Saturday, April 01, 2006
IV. Bicycler, cigaretter, og mobiltelefoner [originally posted Saturday 22 April 2000]
Had my first real twinge of homesickness recently, when I realized that the NBA playoffs begin this weekend, and I still haven't figured out a way to watch them on European TV. I have seen a couple of pretty interesting soccer matches while here though, as well as witnessing something called "handball" (which the Danes supposedly excel at) -- a sport I think best described as water polo without the water. "Football" (as contrasted to "American Football," a sport which George Wills once described as combining the two worst elements of American Society: violence and committee meetings) is a brilliantly simple game -- the idea is to put the ball into a net using any part of your body but the one you use most often and easily, your hands. Of all the variations on this same basic idea (basketball, hockey, lacrosse, etc.) "handball" has got to be the silliest -- here the idea is to put the ball into a net WITH your hands, and, after a half-hour or so of watching this spectacle, you really begin to appreciate Dr. Naismith's genius when he decided to put the goal ten feet above the ground. I've seen a little badminton on Danish TV as well (another sport at which the Danes are said to excel), and it was a lot less disappointing; I sure don't remember the shuttlecocks flying so fast in my back yard as a kid!
Broke out of my basketball-deprived funk by attending something called a Påske Frokost ("Easter Brunch") hosted by one of the local cafes. Usually, I'm told, these take place in people's homes (which is more "hyggelig"), so this was apparently somewhat unconventional: 65 kroner for all the herring, salmon, smoked lamb, Danish ham, potato salad, pasta salad (two kinds), bean salad, various kinds of Danish cheeses, and delicious deviled eggs with caviar that you could eat, along with thin-sliced bread to spread it on, and, of course, Aquavit (Danish schnapps -- for which Aalborg is famous). The "house" label was free (until it was gone, which took about twenty minutes) after which you could buy the good stuff at 10 kr a shot (about $1.35), then chase it with a half-liter of yummy Påske Øl for another 30 kr. The party started around 14:00 (two in the afternoon) and we were all still there six and a half hours later, feeling quite hyggelig indeed.
My companions for this fest were Susan, a fifteen-year American expatriate who teaches in my department, and her friend "Dutchy" who is originally from the Netherlands but has lived here about as long as Susan, a woman named Helle who grew up in Denmark but moved to London when she was nineteen and has only recently returned to Aalborg, and Steen, a 35-year-old blacksmith who now aspires to become a photographer. They all spoke excellent English (and usually remembered to do so), so I got to find out which of my jokes were capable of leaping the cultural divide. Fortunately, there is something universal about being caught having sex with a sheep that seems to have broad international appeal -- thanks Dad for teaching me how to tell a funny story!
The best Danish joke I heard was about the Danish immigrant who returns from America and boasts to his cousins that back in the States his farm is so big that it takes him all morning just to drive from one end of his fields to the other. "Yes," his Danish relative replies, "I used to have a truck like that."
The next morning I had my first encounter with the legendary Danish Tømmermænd ("hammer-man"), the little fellow who sets up residence inside your head after a long afternoon/evening of drinking aquavit. Commemorated the occasion with a long, hot shower, and then by shaving off my beard and seeing my real chin for the first time in many years. Went out in search of a real cup of coffee only to discover that the entire town of Aalborg essentially shuts down between Good Friday and "2 Påskedag" (Easter Monday), so I was left to my own devices. Finally ended up making myself a cup of Nescafe up at the International Staff House -- a pale substitute for what I really craved, although I do now have a line on a pound of Peet's French Roast which another American expatriate I've met here has sent to him monthly be a friend in the Bay Area.
Since I'm kinda in that kind of mood, this seems like a good time to write about some of my other experiences of Ugly American culture shock I've experienced since arriving here. The first thing I noticed were all the bicycles. Most of the main thoroughfares here (including my street, Jyllandsgade) are set up with a sidewalk, a bike lane, a bus lane, and a lane or two for other vehicular traffic. During my first week here I was nearly run down by bicycles three times because I hadn't figured out yet that I need to look both ways before stepping on or off a bus! Generally speaking, I'm a fairly bicycle-friendly person, so I have a hard time being TOO judgmental about the bicycles (especially since I was in the wrong), but at the very least you would think they would come equipped with bells and helmets...if not for the bicyclists, then perhaps for the pedestrians like myself who really need them.
The second thing I've noticed is that Danes smoke almost everywhere, including indoors. I've even noticed Danes smoking while riding their bicycles, which is a skill I was never ever to master. The corollary to this phenomenon is that there are ashtrays and cigarette butts everywhere you look, especially at bus stops, since busses are apparently one place where smoking is still not allowed...although you CAN bring your dog on a bus, provided it fits into your purse or backpack : ). Lots of broken beer bottles and the like as well, especially on weekends.
