Life 1: The first moments on Danish soil

It’s been over six months since I've moved to Denmark now and people have asked me how I’m doing. Arbitrary questions usually include, but are not limited to:

‘’How is Denmark different from the Netherlands?’’

‘’Is beer really 10 euro’s a glass?’’

‘’Are Danes really as cold as the weather?’’

I find myself struggling to answer these questions. The people in question generally ask these specific questions to have their stereotypes confirmed, but that would mean I have to lie. To be fair, Denmark is a great country, but like any other, not without its drawbacks. It’s also not as it is portrayed, which happens to just about any country, anywhere, in the history of the world. And in case you’re wondering – I will answer those questions, during the course of this text. Or the sequel. I'm lazy like that.

So let’s start at the beginning. So when I first arrived, I realized, as per usual, that preparation is not one of my strong suits. Paradoxically, organization is (I‘m killer in to-do lists and setting priorities. Writing a to-do list is always my first priority) is one of the things I am good at. I got off the train, with a heavy backpack, large suitcase and a smaller backpack in hand. As you would expect on a night train, the bed I slept in was too small, so to say that I had a comfortable night would be overstating matters. Hauling all my stuff out of the train, I was tired to start with and only rough idea of where to go. I had an address where to go to and for some reason I assumed the bus system would be simple and clear enough to take me to my destination in an orderly fashion.

As a good friend of mine always says: ‘’Assumption is the mother of all fuck-ups.’’

This was no different. Aarhus’ bus system is relatively straightforward, the confusing thing to someone new in town is the fact that the main station has about 14 bus stops, most all going in different directions. Packed up like a donkey, you would like to know which one to take and where to get off. I did not look this up. I felt utterly stupid. So after checking most all the bus-stops, while it was raining and  while I was tired a feeling I felt a few times before crept up my spine, into the back of my brain and silently out of my mouth.

‘’Why the hell did I do this again?’’

But that is bread and butter of life I suppose. That feeling that everything is different and new and stupid in a way. Not stupid is a necessarily degrading way, but in a way that makes you think that the way you have always done things is the only way things are supposed to be done. A new country will always challenge you in this view, like a smack in the face, often when you just need it.