad news, I tore my ACL again...the other one, this time, playing soccer for Bucknell's club team, in our only game of the season (thanks, rain/snow). I was so mad. SO MAD. Right when I went down, I knew...I tore my right ACL in high school, so it was like horrible, awful, deja vu of that experience. At least I can drive, since it's my left knee. But it's the BIGGEST bummer; I know exactly what is in store. It was a great early birthday present; surgery will be a great early Christmas present (it should be Dec. 5). Then, many months of physical therapy, without the motivation of my high school season to get back for. No club soccer in spring, that's for sure. Oh well.

But, to end on a positive note...I AM GOING BACK TO DENMARK!!! Originally, I wanted to go to Europe for 2 weeks after graduation, spending part of it in Germany with family, and the rest in Denmark with my host family. But, since I have to be back so early for TFA training, that trip didn't work out (hopefully some other time soon!). Instead, I will be returning to cold, rainy, grey København for spring break in March, and I CANNOT wait! No soccer with ØKF, but maybe I'll trek out to Kløvermarken to see a practice or something.

So yeah, there have been many ups and downs since returning home, but the one thing that hasn't changed is how fast life moves. A few months from now, I'll be graduating. I'm ready to go back to Denmark and hit the slow-mo button on life, and enjoy things for just a little bit longer.

Vi ses!

Life itself is the most wonderful fairy tale.

(Quote borrowed from the famous, and Danish, H.C. Anderson)

During my four months abroad, I tried to soak in every moment of my life. And now that I am home, I want to remember what it felt like to just live there, to be a part of Denmark. I've been in the US for almost 3 days now. I can't tell if it feels like a long time or a short time, but I definitely miss life in Denmark, and life at home definitely has not sunk in. I want to remember everything from my semester, so this post is for me (but feel free to read).

I want to remember the 6-minute walk, or 2 minute run (which it ended up being, more often than not) from my house to the bus stop. I want to remember how my bus pass was always stored in the outside pocket on my Vera Bradley wallet, which contained my life in it. I want to remember the momentary dread I felt those few times where I had put it in my jacket pocket instead, or when I couldn’t immediately find my wallet within my school bag. I want to remember how (knock on wood), I never once lost that trusty wallet.

I want to remember how I would flash my pass to the bus driver, so natural and Danish, and go to find a seat, usually in the back of the bus. I would always try to be ready for the predictable lurch that would try to send you stumbling forwards as the bus pulled away from the stop. I want to remember the bus ride, lasting anywhere from 8-15 minutes. We turn right when we get to the end of the field, where in the winter there was always a small pond in the center from the excess rainwater not soaking into the frozen ground. We would then turn left on the next road, past the bus stop and a road that would take you to Ishøj Landsby. There were two stops along that commercial road (Industribuen, I believe), and then we would turn right. This was the road the station was on, and those mornings when I was cutting it close to make a certain train, I would always feel like the road took forever, and we hit all the wrong lights. Then we’d turn right into the station, and pull around the island of bus stops to the place for the 400S bus towards Hundige.

I want to remember my train ride every morning, and I want to remember those few mornings when the bus was running late where I displayed an epic sprint from bus stop to train platform in order to just catch the train before it pulled away. Most mornings I took the E train, which would get me to København H, or Central Station, in about 17 minutes. The A train took 5 minutes longer, so I always tried to time it to make the E. Especially towards the end of the semester, when I started to take a later bus (not entirely on purpose) every morning, I would sit in the “stille” car, or the quiet car, and read my Nook. This car was at the front of the train, so gave me a few meters advantage to get out of the station and head to class. Most mornings, I would be running borderline late, so I needed every minute I could get.

Tuesdays and Fridays were the only days I always had class; they became so routine, but I want to remember these days. Vestergade 23 was my first stop, which was luckily the closest DIS building to Central Station. I want to remember my walk from the train every morning, trying to time whether I crossed the street in front of the station or at the corner. The signals take a long time to change, and you do NOT cross the street when the red man is lit in Copenhagen. I want to remember walking by the Tivoli every winter morning, seeing determined tourists braving the Danish winter and taking pictures in front of the park’s closed gates. I’d then walk past the construction site, usually speed walking past slower pedestrians, hoping to make the next crosswalk. Usually, it would be red, so I would wait patiently to see the people on the other side start to walk, signaling it would soon be our turn. I would then cross Rådhusplads, turn left, and turn right down Vestergade. Number 23 wasn’t too far, and after three flights of stairs, I would always have to fumble for the ID needed to enter, since I hadn’t learned to just have it out, and get to class just in time- I was only late once.

