My Personal Groundhog Day

One year ago, I wrote the following:

Two years ago, I wrote the following: 

We moved to Denmark [...]. It's windy and cold. People are nice but reserved. I ride a bike and am still trying to figure out what life here is all about. 

Two years on, nothing has changed. Nothing. It's almost July, and I'm wearing a sweater. My feet are freezing. I'm about to put on rain gear to get Monkey from the kindergarten on my bike. I will smile at people who may or may not make eye contact with me. Tonight I will contemplate what life aftersprogskole is all about. Check back in June 2018 to see if I've cracked the code. 

Dad and the Monkey stretch their legs in
Yellowstone; Nampa, ID to Sheridan, WY
Roadtrip June 2015

Now it's June 2017, and again, nothing has changed. I'm still wearing a sweater, probably the same one, and my feet are still freezing. I don't think they ever warmed up. I had my rain gear on earlier today. I smiled at some people who looked almost affronted.

I don't have to wonder why I didn't write this same blog in June 2015, because over the past few weeks, Google has been inviting me regularly to 'rediscover this day' by showing me pictures of what I was doing in June 2015. And what I was doing in June 2015 was sweltering in the heat of one of the hottest Idaho Junes on record--and loving it.

So next year, in June 2018, I will look at this, my Groundhog Day blog, copy and paste it into a new blog, write yet again that nothing has changed, then continue trying to figure out life in Denmark.

Then put your little hand in mine, there ain't no hill or mountain we can't climb, Babe. I got you, Babe. 

Bad Choices and Juleafslutning

Strange weather these days

On Friday morning, not only did I decide not to wear my ski pants, I decided not to pack the ski pants. 

Whatever was I thinking. 

I was thinking that just once I wanted to show up at school without looking like I was dressed for an Arctic expedition. I was thinking that since it was our Christmas party (juleafslutning), I could try to look a little bit nice. I could avoid hat hair by not wearing my hat. I could carry my leather purse instead of my ancient Jansport. I could wear a little mascara. 

These were all bad choices. 

'Bedraggled raccoon in wet jeans' will probably call up an accurate mental picture of how I looked sitting in the Sprogcentret Christmas service in Holstebro Church. Sogginess aside, it was a lovely service. Sprogcentret students nearly filled the church--there must have been several hundred of us.

Musikskole

Back at the school, I stood against the radiator. We played a gift exchange game and ate pebernødder and brunkager and drank coffee. I dried out and warmed up. Then we carpooled over to the music school for a short orchestra concert by the young people. 

I caught a rain and hail free window in which to ride home.

I Can't Escape Black Friday, and the Gloom Settles In

My winter coziness

A week or so ago I went out to Bilka to do some shopping and was horrified to see large posters advertising Black Friday sales. Black Friday. In Denmark. It wasn't just contained to Bilka either. It was everywhere. It has actually become an event here. The black cloud of American retail greed and consumer excess has invaded the peaceful gloom of Scandinavian winter. They could at least have the decency to import Thanksgiving Thursday as well, don't you think?

Speaking of gloom, the sun is currently rising after 8am and setting before 4pm. If it's cloudy, the daylight hours are even shorter. The Danish way of coping is to light lots of candles and create coziness in a variety of ways. I am attempting to do this by decorating for Christmas, playing Christmas music, and baking.

And so life chugs along. Happy Holidays to all.

The Weather Is My Nemesis and Cashew Cheese

Monkey Baby and Viking Man walk in the rain

I just lived through the coldest August I've ever experienced. My fight with the weather is a big sign that Integration is still struggling to gain a point against Denmark. I do not see myself EVER accepting that wearing a down jacket and gloves in the middle of August is normal. On the up side, I can cycle into town wearing full rain gear and rubber boots and not feel like a complete loon. The Monkey obviously has not lived long enough to know any better, for she actually seems to like the cold and rain.

Fortunately for my sanity, September has been kind with blue skies and lovely warm afternoons.

Language class is finally falling into a routine, and my relationship with the Danish language is turning into one of alternating love and hate. I love studying. I love discussing points of grammar. I love being part of this little group in which we are all fighting for the same thing. But I hate speaking. I hate being misunderstood, hate having to repeat myself, hate not yet knowing how to say what I want to say. I hate the feeling that people are just waiting for me to 'become Danish'.

I went into a Middle Eastern grocery the other day. It was packed floor to high ceiling with spices, specialities, and imported goods of a great variety. Every spare surface and corner had been utilized. It was cramped and colorful and chaotic, and I was surprised by how comforting I found it. It was so--not Danish. It was the feeling of Asia, which I will admit to missing on occasion.

So it then felt very surreal to interact with the Middle Eastern employees in Danish. Talk about worlds colliding. But I successfully found out the price per/kg of sweet potatoes, that lemons were three for something, and that I should purchase cashews from the bulk boxes at the register.

Speaking of cashews, I fail to see how anyone can convince themselves that they are in any way a passable replacement for cheese. Just google 'cashews as cheese' and you will see it's actually quite a thing.

Anyway, the other night I decided to make raw 'alfredo' sauce served over zucchini noodles. 'I can honestly say that I like this alfredo sauce more than standard alfredo sauce. HONEST!' gushed the recipe author. My feelings about it were not quite as effusive. I failed to pick up on the cheesy, creamy, 'oh so alfredoey' aspect of it that was being sold to me. It was more like cashew hummus, which is actually how I think I'll use the leftovers. But we did like the zucchini noodles.

