Hello again, I'm already up to 200 pageviews! Thank you so much to everyone who takes the time to read my blog. It means so much to me that someone out there is keeping up to date on my exchange. I hope you like it!
I am exactly 4,312 miles away from home for approximately 10 months. Most days are great and I absolutely love everything. But some days I just want to crawl back into bed and hibernate for the rest of the year. Monday mornings, bad hair days, and when my host parents cook something that's not my favorite make me want to be home. These are all little, insignificant things that really affect my mood. But looking at all of those things, they would happen whether I was in India, Australia, or even home. Bad days are bound to happen no matter where you are, that's just life.
I've been talking a lot about school here, but I have never described how it works. For starters, it's on a block schedule. Which means each class is an hour and 40 minutes long. Now we don't have the same classes every day, some days we have two classes and some days we have four. There is no definite schedule, so I need to check every night what classes I have the next day. Some times classes get canceled (that would be the cause of the less than four classes a day). Also, a class is never in the same room twice. You constantly need to check your schedule to make sure you are going to the right classroom. In order to find out your schedule, you need something called Lectio. Lectio is a website/app that has your schedule, daily homework, and messages from your teacher/classmates on it. It's a fantastic app, but I haven't quite figured it all out because it's in Danish.
This past week we had some guests in our English class. One was a group from Spain, and the other was a group from Austria. They were here Monday to Friday to observe Danish culture with their English teacher. These groups came into our class and we broke off into small groups with one Spaniard or Austrian per group. We were given a sheet with questions on them such as "What does religion mean in your country" or "What are some political issues in your country right now". Everyone had to answer on behalf of their country. My favorite part of having these foreign guests was that it united me with my fellow classmates, we were all excited to learn about this new culture. Also, these special guests had no clue I wasn't a Danish student, until I spoke with an American (Minnesotan) accent. That was a happy moment for me, for once I fit in here instead of standing out.
Usually when I talk to an exchange student, they talk about how much they are going to drink and party. Every time I heard someone say "Oh man, you are going to drink SO much on exchange!"
it made me vaguely uncomfortable. As a general rule, I don't like drinking. I never have. Before I came, I began to get more and more worried what my exchange would be like if I didn't drink and party like the rest. Would I not make friends? Would my entire exchange be spent sitting home alone on Friday nights? Well the answer came to me this last Friday night. Some friends and I wandered around Copenhagen, no real plans but to go to Nyhavn. We wandered aimlessly around and eventually stumbled upon a small pizza shop off the main road. After examining the prices, we decided to get some pizza. As we were eating, we came to the realization of what exchange really is. It's finding your way in the city and finding somewhere to eat that isn't a tourist trap. It's all about acting like a local. The next day a friend and I wandered around Gillijelle and found an adorable coffee shop to sit at. At that moment we both agreed that this was what being on exchange was REALLY about; living like the locals.
Tuesday, September 23, 2014
Tuesday, September 9, 2014
My 4th Week
Hi there! I'm so glad you're reading my blog, and I would really love it if you would leave some comments below. Perhaps questions you have, topics you'd like me to cover, or what you like/dislike about my post? Thanks to everyone following my adventure!
Whilst preparing for our exchanges, Rotary told us repeatedly, "If you don't go to school in your host country, you get sent home. No school=No exchange."
Before arriving in Denmark, I had contemplated that statement numerous times. Why was school so important during exchange? It would just takes time away from all the adventures I'm having, I could stay home if I wanted to go to school!The answer was, you experience emotions and culture that you couldn't have any other way.
One day I was sitting in some class, bored out of my mind. Then some boys right in front of me started goofing off, they were acting like a bunch of idiots. Even without understanding what they were saying, they still made me laugh pretty hard. Another time this happened was this past Monday. The previous Friday, there was a boy who was hit by a train after being at a school party. The boy, Jonas, was sixteen. Much too young to die. Monday morning, we all filed into an assembly. Somebody, I presumed he was the principle, read something about Jonas. Even without understanding what was said, I could feel the heartbreak. So many classmates were in utter grief, and I could feel without understanding. School is important because it gives you an insight to things that are unspoken in a culture.
Over the course of a month, my language skills have grown. While I still can't understand everything, its a great start. I had my first conversation in FULL Danish. It went something like this;
*70+ year old lady says something to me in Danish*
"I cannot speak Danish."
"Oh! Where are you from?"
"I am from the USA."
It might have been a short conversation, but I was extremely proud of myself for being able to do it. Lately, I have been saying "I cannot speak Danish" quite frequently in stores. I love the fact that if anyone saw me on the street, they would assume I was Danish until I opened my mouth. I even dress like the Danes, black, grey, and white.
