Living and Learning.

I know it’s a little early for this, but since I’m off for the next two weeks (!!) with my brother I thought this would be a good time to reflect. I know there are a lot of other things, but for now here are 10 things I learned about life, love and myself in Copenhagen:

1. You learn to adapt in every situation. I know I can be high strung, anxiety ridden and crazy at times, but I learned that when you get thrown (or you throw yourself) into something like this, you will adapt as quickly as your body and mind need you to.
2. People will always surprise you. Regardless whether it turns out good or bad, people will never fail to surprise you
3. Missing the little things will become more and more apparent.
4. I hate dense, super brown, bread. That’s right Denmark, I hate your “rye” bread.
5. I am much more stereotypical Canadian than I ever thought possible. I have an accent (I have been told this MANY times, by fellow Canadians as well), I miss maple syrup on pancakes and in tea, I stay up until 4am watching hockey games I stream on the internet, and I enjoy sporting the Canadian flag in every country I visit, eh?
6. I learned never to doubt my own abilities, and that independence is hard, but exceedingly rewarding. If I hadn’t have stood up for myself and believed in my abilities I wouldn’t have made it to Ireland, which turned out to be yet another lesson.
7. Do what you want to do. It’s simple, and without sounding vain, making yourself happy is the most important part of life. If you try to please others and end up miserable, what’s the point?
8. Though I already knew this, it has been cemented with this trip. I may not be very good at meeting people and making good friends, but those I do stick. One or two amazing friends are better than none at all.
9. It took me 4 months to figure out, but Shakespeare’s history plays are actually pretty badass…and the essay I wrote about them was pretty badass too (okay, so that's general, but it was due to all the independent work that is required for class here that I discovered this.)
10. Distance truly does make the heart grown fonder. I couldn’t have done this without the support of my family, friends and especially my incredible boyfriend. It may sound corny, but I didn't think I could love my boyfriend more than I did before I left...I've been proven very wrong.

Thank you to everyone for an amazing 5 months.

Jeg elsker du,

Meghan

Odds and ends

The random things I think about in different countries, an absolute odd list:

- Danes (and maybe all Europeans) don't settle for regular wheels, they want wheels that go all ways, especially on shopping carts and luggage

- Hungarian paprika is different from paprika apparently...I don't know the difference, but alright.

- Light switches in Denmark are opposite (like most everything) and you flip them down to turn them on, also, the outlets look like smiley faces

"Oh, herro! My name is Switch, Light Switch, nice to meet ya!"...seriously, don't they look happy?

- Stamps, and mail is expensive. Don't have anything shipped to Denmark, the VAT (value added tax) is nutty...like 25% or something.

- In Ireland they have the Garda, unarmed police. This was a complete mind screw to me.

- If you take a train from Bratislava to Krakow, you may end up Czech Republic...and then kicked off the train cause you got on the wrong one

- In Ireland crosswalks/street lights mean absolutely nothing. They don't change regularly enough and even if you cross on a red and a cop is sitting at the light they won't do anything (not that they could bahaha...sorry). Also there is reminders on the street which way to look...I asked my Irish roomie Donna about this and she said "well in case you forget!" to which I replied "didn't you learn when you were like 5 to look BOTH ways when crossing?", I believe she said something along the line of "that would be too much work" :P

Oh shoot, I gotta look left!

- If you're on the Metro in Denmark and there is an announcement in Danish and everyone gets off, YOU GET OFF TOO. That's the rule, seriously.

- In Hungry, if you don't buy a ticket, they will hold you hostage until you pay them money....odds are they make up an amount

- I learned from one of my Profs that in Denmark serving weak coffee is an absolute insult

- Saw this sign at a bus stop in Ireland and laughed really hard...how does one queue "unsafely"?

I'm sure I'll think of more, but these are just some things I noticed.

Hope all is well!

Jeg elsker du,

Meghan

Day 4,5 and 6: A green bus, sheep, Irish music and so much more

Oh hey, from atop Ireland :)

I took a 3 day tour of “southern” Ireland through a company called Paddy Wagon tours. I hopped on the giant green bus at 9am and was ready to go. Over the course of the 3 days I met a lot of really cool people. The age range was 18 to upward of 50 and many of the girls I met on the tour were also traveling solo. All of the people my age were from Australia* (seriously, they are everywhere), but all very laidback people and we had an awesome time.