Peter’s class would be next, always entertaining and informative, with a predictable break in the middle. Partly for us, mostly for him, but we all loved it equally. Then it would be back to 23 for our hyggeligt, all girls, Danish class with the wonderful Christina, and then my class day would end.

I want to remember my Thursdays spent at the incredible early childcare institution of Skovager. I want to remember my 5-year-old buddies, Alberte and Nora and Karla, and the party we had when all the 5 year olds moved on to their transition school to prepare them for Folkeskole in the fall. I want to remember how little Alberte was so good at communicating with me using minimal Danish and a lot of gestures, and the day that Nora pulled me into a dance party in the coatroom. I want to remember spunky little Celia, with her white blond hair and purple glasses, who would wear sheer pink princess skirts over her purple leggings, and howl in a tree for 10 minutes alone, or sit in the dirt and dig for worms for the class’s project. I want to remember little Ada and Benjamin, best friends since they were a few weeks old, but they would make each other cry virtually every day. They were inseparable. I want to remember the day Ada and I sat in a tree for half an hour, barely speaking, but she was content to climb on the limbs of the tree and just take life in with me. I want to remember the wonderful pedagogues there, from Ulle and Alex to Mette and Pernille, and of course, the rest whose names I never really knew. I want to remember the way they treated the kids as competent equals, and trusted and empowered them to take risks and stretch their limits.

I want to remember my days wandering through the streets of Copenhagen. Going to Nyhavn on a sunny day to walk around and get pictures of the beautiful, colorful buildings right on the canal. I want to remember the beautiful Danish weather we got every now and then (Easter weekend!), as well as the cloudy, dark, and cold weather that lasted for most of the winter, and some of the spring (Spiral Tower in the rain?!). I want to remember just walking around the streets to see where I would end up, and feeling so comfortable in a city which had once seemed so strange.

I want to remember soccer with ØKF, and how much Leslie and I HATED the walk from Christianshavn Metro Station to the fields at Kløvermarken. It always seemed like it took forever, especially in winter when we would be bundled up in 17 layers to try to not freeze. I want to remember the practices where it felt more like an ice rink than a crappy turf field, and I was afraid to pivot or turn in anything more than slow motion. I want to remember the simple joys like the day Julie drove us to Christianshavn or Signe offered us a ride, or those few days where we would make bus 40 to get to practice, and be elated (we never made it on the way back). I want to remember the humorous, but depressingly inevitable moment during practice where we would watch the bus, the only one for that hour, drive by without us on it. I want to remember how Leslie and I always moaned and complained SO MUCH about the walk back (and, throughout the walk back), and how it would take anywhere from 90-120 minutes to get home.

I want to remember good old Jonas and Christian, and all of the girls on the team- Astrid, whose name I still struggle to say correctly, Julie, who we called the American version of the name for the longest time, Signe, who would give me a look every time I played on my slightly injured Achilles, Henriette and Heidi, whose birthday party Leslie and I attended, Vini, with her knowledge of random English words (vindication?), Dane and American, who made the season awesome. The team was great, and it was so fun to play with them. I want to remember the games we won, where we did a victory chant that I didn’t understand until Søs told me, and the game we lost to the team of “men”. I want to remember that chant- "Hvem var det der vandt i dag? Dem var det fra ØKF! Hey, hey hey!". I want to forget the freezing cold, rainy game we lost in double overtime where I couldn’t play, though- that sucked.

rød grød med fløde :)

I want to remember nightly dinners with my host family- the laughs, the conversation, in both Danish and English, the delicious food, from Danish frikadeller to lasagna (with gulerødder!) to salad with grilled chicken to spaghetti with meatsauce, and many, many more. I want to remember Mads teaching me Danish words for the things on the table, not settling for my American pronunciation- tallerken, kniv, gaffel, glas, etc. I want to remember how they would ask me to say various Danish words requiring the deep "r" or other strange Danish sound- gullerødder and rød grød med fløde being the two favorites. And of course, I want to remember when I actually got to try the famous dessert :)

I want to remember all the nights that we would just sit in the sun room/hygge room/family room and hang out all night, watching an American movie I most likely had not seen yet, Danish television, or other programs. We'd have bowls of gummies (vingum, no lakrids for me!), or ice cream, or fruit, and just relax and talk and enjoy each other's company. When it was nice out in the spring, we'd open the entire back wall of the room (glass floor to ceiling windows/doors, actually unfolded to be open) and enjoy the sunshine, sitting outside and soaking up the warmth. 

