Ever since I bought 1000 Places to See Before You Die in high school, I’ve been enamoured with the idea of travel, soaking in the beauty of different sights, sounds, and tastes. I couldn’t understand why anyone would pass up any opportunity to explore all the world had to offer. But unfortunately, I’ve been told that my restless desire to go, go, go on adventures upon more adventures make me lose sight of all that’s in front of me. Things are never as great as you imagine it to be, they say. And now I am going to say, you’re right, Denmark isn’t as great as I would have imagined — it’s better.
When I told people where I was studying abroad, many seemed taken aback and unimpressed by my choice. You would think that someone who goes to school in the tundra of Ithaca, New York would want to escape to a sunny and warm paradise. Why Denmark? “Because it’s the happiest country in the world,” I would reply. “And I want to know why.”
After 25 hours of traveling from Taipei to Bangkok to Doha and losing two suitcases along the way, I finally arrived to the much anticipated Paris of the North — Copenhagen, Denmark (January 16, 2011). I felt my stomach twist itself into knots, when I looked outside the window and saw the picturesque doll houses next to the sea, the flat green land, and the old castles. I couldn’t believe I was finally here. I had been so excited, yet at that moment, I felt a flood of worry come over me. What if it’s not as amazing as I imagined it to be? What if the Danes aren’t as happy as the books and research say they are?
My anxieties left me as soon as I entered the arrival terminal, where I was greeted by smiling DIS (Danish Institute for Study Abroad) representatives. They directed me to the bus that would take me to my housing for the semester, which was a folkehøjskole located in Helsingør (Elsinore). “Where are you going?” the Danish bus driver asked me, as he placed my one small carry-on bag into the bus.
“Uh…it’s a folk…folkenhi…” I stammered with embarrassment. ”It’s in Hel…singer…or Elsinore.” I didn’t want to be that American, even though I knew that most people in Denmark also speak English along with Danish. I wasn’t sure whether or not they would be offended if horribly butchered the words. Later in the week, during DIS orientation, it was suggested to pretend you have potatoes in your mouth when speaking Danish. But to my surprise, the bus driver simply laughed and nodded.
And an hour later, I was walking toward the Den Internationale Folkehøjskole with 15 other wide-eyed DIS students. It was only 5:00 PM (or 17:00), but it was already dark outside (although, I must add, not as cold as Ithaca). After all, there are only a few hours of sunlight in the winter months of Scandinavia, and I’m learning that fairly quickly.
“Welcome to Den Internationale!” a man with a French accent said, as he walked toward us. “My name is Pierre, and I will be your DIS contact this semester. Please get your keys, put down your bags, and come join us for dinner!”
When I signed up for the housing options through DIS, I had no idea what a folkehøjskole was and my fellow DIS students were in the dark with me. We signed up for the purpose cultural immersion, but we had no idea what a “folk high school” actually was. We were told pretty vague answers, and the all-knowing Google and Wikipedia didn’t seem to explain the concept very well either.
“It kind of reminds me of camp,” one DIS student commented.
“I heard that students come here as their ‘gap year’ before continuing their education?” I said, loosely referencing Wikipedia.
“I heard they attend classes here and don’t get graded!” another exclaimed. “They learn for the sake of learning.”
A few of us exchanged puzzled looks. In the United States, learning without a concrete goal seemed like such a foreign, almost bizarre, concept. But over the next few days, we began to piece together all the vague ideas of what a “folk high school” is by talking to the other students and asking their motivation behind attending.
Many Danish students who are either unsure of what they want to study in university (or higher education) go to a folkehojskole to get a sense of what they like, whether it is in the humanities or the sciences. Since we’re housed in an international folkehøjskole, many students come here to improve their English or learn more about European and American history. One night, during dinner, we learned that the Den Internationale Folkehøjskole was started after World War II to improve and build international relations among young, educated people.
Currently, there are about 70 students from 30 different countries, and despite different cultural backgrounds and ideologies, they have formed what one could easily mistake as a big family. Although they often like to joke about the American foreign policy, the international students enthusiastically welcomed us. And even though we’ve only been there for five days, we’re already starting to call it home.
After dinner, we all sit around the fireplace to unwind from a long day in Copenhagen or classes. It’s comfortable, relaxing, and warm. Even though we were strangers just five days ago, we have formed a bond around what the Danes would fondly refer to as “hygge.”
Bold words:
DIS (Danish Institute for Study Abroad): the program for American students that facilitates the study abroad experience in Denmark. It operates as its own school in Copenhagen but also has a partnership with the University of Copenhagen.
folkehojskole: ”folk high school”
hygge: literally translated into “coziness.” The Danes view their homes as a haven because it provides the warmth and comfort of close friends and family. This is a huge part of Danish culture, and it directly applies to their calm and peaceful mindset to everything in life.
You can read about more of Sandie’s adventures in Denmark on her blog:
http://blogs.cornell.edu/