The Land of Chocolate, Cheese, Mountains, and Three Languages I Don’t Speak

The true travelling has begun. After a month in Copenhagen – that much time in a beautiful, historic European city is enough to make me stir-crazy – I took a weekend to go to Interlaken, Switzerland, and go canyoning, but I’ll get to that in a moment.

My new favorite thing which I think America should adopt is the widespread use of the intercity night train. It’s pretty cool to go to sleep somewhere rainy and flat and wake up to sunshine and mountains.

I didn’t realize how much I miss mountains until I saw them again. Interlaken and everything surrounding it is absolutely gorgeous (or “gorges” if I wanted to go with a canyon joke, but that’s the kind of thing my dad would say so I’ll refrain). Here’s the link to my photo album to see all 93 pictures I took before my batteries died (I forgot to charge the replacements before leaving, or else I would have even more): http://www.flickr.com/photos/11691186@N05/sets/72157602132155608/

Switzerland is culturally divided into three parts: German, French, and Italian. Everything in stores is printed in at least two of those languages, often all three. Just like in Denmark, Swiss people all seem to speak English as well, making me again feel inadequate for being unable to speak four languages. Interlaken is in the German area near Jungfrau, “The Top of Europe.” My time there was limited, so immediately after checking into the hostel I asked the girl (warning: tangent ahead. Males have the term “guy” to fill the age gap between “boy” and “man” … what’s the term for women? I feel like if I said “woman” the implication would be that she was older than she was, but “girl” implies she was younger than she was. Anyway, after that tangent, I’ll just say that I’d guess she’s 21-22 and if anybody has a good term to use as the female equivalent of “guy,” I’d like to hear it) at the front desk for a good hike from the hostel. She pointed straight up what looked less like a mountain than a cliff with some trees on it and said, “there’s a restaurant on top of that mountain. The funicular that goes up there isn’t running, but there’s a trail you can take. It’s kind of steep, but the views are nice.” First, “steep” doesn’t do it justice. Second, neither does “nice.”

Day two is when I went canyoning. Canyoning (aka canyoneering), for those who don’t know, involves rappelling, jumping, swimming, and hiking down a river cut into bedrock (not the Flintstones’ city). For someone like me, afraid of both heights and water, it’s a great way to spend a Saturday. Given the water and rocks, I didn’t bring my camera. So, I apologize, this picture isn’t one I took myself. It is, however, from the canyon I descended, so I think I have the right to post it anyway. I considered photoshopping my face into it, but I don’t think I could pose with the proper, “holy shit, I’m going to die” expression that’s required.

A quick summary: Step one is rappelling 50 meters from a one-lane winding mountain road straight down into a river. From there, jump down into a pool where we received the warning, “tuck your legs. It’s pretty shallow, so if you don’t land on your back you’ll break something and helicopters can’t get to this part of the mountain.” I would have assumed the guides were screwing with our heads (after all, I’d certainly enjoy doing that), except that halfway down one of the girls hurt her ankle and the guides took turns carrying her the rest of the way. All told, it took about three to three and a half hours to descend – that’s all time in 34 degree water. Having a superb sense for irony, I made it safely down the entire river only to promptly slip and fall three steps onto dry land.

After getting back to Interlaken, I had a few more hours of daylight, so I took a ferry across Thunersee (Lake Thun). It was uneventful, but yielded more good pictures, so I’ll direct you back to my photo album instead of writing more on the subject.

One thing for UW people: I didn’t stay here, but the most famous hostel in Interlaken is Balmer’s. So I can take a ten hour flight and fourteen hour train ride, but I can’t get away from Balmer.

One great thing about souvenir shopping in a country famous for food: you can do your gift shopping in the grocery store.

I left Interlaken a bit early on my last day there (no hikes I could complete in the hours I had left) and spent the afternoon in Basel, where I had to change trains to get home. This is where I really wish I had my replacement camera batteries. Instead, I just stole a couple of pictures from the internet. The thing that amazes me about Europe is that even cities which are considered nondescript and are famous for chemical manufacturing more than anything else still have dozens of beautiful, historic buildings. I’ll bet that makes New Jersey jealous.

Ah, New Jersey. I’ve alluded in previous posts to people saying stupid things (i.e. “Los Angeles”), but I’ve had a few more encounters, so I think I’ll introduce a new recurring feature to my posts, titled “Are you trying to be funny, or are you really that stupid?” or “Oh, Jesus, I can’t believe you’re representing my country." Today’s featured subjects are four New Jerseyans I met while canyoning. I’ll attempt to recreate the conversations as accurately as possible. Really, I don’t think they need any enhancement.