I want to remember my house in Ishøj- so cute and homey and light and hyggeligt and happy. I want to remember my room, which was perfect and really became my home, although I spent most of my time with the family. I want to remember my learning curve of doing the dishes, and how, by the end of the four months, I knew where virtually everything went when I would unload the dishwasher. And how I really learned my way around the kitchen, knowing where various ingredients and foods were kept. I want to remember the garden and backyard, and how beautiful the flowers were in the springtime. I want to remember the days we spent lying in the grass in the sunshine on the chair cushions, and the times we played volleyball over the bushes and jumped on the trampoline.

I want to remember going on runs with Milo through the paths and trails in and around Ishøj, and how he would stop way too often to sniff various bushes and plants. I want to remember the one time we went on a really long run, and two Danish girls stopped to pet him, and I tried to speak to them in Danish. I want to remember, which I’m sure Søs would never let me forget, the time where I put a piece of carrot on his nose and said “nei!” (no!), a trick where he knows not to eat it until you say “værsgo” (here you go, or go ahead), but forgot the command to give him permission, and had to physically remove the carrot and give it to him, since he was waiting for the command. And of course, I want to remember little Bella too :)

I want to remember my wonderful host parents, who were so caring and thoughtful throughout my semester here. From Søs’s wonderful cooking and baking to Henrik’s insistence on picking me up from the Ishøj train station, I can’t imagine having lived with anyone else, and I can’t imagine my living situation having been any better. I want to remember teaching Søs English words, and practicing my Danish with her. I want to remember all the long conversations we had, comparing the Danish and American cultures. I want to remember how Henrik would make fun of her mistakes in English, from “sky trip” (ski trip) to “take a talk” to "desert", some of his favorites (even though she was VERY GOOD at English!) and how he would point out the “Danish humor” in television to me. I want to remember how he picked me up from the airport after long study tour; I was the only one with someone waiting for me. I want to remember my initial airport greeting, where I saw Søs, Henrik, and Mads in person for the first time after a long 10 days of travel.I want to remember having a host brother, since I have never had a brother before. I want to remember all the times things got lost in translation, and all the times he painstakingly spent time teaching me how to PROPERLY say words in Danish, not satisfied with my terrible American accent- talerkun, glas, kniv, gaffel (plate, glass, knife, fork). I want to remember how he would give me a hard time when I would only take one cookie or not ask for enough æbleskiver. I want to remember the time I went with Søs to his gymnastics-like showcase, and all the crazy flips and tricks he can do on the trampoline. I want to remember how loving he is to his little Danish cousins.I want to remember my host sisters, Pernille and Kristina, who didn’t live with us but were still wonderful. I want to remember the week Pernille stayed with us while her parents were in Madrid, and she drove me to the ferry, picked me up in Copenhagen, and cooked delicious chicken. I want to remember her handball game that Kristina and I went to, and when Pernille and Søs came to my soccer game. I want to remember when Kristina would and her little puppy, Bella, would come over and Bella would run in circles to chase Kristina’s hand.
I want to remember our trip to Tivoli over Easter weekend (which I know I will, since I wrote a whole blog post about it), everything from sandwiches in the grass at the gospel concert to waiting in line for the airplane ride (Vertigo) with Mads for an hour, to riding the swings with Pernille and everyone else, to the water ride where Pernille, Søs, and I all squeezed into one car, clearly designed for 2 people.  I want to remember the passion and enthusiasm I saw from my host family, extended and immediate, in the Op-side Down performance I went to. I want to remember how they all loved each other so dearly, even if sometimes they might have temporarily hated one other or wanted to kill one another.