Now I need to get out and enjoy the sun while I can.

I have holiday and the Potato Parents visit

During holiday time in Denmark, everything stops. There are no more organized play groups, no more swim classes, no school, no daycare, nothing. I haven't been to language school for six weeks. The Monkey and I have spent a lot of time in the sand box.

On a positive note, the weather for the past few weeks was stunning. It was hot and sunny, and I wore my Singapore clothes. Viking Man started to wilt. I started to feel like a normal person.

In 2006, I moved to Korea for one year. My mom said that if I ended up staying another year, she would visit. I stayed another year. And another. I got married. I moved. It took a baby in 2013 for me to get that visit from her. Then again, the Parents are hemmers and hawers by nature. After my dad's plan to come to Singapore with my mom was thwarted by the stem cell transplant, I wasn't sure they would ever be able to make another decision about visiting. But they did! And they both came! And it was so much fun to show them our life in Denmark. We went to Lønstrup and Skagen, Legoland, Spøttrup Borg, and did some general touring in Holstebro and the surrounding area.

Those two weeks raced by, then we had to say farvel. Monkey Baby looked for Grammy and Grumpa the morning they left, waved and said 'hej hej' when we went in the empty guest room. Boo.

Now the fantastic weather has reverted to normal Danish weather, which means I am cold and Viking Man is no longer in crisis. The Monkey is back in the sand box or on her scooter. Language school resumes on Monday.

I'd better dust off my books.

Photos Album Links:

• West Coast/Bremdal Strand
• Lønstrup/Skagen
• Legoland
• Spøttrup Borg

Singapore Chinatown, Mid-Autumn Festival

It's Mid-Autumn Festival time here in Asia. Known in the western world as the autumnal equinox, this day is the 15th day of the 8th month of the lunar calendar, the day of the fullest moon.

Here in Singapore, it's all about the moon cakes--people carrying around moon cakes to give as gifts, people carrying around moon cakes they were given as gifts, people carrying around non-moon cake items in moon cake bags to show that at one point they bought moon cakes at the most prestigious moon cake shop, and so on. It's also tradition to light lanterns.

One day in the early days of Singapore life, as I was sitting at the computer and gazing out over our balcony at the beautiful clear blue sky, a ridiculously loud crack of thunder shattered my reverie, propelling me halfway to the ceiling before I realized what it was. Momentarily mystified by this thunder that was literally 'out of the blue', it was not until I peeked out the front door to investigate that everything came clear, or rather, cloudy. While the SE facing the view from the balcony was as aforementioned, the NW facing view from the front door revealed roiling, seething, turbulent black clouds, rain, and streaks of lightning. I have since come to view the weather here as 'predictably unpredictable.'

So as I wandered through Chinatown the other day snapping photos of lanterns and odds and ends, I kept a corner of my eye on the indecisive sky, wondering what it was going to throw at me. At first it just played some games with the sun, but I wasn't fazed. Then it raised it's fists and threatened me, but it the end, it tucked its hands in it's pockets, spit on the ground a couple times, and left me alone. Here are some photos from my walk:

Jeju-do, Korea, February 28 - March 3

My last day of school--graduation day--was February 28. I showed up to discover that all of my kids had decided not to attend. Very disappointed and slightly bitter, I went to the graduation anyway. After school I went to my sewing class, and when I got home from that, Morten called from Jeju Island to say the weather was really nice, so why not book a flight ticket for the 29th to join him for the weekend? I checked into it, but the only tickets before the weekend was over left in an hour and a half on the night of the 28th. Being that Gimpo Airport itself was nearly an hour away, this seemed nearly impossible, not to mention the fact that I had begun to feel quite feverish. However, also feeling that this would be my last chance to see Jeju before leaving Korea, I literally threw a pile of laundry and toiletries into a suitcase, ran out the door, and crept through rush-hour traffic in a taxi to Gimpo. In a panic, I bought a ticket and started running for the gate only to realize I had nearly fifteen minutes to spare (!) which meant time to buy some much needed juice. Morten picked me up in Jeju, and we ended up having a great weekend touring beautiful Jeju-do in spite of my fever and lack of appetite.

Unexpected Rain

I woke this morning to thrashing rain and wind howling with gale force through my building. My windows and doors whistled and rattled crazily as I got ready for work. Since I don't own an umbrella, I bundled myself in my hooded jacket and made the 45 second walk around the corner. In that amount of time, my snowboarding jacket was soaked through, my shoes were flooded, and my pants were plastered to my legs. Julian was handing out towels at the door.

Julian and Esther frantically ran around all morning answering the phones and patching up leaks in the windows. I was surprised that the power never went out, though it did flicker several times. By lunch time, it had not let up much, and Julian made the decision to cancel afternoon classes due to already low morning attendance and flooding throughout the city.

Sadly, my pictures don't really capture the terrific winds or rain.

Spring, yellow dust

Spring has brought beautiful blossoms and bright green foliage, but it also brought what is know as hwang sa--the yellow dust that blows over from China. We've been told that this year has been the worst in a long time. On several days, we were told not to take the kids to the playground as the parents didn't want them outside. During the worst of it, I got a sore throat and couldn't talk very well. The middle picuture is sunset on a normal day. The bottom picture is sunset on a yellow dust day--it was an otherwise cloudless day.