The first one was between one New Jerseyan (NJ1) and one of the guides (G). We had to suit up in a cow pasture. This isn’t unusual, since almost everything in this part of Switzerland is either a pasture or a mountain that’s too steep to walk on.

NJ1: Oh my God, what did I just step in?

G: Looks like cow shit.

NJ1: Is that what that is?

G: We’re in a pasture. What did you think it was?

NJ1: A mushroom.

G: Um, no. Not quite.

NJ1: I can’t believe cows just poop anywhere. That’s so gross.

G: So, earlier, when I said to be careful not to step on landmines, what did you think I meant?

NJ1: Landmines.

The second conversation was between another New Jerseyan (NJ2) and the same guide.

NJ2: You know what’s weird? I haven’t seen any Swiss cheese since I got to Switzerland.

G: Have you seen any cheese since you got here?

NJ2: Yeah.

G: That’s Swiss cheese. All they have here is Swiss cheese.

NJ2: No, it didn’t have the holes in it.

Following the conversation the New Jerseyans had about how hard it was to find a McDonald’s in Florence, I’m afraid to ask what that guide thinks of Americans. I kind of wanted to pull him aside and say, “Just so you know, the rest of America looks down on New Jersey, too.”

History, Culture, and Other Things to Which I am Unaccustomed (Part 1)

I’ll admit I’ve made a few remarks in here that may be seen as taking jabs at America and Americans. This is, however, my right as an American. Honestly, though, having spent over three weeks now talking to people from all over the world and getting their view on things, I’d like to say something about America, how I think people see us, and what I wish they’d see.

First, I realize America has made several mistakes. Yes, the whole world told us not to go into Iraq and we did it anyway, then it turned into what John Stewart called an “exploding clusterfuck.” And this probably could have been avoided if the media (or just people in general) had been a bit more critical and actually fulfilled their role in the buildup to the war. I’m not denying a lot of mistakes were made. But one thing that I wish we got more credit for is this: from the beginning, we were really trying to do the right thing and honestly thought we’d make Iraq (and the whole Middle East) a better place.And as much as America blunders around the world and causes fiasco after fiasco, I don’t think it is ever fair to say that we don’t care about the rest of the world. We don’t understand that other cultures view things differently than we do; that democracy may not work everywhere simply because not every culture thinks democracy is important, or that pushing trade might cause a backlash because other cultures see amassing wealth and material possessions as sinful. So go ahead and say we don’t understand the world – let’s face it, we don’t – but please never say Americans are selfish or uncaring, because nothing could be further from the truth. For all our faults, I’m proud to come from a country whose citizens always try to do right by the world.

And now, without transition, I’ll begin writing about the subject I named in the title.

Kronborg Castle – better known in English as Elsinore – is about 45 minutes away from Copenhagen by train, so when there was some nice weather I jumped on a train and began praying someone would give me an opportunity to shout “get thee to a nunnery!” or “stand and unfold yourself!” before the day was over. Sadly, I never got to work either of those into casual conversation (“I’m trying to get to the train station, but I’m doubled over and lying on the sidewalk. What should I do?” “Well, I’d recommend you stand and unfold yourself, then walk east four blocks…”). I still think castles are really cool. I wish we had them in the Seattle area. The sheer amount of history all around in Europe is mind-boggling to someone from the Northwest. Did anybody actually enjoy Washington State History when we had to take that class in high school? We just don’t have a lot of history and an embarrassing amount of what’s there involves stealing things from the natives.

Kronborg Castle also houses the Maritime Museum – entrance costs extra and is required in order to climb the telegraph tower. It’s a good thing they bundle those together, because otherwise I have the feeling nobody would ever go to the Maritime Museum. The views from the top are worth it, though. Just like from the towers in Copenhagen, you can see Sweden from Kronborg. I’m no expert on cannons, but I’ll bet, if they really wanted to, they could easily shoot Helsingborg.

Below Kronborg are the “Casemates.” “Casemates” is, allegedly, the English translation of Kasematterne, though I don’t think I’ve ever heard either word before. Of course, I suppose that doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. I’ll call them “underground rooms” instead. According to legend, Holger Danske – a warrior and king (back in the days when leaders and their families participated in the wars they started) who defended Denmark against Charlemagne – never died and is sleeping in the Casemates until Denmark is again threatened, at which point he will awaken and lead the Danish once again. Odd that he'd be sleeping here, considering Kronborg Castle wasn’t built until 600 years after Charlemagne’s campaign against the Danish. Also, if Holger Danske didn’t wake up when the Germans took over Denmark during World War II, I wonder just how serious a threat it will take for him to wake up.

