Sooner or later it's Copenhagen...

I took the train to Copenhagen on thurdsday afternoon, while the others stayed on at the summerhouse. I had decided it would be good to hang with the cousins a bit and pot around town during my week stint in the motherland. Nicolai picked me up from the station, I stayed at his gorgeous apartment until Sunday night. We all met up with Lea and Ole that night. It’s interesting that being in Denmark, when I log onto a wireless internet connection, I automatically get sent to Danish sites… I literally can’t go to www.google.com... It automatically sends me to www.google.dk. Ok, maybe not that interesting...

Lea, Ole, and Me

The next day, my dear cousin Lea, Nicolai’s youger sister who is a year older than me, took the day off from work to hang out. We just walked around town, and did the most basic touristy stuff. Went on a vandrundfart (boat ride around the city) which starts in picturesque Nyhavn, goes past the famous Little Mermaid Statue (which is really little, and whose head was chopped off a couple years ago, but replaced), the new Opera House, a couple danish castles, etc. Of course I had to have my favorite Danish fastfood lunch – rod polser med remoulade and stegt løg – it’s a long red hotdog in a bun (with remoulade and stegt løg of course).

Nyhavn

Tourists at the Little Mermaid

New Opera House

Lea and Me

Lunch in Nyhavn

I went and had a meaning with some folk from the Bangladesh Division of DANIDA, the Danish Agency for International Development. I knew that DANIDA did a lot of work in Dhaka and figured I should at least chat with them about what they are doing and get some contacts. They’re definitely a group I’d be interested in working with down the road… it would be interesting to use my Danish within my field of interest… I love the fact that I can speak Danish, obviously not great, but well enough, but of course it’s not the most helpful of languages. The most it’s ever come in handy is when Zaki and I were tennis doubles partners in high school, and instead of whispering our strategy we could yell in Danish, "Hit the ball the fat guy on the left side."

Walked through Christiania. This is a little hippie sort of commune place that has now become a tourist attraction. There used to be a place called Pusher Street where the street was lined with stalls of people selling hashish from different parts of the globe… pretty bizarre, and the cops turned a blind eye. But pusher street has now been shut down. I think it used to be some sort of army base, but was abandoned. Squatters moved in and now still don’t pay taxes for living there. Copenhageners all have various opinions about what should be done with Christiania. Talking with people who actually have friends who live there it’s interesting to hear their passion for the beauty of this mini-socialist republic that was created in the middle of a major metropolitan center…

A Church

Entrance to Christiania

Walked down Strøget, the famous walking street with lots of shopping and street performers. Ate a real Danish pastry. It’s funny that the word Danish, as used in English to mean pastry, has that name because Denmark was so famous for its pastries. But when I was younger, most of my friends had never heard of the language Danish, only the word Danish meaning pastry… my most favorite Danish insult that I was ever given was by the famous Dan Brown of Yorktown High School, when he told me, "Shut up or I’ll dunk you ass in coffee!"

Strøget

Danish Pastry

Lea and I headed back to Nicolai’s place and we went out to Tivoli Gardens – the famous amusement park in the heart of the city for dinner. After digesting, and playing some fishing for goldfish type amusement park games, had to jump on the flipping roller coaster - probably Denmark’s only… not bad.

A sign that say Manpower

Entrance to Tivoli

Candy store in Tivoli

After dinner I met up with Anders, a guy I hadn’t seen in probably 8 years or so, the son of one of my mother’s good friends, Lone. He a drummer in a band of mostly Swedish guys, called The Moon Babies… they’re actually on etunes… check them out… they should be touring the states in November. It was interesting hearing about the various up and coming Danish and Icelandic hip-hop and rap groups, and other eclectic bands… some good names to check out: Jokeren, Malk de Koijn, Ikeschel Taschel (apparently these guys sing in a made up language), Den Gale Pose, Lucie Baines, J People, Melk… Nicolai and Lea’s older brother Thomas told me about a great music downloading website. Due to some holes in the Russian intellectual property laws, you can legally download whole albums for about $1 at http://www.mp3search.ru/.

Trekking the Beaches

My favorite Danish meal might be lunch. I have such wonderful memories of great Danish lunches at my grandmother’s apartment. The Danes are big on open faced sandwhices, both white and rye bread. Sandwhich toppings include mackerel, liver patte, potatoes, egg, tomatoes, salami, lots of cheeses, and lots of different jams. The two most important condiments are remoulade and stegt løg. Remoulade is a wonderful mayonnaise-relish and stegt løg are little pieces of fried onions that you can sprinkle generously on top of most things that are edible.

Another nice long walk the next day with the uncle. Walked for 6 hours just walking on the beach… very meditative.