The biggest part of exchange is experiencing your country in a non-tourist way, which I accomplished on Saturday. My friend Aly and I decided that we wanted to go to Copenhagen on Saturday. This trip would include no plans, no schedules, no tours. We just wants to wander around and get lost in the city. We made it to the main Copenhagen station and met up with another friend, Sophia. After we all met up, we had to figure out the best way to get to a specific part of the city. It took us around 15 minutes to figure out where to go, then we struggled to figure out which train to take. When we got to the place we wanted, we went to H&M. Later, Aly had to meet up with her counselor. That took us a solid half hour to get everyone in the right place. After meeting up with him, we argued and got lost trying to find the perfect place to get Chinese takeout. We settled on a questionable place called Mr. Chin's Chinabox Takeout. When the day was over, we found our way to the train station and went home. We didn't accomplished much that day, but we didn't ask a single person for directions. That's what being an exchange student is all about, getting lost and figuring things out the way a local would.
Lately the debate of whether or not people from the United States should call themselves "Americans" has come up. Geographically speaking, there are two (some may say three) Americas. North and South (sometimes Central America too). Within these Americas, there are countries. I don't know about you, but if I knew someone was from Chile, I would call them Chilean. I wouldn't call them South American, unless I didn't know exactly which country they were from. The same thing should go with those living in North America. Canadians, Mexicans, and those living in the USA are all by definition North Americans. Sadly the USA has no official term for it's citizens, but I have found that US-American is less offensive than American. Personally, I like to call myself a Minnesotan, then explain that it is a state in the USA.
This week has been full of ups and downs. The death of someone in school, maneuvering classes that I can't understand, wandering around Copenhagen & Hillerød, speaking Danish.The fact that I have been here for a month already is extremely disheartening. I can feel the minutes ticking away, it makes me very nervous and I don't want to waste a single moment. I'm afraid of what's going to happen when this year is over, I will be a senior, time to start real life. If you don't think that's absolutely terrifying, there is something seriously wrong with you. As humans we fear the unknown.
Whilst preparing for our exchanges, Rotary told us repeatedly, "If you don't go to school in your host country, you get sent home. No school=No exchange."
Before arriving in Denmark, I had contemplated that statement numerous times. Why was school so important during exchange? It would just takes time away from all the adventures I'm having, I could stay home if I wanted to go to school!The answer was, you experience emotions and culture that you couldn't have any other way.
One day I was sitting in some class, bored out of my mind. Then some boys right in front of me started goofing off, they were acting like a bunch of idiots. Even without understanding what they were saying, they still made me laugh pretty hard. Another time this happened was this past Monday. The previous Friday, there was a boy who was hit by a train after being at a school party. The boy, Jonas, was sixteen. Much too young to die. Monday morning, we all filed into an assembly. Somebody, I presumed he was the principle, read something about Jonas. Even without understanding what was said, I could feel the heartbreak. So many classmates were in utter grief, and I could feel without understanding. School is important because it gives you an insight to things that are unspoken in a culture.
Over the course of a month, my language skills have grown. While I still can't understand everything, its a great start. I had my first conversation in FULL Danish. It went something like this;
*70+ year old lady says something to me in Danish*
"I cannot speak Danish."
"Oh! Where are you from?"
"I am from the USA."
It might have been a short conversation, but I was extremely proud of myself for being able to do it. Lately, I have been saying "I cannot speak Danish" quite frequently in stores. I love the fact that if anyone saw me on the street, they would assume I was Danish until I opened my mouth. I even dress like the Danes, black, grey, and white.
The biggest part of exchange is experiencing your country in a non-tourist way, which I accomplished on Saturday. My friend Aly and I decided that we wanted to go to Copenhagen on Saturday. This trip would include no plans, no schedules, no tours. We just wants to wander around and get lost in the city. We made it to the main Copenhagen station and met up with another friend, Sophia. After we all met up, we had to figure out the best way to get to a specific part of the city. It took us around 15 minutes to figure out where to go, then we struggled to figure out which train to take. When we got to the place we wanted, we went to H&M. Later, Aly had to meet up with her counselor. That took us a solid half hour to get everyone in the right place. After meeting up with him, we argued and got lost trying to find the perfect place to get Chinese takeout. We settled on a questionable place called Mr. Chin's Chinabox Takeout. When the day was over, we found our way to the train station and went home. We didn't accomplished much that day, but we didn't ask a single person for directions. That's what being an exchange student is all about, getting lost and figuring things out the way a local would.
