Day 14. Copenhagen, Denmark.
From the hours leading up to my departure to the first several days in Denmark, I endured the greatest emotional rollercoaster of my life. One moment I’d be filled with joy or overtaken by awe, and the next I’d feel lonely or sick to my core. I anticipated this adventure to be both the greatest and most difficult time of my life, but I didn’t realize it would be this intense. Every, single, moment is new and packed with substance.
After dancing and smiling throughout the night before I left, I woke up to a completely different state of mind. Rarely had I ever felt so physically impacted by something that had yet to happen. The mix of gratitude, anticipation, and anxiety left me frozen in a haze. My body simply could not process what was happening. In that moment I was aware that in the long-term this would mark the greatest period of growth of my life, but I was still unable to escape short-term worries of, “what if..” What if I didn’t prepare enough? What if I don’t take full advantage of this opportunity? But after hugging my parents goodbye and getting into the cab for JFK, I regained a sense of clarity. Finally, after months of logistical preparation and a year of dreaming, I can stop thinking about this journey and start experiencing it.
These ups-and-downs continued over the next few days. After the 10 hour trip I was gitty as I headed to the hostel in the central most part of Copenhagen. I even managed to stay this way after putting my bags down in a small room with 4 bunk-beds and a Londoner who was accidentally sleeping in my bed—you could say I was excited to start exploring. But as I headed outside to see people and bikes swarming by me every which way, I was overwhelmed by the realization that I knew nothing about this city and no one it.
Prior to coming here I had spent significant periods of time trying to arrange visits and meetings with Danish educational organizations, but close to no time investigating what to do otherwise. My first arrangements weren’t for 48 hours. So after finding some wifi and googling “cool places to see in Copenhagen,” I began walking. As I slowly moved out of the city center, I shifted from overwhelm to awe. The city seemed so vibrant, clean, and functional. I walked over canals lined with brightly colored historic townhouses and bars, people watched in a bustling street food market, and stumbled upon an autonomous intentional commune that was built by a group of hippies in 1971 after they took over an abandoned military base. It was a fantastic day of wandering.
After a surprisingly good night of sleep, I woke up promptly at 7am with no alarm and loads of energy. I began the day at a small gem with specialty coffees and shelves holding books ranging from photography to psychology of the self. Perfect. I spent the next several hours finishing my research methodology and finding new organizations to reach out to. I then headed to another coffee shop an hour’s walk away where I continued to work and had my first traditional Danish open-rye sandwich. It was so bad that I nearly threw up, but my pride and hunger powered me through it. This isn’t a general comment on Danish food—which I’ve enjoyed—but this particular meal was intolerable.
Later that night, two Russians moved into a bunk-bed no more than three feet from my own. When deciding where to stay, I thought that a hostel would be a great place to meet other interesting travelers—but this would be far from the case. These guys would go on to be obnoxiously loud throughout the night and were representative of a larger culture at the hostel. Of course, I understood that cheap hostels in major cities were targets for temporary party stays, but unfortunately this was at the cost of any conversations of substance. My journal noted, “I know these sorts of places are hit or miss, but I guess I can’t help but feel simultaneously lonely and overwhelmed by all the seemingly disinteresting people.”
The next morning I woke up and felt completely out of sorts—I was disoriented and exhausted. Such a drastic change in lifestyle was catching up with me. But then I caught myself feeling bad for myself, which was funny given the greater context of this exploration. It was important however that I was present enough to notice that sensation—something I believe my meditation practice has taught me. I noted, “I could not be more grateful for the incredible situation I’m in, but still, no matter my gratitude, this is no doubt hard. I never expected this to be easy, but the disciplined, curious, and independent part of me thought I’d cope just fine—which I will!—but again, it’s just hard right now.” By the end of the journal session and a Nicaraguan brew, I already felt better—expression helped me change the relationship with my distress.
The following hours would go on to mark an incredible day of adventuring. I decided to explore the city by joining Copenhagen’s extensive bike culture (seriously, two-thirds of locals choose to bike to work). I went back to the autonomous Freetown Christiania, hung out with some cool crowds, and witnessed a police raid of the commune’s famous “Green Light District.” Most dealers escaped as they have a warning system and set up shop on collapsable bags—and sure enough minutes after the police left, it was back to business as usual. I then biked through beautiful parks, cemeteries, and hipster pockets filled with inviting cafés. Slowly but surely I was beginning to feel more comfortable as I got a sense of the various personalities of the city.
That afternoon I also received a development that would change the course of this trip for me. Upon arriving in Copenhagen I asked a friend who previously studied abroad here if he’d reach out to his host family for me. While I was primarily just looking for a local to get coffee or a meal with, there was a small part of me that was hoping he might have an extra bed—so I subtly hinted that I was growing tired of the hostel. Olé replied to me that he did not have space because of renovations in his home, but mentioned that he’d reach out to his neighbor who had a spare room. Several hours later I received word that the neighbor would be happy to host me. I packed up my bags, left the hostel two days early, and headed to the quaint town of Emdrup, 45 minutes North of the city center.
Olé was kind enough to pick me up at the train station and introduce me to my host. As we entered the simplistic but perfectly functional home, a wise looking man wearing spectacles and a short-sleeve dress shirt greeted us. I could tell that the two men were good friends by their witty back-and-forths with each other. After a few minutes Olé said goodnight and Per and I sat down and started chatting. He listened intently as I told him about my project and devout passion for education. It turned out that he was the legal advisor of the National Agency for Education and Quality. Let that soak in for a minute. Without knowing anything about each other prior to meeting, I happened to be hosted by a senior member of the Ministry of Education. This occurred at a time when I was desperately looking for a breakthrough. If that isn’t fate, I don’t know what is.
Over the past week and a half I’ve grown close to Per. This kind, smart, humble, and sarcastic man has made me feel at home during a time where I was particularly susceptible to feeling lost. Not only have I gotten to visit various schools and meet with some of the smartest actors in this realm, but I’ve also gotten to come home to substance packed discussions about education, culture, politics, and much more. Per likes to joke about how the ministry is holding me hostage in his basement so I can’t escape these horrid conversations. But seriously, there is rarely a moment where I am not learning. I’m busier than I’ve have been, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. Work and play are one in the same because every experience is filled with so much meaning.
Thus far I’ve had countless formal and informal meetings with students, teachers, principals, ministry officials, and founders at some of the most innovative educational organizations in the world. I’ve observed 18 class sessions in three schools where students learned about finance, law, memes, cultural understanding, dealing with stress, and conducted interdisciplinary projects spanning physics, chemistry, biology, and food literacy—just to name a few. This week I’m visiting three more schools before heading to Norway.
As was the case in the last reflection however, you’re going to have to wait until next time to hear the juicy details of these experiences and my concluding thoughts on the Danish educational system and culture. While I’m sure you’re dying of anticipation, adding a lengthy rant to this post on what gets me going most would simply be too much.
Peace & Love,
Joe