The third thing I've noticed is the ubiquity of cellular phones. The Danes seem to be talking with one another constantly on their mobiltelefoner: on busses, in restaurants, while walking down the street, and (of course) even while riding their bicycles (although I have yet to see a Dane both smoke a cigarette AND talk on a cell phone while riding a bicycle...but I'm sure I eventually will). Think part of the reason for this is the difference between "public" and "private" space in Denmark and in the United States. In the States we tend to spend a lot more time in our automobiles (where I've seen plenty of people smoking and talking on their cell phones while cruising at 72 mph down the Interstate), and more often than not we end up talking to someone's voicemail rather than the person themselves, even when they are home and sitting right next to the phone. Danes seem to spend a lot more of their "private" lives in what Americans would think of as "public" places: clubs, cafes, restaurants, or just out on the Stroget ("the walking street"). So it is only natural that they would bring their telephones with them. Likewise, being entertained in someone's home is a big deal, while taking someone "out" to a restaurant in certain contexts might even be considered a little gauche. Or at least that's the way it seems to an outsider who has been here less than a month. I'll be sure to keep you all posted as I learn more.
Think I'll finish up today with a few odds and ends that have caught my eye. Like the sign on the Pizza delivery place >>Du ringer, Vi bringer<< or the slogan for the bookstore Bog & Ide ("Book and Idea"): >>Vitaminer til hovedet<< ("vitamins for the head"). Or the bus placards advertising the Armed Forces as >>Aktiv Fritid<< ("active freetime") and featuring a photo of two soldiers aiming a machine gun, or (in the alternative photograph) a group of medics caring for some injured people.
Then there's the woman's clothing store on one of the walking streets which, in good weather, displays two attractively dressed female mannequins sitting out on the sidewalk at a small, round cafe table. At first glance you think you are actually passing a cafe, then you realize how your eye has been tricked. Or my personal favorite: a television advertisement for a radio station featuring an animated spermatozoa trying to "fertilize" a large, round circle; at first it can't break through, so it stops to catch its breath (huffing and puffing -- hard to describe, but very amusing), then finally succeeds and is transformed into a musical note: the station's logo. These clever Danes! What will they think of next? Highest suicide rate in the world, and not a handgun to be found anywhere in the country. At times I wonder whether they are managing to kill themselves by having too much fun......twj
Had my first real twinge of homesickness recently, when I realized that the NBA playoffs begin this weekend, and I still haven't figured out a way to watch them on European TV. I have seen a couple of pretty interesting soccer matches while here though, as well as witnessing something called "handball" (which the Danes supposedly excel at) -- a sport I think best described as water polo without the water. "Football" (as contrasted to "American Football," a sport which George Wills once described as combining the two worst elements of American Society: violence and committee meetings) is a brilliantly simple game -- the idea is to put the ball into a net using any part of your body but the one you use most often and easily, your hands. Of all the variations on this same basic idea (basketball, hockey, lacrosse, etc.) "handball" has got to be the silliest -- here the idea is to put the ball into a net WITH your hands, and, after a half-hour or so of watching this spectacle, you really begin to appreciate Dr. Naismith's genius when he decided to put the goal ten feet above the ground. I've seen a little badminton on Danish TV as well (another sport at which the Danes are said to excel), and it was a lot less disappointing; I sure don't remember the shuttlecocks flying so fast in my back yard as a kid!
Broke out of my basketball-deprived funk by attending something called a Påske Frokost ("Easter Brunch") hosted by one of the local cafes. Usually, I'm told, these take place in people's homes (which is more "hyggelig"), so this was apparently somewhat unconventional: 65 kroner for all the herring, salmon, smoked lamb, Danish ham, potato salad, pasta salad (two kinds), bean salad, various kinds of Danish cheeses, and delicious deviled eggs with caviar that you could eat, along with thin-sliced bread to spread it on, and, of course, Aquavit (Danish schnapps -- for which Aalborg is famous). The "house" label was free (until it was gone, which took about twenty minutes) after which you could buy the good stuff at 10 kr a shot (about $1.35), then chase it with a half-liter of yummy Påske Øl for another 30 kr. The party started around 14:00 (two in the afternoon) and we were all still there six and a half hours later, feeling quite hyggelig indeed.
My companions for this fest were Susan, a fifteen-year American expatriate who teaches in my department, and her friend "Dutchy" who is originally from the Netherlands but has lived here about as long as Susan, a woman named Helle who grew up in Denmark but moved to London when she was nineteen and has only recently returned to Aalborg, and Steen, a 35-year-old blacksmith who now aspires to become a photographer. They all spoke excellent English (and usually remembered to do so), so I got to find out which of my jokes were capable of leaping the cultural divide. Fortunately, there is something universal about being caught having sex with a sheep that seems to have broad international appeal -- thanks Dad for teaching me how to tell a funny story!
