Notes From The Travel Hound

I begin with an aside. But given this blog's appellation I believe it relevant. One of my goals while studying abroad is to read all the books I have always wanted to but never had the time to outside of school. As a history major, all I seem to do during the academic year is to read a lot then write about what I read. Simple but time consuming, it drives away any opportunity for pleasure reading. Given all the traveling I have been doing (and have yet to do), and the accompanying dead time waiting for or on or in airplanes, taxis, buses and hotels, I have realized that now is the time for me to read for curiosity's sake! This is the reason I came to China with six books...

...It is also why I now have 41! Wait, but let me explain. It's all these guys' fault.

Rampant around my university are these book-carts, full of pirated books. Before coming here, I had no idea pirated books even existed! These carts, always run off the end of a bicycle for a quick and easy getaway from police, sell English language bestsellers and classics, including what seems like almost the entire run of Penguin Classics. At what price you wonder? 10 kuai, which is approximately $1.60! I'll peruse a cart a couple times a week after coming out of class and buy maybe 2-5 books a week. I admit I am addicted but hey, my library is growing, and I've been buying/reading what some would consider 'literature'. But that is only because, unfortunately, they sell no Danielle Steel here.

Continuing where my last post left off, the first thing worth mentioning is a trip I took with three buddies to Xinjiang province over the National Holiday from October 1st to 11th. Xinjiang, meaning 'New Territory', is China's western most province and home to an ethnically Turkish minority group, known as the Uyghur people. Uyghurs live across Central Asia, including countries outside of China such as Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and Uzbekistan, speak their own Turkic language, use the Arabic writing script, practice Islam, eat a more middle eastern cuisuine, so as a result assert cultural, historical, and political independence from (ethnically Han) China. (After spending time there I am sympathetic to this claim.) In recent years, ethnic tensions have risen, mainly due to Uyghur concerns of exploitation and cultural repression by the Chinese government, specifically its policy of offering strong incentives to Han Chinese to move out to Xinjiang - thereby changing the demographics of what the Uyghurs consider their traditional homeland - and the extraction of oil from Xinjiang's large reserves by government owned corporations with most of the wealth funneled to politically connected Han businessman and not locals. In the summer of 2009 these tensions boiled over into large scale protests, then riots and uncontrolled violence by Uyghur separatists, labeled as terrorists by the Chinese government (and the US State Department), resulting in the deaths of hundreds of both Uyghurs and Han, but mostly Han, though the exact number is not known due to a government media blackout. (In fact, after the first couple days of violence the internet was shut down for over a month throughout Xinjiang province and telephones and mobiles phones were shut off for over a week.) Having spoken to both Uyghurs and Han Chinese, there is absolutely an almost universal feeling of distrust and dislike on both sides. It is tragic, scary, and I don't doubt that violence could easily erupt again. The Chinese government shares this assessment. While we were in Xinjiang, it at times had the feeling of an occupation. The picture below is of my friend Greg, who we used as a decoy to take this picture because a direct shot is not allowed, and an armed patrol stationed on the streets of the provincial capital Urumqi. These outposts of Chinese soldiers were ubiquitous throughout the city, with some even carrying around shotguns or automatic weapons while dripping with ammo. It was a sight and feeling I had never before experienced.

I so thoroughly enjoyed my time in Xinjiang that I would definitely think of returning when I travel to China again. (I've decided to come back because I doubt I'll be able to make it to Xian and Tibet before I leave, even though they are both on my bucket list.) After arriving on a train from Shanghai - the trip took 46 hours, an experience but not necessarily one worth repeating - we spent two nights in Urumqi, at 2.1 million people the largest in Xinjiang and 'the most remote city from any sea in the world', then traveled to Kashgar, an ancient city of under a half million that was a major stop on the old Silk Road. While in Kashgar we visited local mosques, ate an obscene amount of lamb skewers, and met cool locals as well as some foreigners staying at our hostel. We left Kashgar once on a two day road trip we took up the Karakoram highway to the China-Pakistan border, with a night spent in Tashkurgan, an ancient fortress town. Below is a picture of Greg, Tom, Ben, and I standing on the Pakistani side of what is the world's highest elevation border crossing. (After this picture, we walked around, but for apparently too long - security was tight: we had to get special permission from the local police office in Tashkurgan to visit the border, along with further passport checks and car inspections on the way - so the Chinese border guard yelled at us to get back in the car. I sprinted maybe 15 yards back to the car then started sucking for air and feeling light-headed. That's 17,000 ft for you.)