The tour began with our guide giving us a quick introduction. His name was Barry (though all the Aussies dubbed him “Baz”) and he’s from Cork. Throughout the tour he brought ample entertainment as well as knowledge to us. He sang, told jokes and gave us all the information we needed about the places we were going and where we stopped. He made the experience that much better and I felt safe on that bus, which is a difficult feat considering the tight and winding roads in Ireland (seriously, it all looked VERY scary).

The first day we drove from Dublin to Galway. We stopped in a small town called Cong to eat lunch and take a look at the abbey and the forest. It was quaint and cozy and that’s how most of the tour turned out, which I loved. We moved on toward Galway and stopped at the Tides at Killary. The “tides” are basically a boggy/marshy gully that streams in from the ocean. It was also where the movie “The Field” was filmed (haven’t seen it, but Barry recommended it).

On our way there Barry told us the story of a tour group he had who were really into drinking, while they were driving into town they asked if they could have a beer at the pub. Barry told them yes and as he was standing outside having a smoke the owner came out to thank him for bringing in such a large crowd. He chatted with the old man a while and the man even said that he could have a free coffee while winking…needless to say, Barry passed on that coffee, but told us he thought that the old guy was quite genuinely nice person. Driving into the little town we saw a huge crowd drinking on the street, we assumed it was a wedding because it seemed they were celebrating. As it turned out it was the old mans funeral and they were drinking at his bar and celebrating his life.

We stopped at the Connemara Giant because Barry said “were stopping, because we will pass this statue and no one will believe me when I tell them why it’s there…”. Hoping off the bus we saw two statues, beneath the Connemara statue it read “built in 1999 by Joyces Craft Shop for absolutely no reason”. I had to laugh, and much like the massive spire in the middle of Dublin, it serves no purpose.

Connemara Giant

We ended up in Galway that night, had dinner and then head down to “Quays” bar. There was a live bar, cider and great company. Definitely an awesome time.

The next day we went from Galway over to Annascaul, which is about 40 minutes from Killarney. Our first stop was an abbey along the way and though I don’t remember the name of the abbey, but to me looking at the headstones is what I enjoy. It may seem morbit, but I find myself thinking about the person and their story and it’s something I like doing (I have this in common with my mother). It’s not as though I’m happy these people are gone, but I always wondering about how old they were, what their family chose to put on the headstone and if there has been anyone visiting. I think about who they were, and it’s comforting to me in a way, but this proved not to be the case at our next destination.

We then went to the Cliffs of Moher. It was an absolutely stunning view. There was a large wall built to stop people from walking along the cliffs, but over the years people have found a way around it and we took it as well. It was spectacular no doubt, but I found myself wondering about the memorial I’d seen on that wall. I couldn’t help but feel uneasy that they had a sign for those who had lost their lives. We asked Barry how many people had fallen or jumped and he said about 13/14 a year. It made me think about how such a beautiful sight could be somehow destroyed by the sadness of humanity. The Cliffs of Moher were conflicting for me, but I’m so glad I got to see them.

The Cliffs of Moher

The next morning we were off to Killarney, and I can tell you hands down it was my favourite place I visited in Ireland. There was something so warming about the small town charm and the national park was stunning. We took a horse** and carriage ride around the park and I found myself falling in love with Ireland all over again. The wonder of mountains, trees and greenery made me goofy happy. Our carriage driver was a man, about 30 years old, who told us a lot about the park, though we were all more interested in his upcoming marriage (girls, I know). He was a sweet guy who also worked as a firefighter in the city. My morning in Killarney was the best and it made me certain that I would be back one day.

Finally, we made the trip to Blarney Castle, where of course, the Blarney stone is. The castle itself was quite small, but the grounds were absolutely stunning. The stone is said to give you the gift of the gab. That is to say, you can talk and talk and talk in circles without actually saying anything, which lets just be honest, isn’t something I ever needed haha! Regardless I kissed the stone and made our way back to Dublin where I finished off my trip with a day in St. Stephen’s green people watching and enjoying the sun.

Kissing the stone

Ireland was a wonderful adventure and I was thankful I got to do it on my own. I met a lot of cool people and will definitely be going back one day.

Cheers Ireland, you were awesome.

Jeg elsker du,

Meghan

*exception: 1 New Zealander, 1 South African and 1 Balinese

**Our horses name was Jumbo

SHEEP!

Day 3: Kilmainham Goal & The Guinness Brewery/Storehouse, a short one.

On my third day in Ireland I bought a day bus pass to get to Kilmainham Prison and the Guinness Brewery which are a little farther than most of the attractions in Dublin.