The best Danish joke I heard was about the Danish immigrant who returns from America and boasts to his cousins that back in the States his farm is so big that it takes him all morning just to drive from one end of his fields to the other. "Yes," his Danish relative replies, "I used to have a truck like that."
The next morning I had my first encounter with the legendary Danish Tømmermænd ("hammer-man"), the little fellow who sets up residence inside your head after a long afternoon/evening of drinking aquavit. Commemorated the occasion with a long, hot shower, and then by shaving off my beard and seeing my real chin for the first time in many years. Went out in search of a real cup of coffee only to discover that the entire town of Aalborg essentially shuts down between Good Friday and "2 Påskedag" (Easter Monday), so I was left to my own devices. Finally ended up making myself a cup of Nescafe up at the International Staff House -- a pale substitute for what I really craved, although I do now have a line on a pound of Peet's French Roast which another American expatriate I've met here has sent to him monthly be a friend in the Bay Area.
Since I'm kinda in that kind of mood, this seems like a good time to write about some of my other experiences of Ugly American culture shock I've experienced since arriving here. The first thing I noticed were all the bicycles. Most of the main thoroughfares here (including my street, Jyllandsgade) are set up with a sidewalk, a bike lane, a bus lane, and a lane or two for other vehicular traffic. During my first week here I was nearly run down by bicycles three times because I hadn't figured out yet that I need to look both ways before stepping on or off a bus! Generally speaking, I'm a fairly bicycle-friendly person, so I have a hard time being TOO judgmental about the bicycles (especially since I was in the wrong), but at the very least you would think they would come equipped with bells and helmets...if not for the bicyclists, then perhaps for the pedestrians like myself who really need them.
The second thing I've noticed is that Danes smoke almost everywhere, including indoors. I've even noticed Danes smoking while riding their bicycles, which is a skill I was never ever to master. The corollary to this phenomenon is that there are ashtrays and cigarette butts everywhere you look, especially at bus stops, since busses are apparently one place where smoking is still not allowed...although you CAN bring your dog on a bus, provided it fits into your purse or backpack : ). Lots of broken beer bottles and the like as well, especially on weekends.
The third thing I've noticed is the ubiquity of cellular phones. The Danes seem to be talking with one another constantly on their mobiltelefoner: on busses, in restaurants, while walking down the street, and (of course) even while riding their bicycles (although I have yet to see a Dane both smoke a cigarette AND talk on a cell phone while riding a bicycle...but I'm sure I eventually will). Think part of the reason for this is the difference between "public" and "private" space in Denmark and in the United States. In the States we tend to spend a lot more time in our automobiles (where I've seen plenty of people smoking and talking on their cell phones while cruising at 72 mph down the Interstate), and more often than not we end up talking to someone's voicemail rather than the person themselves, even when they are home and sitting right next to the phone. Danes seem to spend a lot more of their "private" lives in what Americans would think of as "public" places: clubs, cafes, restaurants, or just out on the Stroget ("the walking street"). So it is only natural that they would bring their telephones with them. Likewise, being entertained in someone's home is a big deal, while taking someone "out" to a restaurant in certain contexts might even be considered a little gauche. Or at least that's the way it seems to an outsider who has been here less than a month. I'll be sure to keep you all posted as I learn more.
Think I'll finish up today with a few odds and ends that have caught my eye. Like the sign on the Pizza delivery place >>Du ringer, Vi bringer<< or the slogan for the bookstore Bog & Ide ("Book and Idea"): >>Vitaminer til hovedet<< ("vitamins for the head"). Or the bus placards advertising the Armed Forces as >>Aktiv Fritid<< ("active freetime") and featuring a photo of two soldiers aiming a machine gun, or (in the alternative photograph) a group of medics caring for some injured people.
Then there's the woman's clothing store on one of the walking streets which, in good weather, displays two attractively dressed female mannequins sitting out on the sidewalk at a small, round cafe table. At first glance you think you are actually passing a cafe, then you realize how your eye has been tricked. Or my personal favorite: a television advertisement for a radio station featuring an animated spermatozoa trying to "fertilize" a large, round circle; at first it can't break through, so it stops to catch its breath (huffing and puffing -- hard to describe, but very amusing), then finally succeeds and is transformed into a musical note: the station's logo. These clever Danes! What will they think of next? Highest suicide rate in the world, and not a handgun to be found anywhere in the country. At times I wonder whether they are managing to kill themselves by having too much fun......twj
# posted by The Eclectic Cleric @ 8:32 PM 