After arriving back in Shanghai, I had a little more than two weeks left to visit the 2010 Shanghai World Exposition. I ended up visiting three times. The Expo and its mascot, the annoying Haibao who bears a strong resemblance to Gumby, have been advertised all over Shanghai since I've been here. I am not sure of the level of exposure that the 2010 Expo is getting back in the States but here in China it is talked about constantly. The government invested billions of dollars into its construction and any necessary supporting infrastructure, including multiple brand new subway lines, the bulldozing and relocation of entire neighborhoods, and thousands of more taxis. The Expo is to Shanghai as the Olympics were to Beijing. The Expo experience consists of hundreds of pavilions sponsored mostly by individual countries but also by international organizations like the UN or specific themes, like Cities of the Future. One observation I must share is that the Chinese people have an amazing tolerance for lines. Given that this Expo broke the record for highest attendance, beating Osaka 1970, I should have expected it, but gosh, waiting 9 hours in line to see the world's largest IMAX at the Saudi Arabia pavilion? Not worth it to me. (Luckily, I was able to get into VIP entrances at a few pavilions, mostly the European ones, by flashing my student ID card that I got over the summer from Copenhagen University. Turns out all the Scandinavian countries had a mutual entrance policy so I got into Finland, Denmark, Iceland, Norway, and Sweden without a wait. For those who had to stand in lines, the cumulative wait time would have been close to 10 hours!) I could say a lot more, but I'll stick to the highlights, which will consist of three pictures with commentary.

This is a picture of me outside the China pavilion. Architecturally, it was beautiful, especially at night with all the lights on. Per Expo regulations, China had the largest pavilion by far. Incidentally, just next to the China pavilion was Taiwan's, which was way smaller and aestically dominated by its mainland cousin. Any symbolism there?

Where did I take this picture? Ding ding ding, the North Korean pavilion is correct! No joke. The pavilion consisted of a large photo-shopped picture of a sparkling Pyongyang, a stone bridge over what was supposed to be a creek but in reality was just a painted blue floor, then a gift shop where one could buy various pieces of propaganda literature and North Korean flags. Since the goods were actually produced in the DPRK, I decided to buy some and add to their measly GDP, possibly thereby negligibly raising the living standard but more likely fueling Kim Jong-Il's Hennessey habit.

This came from the same pavilion. Projected onto three TV running on the walls behind the gift shop counter was a preview of the DVD that was being sold called, something along the lines of, "A Night with the Pyongyang Symphony." It seemed boring and not worth watching/buying until this lady came out from the orchestra pit, dressed in her Army uniform, and began shredding on her guitar. No doubt it was a bizarre sight. I now regret not purchasing that DVD.

This came from the pavilion right next door to North Korea's, Iran's. (These two pavilions were tucked into the farthest corner of the Expo site, essentially isolated from the rest of the world's pavilions. Again, the symbolism was heavy.) Iran's was fairly tame, consisting mostly of pictures of Ahmadinejad and Khameini, and a display of rugs that were outrageously priced. Walking through, I was rather unimpressed and about ready to get out until I saw this and had to do a double take. It is a scale model of the nuclear enrichment plant. The sign next to it extolled the advanced technology of the Iranian state. There was no attempt to hide its nuclear capabilities, instead it blatantly bragged. (Afterwards, a friend and I got into the Israel pavilion - all my friend had to do to get in was to say he was an American Jew; the line we cut was over two hours long - and mentioned what we had just seen to one of the Israelis working. She said that when she walked into the Iranian pavilion and saw it, her heart stopped she was so shocked.) This display solidified in my mind that there is no way Iran will willingly give up its nuclear program. Evidently it is a point of pride for their country. Given that no country, and I'm definitely including the United States in this, has the political, military, and economic resources to coerce the Iranians into giving it up, we all better get used to a nuclear armed Iran.

