I am currently flying over Iowa on my way to LAX. I was in JFK for a bit of a layover, but now it's the real home stretch. The last 36 hours have been hectic, boring, and painful all at the same time. I do not recommend dragging 80 kilos of luggage around the Paris metro system, in case you were thinking about it. I booked this flight so long ago that I had no idea where I was going to be right now. It turned out that I would be back in Leiden, outside Amsterdam, where my two traveling buddies have been living this semester. I was very close to splurging and changing my flight to be out of Amsterdam, but I didn't. Stupid decision. J. Alexander was on my flight from Paris though. I was pretty close to asking him something ridiculous and out of the blue like, "Does my ass look fat in these jeans?" but I didn't.
I can't be upset at the moment though. I have WiFi on my flight, and I am Going to California for the first time in almost six months, and there is a 3x3 animal style, fries, and a coke waiting for me at the In-N-Out near LAX. I have definitely have missed my favorite California food more than anything else. Is that bad?
I was informed (warned?) by my abroad program that there are two kinds of culture shock that people tend to experience when they live in another country for an extended amount of time. There is the shock of arriving in a foreign land, not knowing the people and the customs, and having to figure everything out on your own. It's frustrating, annoying, and eye-opening. After a month of Denmark I was settled. I never ceased to be annoyed with little things like how everything is closed on Sunday, but I adapted for the most part with no problem.
The second kind of culture shock is supposed to hit when you go home. Apparently a lot of people have such a fantastic time during their program that going home just sucks. This happened to my cousin when he went to Barcelona a few years ago. I have a feeling that, at least at Berkeley, this has to do with the fact that we do real work. According to the interwebs, the University of Copenhagen and the University of Leiden are both highly-regarded institutions internationally. Yet, my Berkeley friends and I haven't done so little work since elementary school. Go figure. Next semester is scheduled to be one of my lightest since coming to college, but I know it will be a lot more intense than this past six months. Frankly, I'm tired of not using my brain.
I doubt I will be feeling this reverse culture shock. I was tired of how small Copenhagen is, how horrible the weather is in that part of the world, and how expensive it was. I loved the place, but 6 months was just enough time. I have been fortunate enough on this trip that I have seen a ton of Europe. Since arriving in late July, I have been to France three times, Sweden twice, England, Germany, Holland four times, Spain twice, Morocco, and Portugal. I have seen more in my life than most people ever will, and feel like I am somewhat immune to whatever culture shock is. I get way more annoyed being in Texas than most other places.
This adventure is far from being completely sunk in and understood. I have seen more in these months than I usually do, and it flew by like you wouldn't believe. Some of the best stories I have were made along the way, and I haven't even realized it completely. There will never be anything else quite like it for me, and I am happy to say that I lived life to the fullest while I have been traveling. I made some great friends with couches in different parts of the world, and can't wait to see them again in who-knows-when.
At the same time, I have never appreciated my friends at home so much. For that matter, I have never appreciated my country so much, but that is 95% Obama. My friend Ryan and I recently spent an entire lunch just talking about our mutual close friends. We wondered how they are, if all the gossip that has filtered over the Pond is true, and how they have changed. I miss Leah's laugh, Pablo's wisdom, and Ben's politics.
But, seriously, I miss food the most.
Showing posts with label europe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label europe. Show all posts
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Monday, December 29, 2008
Whirlwind Tour
My internet access over the last couple of weeks has left a lot to be desired. I have been traveling almost constantly since December 15. It took me 19 hours door to door from my apartment in Copenhagen to my friends' place just outside Amsterdam. I slept a bit on the train, and thankfully nothing was stolen.
Our flight from the Netherlands to Barcelona was at some ungodly hour I can´t even recall. We didn't sleep the night before, and took a train to Eindhoven at four in the morning. Discount airlines suck for a lot of reasons, but one of the main ones is their association with airports in the middle of nowhere.
For the first couple of nights in Barcelona we stayed with a friend of mine from high school. He was wrapping up his stay in Europe as well, and showed us as much as he could in 48 hours. I have to say, I had never really thought about going to Spain when I thought about traveling around Europe, but I loved it. I almost felt like I could live in Barcelona. It reminded me a good deal of Los Angeles because of the weather, the terrain, and the atmosphere. It was better in some ways, thanks to good public transit and Gaudi artwork sprinkled all over the city. No Mexican food though. Very tragic. I really fell in love with the place after only four days. I will be back.
