Denmark: Smørsbørd, Heroin and liberated Christianites

Düsseldorf all topsy-turvy

Monday evening, after a whirlwind weekend in NYC with Ross's family, we arrive back to CPH (after a 3-hour field trip (inside our 6 hours lay-over) to Düsseldorf, where we ate lentil soup, weiners, dark beer, rye bead with butter & smoked bacon, strolled along the river Rhine, peeked in a few churches).  While trying to scope out a place to get a late dinner, I see a woman at a bar eating a large bowl of some soupy asian vegetable thing and say, hey, that looks good—let's go there.  As we try to enter we are stopped by a tall, drunk Dane who smells VERY strongly of peanut butter (and seems to still be working on the remain of some on the roof of his mouth).  It was a SEX bar and the Thai restaurant was on the floor above.  But he wants to know where we are from, and then descends into a tirade of HATING America, Americans, our food, our culture, our style, you name it.  For a peanut-buttery smelling post-coital Dane he was pretty venomous and harsh.  

We actually were able to engage with him a bit (taking his state into account), and talk about OUR feelings of anger about air raids, wars, imperialism, obesity, our political system and our work to build community, repair our world and engage in dialogue with others.  Twenty minutes later we ended the interaction in favor of finding dinner and he said, "I love you"; "It's not about you."  Having already been cornered by anti-Obama LaRouchian on the streets of Düsseldorf during our 3-hour field-trip, I was frustrated and did some emotional eating of a huge hamburger, onion rings, herb fries and beer.  It helped some.

I am reminded of the time I was living in Madrid, in 2003-4, when Spain's leader of parliament, Aznar,  announced that Spain's military would be supporting the US in Iraq and there were riots and anti-American protests for weeks.  Our world is so broken.  But biking feels pure, gentle on the earth, clears my head and makes me feel that I am dong my very small piece to learn as much as I can about other cultures,  spread a good impression of what an American can be and give myself a break from all the good work I do, even if I can't fix it all.  

Yesterday, we visited the self-exiled/contained community of Christiania—the 85 acre area that has nearly 1000 inhabitants  It was started in ~ 1971 when the old overgrown/unused military training grounds were "taken over" and fenced in and declared a "social experiment" of self-governance .  What an interesting place.  Had a real "stoner" aesthetic at first glance, with the "green light district" and graffiti hailing drugs as the be-all, lots of stalls draped in camouflage wrappers selling hash (or not? since the sale of hard drugs was outlawed there in the 80's), weed and magical looking cupcakes.  Also, organic cafes selling vegetarian food and local fruit juices.  A waaaaay funkier vibe then CPH itself had, felt a bit like the swirling intoxicated world of music festivals (e.g. Gathering of the Vibes) – maybe even Burning Man?  Such a contrast to the Danes on the streets of CPH who were clean-shaven with fancy leather shoes and hip tailored pants and fashionable trench coats that billowed on their shiny red commuter bikes with bells & baskets.  

We felt a need to find some real Christianites and get some back-story beyond the plume of smoke and booze that greeted you at the gates.  Deeper in, we biked through the greener, more "rural" section to see home-made houses, converted trailers, old military barracks turned into communal living spaces, neat wood piles (and stove-pellet piles!), bio-dome shower structures and signs of more rooted & centered lives.  Met some people who lived there for 30+ years, some live there but work "in the city", while others just work in the circuit of Christiania (e.g as a baker).  Funnily, one of the purported core aspects of Christiania is ecological values—yet there was significant trash scattered about and we were served our vegetarian meal on styrofoam plates.  There were some signs of composting but not nearly the level of gardening, home-steading, composting or land-stewardship that I'd expect. 