The next few weeks went by fast, as has most of my time in this program, and were marked by the visits of my older sister Stina, who had been on a tour of China, and my parents, who came for my 21st birthday. Seeing them was of course enjoyable, and I have really been very lucky to have had the chance to meet members family in Denmark previously, China recently, and Israel in the future, for both Stina and my parents have now committed to visiting next semester.

From November 4th to 7th, I went with a group of friends to the city of Qingdao (Tsingtao), which you may know through their locally produced beer called, well, "Tsingtao". We of course visited the brewery. The tour was really excellent, and their beer turns out to have a very interesting history. The brewery was founded by the German administrators who ran Qingdao as a concession during the 19th century, meaning that for a few decades Qingdao was actually a German territory - it had been been wrested by the Kaiser away from the Qing emperor due to its strategic port location. At the time of its creation, it was the first and only brewery in all of China. The town was then taken over by the Japanese during World War I, and the brewery with it. They kept the traditional pilsner and dark beer but also added a Japanese beer variety known as Asahi, which is still sold here in China. The Chinese regained control of the city - and therefore the brewery - as a part of the Treaty of Versailles. Tsingtao Brewery was run as a private company until 'Liberation' in 1949 when it was nationalized by the communist government. Prior to China's economic opening to the world, Tsingtao was one of the few permitted exports, and for the period from 1949-1979 accounted for over 90%(!) of China's total exports.

Within China, besides its beer, Qingdao is also known for its beaches. I was therefore determined to at least spend some time lounging a la playa. I did get my chance, but the weather did not cooperate. I was in pants and a long sleeve shirt with a heavy jacket on top and still I was shivering. I stuck it out though, lasting for over half an hour, reading a book. It was two in the afternoon on a sunny day but evidently the heavy pollution (just look at the background of this picture below) wasn't letting enough rays through.

Disappointing, but whatever I can say I did it. After this whole beach episode, the group I was with decided to visit the People's Liberation Army Naval Museum, which included decommissioned submarines, destroyers, tanks, missiles, and torpedo boats. All of these were open and explorable, even the submarine. Awesome, huh? It even had Korea War-era fighter jets that had fought and shot down American fighters. It's kinda a weird feeling to read the information plaques lauding the heroics of their pilots, but hey that was almost 60 years ago and things are different now. (Aren't they? I hope.) I know that concerns on China's militarization are frequently voiced in the news but this museum really showed me why China is upgrading their military equipment. In the most telling example, one of the destroyers I walked around was built in 1936 in the USSR and given to the Chinese navy. This ship was not decommissioned until 1996! If I was China and had the wealth, I too would be trying to bring my military into the 21st century, let alone the post-World War II era. I'm sure across the Chinese military there are more cases of hopelessly outdated technologies still in use so we in the West ought to set our paranoia aside and rest a little more easily. (Though I do understand that a large part of the worry stems from the fact that China hides its military expenditures, yada yada yada...)

Well this post has run quite long, and I still have more things to talk about, but perhaps I ought to save them for conversation or solitary reminiscing. If you've read this far, good on you! I hope it was worth it.

Books - Brave New World by Aldous Huxley

"It's curious," he went on after a little pause, "to read what people in the time of Our Ford used to write about scientific progress. They seemed to have imagined that it could be allowed to go on indefinitely, regardless of everything else. Knowledge was the highest good, truth the supreme value; all the rest was secondary and subordinate. True, ideas were beginning to change even then. Our Ford himself did a great deal to shift the emphasis from truth and beauty to comfort and happiness. Mass production demanded the shift. Universal happiness keeps the wheels steadily turning; truth and beauty can't. And, of course, whenever the masses seized political power, then it was happiness rather than truth and beauty that mattered...People were ready to have even their appetites controlled then. Anything for a quiet life. We've gone on controlling ever since. It hasn't been very good for truth, of course. But it's been very good for happiness. One can't have something for nothing. Happiness has got to be paid for."