I want to remember the big family gatherings and dinners  we had. Dinner with Lulle and company at our house to watch the handball semifinals, and then dinner at Lulle and Åge's for the finals. Easter lunches with Karsten, Camille, Emil, and Mathilde, plus Pernille and Kristina, at our house in the wonderful Danish sunshine. Dinner with Kristina and Pernille (plus Milo and Bella) at Lulle and Å’s with Gideon, Mette, Daniel, and Sharon, while Søs and Henrik were in Madrid, complete with a yoga/dance/musical session at the end. I want to remember what it felt like to be just a little part of such a big, wonderful family.

I want to remember everything. I know that one day I will look back and my semester will be a blur, the intricacies and simplicities of each day forgotten in exchange for a broad overview of my semester. But the beauty is in the details, and I want to remember those.

That was life. And, life was good :)

USA. (0)

I am home. Home meaning Ridgefield, CT, USA. Eastern Standard time. My laptop says that it is 6:00 am; it doesn't realize I am no longer in Denmark. Maybe I won't change it. I wrote most of this post earlier today, while sitting in the airport; the flight was delayed, of course- 2.5 hours. 

Saying goodbye was hard. And I know it's not really goodbye, it's "see you later"(vi ses)- between facebook, email, and skype, it will be easy to stay in touch, and, I fully plan on returning to Denmark- but still, it is a short term goodbye, and it's sad knowing that I won't be seeing these wonderful people every day anymore. Life will be very different.

I didn't cry in front of anyone, though- not my style, I guess. Pernille was first; I said goodbye to her after dinner last night. Like I said, I know we'll be in touch, but it's still very different to talk when 6000 miles apart than face to face. I'm really going to miss laughing and talking about everything with her.

Then, this morning I woke up early to say goodbye to Søs before she had to go to work. It was so sad; we hugged, exchanged thanks and goodbyes, and then she left. I went to my empty room, knowing I couldn't go back out to say "hej, hej" once more as she left, or I would lose it. I briefly let my sadness hit me, but then swallowed the rest and putting the final touches on packing. 

Mads was next; he had to leave for school and came in to say bye. He joked that I should bring Milo to the US with me, and we laughingly watch him sit next to my overstuffed, huge blue duffle bag. Bella ran in, and he (appropriately) said that she could be my "handpose" (handbag), sine Milo clearly wasn't going to work. We hugged, and said goodbye, and then he was gone as well.

It was just Henrik and I (and the dogs, of course) after that. We sat and ate breakfast together, and just killed time for the next hour and a half, until 9:30, when we would leave for the airport. Time had never moved so slowly- what do you do when you are just waiting until it is time for a terrible, inevitable, final moment of goodbye?

But finally the time came. We had packed the car as part of the time killing, so all that was left was saying bye to Milo and Bella. Even that was sadder than I had anticipated. Henrik took a picture of us in the driveway, and I game them a kiss. We then got in the car and drove off. I had to blink away  tears as we went, looking out at the landscape around me for a final time. I wanted to remember everything; I still do. I say I will be back, but I don't know when that will be, so the memories will have to do for now.

It was a quiet ride- what was there to saw? We arrived at the airport, driving past the Hilton where we had to go on my second day in Denmark for orientation- leaving just the way I came. We parked and headed to the terminal; my life for the past 4 moths packed into bags on the cart we were pushing. As we walked into the departure area, I couldn't help but see the waiting area outside baggage, the very spot where, 4 months and 3 days earlier, Henrik, Søs, and Mads had waited to greet me, fresh off a plane from Paris, which brought on another wave of emotion.

We soon found out about the delay, from one of the thousand DIS students at the airport, while in the bag drop line. I was lucky enough to be able to check all m bags without an extra fee, which was a great surprise, but the momentary happiness did little to help with the sadness that overwhelmed the morning, the elephant in the airport. With just my purse in tow, I gave Henrik a final, long goodbye hug, and then turned and headed onto the escalator.

I thought he was taking a picture of me on the ascent; turns out, he was actually filming it. So I put on a happy face, genuinely laughing at the site of him with the camera, and waved my final goodbyes. But the smiles were mostly for the camera, to hide the empty feeling of loss that came with saying goodbye to people who had become such a wonderful part of my life. At the top of the escalator, I gave a final wave, and turned to walk away, towards security, as the tears began to fall. I couldn't look back- I was a mess. I wanted the last memory that Henrik and everyone has of me to be a happy one, a smiling one. 

