My Danish teacher told us that Danes are like ketchup that is initially difficult to get out of the bottle. This is because Danes take a while to start talking. But once they start, they just keep on talking.
So far I’ve found the metaphor to be true. It feels like a century ago that I arrived in Copenhagen and was instantly puzzled by the funny language that resembled gibberish to an uncanny degree. Yet after about six weeks living in here, I feel quite confident in my ability to navigate around the city and do the things I need to do.
Believe it or not, I can now actually hold a conversation in this quirky Scandinavian language and do day-to-day things like order coffee at a café or buy groceries at a supermarket. I love it when someone, such as a bus driver or a waiter, responds to my Danish inquiries in Danish, thinking that I speak it fluently. Sometimes, if it’s on a bus and there is a long line behind me waiting to board, I just smile and nod. I now know how to say, “I don’t speak Danish” (“Jeg taler ikke dansk”). But I’m still learning.
As odd as it seems, there are no words for ‘sorry’ or ‘you’re welcome’ in Danish. This presents a problem for anxious Americans, as illustrated by a recent experience on the bus. I was in a big group trying to get to the airport, and due to the metro’s temporary shutdown, no one knew which bus stop was theirs. The man sitting next to me told me where to go so I said thank you (“tak”). He replied courteously, in English, “Sorry.” No wonder Danes get confused between those two English phrases—there simply is no Danish equivalent.
I’m living in a kollegium, which is a similar to a dorm, except with all single rooms and students from various universities. Some are in programs at nearby schools like Roskilde University, but everyone is a student because it is a prerequisite for living there (free for Danes). Kollegiums are the most popular housing option in Denmark and are generally difficult to get into because of their desirability. They are located all over the city, and mine is in Amager (pronounced “Amah”), an island to the southeast of central Copenhagen.
Here’s another amusing-at-my-expense interaction with a Dane from my kollegium’s kitchen: when Danes ask “Hi, how are you?” they actually expect to sit down for a good 10 or 20 minutes and hear how you’re doing, whereas for Americans, it is a greeting in passing. The first week of classes, I went into the kitchen to grab a yogurt to eat on the bus to school and saw Emil reading the paper at the table. I asked him how he was as I ran through and realized too late that I had committed a Danish faux pas.
Another cultural difference is the etiquette on public transportation. Where I grew up in the DC metro area, people are pretty loud on public transportation. For some reason, Danes are reluctant to speak up, even if they need someone to let them through on the metro. Instead of simply saying, “Excuse me, I need to get off at the next stop,” they jiggle their bags to make noise to let you know they need to get out.
Currently, I’m taking a diverse mix of classes: psychology of happiness, a literature class on Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tales, a philosophy course on Kierkegaard, Sartre, and Heidegger, a Danish language and culture class, an ethnic conflict class and a class on Russian politics and culture.
I’m learning a lot and enjoying the balance of work and play and have an excellent combination of papers, exams and presentations. I just hope they will be helpful in planning trips to visit friends in other parts of Europe!
Vi ses på Wellesley! (See you at Wellesley!)
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