Marrakech was next. I have never been somewhere like it. Hell, I haven't even read about somewhere like it. It was the most hectic place I have seen, heard, or smelled. All three senses work overtime in a place like Marrakech. At all hours, the streets are filled with people, motorized scooters, beggars, urchins, trash, animals, smoke, and loud noises. One only manages to take their eyes off the insanity in the middle of the street because of what is on the sides of almost every street. Hundreds of shops line the twisted and unmarked rues, from old women on dirty sheets to large well-lit stores. Many places sell the same sorts of things: leather goods, handmade wooden tchotchkes, scarves, spices, teapots, bootleg movies, exotic pets and everything in between. In the main square people rush to hand you monkeys or put cobras around your neck so they can demand payment thirty seconds later.
Good shopkeepers spot Westerners from a mile away, and start calling out to you in many languages. Monsieur! Est-ce que tu veux?, Hola Amigo!, Good price! Morocco was a French colony, so knowing some Francais goes a long way, but I got to practice my Spanish too.
Then comes the bartering. At first, Marrakech is so cheap that it almost doesn't cross your mind. They use the dirham, which is about 1/11th of a Euro. A tall glass of the best tasting orange juice I have ever had was 90 euro cents. We got ripped off because we paid 13 euro for a 20 minute cab for three plus luggage when we first arrived. You quickly learn that nearly every price in the city is not only negotiable, but that the first price you hear may be 500% of what you could ultimately pay with some skillful banter. There is a certain etiquette you have to figure out, but once you have it down buying things becomes quite fun. If you ask for the price of something in a shop or stall, it is generally assumed that you are genuinely interested in it. If you end up not buying the item, even after a large drop in the item's price, it is seen as rude. Then again, this could just be another negotiating tactic.
Needless to say, I did all my Christmas shopping in Marrakech. I thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the city as well. Excellent cheap food abounds, but it is a third world city. My friend got sick while we were there, and I think it was probably the water or something. We rode camels, checked out the sites, and wandered. I loved my few days, but it's unlikely that I will return anytime soon. When I do, I certainly won't stay in a hostel.
Madrid was next. We saw almost none of that city. We stayed with my friend's family and celebrated Christmas with them and their two beautiful kids. It was very nice to have some semblance of holiday tradition for my first Christmas spent out of the country. I am by no means religious, but I do enjoy this time of the year for spending time with family. We ate well, relaxed, and played with the children. I am sad to have not seen Madrid, especially the Prado. I'll be back though.
I am now in Lisbon, and have been for a couple of days. I love this city. I can't help but compare it to San Fransisco. Seven hills, on the bay with a Golden Gate-esque bridge, trolley cars, and pretty decent weather. Every sidewalk and street is paved with these little cobblestones, often in cool designs (slippery though). There are statues and arches and fountains everywhere. It reeks of the Enlightenment. Also, it's pretty cheap compared to the rest of Europe. There are museums everywhere it seems, and good views to be had from castles and skyscrapers alike. It doesn't hurt that we are staying the best hostel I have ever been in. It's called the Living Lounge, and feels like a hotel. Great design, very clean, big bathrooms, free DVDs to watch and internet to use. I'm almost tempted to leave a review of this place on the site we booked with.
Tomorrow we head to our last stop, jolie Paris. We will be there through New Years, and probably spend too much money. Our good friend who is about to begin a semester abroad in London is going to meet us there. There isn't a city I would rather be in to end this journey and this year. I will probably spend 6 hours or so in the Orsay alone. We'll be on the Champs-Elysées or the Sacré Coeur for the actual countdown, hopefully with a bottle of champagne in hand. I can't wait.
That's enough. I might throw up some pictures in a couple weeks when I get back to my real computer.
Our flight from the Netherlands to Barcelona was at some ungodly hour I can´t even recall. We didn't sleep the night before, and took a train to Eindhoven at four in the morning. Discount airlines suck for a lot of reasons, but one of the main ones is their association with airports in the middle of nowhere.
For the first couple of nights in Barcelona we stayed with a friend of mine from high school. He was wrapping up his stay in Europe as well, and showed us as much as he could in 48 hours. I have to say, I had never really thought about going to Spain when I thought about traveling around Europe, but I loved it. I almost felt like I could live in Barcelona. It reminded me a good deal of Los Angeles because of the weather, the terrain, and the atmosphere. It was better in some ways, thanks to good public transit and Gaudi artwork sprinkled all over the city. No Mexican food though. Very tragic. I really fell in love with the place after only four days. I will be back.
Marrakech was next. I have never been somewhere like it. Hell, I haven't even read about somewhere like it. It was the most hectic place I have seen, heard, or smelled. All three senses work overtime in a place like Marrakech. At all hours, the streets are filled with people, motorized scooters, beggars, urchins, trash, animals, smoke, and loud noises. One only manages to take their eyes off the insanity in the middle of the street because of what is on the sides of almost every street. Hundreds of shops line the twisted and unmarked rues, from old women on dirty sheets to large well-lit stores. Many places sell the same sorts of things: leather goods, handmade wooden tchotchkes, scarves, spices, teapots, bootleg movies, exotic pets and everything in between. In the main square people rush to hand you monkeys or put cobras around your neck so they can demand payment thirty seconds later.
