Whatever You like

I think Im finally adjusted to the time zone here, just in time for my first weekend odyssey.  The end of last week went quickly, having introductory classes - which are a breeze because you don't do any work - and I was happily meeting new classmates.  Unfortunately I still do not have a cell phone because the phone registration table at orientation was out of them; A phone is being mailed to me but could have really been in use this weekend.

OK, so friday night was interesting.  We had a DIS (Danish Institute for Study Abroad) welcome party at the Luux nightclub.  Since I live far away from some of my friends, we decided to meet there.  After cooking dinner and starting to get my drink on, I take the bus to the club.  Now this is a closed party -only for DIS students- from 8 to 11.  I personally found that funny because absolutely no one would go clubbing before midnight.  Anyway, I'm having a good time.    Towards the end of the night, my friends start to go home, and I stay because I am having a good time.  I am talking to a kid in one of my classes about music - specifically Animal Collective, who are playing here in march.

I give back my jacket ticket. Now those of you who know me well know I am fond of a jean jacket, and usually wear a sweatshirt under it.  Well there is a rushed line to get jackets back, where you hand in your ticket on one side, move down the line, and then get handed your jacket.  Unfortunately I was only given back my sweatshirt, and then quickly ushered out of the club by the mob.  No jean jacket.

So I get on the bus and pay the fare, freezing cold.  The bus is so nice and warm I end up falling asleep, only to wake up past my stop. Its ok, I tell myself, I heard the buses run all night, so I will ride it longer and wait for it to come back into the city.  At 6 am the driver kicks me out of the bus - apparently the line does not run all night.  At this point I am freezing, barely dressed and wet at a bus station in the outskirts of Copenhagen. 

I catch a cab home (I could not wait two hours outside in what I was wearing), talking to this really nice turkish man who has seven children and spoke maybe 9 words of english.  770 kroner later (around 150 dollars), Im home.  I hope you understand the next day I stayed home and watched movies all day.  

Today I took a long walk through Norrebro, my neighborhood here in copenhagen. After having a falafel and fries with mayonnaise (surprisingly good), I explored the famous Copenhagen Assistens Cemetery. Some of Denmarks most famous residents are buried there, including Niels Bohr, who worked in quantum mechanics, earned the nobel prize in physics in 1922, and later worked on the manhattan project before campaigning against the use of nuclear weapons.

Other notables include Soren Kierkegaard, who was very critical of the formality of the danish church and considered a leading philosopher, existentialist, and postmodernist thinker of his time.  H.C. Anderson is also buried there, and the writer's most famous works include The Canterbury Tales, the Ugly Duckling, the Little Mermaid, and Thumbelina.  

Today, however, I was fascinated by the discovery of a new grave/person/poet.  Michael Strunge's resting place was adorned with a bottle of whiskey, multiple candles, and enough Carlsberg beer cans and bottles to put Homer Simpson under the table.  I went home and looked him up.  A post-punk poet who wrote romantic and bleak Cold War poems, he killed himself in 1986 at the age of 28 by diving out of his fourth floor window.  I have been looking for some of his poetry online, but am yet to find any in english. Ill post some if I find any.

And lets hope next weekend is less adventurous.