Moste Gitte, Once Viggo, Mums

Rageleje, Denmark

Tisvildeleje, Denmark

Fisherman

Stones on the beach

Denmark

Spent the first night in Denmark at my Aunt Gitte and Uncle Viggo’s place. Got up the next morning for our adventure to the summerhouse on the north coast. Denmark being so small a summerhouse is about an hour away of course – other side of the country. My cousin Nicolai's girlfriend is Rikke and her parents have this wonderful little cottage in the woods that she had been going to most of her life. Took a walk down the ocean and took a nice brisk dip.

The Beach + The Haribo

Watched some soccer on TV that night and dusted a couple of bottles of red wine with the mother, aunt, and uncle. Nicoloai and Rikke came up for dinner and I met their baby, Jonathan… some have said that he looks like Izzat, my older brother, because he is a fellow mutt, half Danish, half Indian (I know… all us brown folk look the same). It’s funny, there are these certain ages when babies can do no wrong. No matter what they do, it’s cute. If they fall down, it adorable, if they drool spinach onto their shoes its worth a whole role of pictures… the time in our life of most freedom, most free will, we don’t even remember…

Nicolai and Jonathan

Jonathan and me

Danish Candy

In the airport I bought my first bag of Haribo candy, this one called Famille Guf, which I think means family marshmallows. mmmm…. Haribo… I was once told that Danes eat the most candy per capita… Most of my life I had been convinced that Denmark was famous for three things: Hans Christen Anderson, Legos, and Haribo. It wasn’t until a couple years ago that I learned that Haribo was actually German… I was sad. But there are these wonderful Haribo variations that definitely can’t buy in the states, and might not be able to buy in Germany… the perfect mixture of licorice, gummy, marshmellowy goodness. Addiction to candy and sugar is a strange thing. For most of my life I have literally been addicted to this candy. Whenever my mother would come back from Denmark, Zaki and I would consume the entire massive 3 pound box as soon as we’d get it. We would inevitably eat until we were sick… shoving more candy in the mouth before we’ve finished swallowing.

Oh, then there’s the other kind of Danish candy, a company called Bon Bon. They make mainly hard candies with a strong licorice filling. All the varieties have very immature names like Dog Farts, Seagull Droppings, Buggers, Sewage, and The Garbage Dump. Affinity towards something like licorice is interesting. Very strong salty licorice is one of the most horrible tastes for most Americans that I’ve met. But you grow up with anything and you have a deep engrained affinity…

Licorice is to Denmark and as yeast extract is to Sri Lanka… Marmite, Vegemite, and Promite are consumed widely in England, Australia, and former British Colonies. Marmite is this very salty sticky spread that you can lightly spread on toast at breakfast for example. I love it, but if you didn’t grow up with it chances are you won’t be able to stand it. I remember when I was studying abroad in Perth, Australia and there was this common prank that the aussie’s would play and all the Sepo’s – us Americans (sepo... short for septic tank... yank yank septic tank, get it... we're the septic tank of the world...) – telling the American study abroad kids that Vegemite was actually Nutella and trick them taking a big spoonful.

Traveling to Denmark

Ah beautiful Copenhagen… beautiful Denmark… the land of blond hair and blue eyes… of cheese and liver patte and licorice and gummy bears and rum balls and Carlsberg and soft serve ice cream. It was so wonderful to be back home… in some ways it does feel like home. There is this wonderful coziness to the streets. Kind of like London, streets are all smaller than in the US, cars are all naturally smaller (and gas prices are at about $8/gallon). I am energized whenever I go.

I love hearing Danish. I love trying to converse in Danish. I never went to school there, but mor kept it up with us since we were young. I’ve been told that I have a half decent accent/pronunciation, but it’s funny b/c I have a kindergarten reading level… I can only sound out words. Of course attempting to converse in Danish can be frustrating at times when I can’t fully express all my thoughts due partially to a lack of vocabulary.

When I think about Denmark, I often use the word nostalgia… not sure if I use this word correctly… nostalgia… I don’t necessarily mean it with a negative connation… homesicknesses, reminiscence, wistfulness, longing, melancholy… maybe there is this bittersweetness to my memories of Denmark… but aren’t most things bittersweet...

I suppose traveling is bittersweet. You might love an experience but realize it must come to an end OR something is really not as good as you had expected OR you have distorted memories of doing something and you are let down when you do it for a second time.