Lately the debate of whether or not people from the United States should call themselves "Americans" has come up. Geographically speaking, there are two (some may say three) Americas. North and South (sometimes Central America too). Within these Americas, there are countries. I don't know about you, but if I knew someone was from Chile, I would call them Chilean. I wouldn't call them South American, unless I didn't know exactly which country they were from. The same thing should go with those living in North America. Canadians, Mexicans, and those living in the USA are all by definition North Americans. Sadly the USA has no official term for it's citizens, but I have found that US-American is less offensive than American. Personally, I like to call myself a Minnesotan, then explain that it is a state in the USA.
This week has been full of ups and downs. The death of someone in school, maneuvering classes that I can't understand, wandering around Copenhagen & Hillerød, speaking Danish.The fact that I have been here for a month already is extremely disheartening. I can feel the minutes ticking away, it makes me very nervous and I don't want to waste a single moment. I'm afraid of what's going to happen when this year is over, I will be a senior, time to start real life. If you don't think that's absolutely terrifying, there is something seriously wrong with you. As humans we fear the unknown.
This is a frequent problem, cars driving down unmarked, pedestrian zones. (Hillerød)
Copenhagen
Went to the MAD (Modern American Diner) in Copenhagen, here's their attempt at Mac n' Cheese...
Tuesday, September 2, 2014
My 3rd Week
Hello again! I'm sorry there was a bit of a gap between posts, I was not able to post anything. So it will jump from my 1st week to my 3rd week. Sorry.
This last week, I was at intro camp. Rotary sends all the exchange students to the Nørgaards Højskole. (I can't really explain what the facility is in English, the best I can do is call it a year long boarding school). At intro camp, we were subjected to 6 hours of Danish lessons everyday. The main thing that I learned was that Danish has very complicated grammar rules and how to say I love cake, (Jeg elsker kage). The food was typical Danish food, and made in mass quantities. I have never missed American food more, especially Mac n' Cheese. THEY DON'T HAVE IT HERE, AT ALL.
Every night during the week, the South Americans would play music and have a dance party. It was insanely fun to try and dance to their music. The North Americans were awful at dancing compared to the South Americans, but it was still fun. The South Americans are a lively bunch, especially when you're on a long bus trip and it's before 9:00. They play their music loud, and it's just WONDERFUL.
On Thursday, we went to Aarhus. It was an hour long bus ride, which was spent gossiping. Our first stop in Aarhus was the Aros Art Museum. Some of the people were extremely loud in the museum, children who make unnecessary noises should not be aloud inside. I absolutely adore art museums, but at that point I wanted to walk right out. Besides the chaos, the museum was marvelous. I am a big fan of contemporary, modern art and that place was like the holy grail. There are three exhibits that come to mind when I think about that museum.
1. The rainbow on top of the building. It is utterly fascinating to see all the ways the colors of lighting can change our perspective.
2. The Boy, it is a larger-than-life sculpture of a young boy. This may not sound impressive, but he was so life-like it gave me the chills. The amount of detail was phenomenal.
3. The rainbow smoke room. It was a room filled with (harmless) smoke burned from banana oil with colored lights. It was surreal, you couldn't see more than a foot ahead of you because the smoke was so thick. The colored lights made it dream-like with all the colors of the rainbow. So if you are ever in Aarhus, go to the museum and see this exhibit.
After that, we wandered around Aarhus. We found a Starbucks, which was exciting. I hadn't yet seen a Starbucks in Denmark. And I bought some excellent Italian ice.
As the week was drawn to a close, there were many dramatic goodbyes. Long hugs and tears between friends, and passionate kisses between forbidden lovers. The bus ride back had an air of exhaustion, just about everyone was sleeping peacefully by the time we made it to Copenhagen. When the bus stopped, I said goodbye to people who went from acquaintances to good friends. It wasn't sad, because I will see them again. It was a good week, filled with Wicked, #europrobs, and some Danish lessons.
This last week, I was at intro camp. Rotary sends all the exchange students to the Nørgaards Højskole. (I can't really explain what the facility is in English, the best I can do is call it a year long boarding school). At intro camp, we were subjected to 6 hours of Danish lessons everyday. The main thing that I learned was that Danish has very complicated grammar rules and how to say I love cake, (Jeg elsker kage). The food was typical Danish food, and made in mass quantities. I have never missed American food more, especially Mac n' Cheese. THEY DON'T HAVE IT HERE, AT ALL.
Every night during the week, the South Americans would play music and have a dance party. It was insanely fun to try and dance to their music. The North Americans were awful at dancing compared to the South Americans, but it was still fun. The South Americans are a lively bunch, especially when you're on a long bus trip and it's before 9:00. They play their music loud, and it's just WONDERFUL.
