How the world sees Denmark

Another entertaining tidbit on Denmark from my favorite e-newsletter on fashion, culture, and other sweet necessities: DailyCandy. Check out Denmark’s the Spot.

Copenhappy

Time for a poll

True or false: “Denmark is a place where stoic locals wear sensible shoes and snack on herring sandwiches.”

Forget the 7-inch heels that push the pedals. Forget the sushi craze and the anything-but-stoic debauchery on Kongens Nytorv on Saturday night. Apparently, the statement is TRUE - and one of the reasons behind Denmark being the HAPPIEST PLACE ON EARTH.

But seriously: Denmark’s been up there for a while. I even wrote a paper about it for my Social Phych class two years ago. My conclusion was that it was about activity - and not just any activity: activity towards a desired goal.

That may still be the case, but according to the article, Danes also feel really protected (the taxes stink, but they’re there to strengthen that social safety net). And maybe protection is the key. After living here for over a year, I’d say it’s a part of this country’s charm. At work, at least, I feel like the system is looking out for my best interests. Loads of vacation, normal hours, respect for my personal life. All things I sorely missed back in the US. Customer service was way better, but maybe the Danes just haven’t prioritized it because they realize it doesn’t make people happier to have clerks smile at them incessantly and do whatever it takes to make them buy more stuff.

Looking out for our best interests also includes priorizing efficiency. (I’ve been tracking some of its manifestations - check out the category on the left). And it includes letting people feel in control of their lives, by trusting them to use their own judgement to, say, not step off a cliff or lean out the window of a skyscraper. In the US, there’s be signs and locks. Here, there’s just the philosophy that you should be smart enough to make the right decision. I’m sure that makes people feel happier, too.

But you can make up your own mind. Check out the story and the videos here.

p.s. The US is #23 on the list.

I’ve never seen modern dance like this…

It’s been ages since my last blog. Pathetic, really. But in my defense: we’ve started a very fun blog at work and I’m feeling my virtual time being spread a bit thin. Still, my friend’s visit from London has given me a swift kick in the rear about the personal-blog-apathy situation. She’s a successful freelance journalists and has convinced me that a writer must have a personal blog. I may be just a copywriter, which is a few steps removed, but sod it, I’ll work harder to keep up the dissemination of my opinions!!

There are so many times when I wish I had a trustworthy pal in DK I could call to learn about the best cultural event in town. I don’t know if I’d be a reliable pal of the sort to others (my sporadic efforts leave a bit to be desired), but I feel it’s my duty to report good cultural stimulation when I see it.

So if you trust my opinion at all and you’re in Copenhagen, go see Silk & Knife at Det Kongelige Teater. It was really stunning modern ballet. It started in a slightly disorganized way (15 minutes before the announced showtime, we were ushered, slowly, into the basement!) But there in the basement began a walk-through human installation. And 30 minutes later the stage performance began. Let me ask you this: when was the last time you laughed at ballet (and not because it made you nervous)? It was witty and surprising and continually engaging. It made you question the rules of traditional ballet - I wished dancers were always allowed to push their bodies and the way they interact to the limit.

 There were a few very different pieces, always with beautiful music (a new-agey-feeling classical mix). We left the place exhilerated…and thinking that there’s a good reason for Copenhagen being one of the creative capitals of Europe and the #2 most livable city in the world.

And it didn’t hurt that because we’re under 30, we paid 65% less for perfect seats in the 5th row.

Danes and the F-word

On my family’s second night in Copenhagen, we went to the (great) Laundromat Cafe in Østerbro. And on the way there, we walked by a very trendy-alternative looking hair salon. This was the tagline they chose to slap up on their storefront:

“F**king great hairdressers.”

The other day, in a very serious business meeting about a company’s very serious corportate presentation, one of the company’s very serious employees stuck up his middle finger to emphasise that his customers really didn’t care about his product.

My conclusion about the F-word’s travels abroad? Non-Americans do not have a CLUE about its symbolic meaning - yet insist on using it at every opportunity. Why is it so attractive? Is it the way it rolls off the tongue? Or doest it just have that USA cool factor?

I don’t know. I remeber the first time I ran into the F-word. Back in Moscow, at the age og 9, I cut my middle finger and showed it to my new American stepdad so he could give me a bandaid. My mom later had to explain why he’d acted so weird about that cut.

I thought, “Amazing that such a silly hand gesture can be so powerful!” And then I gave everyone I disagreed with the finger for a few months, until I came to the US and realized that I didn’t want to spend my life having balls thrown at my head.