The waiting in the airport wasn't really anything to note- napped, read, ate, walked, etc. Normal airport stuff. I tried to keep my mind off leaving. I got choked up and teary again when I reread the card Søs wrote, but that was it. It will hit me later, the sadness and the missing and everything, I know it will. But for now, I will try to just think about the positive things. And I will be back to Denmark- hopefully sooner than later.

Again, picftures to come.

Farvel (1)

(the cord to upload pictures is packed, so I will add some later.

My room is empty- nothing in the closet, the walls are bare. It's all packed into suitcases, which are, of course, too big and too heavy and too numerous. Under the weight limit, but still. Once I move my bags out tomorrow morning, the room will look as it did before I got there, over 4 months ago. So much has happened in those four months; that will be another post. Not tonight.

This morning it was rainy, grey, and windy- a fitting last day in Copenhagen- I think Denmark was crying because it was sad we are all leaving. But it did get sunnier later in the day, so I guess Danish weather was trying to get us to change our minds and stay? I mean, it was pretty convincing, but the flight is booked, my seat (window seat, in the wayyyy back...you win some, you lose some) is reserved, and plans have been made to go to the airport. I'm really going home tomorrow.

Last night consisted of staying up late "studying" in bed for my psychology exam (meaning, writing down things I already knew and talking to people on Facebook), while Kelly slept on a mattress on the floor of my room. Bella was sleeping too, on my bed by my feet. However, after taking the exam this morning, I realize that I probably would have done just as well had I not spent any time fake studying. I'll think of it as getting a jump start on beating jet lag (since when I get back, 10pm will feel like 4am, so it will feel like I'm staying up really late).

After the exam, since I finished early, I returned my books, reserved a seat for my flight, and headed home to get a couple hours of packing in before going back to the city for the closing ceremony for DIS. It was pretty good, a speech from Anders Uhrskov (DIS director), a little orchestra music, some choir songs, and a couple student speeches (@boy from Vanderbilt- you are hilarious). Then, after a quick last walk around the streets of downtown Copenhagen, I headed home.

Søs, Henrik, Mads, Pernille, and I (Kristina unfortunately couldn't come- I'll miss you!) had a big farewell dinner, complete with a delcious and always colorful salad, frikadeller (going out the way I came in), potatoes, and red wine- it was all delicious :) After dinner, Pernille and I took Milo and Bella for one last walk around the neighborhood- those two dogs are slightly crazy, but it was a wonderful time just talking about life and reminiscing about the semester together.

It's crazy to think that after so, so many dinners together with the Grejsens, that was the last one. Aside from the wonderful gifts they gave me over dinner (so unnecessary, but so kind and thoughtful..I loved them all, and they will always remind me of my wonderful host family and make me smile) and the sweet card, handwritten in English that made me tear up a little, they have also given me so much that they don't even realize. I was able to really learn about Danish culture, the Danish language, and what it looks like to just be a Danish family, normal and crazy all at the same time. It meant so much to become a little part of their big family, and I appreciated everything they did for me, big or small. I could not have asked for a better host family, and I will miss that most of all.

So, Henrik, Søs, Mads, Pernille, Kristina, Milo, and lille Bella, thank you for everything. Thank you for welcoming me into your home, your family, and your lives, and for sharing a little piece of it with me. I have truly loved and appreciated getting to know each one of you. I'll miss the dinner conversations, the laughter when things get lost in translation, and all of the other funny and wonderful moments from the semester. See you soon, hopefully- vi ses, og tusand tak.

Goodbye doesn't seem real. (2)

gotta have that Nyhavn picture
(even if it is cloudy...)

A cloudy and rainy day in Denmark- but not surprising, I guess. It's fitting that it would be this grey in the few days prior to me leaving, since most of winter was this grey. It will be easier to say goodbye to grey, cloudy Denmark than beautiful, sunny Denmark, I suppose. But still, I would prefer the sun.

view from the spiral steeple

Today I hung out with Kelly, walking around the city (in the rain, of course). We shopped for souvenirs, finding great deals on brightly colored tshirts with Danish phrases in good old Tiger, and we climbed the spiral church tower at the Vor Frelsers Kirke near Christianshavn. It has a beautiful view of Copenhaven, since it takes you up 400 steps to the top of the church steeple across the water, but of course, the clouds made our view slightly less than perfect. And the rain didn't help either. We came back to have dinner at my house in good old Ishøj Landsby, another wonderful night spent with my host family. And now, it is time to study (?).

