Where the BUTT am I?

Good question. On the first of this year I decided I loved cheese and bread more than I hated my life, so I jetted off to Copenhagen. No, but really, I do love cheese and bread, although not enough to study in Paris.

I'm currently parked at a desk inside my cozy, but cold little room in Copenhagen, Denmark. I decided I wanted to study abroad after my parents told me it was their biggest regret of college. I figured if there was one regret I could guarantee avoiding, I wanted to avoid it.

I flew out here bright and early January 1st. Yep, I really just kicked off 2020 by blasting off to another continent. Although I was anxious going in—having never lived on my own or traveled outside the US (minus my one family trip to Canada, ha)—almost as soon as I arrived those worries dissipated.

I asked in a group chat I had started for my study abroad program if anyone wanted to explore before our program dinner the night after I arrived. One girl replied that she would love to. Although, I soon realized she thought I was proposing to do that that day. However, by the time I realized she had misunderstood what I said, I thought why the heck not. Great decision on my part. Enter Veronica Roy (also, does that not sound like a character straight out of a movie). Despite the fact that we somehow accidentally walked 38 minutes to and from a target imposter store, my legs were nowhere near as tired as my face. I smiled so much throughout our entire conversation, realizing how similar we were already.

Right, I'm not going to get too caught up in this romanticized friendship—although not going to lie, it's a pretty good one—at least for this first week and counting. The next day was our program dinner, the day originally intended for exploring. Turns out I didn't have time to explore anything other than the grocery store. Now enter James Marsh. Upon meeting James, one may think he is a frat star. While this may be true (I have yet to figure out), this kid is oh so much more. He's one of those guys that seems a bit oblivious and maybe even dumb sometimes, but in fact, is deceivingly smart and meticulous. Not to mention, he can keep up some good banter.

As one might suspect, after us three figured out we lived on the same floor we formed a trifecta of sorts (name of which has not been determined). Needless to say, I'm so glad they live on my floor—and not just because they prevent me from getting lost everyday. It's been a long time since I was a part of a solidified group—big or small—where I felt so at ease. They're what I like to call "down bitches." They're down to go running in the rain at 6am, they're also down to stay out clubbing until 6am. They're down to make pizza even though none of us barely know how to cook, but they're also down to eat yogurt for dinner. They mold to any group and are so easy to be around. Convenient as they are, I would choose to be their friend (and hopefully, vice versa)—and that's saying a lot.

Anyway, now to breakaway from this anecdote on the beautiful friendships that have entered my life. Let's talk my first impressions of Copenhagen. It's extremely dark most of the day. The sun rises close to nine and sets close to four—and to say it rises is an overstatement. Most days are so cloudy you don't see the sun, just a lighter shade of gray. While this sounds dreary and terrible, I think I am so enamored by the people I've met and the new environment I'm in that I don't mind it—at least not yet. I've also noticed it is extremely quiet here. We are always the only people talking which often invites some distasteful looks, particularly in the jam-packed metro. However, it's not enough to deter the constant stream of roasts and banter exchanged amongst us. Another observation is that there are so many children here. I know that sounds so weird, but the fact that I've even noticed this should say something. Everywhere you look there are families with their children, none of whom are ever over the age of eight.

Other observations. Not only is the architecture beautiful, it's sustainable. Talk about sexy. The first weekend we went and toured around the architecture center and I was blown away at how beautiful and resourceful all the pieces were. Tables made out of recycled plastic looked like polished marble. Slick wooden stools served as a place to store your phone during meals and social gatherings. This, in conjunction with the book I'm currently reading about the architecture and aesthetics of joy has really sparked my interest for design and architecture in physical and digital spaces (cough cough, hence the start of this blog).

The last thing I will add before I get too lost in the sauce is how different the education system here is. While I'm only enrolled in my pre-semester intensive Danish language class right now, my other classes are soon to follow—and to my knowledge, they follow a similar system. For one, the final is 100% of your grade IN EVERY CLASS. While yes, the thought of having one assessment represent my work for five months does cause me to have a slight aneurism, it also takes a lot of stress off throughout the normal year. And not only that, what I've realized is that it actually inspires real learning, not just memorization. When Veronica, James, and I do our homework at night, we aren't rushing to finish the online exercises because at the end of the day they don't mean anything—what means something is whether or not we can say "Where is the bathroom, I'm going to pee my pants" by the end. We actually sit and practice for the sake of knowing the material beyond a quiz the next morning.

Alright, I'm wrapping up here before seven days becomes a picturesque novella. Can't say I'll be the best at sticking with a blog like this, but I figured it would be a fun way to document the amazing experiences that are about to ensue. Oh, and expect some meatloaf posts as well—do not fret, your girl has no shortage of gyms here.

Tak for reading! (Don't worry 'for reading' is soon to be in Danish, too—we're getting there.)