While I’m on the subject of royalty (I’m not doing well with logical transitions during this post, am I?), I’ve actually had my opinion changed on the value of royal families. I was talking to a local about politics – Danish love talking politics, especially, it seems, with Americans – and I said something to the effect of: while I understand the desire to preserve national history and identity and I understand a Royal Family to be part of that identity, I don’t like the idea of a government supporting an opulent lifestyle for one fortunate family. His response, however, turned me around. Isn’t it the job of elected officials to govern? And how much time does the US President (not just this one, but all of them) waste on ceremonial dinners, photo ops, reading to children…? Having a royal family separates out the governing and the ceremony into two separate roles, allowing the elected officials focus on what their job is supposed to be, not to mention providing more competent and culturally sensitive people to deal with foreign dignitaries (i.e. understanding that Germans have very well-defined personal space and don't like spontaneous backrubs). Wow, did I ever get my egalitarian ass kicked in that debate.

Sames and Differents

I’ve been here in Copenhagen for two-and-a-half weeks now. I have a local cell phone. I’ve climbed two church spires to get nice views of the city. I’ve stolen things while drunk (at the time, I thought I really needed that lantern). In short, I’ve fully assimilated as a local and am now thoroughly qualified to speak on locals, tourists, and the cultural differences between here and home.

Before coming here, the only encounter I’d had with anything that could be called “Danish” involved pastries. Based on that, I had expected Danes to be doughy and flaky, but sweet. They are sweet – just about the nicest people I’ve ever met, besides Scottish – but the doughy and flaky things proved way off. For one thing, there are no fat people here. Well, there are, but they’re tourists (USA! USA! USA!). I’ve never seen so many bicycles in one city before. And yesterday – I’m actually serious about this – I saw three people using unicycles for transportation. And as for flaky, let me just say: all the Danes I’ve met speak at least 2 languages. On the other hand, guess the nationality of the person who thought Los Angeles was the capital of the United States… I’ll give you a hint: she’ll (disturbingly) be able to vote for our next president.

The Danes aren’t entirely superior, though. They smoke. A lot. A whole fuckin’ lot. They drink a lot, too, though the presence of the aforementioned lantern in my room prevents me from criticizing too harshly.

Ever since I got my cell phone, I’ve felt entitled to look down on other tourists. Actually, I only look down on the ones who walk right in front of me while I’m obviously trying to take pictures. Strangely, tourists in Seattle never bother me. Once I get into another country, though, the bile starts spewing forth. I guess it’s because I know they, on some level, represent me (both as “Americans” and as “Jackasses With Cameras”). Honestly, though, if you were this guy:

Wouldn’t you hate these people?
And my concern is that this poor guard’s dislike of the plaid-wearers will translate into a dislike of me.

Now that I’ve got that off my chest, I’d just like to list (with photographic accompaniment) a few things I’ve noticed that are different here than home.

On the surface, it looks like this might be America with the Burger King and 7-11.
But look closer: How much is their “nice price meal?”
That works out to US$7.25. And for everyone who complains about the price of Starbucks: there’s only one Starbucks in Copenhagen (it’s in the airport). I didn’t buy anything, but I did look at the prices. A caramel macchiato here is $7.50. I don’t think I’ll ever complain about coffee prices again once I get home. While I’m on that subject, I’ll never complain about Washington’s 8% sales tax, either. Here? 25%.

Back to fast food: the price isn’t the only difference.
Something else we don’t have in the States: McExpress. Thank God. I’ve always said the problem with McDonald’s is that they’re too slow.

There have been fairly widespread demonstrations across the city because of a recent forced closure of a youth center (would that ever spark weeks of riots in the US?), so the police have been out in full force. I came across a group of them presumably on break. I know resting police officers in the US enjoy snacking on donuts – I know this to be true because all stereotypes I cling to are accurate – so imagine my surprise when I saw:
Danish police don’t eat donuts; they eat ice cream bars. Sorry the photo doesn't demonstrate it well - I don't know if it's legal to photograph police here, so I was trying to be subtle about it - but all five of them had ice cream bars.

And, being me, I need to go out on a sophomoric note which references back to my first post. And let me assure both of the people reading this that this will be my last breast-related humor (unless something else truly hilarious comes up). I thought the topless Little Mermaid was the funny, but I was wrong. May I present to you all: the official Funniest Statue in Denmark:
On that note, I’ll leave. I’ll be writing something else again soon, though. I’ve actually be doing a lot (lots of stuff to write about, very little time to write), so I’ll make my next post – tentatively titled “Culture, History, and, You Know, Whatever” – in the next few days.