Music - Evil Boy by Die Antwoord

People - Stanislav Petrov: the unknown hero who saved the world from nuclear annihilation

Hi Shanghai!

I arrived in Shanghai on August 29th. As I took the long cab ride across the city, by the neon buildings and seemingly infinite apartment high rises, I let out a lunatic laugh and wondered "Where am I?" I just had traveled about 10,000 miles in less than 72 hours: I reluctantly left Copenhagen on Friday the 27th, arrived that same night in San Francisco where I saw many friends and spent a night with my City once again (I feel a need to admit it felt surreal - almost dreamlike), then got on a plane to China on Saturday afternoon. I was dropped off down the block from my apartment, wandered a bit until I found my place, then settled in for the night. The next morning I awoke to this image out my bedroom window. No matter where my mind was, I knew it had not yet caught up to my physical surroundings, for here I was - a waiguoren (foreigner) in Shanghai.

The next morning I had registration and an orientation, which was followed by a tour of the city, including a visit to an old monk garden. The complex was beautiful, full of strange rocks (said to put you in a meditative state), traditional architecture, and a koi pond, in addition to diverse and well-maintained gardens. The coolest part though was stumbling upon the trees pictured here. After a double-take, I recognized them, for they happen to be my favorite tree. I had also heard about them in Boy Scouts from an assistant scoutmaster, and acclaimed naturalist, Jack Laws. (He has published an amazing guidebook on the Sierra's that can be found on Amazon.) They were Chinese or Dawn Redwoods.

Prior to the 1940s, Redwoods were thought only to be native to California's northern coasts, though a Chinese species was known from the fossil record, but thought extinct. In 1941, a Chinese forester noticed a weird looking tree while hiking, and later sent samples to scientists in Beijing and Nanking, where it was discovered to be a still extant, though severely limited, population of Redwood trees. Since then these trees have become ubiquitous across China for their aesthetic value, and have now been planted in nurseries across the world. (Here ends my Wikipedia regurgitation.)Finding that tree, and then subsequently seeing it all over town, including on Fudan University's campus, has brought back memories from home. One thing I always miss when I leave California is the gorgeous scenery and nature, but at least I've got one thing here to fulfill that craving for what I miss.

Although some of the trees have turned out to be the same, the weather definitely hasn't. Just a couple days ago I excitedly wore, for the first time in China(!), a pair of pants. If you know me, I'm not much of a shorts guy, so trust me, it was a big deal. Until about a week ago, temperatures were constantly in the 90s with unacceptable humidity. A scorching sunny day could quickly turn to a summer downpour and back within an hour. Though the rain would provide temporary cooling relief, afterward it meant greater moisture in the air and the accompanying sticky-ness that engulfs your body. I don't like to complain, but weather is one thing that can set me off; so, when combined with the months I had spent with Danes - who never stop talking about the weather - and my unadapted, strictly Northern European heritage, I can't help myself. I remember reading in my history classes back at Berkeley journal accounts of colonialists who were sent off to the tropical regions of the world. It always annoyed me that much of their writing was consumed with bitter rants on the weather of their region. (I wonder if anyone has attempted to trace the cruelty of colonial regimes to the weather-induced bad moods of their administrators.) Now, I understand. And look at me, what am I doing?! I should move on...

Check out these photographs:






















First, I will explain what is in these two photos then I will provide some context. The top one shows a set of open air containers that were used to house live giant frogs, water snakes, turtles, and snails. The one on the bottom shows freshly roasted pig snouts on display with a price of 26.20 RMB (a little less than four dollars and a few RMB more than the price of a typical lunch). Where did I find these, in some back alley butcher frequented only by locals? Nope. I found them when I went to a packed WalMart (a.k.a WaMa) to buy soap and shampoo. I found them both in the grocery area - so no, those live animals aren't supposed to be pets. Anything, including dog, seems to be edible here. Perhaps that is the vestige of a history of famine? The rest of the WalMart was also rather interesting, and I ended up taking more pictures than items bought (the rest of the collection can be found on my Facebook). Though a western corporation, WalMart has nevertheless adapted itself to China, as I have had to also. I can't compare my shopping experience here with anything in the US because I have yet to step foot in a WalMart back home, or at least I have no memory of doing so. But if it taught me something, the Chinese can consume just as well as anybody else.



