On Thursday, we went to Aarhus. It was an hour long bus ride, which was spent gossiping. Our first stop in Aarhus was the Aros Art Museum. Some of the people were extremely loud in the museum, children who make unnecessary noises should not be aloud inside. I absolutely adore art museums, but at that point I wanted to walk right out. Besides the chaos, the museum was marvelous. I am a big fan of contemporary, modern art and that place was like the holy grail. There are three exhibits that come to mind when I think about that museum.
1. The rainbow on top of the building. It is utterly fascinating to see all the ways the colors of lighting can change our perspective.
2. The Boy, it is a larger-than-life sculpture of a young boy. This may not sound impressive, but he was so life-like it gave me the chills. The amount of detail was phenomenal.
3. The rainbow smoke room. It was a room filled with (harmless) smoke burned from banana oil with colored lights. It was surreal, you couldn't see more than a foot ahead of you because the smoke was so thick. The colored lights made it dream-like with all the colors of the rainbow. So if you are ever in Aarhus, go to the museum and see this exhibit.
After that, we wandered around Aarhus. We found a Starbucks, which was exciting. I hadn't yet seen a Starbucks in Denmark. And I bought some excellent Italian ice.
As the week was drawn to a close, there were many dramatic goodbyes. Long hugs and tears between friends, and passionate kisses between forbidden lovers. The bus ride back had an air of exhaustion, just about everyone was sleeping peacefully by the time we made it to Copenhagen. When the bus stopped, I said goodbye to people who went from acquaintances to good friends. It wasn't sad, because I will see them again. It was a good week, filled with Wicked, #europrobs, and some Danish lessons.
After saying goodbye, I had to take the train home, because my host family was stuck in Sweden. I had ridden that route one time before, with people who spoke Danish. I bought a ticket, with the help of a kind stranger, then waited for the S train that would take me to the Hillerød station. The screen near the tracks said "00 until departure" and I still couldn't find a train that said Hillerød on it. So I asked someone who works at the station if that was the correct train, I couldn't understand what he was saying and he just pushed me towards the train doors. Inside, the train was packed like a can of sardines, I could barely fit my suitcase between the people. After about 5 minutes on the train, an announcement came on over the intercom. It was in Danish, so I asked the patrons of the train what the announcement had said. A nice, young woman answered, "You have to get off the train and take a train bus to Hillerød, it goes straight to the station there. I'm heading that way if you want to follow me."
I nodded, relived that someone knew what was going on. When we got off the train, we headed out the doors of the station to a bus stop right next to it. A typical city bus came and picked up a load of people, we were not able to get on. We waited for about 20 minutes, then a female train attendant came and told us that the buses were having trouble getting around, so they would send tour buses to take us to the station. Eventually the buses came, and I was separated from the nice lady. When on the bus I relaxed, thinking "This is it, this bus will take me to the right station, then I can take the local train and go home".
Boy, was I wrong. The bus came to a stop, at Helstrup... So I ran around for 5 minutes and found a train that was maybe going where I needed it to. I got on, then train came to a stop, in Hillerød. I called my host mom and told her that I was almost home, she said that if the train didn't leave in 20 minutes my host dad would come and pick me up from the station. Shortly after the phone call, my phone died. My host mom is the type of woman who worries, a lot. As soon as it died, I knew she would get very worried, and I hoped she wouldn't call the police to look for me when I didn't answer my phone. The train came, and I got on. There was some things that needed fixing, so the train didn't leave for a good 10-15 minutes. Finally it took off, and my host dad was waiting at the Græsted station when I arrived. It had taken me 4 hours to get home, instead of the usual 2 hours. Later I learned that all of this was caused by major flooding all over the country.
There are three thing that I am proud of doing since coming to Denmark;
- Being able to remove a chocolate stain, and a blood stain from a WHITE shirt.
- Maneuvering an insanely difficult transportation situation, while staying calm.
- Finally loving what I'm doing with my life.
My 1st week
Lets start with the journey here.
It was about 5:45 PM when I finally go onto my flight. To say in the mildest terms, I was a wreck. I was leaving the people who loved me most in the world FOR AN ENTIRE YEAR, who in their right mind does that?! Obviously, if you know an exchange student you will agree they are not the typical breed of human. Saying goodbye to my mom and sister hurt the most. My mom was saying how proud of me she was, all I could do was TRY to thanks her…words will never explain how much I have been blessed by my parents. Saying goodbye to my sister was almost unbearable, I almost couldn’t leave. She is my best friend, my partner in crime.