Kilmainham

Kilmainham Goal is now unoccupied and has been turned into a museum. It marks many historical events in Irish history. I took a tour with a guide, Peter, who took a group of us around the prison telling us stories and giving us historical context. The prison was built in 1792 and was originally supposed to be for political prisoners, though Peter told us that only a small percentage were actually arrested for political crimes. During the time when England was trying to strip Catholicism from the country the jail was used to house people and “reform” them. There was men, women and children in the jail. The jail is the site of incarceration of (almost) every significant Irish nationalist leader. A large amount of them (Eamonn Ceannt, Tom Clarke, Cornelius Colbert, James Connolly, Edward Daly, Sean Mac Diarmada, Sean J. Heuston, Michael Mallin, Major John McBride, Thomas McDonough, Michael O'Hanrahan, Patrick Pearse, William Pearse and Joseph Plunkett) were executed in the stonebreakers yard outside the jail. The history of the jail remains to be one of the most important in Ireland and I definitely enjoyed the tour.

My morning was followed by an afternoon trip to the Guinness Brewery. Notably, I’ve never liked Guinness all that much…in fact, I’d never had a whole pint until I went to the brewery. It was really neat, they had taken the old Brewery and sectioned into 7 floors that looked like a tall cylinder (or a pint glass as they said). Like any brewery it went through the ingredients and the taste, but they also had a floor to showcase Guinness advertising over the years. The top of the building was added on more recently and is a circular bar surrounded in glass windows. It gives an amazing view to enjoy a pint of Guinness in, which admittedly I tackled and enjoyed!

Waterfall in the Guinness Brewery

Ireland day 1 & 2: Ireland is indeed green and a nerdtastic day.

Day 1:

Hey all!

Well I’m in Ireland this week for my Easter Break from uni. It is the second day and due to my clock, which didn’t switch over (I have no clue why, my phone always switches over…), I’m sitting in a café sipping on a tea and waiting for the Writer’s Museum to open. Granted I won’t be able to post this until later today/tonight because I don’t have wifi right now.

I arrived in Ireland around noon yesterday and was so excited while the plane was landing because I have to tell you, Ireland is truly green. It was stunning. It was sunny and warm yesterday and made for excellent ambling weather…especially if you’re me and you end up lost for an hour and a half. Indeed, I had a map, but that is the one thing about Dublin, the street signs are terrible. Unmarked, non-existent and the like. Being lost isn’t really a problem though, I took some pictures and I knew I’d run into a main street eventually (by the way, I did haha). I stopped off at my hostel to grab a quick snack and then headed toward Trinity College. The College is absolutely stunning, the green space is pristine and the buildings are worn and beautiful. I’m likely going to return to see the Book of Kell/the library. I then went over to Marrion square to find Sir Oscar Wilde, in statue form of course. It is quite a hilarious statue in my mind (see picture below), I got a laugh out of it.

Trinity College Green...look at that!

Oh hey Oscar...nice..pose? hahah

I knew that a friend of mine, Audrey, from Copenhagen was going to be in Ireland, but I never thought I would actually run into her in a city like Dublin. I ran into her at the Wilde statue and we continued on to the National Museum to take a peak at the bog men. The finds were incredible though I didn’t take any photos because to me it didn’t seem right to take pictures of dead bodies (studied for archaeological purposes or not). We stopped at a lovely little tea/coffee/candy shop were I had a tea and, of course, a cupcake. The girl serving me immediately asked me if I was from Canada and I thought I must have said something in an accent*, but she followed that question by “Oh no you didn’t, I just have an obsession with Canada”, I wasn’t really sure how to reply to that so I told her I was flattered and then ordered.

Dinner was at a pub “Madigans”, and I had to have fish and chips and it was pretty good…first time since being in Europe and having proper fresh large cut chips. Also had some Bulmer’s Cider, which is apparently a famous Irish cider…according to my Irish roommate Donna. After dinner, Audrey and I headed down to the water, which is like a canal that runs along O’Connell St. There are 8/9 separate small bridges and they are all named, there is even a James Joyce Bridge (but I have yet to make it over there, will before I leave).

Fish and chips and Bulmers nom nom

*Side note, more and more people have been telling me I have a strong Canadian accent?

Day 2:

For those of you who know me well, you know I live for things like old books, great literature and playwrights and my day encompassed all of that. I know some people who would prefer not to travel alone, but I think its brilliant. Sure sometimes I think it might be nice to have someone to eat dinner with or to talk about some of the things I see…but there is very few who would enjoy and appreciate my day as much as I did. I don’t mean that in the wrong way, I just mean this trip is a selfish one for me; I’m doing everything I want and compromising nothing.