Coming to China, I must admit I harbored fears - some now obviously irrational - regarding the power of the state and its ability to stifle speech, movement, and information. Even to just write this blog post I have had to go through a VPN (virtual private network) hosted by UC Berkeley because this website is blocked. Let us all be thankful that our government(s) trust(s) us enough to operate a blog. The photo above demonstrates a very real differences between the US and China. It is a shot from a classroom that includes some of my classmates in the foreground. In the background is a single camera pointed directly at the class. At the lectern, from which the professor must speak, are two microphones. The camera and the microphones are on 24 hours a day. It is like this in every classroom. Whether or not someone actively listens and/or watches the classroom, the message is clear: students are a threat and the government must know what they are up to. However, there is one place on campus where professors and students are not placed under surveillance while they teach and learn: the Center for American Studies. I speculate that because the CAS was built with a State Department grant, the US government has refused to install cameras. For that, I am thankful for my country.

















I have ventured outside of Shanghai once, when I went to Nanjing with four friends: Tom, Greg, Ben, and Jamie. The main purpose of our trip was to visit the Rape Museum, which details the atrocities committed by the Japanese during their occupation of their city in the run up to, and during, World War II. To the Chinese, it is a part of their Holocaust. The museum claimed that the Japanese killed 300,000, and not just soldiers, but mostly the men, women, and children who were left behind. The statues outside, like the one of the left in the photo above, testified to horrors the civilians were subjected to. Inevitably, it was a moving experience. The museum had great English translations of the commentary, something not so common. One of the two images that will stick in my mind the most from our visit was walking into a room that contained in it a mass grave filled with the skeletons of the victims. They had built the museum around this find and left it there bare for all visitors to see. The other was a picture taken by a Japanese soldier as a souvenir, but now serving as an example of their brutality, of a companion soldier with a sword raised above his head, a split moment before bringing it down upon the neck of an old Chinese man. But what this photo captured was a complete look of serenity upon the old man's face. He had been forced down on his knees, but had placed himself in a meditative position and had his palms pressed together in front of him. We cannot control what happens to us outside of our minds, how external forces act upon us, but we do have the pure freedom, and an irrevocable freedom at that, to react as we please. And in that moment before this man was beheaded he had serenity, while the soldier was seething with hate. As I walked away from the photo after a long time spent analyzing it, I thought to myself, the old man had won.


On a more personal note, I have been so pleased with the new social life I have settled into. I have made a great group of friends, who are all from California, and mostly the Bay Area. I had wished to make friends with the locals but there are large language, cultural, and social differences. As most of the kids in the program are under 21, there has been a high level of excitement for going out to bars and clubs, something we are deprived of back in the states. Shanghai is also arguably the best city in China to do so. The photo on the left shows one club we went to, known as Club Obama. It is one of Shanghai's newest clubs and had a large amount of money poured into it. When a friend found it on the internet, we decided we had to go. Unfortunately, it didn't live up to expectations (coincidence?). When out in the city, I have been repeatedly impressed by the generosity and friendliness of the Chinese. Men (the women here are cripplingly shy unless they are hookers) will buy me and my friends drinks or invite us to their table for service without charging us anything. A friend in the program insists that it is a part of their culture, and feeds their status, to be seen with "white" people, especially Americans. Comparing the treatment of Americans here to Europe, I must say that they like 'us' more here. Even though Europe and the US share culture, history, and are 'allies', Europeans can be snobby, as they sometimes dismiss Americans as brutish and dumb, while Americans call Europeans pansies and pretentious. This got me thinking about the perception in the media and in political discussions about fearing China, which at times borders on paranoia. I believe this results from a misunderstanding of Chinese motives. I have come to conceive of China as a 'younger brother' to the 'West', which is a metaphor I believe can help understand their actions and rhetoric. As a younger brother, they are now entering puberty and beginning to flex their muscles. After years of being beaten up upon, they are ready now to assert their independence, sometimes in destructive ways, but this is just part of any natural maturation process. They want to be taken seriously, but their older brothers readily dismiss them. This merely fuels their resentment. But despite all this, China does look up to its brothers. They want to be like them, but not the same as them. At the end of the day, there needs to be a recognition from both sides that China cannot be picked on anymore. Nevertheless, this doesn't mean that equal cooperation can't have fruitful results. And you know what China? I can relate.

