Ground Control
Haven't updated my lj in quite a while - one year, to be exact. I wonder what it might mean that I return now and not earlier (or later). Perhaps the silence I keep on tumblr is getting to me, but even here, I feel at a loss for words. I shall try regardless:
I live in Copenhagen right now, Amager Strand. I bought a bike to save up on public transport, though I find myself using the metro from time to time, especially when I am late for work (I often am). The bike's color is a startling light blue, the price was even more so - you cannot imagine the anger fit I had when I found out that a newly opened Kvickly sold the same for 1000DKK less, a month after I had purchased mine. The one curled lock on it drives me nuts so much, that I got used to saying "useless piece of shit" to other things that bother me now, too.
The wind isn't as terrible as it is in Iceland, which feels more of a slap and less than a forceful push. It is, however, just as annoying. Oftentimes it shoves me to the side or does not allow me to drive at a high speed. Once I almost toppled over while waiting at a traffic light. The weather changes daily in quick succession, much faster than in Iceland and I cherish the windless days, though they are - rather than not - all the more colder for it.
My room, too, is icy and never gets above 20°C (it is 16°C right now, even tho the heater has been at its max. for the better part of an hour). The only things I do when home is sleep or lie in bed/browse the net. The desktop chair is an atrocious monster that leaves you feeling old and achy very fast, making it hard to work at the desk so I avoid it like the plague.
I thought about maybe putting down my thoughts concerning my landlady, but I cannot find the energy for vitriol. Suffice to say is, that she's a weird control freak that needs to have things her way and forces me into her routine. A hypocrite, too, when it comes to food (especially to food). I occupy less than 10% of the freezer and still, it is too much, there is no space left because of me and that I should eat ~everything~ of my three things I own. How is anyone even supposed to finish a whole package of vegetables in one go? What a shitty suggestion, don't tell me when and how to eat, especially if you have a shitload of food in the freezer that you haven't touched either. .-. Not that she'd listen, as long as she gets her words in, she's fine. It's a bit like talking to a wall, really.
Talking about talking: Danish is a strange language, I think. I had a fondness for it, a soft spot if you will, before coming here. Before being subjected to the endless mumbling and oddly timed jump of emphasis on a daily basis. I got better at it but I can honestly say I won't miss it. If I never live in Copenhagen again it will be still too soon. It really isn't a city for me. Visually, it seems like a puzzle of badly fitting pieces from various cities: Leipzig, Berlin-Kreuzköln, downtown London and Scandinavia. I really don't know what to make of it, but it's not something that feels like home.
In a way, I am glad for it, because it just shows me how much I enjoyed and valued last year in Reykjavík. It was a great time, but perhaps I am sugarcoating it. Fuzzy memories and all. Was it really that great?
I miss the friends I made there, and some will not return with me coming January but I also do not regret going to Oslo. It might seem like that's where all the fun is, and Rabea would have been an invaluable friend and study-partner, but on the other hand, KU is less of a hassle than UiO and though the variety of classes is not as broad, it is rewarding enough. I'd take Fornaldarsögur over Runes any day, thanks (plus, I really do not like Terje - and it seems, I am not the only one who shares this sentiment if Rabea's complaints are any indication).
Initially I wanted to go to Oslo too, but due to financial reasons, I chose not. I got a job here at the Dansk Jødisk Museum and the opportunity for an internship (if the NFI had had any money to employ me, they would have) for the Sagas for All Time Project. These things keep me busy and it's OKAY, it keeps me from pondering too much about all the things I miss and that I do not have. Friends in Denmark are hard to come by and the idiom "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em" fits the bill more than I'd prefer. Yet I am not fond of sports clubs and trying to weasel my way into an RPG group here, when I know I'll leave soon again anyways, seems like a waste of my time.
The Mentor Programme here provided me with a language tandem partner - Cecilie - who is a smart, warm girl that I like good enough. We share nothing, but it's still nice to hang out once a week for a few hours. We went to see the ARKTIS exhibition at the Louisana Art museum and it was one of my best days in Copenhagen, hands down. The exhibition is excellent, informative and interactive. A tasteful combination of art, history, politics, science, cultural and climate studies. Though I did not exactly need to know the Greenlandic story about the Loose Rectum-hunter, it was still an inspiring experience all together.
The colleagues at the museum are surprisingly friendly and helpful, too, curious but not prodding. Speaking Danish there gets tiring, but I figured, if they make an effort to listen to me disassemble their language, I might as well not dishonor my own vow of switching to English (granted, it is tempting). Work also provides me with human interaction, even if it is limited, one that is unfortunately amiss at University. Only Kevin and Liam decided to come to Copenhagen (Yoav, Steven and Czette (sp?) are in Aarhus. James, Cole, Jörgen, Rabea, Ben, Scott, Marie and Liv in Oslo), but we don't share much beside being in the same programme. Everyone's go their own full platter to worry about and forcing my presence onto the unwilling isn't exactly my style, either. I might get to like Anne if we had more time to dance around one another, but that is sadly not the case. It all remains non-committal 3rd-degree acquaintanceship. It's nothing that transcends casual niceties, even with Beeke and Sebastian, who I see often enough in the office (for the internship). Though I've really grown fond of Anne Mette Hansen, a sweet lady with a gentle smile and somewhat tired eyes. A careful scholar who apparently enjoys dispensing chocolate treats.
When I return to Iceland, not everyone will be there too, as most will stay in Oslo (booh) and Rabea will return back to Germany to write her thesis there (dammnnnnn). But Zuzana and Yoav will be there, Johanna too who joined the VMN this summer. Plus, Tómas and the RPG/Board-game peeps are there to while away my evenings with pizza and silly jokes. I knew I missed Iceland the day I left it behind, but the feeling has been driven really home here in Copenhagen. There is just nothing like the setting sun falling on Esja on a clear day. Denmark clearly lacks in breath taking views ( Den Lille Havfrue is a joke). I can't wait.
I also get to work (edit) with Jesse Byock on a German translation for his Old Norse book - an exciting endeavor and one which will look neat on my CV. I really cannot complain regards to my career advancements. Or the lack of free time. It's going somewhere, finally, though I do not know where exactly. There will be a well earned respite later on, making the stress worthwhile.
Christmas is shall be very relaxing and my holiday trip to Israel at the end of December/beginning of January makes the work hours at the museum more than bearable (the current week is crazy, I have a 60h week with classes/internship + work aah).
The only thing which will hurt a lot is the absence of my grandfather, who passed away in May this year. I still feel terrible, guilty and angry at myself for not having come home earlier. I could have, yet I didn't. I was on an excursion and had not dreamt to return before mid June. There was no possibility for me to have known, and yet -- it seems so weird for I had been thinking about my grandfather the same day he passed away... Allowing myself to feel grief is still difficult and expresses itself in sudden, unwanted bursts of sadness that I am unable to handle properly.
While I was waiting for my appointment at the physiotherapy, a man passed me by who reminded me strongly of my grandfather and though I tried to hold it in, the moment my physiotherapist asked if I had a headache, I broke. Well, that certainly was very unexpected and embarrassing, but it also felt good to let go and know that I am not as unaffected as I feared I might be. It's merely hidden deep down. It will be a work of years to uncover it fully and to let it heal. On the other hand, I fear so very much for my grandmother. She handles it well, I suppose, but I still ache for her and her loss and this duality is like a searing twist of feeling that paralyzes me in my own grieving process.
There is, of course, lots more to tell. Of the last year, of the plans lying before me, but for now, I shall remain content to have put down some recounts of the last few months in words finally. Life is not great, but it certainly isn't anywhere near terrible, either.