Fast forward a few hours. There I am in the Minneapolis airport, RUNNING AS IF LIFE DEPENDED ON IT (for those who know me personally, I’m sure you're shocked) because they were calling a flight for Amsterdam. As I make it to my gate, huffing and puffing, I realize that it was not my flight. All that cardio for nothing. The flight to Amsterdam was miserable, it was loud, uncomfortable, and I got maybe two hours of sleep on that Eight hour flight. Landing in Amsterdam was a relief…for about ten minutes. Then it was on to customs and immigration, sheer hell. Onto another flight to Copenhagen. After landing, I collected my bags and went through the doors. The very first thing I saw was a big banner saying “Welcome Baehlee!”
I was so relieved. On the car ride to my new home, I immediately began to like my host family. They were perfect. After seeing all of the house, I loved it. It is the kind of house I would like to own someday. My host family is eccentric to say the least, reminding me so much of my family back home. What I love the most about them, is that they are not perfect. They make mistakes and it's ok when somebody screws up. Whether it's eating a food that is meant for a dessert topping, or messing up when speaking the language, mistakes are what exchange is all about.
I have lived in the same small town my entire life. I have gone to school with the same couple hundred students since kindergarten. On the night before my first day of school, I could not sleep. My anxiety over being the new kid was sitting on my chest like a rock. I was afraid to be the new kid, on top of that, I can't speak the language. When morning finally came, I picked out a killer outfit and my host mom drove me to school. Walking in the doors, I was simultaneously mesmerized and terrified. Everywhere I looked was well groomed, nicely dressed, teenagers. My host mom and I waited for a teacher to come and bring me to class. I was so scared, I could barely say hello. They brought me into the classroom and I met my class. Instantly there was a girl who helped me out. She too had been an exchange student, so she knew how I felt. On that first day I didn't do much, just watched and listened. Even without speaking the language I could tell who were the class clowns, socialites, braniacs, and teachers pet.
Adjusting to everything in Denmark has been pretty easy, except for the language and the public transportation.
It was about 5:45 PM when I finally go onto my flight. To say in the mildest terms, I was a wreck. I was leaving the people who loved me most in the world FOR AN ENTIRE YEAR, who in their right mind does that?! Obviously, if you know an exchange student you will agree they are not the typical breed of human. Saying goodbye to my mom and sister hurt the most. My mom was saying how proud of me she was, all I could do was TRY to thanks her…words will never explain how much I have been blessed by my parents. Saying goodbye to my sister was almost unbearable, I almost couldn’t leave. She is my best friend, my partner in crime.
Fast forward a few hours. There I am in the Minneapolis airport, RUNNING AS IF LIFE DEPENDED ON IT (for those who know me personally, I’m sure you're shocked) because they were calling a flight for Amsterdam. As I make it to my gate, huffing and puffing, I realize that it was not my flight. All that cardio for nothing. The flight to Amsterdam was miserable, it was loud, uncomfortable, and I got maybe two hours of sleep on that Eight hour flight. Landing in Amsterdam was a relief…for about ten minutes. Then it was on to customs and immigration, sheer hell. Onto another flight to Copenhagen. After landing, I collected my bags and went through the doors. The very first thing I saw was a big banner saying “Welcome Baehlee!”
Here's a picture of the group that traveled together, in the Copenhagen airport.
I was so relieved. On the car ride to my new home, I immediately began to like my host family. They were perfect. After seeing all of the house, I loved it. It is the kind of house I would like to own someday. My host family is eccentric to say the least, reminding me so much of my family back home. What I love the most about them, is that they are not perfect. They make mistakes and it's ok when somebody screws up. Whether it's eating a food that is meant for a dessert topping, or messing up when speaking the language, mistakes are what exchange is all about.
I have lived in the same small town my entire life. I have gone to school with the same couple hundred students since kindergarten. On the night before my first day of school, I could not sleep. My anxiety over being the new kid was sitting on my chest like a rock. I was afraid to be the new kid, on top of that, I can't speak the language. When morning finally came, I picked out a killer outfit and my host mom drove me to school. Walking in the doors, I was simultaneously mesmerized and terrified. Everywhere I looked was well groomed, nicely dressed, teenagers. My host mom and I waited for a teacher to come and bring me to class. I was so scared, I could barely say hello. They brought me into the classroom and I met my class. Instantly there was a girl who helped me out. She too had been an exchange student, so she knew how I felt. On that first day I didn't do much, just watched and listened. Even without speaking the language I could tell who were the class clowns, socialites, braniacs, and teachers pet.
Adjusting to everything in Denmark has been pretty easy, except for the language and the public transportation.
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