I woke up and tried to take a shower, the hostel I’m staying at is fantastic, but no hot water brrr! I had an Irish breakfast (included in the price of the hostel, best choice ever, you can’t go wrong with a plate full of eggs, tomato, baked beans, toast and sausage).

Then I head out on foot toward the Irish Writers Museum. The museum is tiny…I walked past it a couple times because it looks identical to all the surrounding buildings which is a row of red brick townhouses. I got in and was provided an audio guide. I’m normally not a very big fan of audio guides, but this one was short and sweet and I was able to enjoy the guide as well as read information on my own. The museum was 2 floors and 4 rooms, which doesn’t seem like much but I spent over 2.5 hours in it. The amount of originals they have is staggering and ranges from the earlier known record of “Molly Malone” and a first edition copy of Joyce’s Ulysses. There was also a bunch of Wilde’s work as well as Samuel Beckett. There is nothing like looking at old books and being in awe. Many were “lent by (insert name here)”, other “given by (insert name here)” but I often wondered the difference….an odd thing to pick up on I suppose but it peaked my interest. Boring you with the details is trivial (you’re welcome to ask for my detail if you’re interested haha), but if you’re a lit buff like me and you ever end up in Ireland, you should definitely go.

Collection of Joyce's books (not the good ones...I wasn't allowed to photograph those sad face)

Spur of the moment I walked into The Gate theatre and asked if they had any tickets for today, because it was gloomy and slightly rainy afternoon and I thought why not? They did to my surprise (and at a reasonable price for such a renown theatre) and I saw Tennessee Williams “Cat on a Hot Tin Roof”. I adore Mr. Williams’ work and have read a lot of it. I was definitely the youngest patron at the theatre, but I expected that with a matinee…and with a Williams play. It was quite well done, but my favourite bit was definitely the old ladies around me who during intermission discussed the play**:

Women 1: “Well now I’m confused, what’s this thing they keep talking about?”

Women 2: “…I think he’s gay…that’s what they are getting at, right?”

Women 1: “I’m not sure...”

Women 1 + 2: *chuckles*

It put a smile on my face, not only because they were so confused, but because they were absolutely right; like many of Williams’ plays the idea of homosexuality is danced around, but the audience never finds out the truth of the matter. In the second act the man then states that it was only friendship, pure friendship, but like Tennessee’s real life which was filled with turmoil and questions, so is this characters true self. The actors did an impressive job and I certainly can’t imagine having an Irish accent and acting in a thick Southern American accent.

**These same women gasped at the appropriate time, and there is nothing like two older ladies gasping and whispering “what?! Oh my goodness!” to one and other.

The theatre :)

Much like being in Poland, it’s been a humbling experience in a way, but this time I didn’t dread writing about it. Now, as I sit in this lovely restaurant called “Sheries” and enjoy a delicious beef stew that the waitress recommended and a glass of red wine (shout out to my father, who taught me well), I feel blessed to be having such a wonderful time in such a magnificent place. As the Irish say “it’s grand”.

Jeg elsker du,

Meghan

Danish theatre, "that's a lot of castle.." and spring has arrived!

Hey all!

This past weekend was a lot of fun, plus it was beautiful outside which was a definite plus. Spring in Copenhagen brings two things: first sunshine, and second rain (..it's raining now). When the sun is shining it seems as though the city comes alive in a way that I hadn't experienced until recently. More Danes are out and people seem generally happier. That being said, the Danish people definitely don't liven up their colour palates in terms of fashion for Spring. I've never seen more people wearing black/brown/dark green, on such beautiful days and I thought my wardrobe lacked colour!

Saturday my mentor, Fahiya, invited me to go enjoy some Danish theatre with her and a couple of her friends. We found the theatre or so we thought...though it turned out we were very wrong and had a bit of a detour, but hey, it was an adventure. We eventually found the right place which was located adjacent to the Opera house here in Copenhagen. The theatre was the picture of Danish minimalism and the stage was small, intimate and had clean lines. My Danish isn't great (okay, if I'm being honest, I can order if I have to in Danish and I can utter the words "I'm sorry, I don't speak Danish"...otherwise I'm pretty useless) and these plays happened to be in Danish so that was interesting.