Good shopkeepers spot Westerners from a mile away, and start calling out to you in many languages. Monsieur! Est-ce que tu veux?, Hola Amigo!, Good price! Morocco was a French colony, so knowing some Francais goes a long way, but I got to practice my Spanish too.
Then comes the bartering. At first, Marrakech is so cheap that it almost doesn't cross your mind. They use the dirham, which is about 1/11th of a Euro. A tall glass of the best tasting orange juice I have ever had was 90 euro cents. We got ripped off because we paid 13 euro for a 20 minute cab for three plus luggage when we first arrived. You quickly learn that nearly every price in the city is not only negotiable, but that the first price you hear may be 500% of what you could ultimately pay with some skillful banter. There is a certain etiquette you have to figure out, but once you have it down buying things becomes quite fun. If you ask for the price of something in a shop or stall, it is generally assumed that you are genuinely interested in it. If you end up not buying the item, even after a large drop in the item's price, it is seen as rude. Then again, this could just be another negotiating tactic.
Needless to say, I did all my Christmas shopping in Marrakech. I thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the city as well. Excellent cheap food abounds, but it is a third world city. My friend got sick while we were there, and I think it was probably the water or something. We rode camels, checked out the sites, and wandered. I loved my few days, but it's unlikely that I will return anytime soon. When I do, I certainly won't stay in a hostel.
Madrid was next. We saw almost none of that city. We stayed with my friend's family and celebrated Christmas with them and their two beautiful kids. It was very nice to have some semblance of holiday tradition for my first Christmas spent out of the country. I am by no means religious, but I do enjoy this time of the year for spending time with family. We ate well, relaxed, and played with the children. I am sad to have not seen Madrid, especially the Prado. I'll be back though.
I am now in Lisbon, and have been for a couple of days. I love this city. I can't help but compare it to San Fransisco. Seven hills, on the bay with a Golden Gate-esque bridge, trolley cars, and pretty decent weather. Every sidewalk and street is paved with these little cobblestones, often in cool designs (slippery though). There are statues and arches and fountains everywhere. It reeks of the Enlightenment. Also, it's pretty cheap compared to the rest of Europe. There are museums everywhere it seems, and good views to be had from castles and skyscrapers alike. It doesn't hurt that we are staying the best hostel I have ever been in. It's called the Living Lounge, and feels like a hotel. Great design, very clean, big bathrooms, free DVDs to watch and internet to use. I'm almost tempted to leave a review of this place on the site we booked with.
Tomorrow we head to our last stop, jolie Paris. We will be there through New Years, and probably spend too much money. Our good friend who is about to begin a semester abroad in London is going to meet us there. There isn't a city I would rather be in to end this journey and this year. I will probably spend 6 hours or so in the Orsay alone. We'll be on the Champs-Elysées or the Sacré Coeur for the actual countdown, hopefully with a bottle of champagne in hand. I can't wait.
That's enough. I might throw up some pictures in a couple weeks when I get back to my real computer.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Danish Life, I
My living situation here in Copenhagen is completely alien to what I am used to. I live in a very new apartment building that looks like a Lego creation (coincidence?). It is part of a cluster of new apartments that seem like they were dropped out of the sky into this huge empty field south of the city. When you look for my building on Google Maps satellite imagery, you can only see the foundation and some cranes. There is literally almost nothing but apartments in my immediate area, and then miles of what I can only describe as some kind of wetlands/nature preserve. But with cows. Denmark is a strange place.
Anyway, the only remotely interesting thing about my little neighborhood is that across the street is the largest mall in Scandinavia. The fastest way to walk home from the local metro stop involves cutting straight through this mall, weaving around way-too-stylish-for-their-age Danish teenyboppers. In most ways it is like any mall I have been to in America, but it's the little differences that grab you. For instance, there is a massive store called Bilka on the ground floor of the mall. The only thing I can compare it to is a Wal-Mart, but that should be taken with a grain of salt because I have never stepped foot in a Wal-Mart. They aren't allowed in Los Angeles. At Bilka you can buy anything. Groceries, plasma TVs, bicycles, candy, video games, movies, clothing, etc etc etc. If some kind of natural disaster goes down while I'm here, you know where to find me. The presence of this superstore means one thing: shopping carts. Picture a mall filled with shopping carts. It may not seem crazy to you, but trust me, it is.
