Study abroad?
You bet! Denmark was an incredible experience
By Ginger Warburton
November 7, 2005 | In
August 2004 I walked away from the Taggart Student Center
at Utah State, I was overcome with the feeling that
I needed to be somewhere else, and no I hadn't forgotten
about work that day. I felt I really needed to be somewhere
else, I didn't know where exactly, but I decided to
something about it. I turned around and went back into
the TSC, straight to the Study Abroad office.
Four months later at the end of January
I was on my way to Aalborg, Denmark. I knew nothing
of the Danish culture, country, or history. First I
was flying to London, spending the day there and then
heading to Copenhagen by plane where I would catch a
bus or a train I wasn't even sure of what it would be
or if I even could.
I sat on the plane wondering what
I would do when I arrived in London at 6 a.m. I wondered
if I could actually figure how to get around by myself.
Growing up in Logan, I didn't have a lot of experience
with mass transportation. I started chatting with the
man next to me, we talked about the in-flight movies
and agreed they weren't very good. I didn't tell him
the movie The Notebook had me frantically fighting
off tears. His name was Kavan and he was from South
Africa, he had been visiting Colorado from London. Just
before we landed he said I could leave my bag at his
flat while I looked around the city. I was so relieved,
especially when we arrived to a black, sleeping London.
At his house I promptly fell asleep on the couch. When
I awoke I met his two flatmates, Nikki and her brother,
also from South Africa. Nikki had made a beautiful Sunday
dinner, and showed me around the city, when we were
through eating.
The next morning at 4 a.m. I was
in a taxi on the way to Stansted Airport. Needless to
say I finally arrived in Aalborg, Denmark late that
evening. After what seemed like one of the longest walks
of my life, I made it to the Studenten Huset (Student
House) I checked in and a Danish girl drove me to my
housing.
I don't know what I had expected,
but it most certainly was not the sorry looking building
I saw before me. It was dark and cold outside, we had
just driven past a lot of construction. They've put
me in the Danish ghetto! I thought to myself. She
walked me inside, and we walked past door after door,
it was starting to feel like some bizarre hotel. We
walked down some stairs, past two large round tables,
and what looked like a cooking area. It was so covered
with food and dirty dishes, I caught myself wrinkling
my nose. The worst was yet to come.
I opened the door to my "apartment"
to what looked like a tiny kitchen area, it had a small
stainless steel sink with two burners next to it for
cooking, and a mini fridge below it. To the right was
a door where the toilet was and a shower head. I was
a little confused because the shower head was pointing
straight at the toilet. I continued on into what was
about a 10-by-6-foot room. There was a tall bookshelf,
a table, a night stand, and a couch/bed. It was dark,
and the only light available came from a lamp on the
wall and small desk light. It was incredibly small and
dreary. I held back the tears until my Danish escort
left. After she left I stood looking around and wondering,
what the hell had I gotten myself into? I didn't even
dare sit down because I was certain whoever had lived
here before was, of course a disgusting slob.
I met my neighbor two doors down,
an American from Nebraska, we commiserated and she gave
me some cleaning supplies she had bought. I cleaned
my room and tried to sleep. All the time, hating myself
for getting into this situation and being across the
world from everything and everyone I knew and loved.
I made it through the first night,
and awoke in the morning to my dingy little room. I
felt so dejected it took me a while to actually venture
outside. I finally did, and immediately met my neighbors
and soon to be friends who were all in the exact situation
I was. After that first night the following six months
went by like a blur. I spent my days at the International
University studying, or biking around the countryside,
going into the city to shop for clothes; my nights were
spent with friends watching movies, or dancing at our
favorite bar on Jom Fru street.
So what is a small Danish city like
to a young American girl from the country? Since arriving
in Denmark I had immediately noticed some very interesting
things about Denmark and the Danish people. One of the
most stunning realizations and one of the starkest constrasts
between our two beloved countries is the appearances
of our people. I'm not talking about physical features,
or how much or how little time everyone takes getting
ready, I'm talking about how similar everyone appears.
Walking around Aalborg one day, I noticed I was seeing
the same people over and over again. This seemed very
strange, but when I looked a bit closer I realized they
were all different people. They appeared the same because
they all had similar hairstyles, jeans, shoes, shirts,
blazers, coats, scarves, mittens, and even the women's
make up was similar. People drove similar cars, had
similar styles of houses, flowers in their gardens,
and food in their cupboards. Completely in shock and
wonderment I asked a Danish friend of mine, if what
I noticed was in fact reality? Or was it crazy? Or was
it just Aalborg? He said it was interesting that I had
noticed that. He said he felt that Danes strove to be
one country, one people and to be equal in everything.
I realized not only had Denmark succeeded in getting
rid of poverty and leveling the financial field with
a Socialist government, it was well on its way to leveling
all other fields as well. Truly everyone was becoming
equal.
To comment again on appearance: It
seemed as a Dane one doesn't appear at all outside of
their homes (maybe even inside their homes) without
looking completely immaculate. Girls ride their bikes,
walk to work, and probably even climb mountains in high
heels, color-coordinated accessories, beautiful make-up,
and with every single hair in place, and they all manage
to do without getting blisters, limping around, or being
late.
In Denmark it takes exactly six to
eight weeks to get just about anything. For example;
a bank account; a CPR number (equivalent to our Social
Security numbers), or a letter in the mail. Although,
Danish people seem to be very orderly (except when getting
on and off the bus, where it is every man, woman, and
child for themselves) every building you enter has a
little machine dispensing paper numbers. At the post
office, bank, bus station, library, or any information
desk everyone must take a number even if no one in line
ahead of you. Then, of course, you wait until your number
appears on the screen above the smiling person behind
the counter, desk, or window.
I asked my friend from Kansas about
how why she went to Denmark and what she thought initially.
"I did a semester abroad because I was bored at my old
school and I wanted to meet new people. I also had friends
in Germany who I was interested in visiting again. Another
thing, the guys in the U.S. were getting pretty boring
too and I wanted to see just how good the French really
did kiss.... My first impressions were that I was going
to hate Denmark. It wasn't exactly that breathtaking
of a country. The people I met first off though were
really nice and helpful. I had two guys carry my bags
for me and they were so helpful at getting me where
I wanted to go. I got lost on the first day there on
the bus system and the bus driver was so nice and helped
me get to the right bus. I felt really overwhelmed when
I first arrived and was like, wow, I really am on my
own and by myself. It was exciting though too."
While at Aalborg International University
Aalborg International University I had the
opportunity to do an internship and write articles for
the monthly university magazine, I also along with some
classmates filmed a movie, worked at a radio station
as a disc jockey, and joined a Danish boxing team. Besides
all that I met some of the most amazing people and had
some of the most incredible experiences of my entire
life.
NW
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