Chagall, Nice, and nasty security guards

If you choose to work in a museum, you really should take pleasure in watching a family of 5 -  two parents with a 26 year old daughter and 7 and 9 year old sons - thoroughly enjoying the art that’s responsible for your livelihood.

But not if you work in France. Here, “35 Heures” (35 hours) is responsible for everything. God forbid you work overtime, you might give someone the impression you care.

I have never been so close to slapping a man in my life. No boyfriend has ever infuriated me as much as this completely full-of-himself French security guard. (Then again, the closest I came to a French boyfriend was a 2-day affair with a Corsican football player, mostly via SMS). Our conversation went something like this (in French, with voices and my use of offensive words escalating by the second).

Me: Do you think it’s logical to let people pay to see this exhibit, then tell them they have 25 minutes since you close at ten to five, and start kicking them out after 15 minutes? Especially when the poster you’ve hung all over Nice says you’re open til 6? What do YOU think?? (At least until now, I’ve been smiling at him ironically, hoping that my good-natured rebellion will let us see a few more Chagalls.)

Him: But Madame, it is not a question of logic or opinion! That is just how it works! There is a hierarchy here, and you do not question it!

 Me: That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard! Where I live, there is no hierarchy (at this point, Denmark is the most wonderful place on earth). And anyway, don’t you have your own opinion? (My favorite question for law-loving fools.)

Him: Madame, rules are rules! It is a question of security! (Has he ever stepped outside of his museum into his rule-guided, security-loving city? Perhaps, then, he could explain the laws that govern its motorway lunatics who aim at pedestrians?).

Me: Do we look dangerous to you?? There’s no one else here! Do you think I’m going to attack a Chagall painting?

…and it goes on, until my Mom covers an entire page of the Comments book in furious scribbles, ending in the words “destroyed my visit” (in reference to the elderly security guard who insisted on following her, as much with his physical presence as with his museum-filling odor that makes one wonder how this country could have possibly invented Eau de Toilette).

So much for our day-long anticipation of the Chagall Museum.

The worst part is that this was a totally one-off experience. Our week here has been fantastic. Everyone has been friendly beyond belief. This morning at breakfast, I had a little monologue over my croissant about how ridiculous the French stereotype is. Yes, maybe it’s because we speak their language, but they seem so damn charming and helpful!

And then it took so little to realize how fitting the 80/20 rule is here, as it is everywhere. 80% of your impressions are based on 20% of your (bad) experiences. Or something like that. Mais oui.  

Amy Winehouse in Copenhagen

Before seeing Amy Winehouse at Zulu Rocks in Copenhagen, I only knew that she sings “Rehab” - and that she has a stunning voice. When the curtain went up, I expected to see something quite different. I couldn’t imagine that the bearer of that voice could be so frighteningly wasting away. Physically, she was hardly there. She kept pulling up her pants because they couldn’t stay up on her tiny waist. Vocally, there but unable to follow the music. She went through about 4 large Cokes, broght on stage by a nervous staff member. When she bent down to take the drink or tie her shoelaces (the latter, at least twice), she could barely get up to the mic in time for her entrance.

The last time I saw someone move that way was when a family friend’s relative stopped by our house, completely high, a few months before she fell off a cliff. But there was something so much more terrifying about watching Winehouse in that state on stage, rubbing her noise and rocking jerkily to the music. She couldn’t focus on the audience. Her very charismatic backup singer was dancing overtime to keep the energy level up on stage. Once, he asked the drummer to wait on starting the song and asked Winehouse if she was alright. And during the last song, she casually turned and walked off before it finished. There might have been more in the repertoire but she seemed barly able to stand.

There were so many little girls in the audience and it was pretty terrifying to imagine what could be going through their minds. The audience was fairly quiet - scared and confused, I imagine - and that was probably the worst reaction for Winehouse to see. She seemed to be longing for a booming response, and she just couldn’t generate it. For some reason, someone in the front was waving a pirate flag (or whatever you call the black one with the skeleton).

For my part, I’ve never been so deeply and personally affected by a performer. Stupidly, a part of me wanted to get back stage and talk to her. She looked so completely lost on stage, and when she sang “I don’t ever wanna drink again, I just need a friend” it occurred to me that at that height of celebrity, it’s possible to feel that you don’t have any at all. A few nights ago I dreamt about having a new anorexic friend whom I was trying to get to eat French yogurt. In the dream, it worked, and I woke up wishing I could somehow do the same for this girl I’ve never met.

