The Foreigners

Morning Dansk classes have begun. As I write this it's now five minutes before half to three (that's the danish way of saying 2:25). This isn't an easy language, and they say the best way to learn is speak with a 'potato in your mouth'. Interesting, tasty concept. The international crew was divided into small groups. Ours is 14: there's the spanish with their crazy meal times, la italiani regazzi who are just plain crazy, a homeless polish guy (serious - accommodation here is tight), a german who is oh-so german despite his protestations, three americans who take the stereotype of being american just that little step further, and Stampy (Laura), Beverly and myself, the 3 Australians. And evidently we can't speak english, according to the Europeans - too much slang. A french girl swanned in today, and melted us all with her accent. Even Stampy admits to having a bit of a crush. And who could blame her?Bikes have been a godsend, although Stampy and I did spend more than a couple of hours in a shop fixing ours. My seat was high-pitched-talkingly high and as I think I have mentioned, stopping required a well timed and well aimed aerial dismount. As I began to think I may never sit down again by choice, we found a bike service shop. Very unwilling to wait 2 weeks, and with a little too much Aussia bravado, we figured they wouldn't be too hard to fix. It turned out the seat pole was so rusted that it had fused to the bike; I took the seat off a smacked the pole with a hammer. I turned it upside down and smashed it on the concrete. The guy in the shop felt sorry for us and lent us his tools, telling us we were far more fun to help that the Danish guy who'd been yelling at him. A can of wd-40 later, my seat is at a far more comfortable height. The danish lad earned his six-pack of Tuborg. Nights out in Copenhagen have thus far been a very outdoor experience. The weather has been amazing; so much so that the Danes can only talk about the unseasonal weather, global warming and the world going topsy-turvy. I have regreted not bringing a singlet, not to mention my broken thong, but it has been a good excuse to do a bit of topless sunbathing. Hey, if the Danish girls can do it, surely I can join them? Apart from this very compelling reason to pray daily for the sun to continue, it means we can go to the local Netto supermarket and buy cheap beer (ie 1/2 litre of carlsberg for $2-3) and drink in front of the bars serving the same stuff for 3-4x that. And we have such a large crowd of int'l students that it feels like the party is wherever we all are. Invariably nights out a followed by that awesome euro specialty, the kebab. You feel that if they are going to stay open til 3, 4, 5am then you should reward them with your patronage. And besides, that's the time the spaniards normally have their dinner. I am feeling decidedly spanish at the moment actually; the afternoon siesta has been rewarding. The sun wakes up at about 4.30am and often wakes me up with it, given that my curtains make celophane look opaque. Then again, not sure this will cause me too much trouble in winter. Ciao!