 Thomas, a 40-plus-year veteran Christianite, explains the benefits of the unique building material he used to make his bathroom

After our visit to "Freeland" of no credit cards and no cars and self-governance, we indulged in a fancy dinner experience at a hip cave-like wine bar recommended by Ross's family friends (mega-foodies) who were just in CPH.  The food is mostly vegetables (our seven course "snacks" tasting consisted of: braised purple cabbage with toasted buckwheat, fennel with chicken confit, unthinkably thinly sliced zucchini in a creamy & zesty green sauce, beet puree over whipped goat cheese, daikon with dehydrated black olives, a perfectly poached egg in a mushroom and nasturtium puree and some pork belly with toasted currants).  Meal was tasty but the service was AWFUL, I went to find our waiter after a 20 minute wait for the check and he was pulling espresso shots for himself and drinking them.  I didn't have the heart to interrupt this.  There was also no water/bread refilling, sluggish plate cleaning and just overall sloooowness.  Which is OK, interesting culturally coming from the US where the customer is paramount and efficiency is the center of the world.  As Ross's dad says, and I paraphrase, "look how obsessed the US is with efficiency and look how screwed up we are".  While I may have wanted more bread and water and attention during my dining experience, this sentiment has settled into my being as an important reminder to tweak my perspective and slow down.  

window shopping on Jægersborggade

Today, our last day in CPH, we got ourselves all woken up, tea'd and Nescafe'd (shhhhh don't tell my dad I like instant coffee), organized, full of ideas for the day, ready to head out to breakfast and we open our front door, #23 on Istedgarde street and good morning…….heroin! Right there, on the stoop.  Two fellows (who had been there when we first pulled up and rested our bikes alongside the wall of the doorway, saying "hey, no bike here, this is an area of business!")  with spoons and lighters and the works.  Oy.  

Had an delicious take-away meal of "smørrebørd":  dense rye kernel bread topped with things like smoked salmon, goat cheese, dill sprigs, chicken liver mousse, toasted hazelnuts, pickled fennel, crisped onions and herbie micro greens.  Brought this picnic to the botanical gardens, figured out how to open our beer & rhubarb juice on the corner of a lilypad pond's "control" box.  (Gary—you'd be proud!)

the last three bites...

Botanical garden—house of palms, venus fly traps, tubular carnivorous orchids and stinging plant (not nettles but related?) that crept and spilled out onto the path—note card says it has hollow silicone hairs that embed into the skin and deliver toxins, known to have killed horses, cows and even 1 human.  Sheesh!  They might take care to prune it or something.  Very dark grey overcast day that threatened to rain but did not all day—excellent for to showcase colors of oxidized copper roofs and lush lawns and yellow wheelbarrows. 

Also had an amazing visit to the David Collection which has one of the Western world's largest and most important collection of Islamic art and they mean it!!!  Not only was it free but they hand you each an iPad loaded with info on each piece as you enter.  We sadly had only an hour here but my head was spinning with all the history, textiles and ancient koran pages around.  There was a room that brought you through the main components of Islam—from the 5 pillars, to the Koran, the Mosque, Astrology, Medicine and so forth. I especially liked learning about the Sufi tradition and how the work "suf" is arabic for "wool" which is a reference to the humble wool garment worn by the sufis.  I also liked learning that one only wears a hijjab after they have made their trip to Mecca (which I am not sure is the case in modern Islam, e.g. the kind burgeoning in West Philly).  I really am hungry for more knowledge of Islam, especially in this time of tension, conflict and misunderstanding of that particular tradition.

Then, hopped on a train to Malmö, sat with our bikes in the carriage, handicapped, baby and bike car (actually had to buy our bikes each a ticket!) and spent a rainy hour scarfing down some tasty Thai food in the ethnic quarter of Malmö (which actually is 1/3 non-Swedes…making it a good place to eat!) Now, I sit from my perch on an overnight ferry (Malmö to Travemünde, Germany) where we will start biking again, first to Hamburg, then onto Berlin.  

PS:  Emil Nolde exhibit at the Lousiana outside Copenhagen= incredible, go see it!!  This man was a card-carrying Hitler supporter for his early years but also had 1100+ pieces confiscated during WWII and had to hide works rolled up in his friends rugs.  A remarkable retrospective; as Ross says, I love a good story and this was a very detailed exhibit.  

PPS:  Sweden wins the bike-path contest!  Copenhagen is full of militant bikers who rule the bike lane the way Manhattanites rule their streets but the paths are better in Sweden.  And the houses are cuter and smaller and more visible… To my eyes, Denmark's massive stucco houses and tall privacy oriented walls felt like suburban New Jersey compared to Sweden's county coastal cottages with low picket fences and glowing garden's seemingly created for the passerby's delight.  

a string of thirty or so Maseratis tore past us on the ride from Helsingør to København

PPPS:  going to the ferry's sauna now :)  

love, 

m.b.