After the show, I’ve spent quite a few hours listening to her music on YouTube and watching her videos (particularly the very witty “F**k me pumps“). And I’m amazed by her talent. I don’t think I’ve seen anything like it in any other singers in my generation. She’s funny and charming and strangely beautiful, and the last thing you want is for that talent to disappear because of god knows what she’s gotten herself into.

I’ve just learned about her marriage and matching arm scars…what a damn mess. We all know that there’s nothing you can do if someone doesn’t want to go to rehab…but letting her on stage in that state…it seems to be a complete exploitation of her talent, and a complete disregard for what she really needs.

Last year in my celebrity culture courses, we discussed that celebrities are often proxies for our behavior, doing the things that we dare not try ourselves and living out extremes so that the rest of us may see the results and decide whether we want to make the same choices ourselves.

Amy, please stop proxying and start enjoying your life.

Great food - just don’t expect change

We found this great little cafe, ironically, when we popped in to ask for some change for the parking meter. No way, the waitress said. So we rebelled against her impoliteness and walked around looking for another decent cafe on Christianshavn for 45 minutes (we’d just been to Cafe Luna so that was out, and the French place across the street was full and had a drunk, vociferous, cigar-smoking old man playing fake drums).

So we came back to Sofiekælderen, and asked for food instead of change. I’m really glad we did. I had a great, totally rare (as asked) tuna steak, and it was prepared in this very gourmet way…but without the gourmet price. Really nice atmosphere, modern and cozy setup, quick service, artsy crowd (the guys next to us were excitedly fooling around on a sleek new Mac).

I also found out they have live music. Check them out (menu and music menu online) at www.sofiekaelderen.dk.

Wanna take a Monday morning joy ride?

I can’t figure it out. On Mondays, there’s at least three times more traffic in Copenhagen than on any other day. I left at 8 this morning to get to the office early. Fortunately brought my Danish sentences to recite at red lights. I recited more than I drove! In most cities, if you leave early (i.e. to get to work at 8:30 instead of 9), your commute is shorter. Not here, oh no. So is there any fathomable, logical reason for this?

• Danes might prefer to drive on Mondays and take public transportation the rest of the week. Maybe there are discounts I don’t know about.
• Danes might muster up the courage to drive over the weekend, and get so discouraged on Monday as they sit, motionless, free newspapers shoved in their faces from left and right, that they can’t bear the thought of private transportation the rest of the week.
• Maybe there are other possibilities but I’ve got to get back to work. Any thoughts?

First theater experience in Copenhagen

One of my Danish clients is impressively informed about all sorts of events in Copenhagen. Apart from introducing me to the outlet shopping out at Langelinie, she also mentioned this performance and I thought I’d share. (I haven’t seen it yet but it got a good review in the Copenhagen Post, so we got tickets).

One of the best parts is that if you’re under 30, you can save 65% on the ticket price.

The info is here: American Mixture at Det Kongelige Teater. If you see it, let me know what you think.

Social networking woes

Today, for the first time ever, I took stock of all the social networking sites I belong to. It’s probably not as long as some, but it scared me anyway:

• Facebook - Lets you network with friends (esp. through common institutions), share photos, post comments on each other’s pages, list everything personal about yourself
• MySpace - I’m not a musician, but some great new bands put their music there, and lots of non-musicians use it just like Friendster
• Friendster - I haven’t used this one in a while but you add pictures, add profiles, write messages to your friends (that aren’t as visible as on Facebook), and the like
• LinkedIn - The professional one for uploading your experience, building job-related networks, and finding new jobs
• Twitter - Just joined this today after my colleague did. We can post what we’re doing at the very moment, and apparently you can see what all sorts of people worldwide are up to

I know I don’t spend as much time on this stuff as some. My best friend in London wrote her entire thesis on Facebook to justify the hours she spent on there. “I just facebooked you” became completely normal much faster than “Have you googled him yet.” We used that new Facebook verb a lot.

So I just wonder - am I getting anything out of this social networking? The blogging feels different. I’ve wanted to keep a journal all my life and this seems to help. But more importantly, I can share some stuff I think is useful - things I wish I’d found online. But social networking? What are the pros and cons of this - and which wins?

Grey’s Anatomy’s just about to come on so I won’t get too philosophical on this one, but here are some of the benefits of social network sites:

• Finding people you’ve wondered about for years, like your first boyfriend from 5th grade and his best friend who still tells you that you two were a perfect match
• Seeing your friend’s most bizarre photos
• Finding out there might actually be fewer than 6 degrees of separation
• Occasionally satisfying your curiosity about those people in high school you hoped would somehow normalize in college

And the negative sides of social networking sites:

• The obscene amount of time you spend on those sites…with not totally apparent results.

Grey’s Anatomy time!