Fahiya and I

As someone who's spent a fair amount of time on stage it wasn't difficult to understand what was happening on stage. The plays (2 shorts with an intermission in between) both commented on the idea of immigration in Denmark and how immigrants are treated. The first presented the story of an Egyptian family living in Denmark and true to any play with a family, they had their fair share of problems. What struck me wasn't the story itself, but how acutely aware I became of things like character development, mannerisms and directors choices (blocking, set, clothing, etc). I found myself focusing on the actions and the feelings more than the words, even though Fahiya was helping me along every so often by whispering important lines that I needed to know. It was my first experience seeing theatre in a language I wasn't fully fluent in, and it made me appreciate how theater can truly transcend the barriers of language and culture.

The second play was much more lighthearted and difficult to understand. Danish slang is not something I have ever been able to pick up on, but there was a musical element and the Danish actor playing the main character was also a well known Rapper in Denmark (Zaki Youssef). Him and the other 2 he was acting with were very chill guys. I spoke with them after the performance and they asked how I liked the show even though I didn't speak Danish and wished me a good stay here. I also took some pictures with them because Fahiya insisted that she tell them I was from Canada and needed a photo haha.

Danish actors/rappers

Sunday proved to be another beautiful day and I had a field trip with my Danish culture class to Frederiksberg Slot (Castle). We hoped on the bus (all 5 of them...the class essentially has every exchange student in it), and drove about an hour to the Castle. We got a tour and our guide was super animated and entertaining. There was some amazing rooms so ornate it just made you think "how much did this cost?" The Castle was a reconstruction (build in the 1800 I believe...don't quote me on that) because the original burnt down. The best part was definitely the gardens though. It is a public garden and on a such a beautiful sunny day it was nice to walk around it and enjoy the view. The Castle was one who could have spent 4/5 hours in...we spent about 2.5 and didn't even see it all, but we opted to see the gardens with the rest of our time before the buses left.

The "Great Hall"

Castle...yup, that's a lot of castle.

I love sunshine, I don't like school work haha. One more productive day tomorrow and then I'm off to Ireland Friday :) woop!

Hope everyone is well!

Jeg elsker du,

Meghan

An update: She is still alive

Hey all!

Sorry for the large hiatus on the blog front, its been a relatively uneventful couple weeks filled with school...yeah, I know, I go to school here? huh? haha. If anyone wants to help me write two 15 page papers let me know :). I suppose I should tell you about school as well, so here we go, ahem. I'm taking 3 classes; Shakespeare and England, Textile Production and Danish Culture.

My Shakespeare class is taught by a man who is very nice on a personal level, but quite an awful teacher. He's been teaching for years and I think he just has too much knowledge. His lectures go off in tangents and with only one class remaining, I'm left with a sense of what exactly was I supposed to take from this course and how I'm I going to write a paper on it?! I know I'll figure it out, but for now research is the fuel for figuring that question out.

Textile Production is an anthropology/history class I took for fun (it's a long and insanely boring story that involved a change in the English Department curriculum). It is really enjoyable, we've gotten to do some really cool stuff like use sheep wool and spindles to try and make yarn, which by the way, is a lot more difficult than you would ever imagine. I broke mine about 5 times before getting the hang of it and it still wasn't very even. It was really hilarious though there is this big guy, at least 6'2 and large, who was out spinning us all! That class is something I look forward too, most of the professors (about 5 in total and all women!) are actual archaeologist who have been (and still are) publishing works/books/journals etc. Plus, they are all really nice ladies willing to help all the time.

Danish culture is taught by several different teachers, some lectures are cool, others are very dry. It is quite interesting though, and reminds me of the level of nationalism that drives this country (see my older post on nationalism inspired by this class).

One exciting thing I did was go out to dinner at the Fiskebaren, which is a lovely fish restaurant...and expensive too. My friend Elena and I stuck out like sore thumbs, which was clear when the greeter said "...you have reservations...?" "yes, under Meghan". Definitely hindered the experience a bit. Another thing I didn't appreciate was that the waitress didn't check up on us once while we were waiting for our food, which seemed quite odd. I understand that we looked like students, but we were still paying customers. Nonetheless the food was amazing. We shared mussels in a apple cider sauce, and then I had the cod which came with a great puree and leek. It was worth every penny and definitely my first GREAT meal in Denmark, though I suppose you get what you pay for. Pictures below.

The cod :)

Mussels...we ate some before I snapped this haha.

So, there you have it, the update. Look forward to more posts soon, I'm off to Ireland next friday flying solo and am very excited! :)

Jeg elsker du,

Meghan