I have an exam tomorrow, my first and my only exam- the rest of my classes had papers and projects to end the semester. Of course, I haven't started studying yet, but an hour is all I need. A little tonight, a little in the morning, and I will be good to go.

Kelly and I :)

And then, tomorrow is my last day in Copenhagen. An exam at 9am, the closing ceremonies at 2:30 pm, and then home for my last dinner with my wonderful host family, who has felt so much like my real family for my time here in Denmark. Then, Wednesday will be spent at home, and then at the airport. And then I will spend 8.5 hours (about) in the air, and I will be in the United States again. Crazy. 

I'm excited to go home. I know I am, deep down at least. I'm excited to see all the people I have missed, and I'm excited to go to Nicaragua, and I'm excited to have time to just relax in Ridgefield. But, right now, all I can think about are the goodbyes. Those overshadow the good things about going back to the States, and thinking about leaving is a sad thought. I don't quite know how to say goodbye to a country that has become my home over these past 4 months, and people who have become my family. So, I guess, instead of saying "goodbye", I will say "vi ses"- meaning, "see you"- because I will be back.

The Beach, and Lists of Leaving (3)

favorite room :)

Today was a relaxing day in Denmark. I woke up, cleaned my room (necessary), did laundry, and then took pictures of...everything! I want to chronicle all the parts of my life in Denmark, and be able to look back and remember what the house looks like, what the backyard/garden looks like, what the street I lived on looks like, etc. Then, I decided to finally accomplish what should have been the easiest thing on my list to do- visiting Ishøj Strand, or the beach in Ishøj. Granted, it wasn't that warm, it was pretty windy, and it was only partly sunny, so it wasn't exactly prime beach weather.

But still, it had to be done. I walked to the bus stop (which took twice as long as usual, since I took pictures along the way- gotta remember my daily walk to the bus!), took the bus to the train station, and walked to the beach- easy enough, especially since there were signs everywhere for the bike/walking path telling me which way to go. When I got to the beach, I sat by the water for 45 minutes and read my book for Nicaragua; it was very nice, minus the part where sand started blowing everywhere, and I had to hide in the grassy sand dunes to avoid it.

dinner for 3 :)

Then, Emma came over tonight for a very hyggeligt night. We enjoyed chips and guacamole, delicious wine, a wonderful dinner, and ice cream/fruit for dessert, as well as great company and great conversation. It was a pretty low key day overall though, which was great after the busy few days I've been having. A great end to the weekend- my last weekend in Denmark. Crazy to think that I will be in Connecticut next weekend; actually, I will be in Connecticut in THREE days. That is crazy. I'm going to miss so much about Denmark though; in fact, I have made some lists in honor of leaving.

15 Things I will miss about Denmark

1. hearing and trying to understand/speak Danish

I'll miss this big, crazy, wonderful family

2. hygge :)

3. my commute

4. pålægschokolade 

5. the bike culture

6. hanging laundry to dry

7. milo

8. the slower pace of life

9. bread/cheese for breakfast

10. family dinners

11. rugbrød and smørrebrød

12. ØKF

13. leisure reading

14. Søs's cooking and baking

15. my host family/huge extended family!

15 Things I am looking forward to about home

1. my friends!

look at those faces- how could you not miss them!?!

2. unlimited texting

3. virtually unlimited calling

4. peanut butter and jelly

5. driving

6. food not being super expensive!

7. EVERYTHING not being super expensive!

8. nicaragua (okay, i guess that's not really something about home)

9. the mancusos! --->

10. stores being open on sundays

11. honey nut cheerios

12. my chacos and my rainbows

13. lazy days at Westmo

14. genoa, planet pizza, and other staples of Ridgefield eating 

15. ceteris (my fish, yup.)

15 Things I will try to bring home from Denmark

1. my Danish family (well, skype/email at least!)

2. riding a bike (that is, if I have a bike, and roads where I won't die)

okay, so I won't have a castle to ride by, but still :)

3. living life more slowly

4. reading for fun

5. hanging my laundry
6. more cooking; baking my own bread

7. sitting down to have meals

8. appreciating the sunshine

9. candles

10. carrots in the lasagna :)
11. planning ahead
12. hosting dinner parties, etc
13. walking to get around
14. eating outside/having picnics

15. hygge :)