The people of Denmark are pretty interesting, albeit a bit strange. One thing that struck me pretty early on was their street etiquette. I don't think I have ever seen a Dane jaywalk. I would love to follow a group of them around Manhattan sometime and see how they behave. When I first moved into my apartment, the behavior of my three Danish roommates really got to me. In an small apartment shared by 4 university students, everyone has their own drawer for utensils. Plates, cups, and cookware are not shared. In fact, when my roommates cook they generally take the food back into their rooms, close the door, and sometimes lock it (click!). Mind you, our apartment has a nice big couch, loveseat, two tables, and 4 chairs. Rarely has anyone taken advantage of any of this furniture except for me.
I was told (warned?) by my study abroad department that Danes are known to be "reserved." I guess that was a euphemism for shy. Don't get me wrong, the few Danish people I have gotten to know have been great friends to me, but getting to know them in the first place was a total chore. I can't say that I make any kind of special effort to meet international students when I am home, but then again none of my neighbors have ever been international students. Meeting the other internationals here in Copenhagen has been a breeze, which is probably to be expected considering how new everything is for everyone. However, I have been pretty disappointed because I was looking forward to making a bunch of Danish friends. It simply wasn't meant to be. That being said, I have made great German, Irish, Dutch, English, French, Australian, and even Canadian (!) friends since I've been here. Couchsurfing, here I come!
Denmark is a great place, and I think everyone should visit it if they are going to visit Europe. For a city the size of Copenhagen, the amount of culture is really impressive. The people are very polite, it is very clean, and they speak better english than most Americans. That being said, it has begun to feel small to me. I come from a city whose regional population is several times that of the whole of Denmark. The sun has been going down really early these days (we turn the lights on around 4), and the weather is getting less agreeable by the week. Luckily for me, I have a lot of travel planned in places south of here over the next month. Tomorrow, I head to Amsterdam for a week. In mid-December, myself and two of my good friends from home are going on a grand adventure through Spain, Morocco, Portugal, and France. I'm sure there will be a lot to talk about afterward, assuming I remain a free man throughout the trip.
I'm crossing my fingers.
Anyway, the only remotely interesting thing about my little neighborhood is that across the street is the largest mall in Scandinavia. The fastest way to walk home from the local metro stop involves cutting straight through this mall, weaving around way-too-stylish-for-their-age Danish teenyboppers. In most ways it is like any mall I have been to in America, but it's the little differences that grab you. For instance, there is a massive store called Bilka on the ground floor of the mall. The only thing I can compare it to is a Wal-Mart, but that should be taken with a grain of salt because I have never stepped foot in a Wal-Mart. They aren't allowed in Los Angeles. At Bilka you can buy anything. Groceries, plasma TVs, bicycles, candy, video games, movies, clothing, etc etc etc. If some kind of natural disaster goes down while I'm here, you know where to find me. The presence of this superstore means one thing: shopping carts. Picture a mall filled with shopping carts. It may not seem crazy to you, but trust me, it is.
The people of Denmark are pretty interesting, albeit a bit strange. One thing that struck me pretty early on was their street etiquette. I don't think I have ever seen a Dane jaywalk. I would love to follow a group of them around Manhattan sometime and see how they behave. When I first moved into my apartment, the behavior of my three Danish roommates really got to me. In an small apartment shared by 4 university students, everyone has their own drawer for utensils. Plates, cups, and cookware are not shared. In fact, when my roommates cook they generally take the food back into their rooms, close the door, and sometimes lock it (click!). Mind you, our apartment has a nice big couch, loveseat, two tables, and 4 chairs. Rarely has anyone taken advantage of any of this furniture except for me.
I was told (warned?) by my study abroad department that Danes are known to be "reserved." I guess that was a euphemism for shy. Don't get me wrong, the few Danish people I have gotten to know have been great friends to me, but getting to know them in the first place was a total chore. I can't say that I make any kind of special effort to meet international students when I am home, but then again none of my neighbors have ever been international students. Meeting the other internationals here in Copenhagen has been a breeze, which is probably to be expected considering how new everything is for everyone. However, I have been pretty disappointed because I was looking forward to making a bunch of Danish friends. It simply wasn't meant to be. That being said, I have made great German, Irish, Dutch, English, French, Australian, and even Canadian (!) friends since I've been here. Couchsurfing, here I come!
Denmark is a great place, and I think everyone should visit it if they are going to visit Europe. For a city the size of Copenhagen, the amount of culture is really impressive. The people are very polite, it is very clean, and they speak better english than most Americans. That being said, it has begun to feel small to me. I come from a city whose regional population is several times that of the whole of Denmark. The sun has been going down really early these days (we turn the lights on around 4), and the weather is getting less agreeable by the week. Luckily for me, I have a lot of travel planned in places south of here over the next month. Tomorrow, I head to Amsterdam for a week. In mid-December, myself and two of my good friends from home are going on a grand adventure through Spain, Morocco, Portugal, and France. I'm sure there will be a lot to talk about afterward, assuming I remain a free man throughout the trip.
I'm crossing my fingers.
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