Maybe it is something to do with the fact that I feel a bit like a stranger sometimes… I don’t really feel like I have a home. My mother’s home is Denmark. My father’s home is Sri Lanka. Mine is neither. I honestly don’t really feel like the US is my home. I moved there when I was 4, and have lived there most of my life. I am basically American, I just don’t really feel it… and I guess I don’t really want to feel it. But then again, I guess I am like so many. In this day an age of globalization, and constant moving, it’s tough to really be grounded anywhere. Maybe most people can’t really say they are attached to one place…

Hmmm, I wonder if it’s a minority of the world who literally have been born and raised in the same place, and all the family and family as far back as they know also lived in the same place… but then who’s to really say what home is… what one place is… if you move to another state, another town, down the street, you’ve moved, changed your physical settings… and of course your physical settings are constantly changing around you no matter what… hmmm, I guess it’s not possible to be attached to just one place… maybe it’s like the search for balance in one’s life… it’s this constant struggle for dynamic equilibrium. Even someone who says they are American and loves America, one must question this. The physical shape, landscape, culture, politics, etc of this thing called America is constantly changing. The America that one might have felt a part of as a child is not the same America as the one of today. The hometown one grew up is different though parts look the same. The definition of what it means to be American is constantly changing. Hmmm, but over the ages this term American has remained… but I supposed it has remained in dynamic equilibrium…

So… let’s think. What does this mean for me? If everyone in the world constantly feels grounded to something that is ever changing, I suppose my situation is really not that different from everyone else’s. I have connections to many places, to many lands. Memories of places bring me joy. The more lands I see in my life, the more I get to see the memories of lands that other people claim as their home, the more I get to live vicariously through what it must be like to feel grounded to a home… the more memories the more joy… the more memories, the more difficult life becomes. The more one sees of the world, the more extremes one realizes the world has. Beauty beyond ones wildest imagination… ugliness beyond ones worst nightmare. The sharing of joy and peace that invigorate a liberal ideal of cooperation. I suppose I’ll have to settle down at some point, but when you are spoiled by catching the travel bug at an early age, you probably assume all the answers are out there… I suppose at one level we all share the same home while at the same time we are all strangers…

Kickin' it with da London Cuzins

Sunday was walking tour no. two, this time with pops and Iqbal Maama. Took our time walking past the Thames to the Shakespeare Globe theatre.

Kids playing pirate in front of pirate ship

Father enamored by a guy on the street selling birds callers

Then met up with Debbie Wissel and threw down a couple cold ones. She and Zaki actually work together in Manhattan for a company called Innovest, and she is working at the London office for a few months.

Debbie and I walked along the river toward the Tower Bridge, past a cool outdoor photo exhibit, called something like Photos of Earth or something. Gorgeous aerial photos from around the globe.

Debbie and me

Tower Bridge

Photo of a French neud beach (from Photos of Earth exhibit)

I had dinner plans with cousins Amaara, Tariq, and Flora at 6:30ish (Dinazarde... I'm sorry we never met up), so took the tube (MIND THE GAP!!!) to Trafulgar square and met up with them.

The Cuzins

Went to a funky café in some some real hip part of town and drank lemongrass tea. Ate at great Japanese noodle place called Wagamamma’s. Played a mean game of the Chopstick Game:

Crashed at Tariq’s place that night. Cute little flat in South Kensington.

Look who's peeking...

Flora and Tariq are both artists. Flora is a constume designer and has designed costume for both theatre and film. Tariq draws amazing marvel-comic type realistic art… he is the concept artist for a new sci-fi channel show called Harvest. He also is the original artist for all the characters for a computer game called Fallout: Tactics. His role, I think, is to take the vision of the writers and draw all the characters. Then if the right characters have been created, he hands off his 2-D work to the 3-D computer guys who connect dots to make it a living moving animation. If the show Harvest takes off this fall he’ll be heading to Hollywood. Check out his amazing stuff at www.tariqart.com... Ummm… must be 18 years or older to enter!

Tariq's Art

The next day we were off… father flew to Sri Lanka, mother and I to denmark…

London Walking Tour No. 1

Didn’t sleep that night of course… jet lag is the worst. Saturday we took a little touristy walking tour of the city. Walked around with pops and Nelufar Maami… mommy was a bit too jet lagged. Arrived at Trafular Square. Walked down past Prime Minister’s place, to Parliament.

Saw good ol Big Ben. It was interesting that there was a statue of Abe Lincoln just a block from Parliment. There was some anti-war protest signs outside of Parliment.

Chillin

Abey Baby

Entrance to Parliment

Anti-War Protest Signs

It was funny to see Jay-Z's picture on all the double decker buses for some sort of Reebok ad.

Ma Dog

Made it down to St Jame's Park and Buckingham Palace. Dinner that night was at a Bangladeshi restaurant. My cousin Imran is the real finance business guru of the family… Got a ride in his schmancy BMW. Fatina, his wife is a sweetheart. I think it was sociology that she got her PhD in, studying the migration of women from Sri Lanka to London (hope I didn’t botch that too much) and is now working with a welfare organization.