Books - Dharma Bums by Jack Kerouac
"Who were all these strange ghosts rooted to the silly little adventure of earth with me? And who was I?"

Music - Unison by Bjork

People - John Rabe: the Nazi who saved thousands of Chinese civilians during the Rape of Nanjing

Are You Experienced? (Personal European Edition)

Wow.

The time since my last blog-post has been a whirlwind of new sights, fun nights, and great people. I am glad, though unaccustomed, to take a moment for personal reflection. I entered this leg of my study-abroad journey with hopes and apprehensions, as one would with any major change. With the passing of time over these July and August summer months, the notion has solidified in my mind that my stay here in København has become a period of my life that I regret having not in the least, and upon which I will always look back fondly, though perhaps with a tinge of sadness upon the realization of its finality. (But is it not a good sign that my emotions will be mixed? Better than to feel nothing at all. What I ask for are timeless experiences, whether 'good' or 'bad', not an unemotional passing of the days.)

My last post left off with my parent's party in Broager. The following weekend, July 16-18, I traveled to Oslo, Norway to attend Hong's birthday. Hong, along with his University buddy Tormod, had roomed with me back in Berkeley. Tormod came for the fall semester, while Hong was there for the spring. Hong had a very entertaining party, which Tormod also attended, at his apartment on that Saturday the 17th, which was followed by drinks out on the town in Oslo. At one point I ended up outside the King's palace with Tormod and had an interesting early morning conversation with one of the guards. Other highlights of the trip included Tormod showing me his dorm, which again blew me away compared to American standards, and Hong's family serving us an amazing meal at his parent's restaurant. The menu for the night included shark fin soup and a filet mignon. Needless to say I felt spoiled. It was great to see those guys, meet their families, and have locals to show me around a new city.

Regretfully I cannot remember much worth mentioning from the succeeding two weeks. My journey picked up again after I had the final exam for the first portion of my summer Danish course on July 29th. The next morning I took a bus to Berlin with a group of 6 other Americans from my program. We spent 3 nights and 3 days in the city, and it was a blast. The first night we went out to a traditional German restaurant and had sausages with potatoes and sauerkraut. We all decided to accompany our meal with a German dark beer. It may have been the best beer of my life. I know I must go back to taste that again. Over the course of our days there we saw the Brandenburg Gate, the city Cathedral, the Berlin Wall, the City's Park, and the Reichstag (a.k.a the German Parliament building and the site of Hitler's seizing of power), the highlight of which was standing at the point on the Reichstag's roof where this famous picture was taken. Berlin has great nightlife, with fun bars and clubs. It is a city I'd recommend visiting to anyone and it is probably my second favorite European city behind Copenhagen, of course.

On Monday August 2nd, I left Berlin and flew to Barcelona, then took a train to the town of Tarragona, where my childhood friend Charlie Smith had spent his summer studying. His program was set to finish on the 4th, and we had plans to travel together, along with a friend he made in Tarragona, to Amsterdam, where the rest of the group I was previously traveling with had destined themselves. Tarragona was unbearably hot and humid for this San Francisco kid, the only salvation a nearby pristine beach. There were Roman ruins there too, which of course got me excited. (If you don't know, I'm a little obsessed with Roman history.) My two days there were slow, because of the heat, but enjoyable.

We arrived in Amsterdam the night of August 4th. We stayed in a hostel right by Vondelpark. The park reminded me a bit of the panhandle/hippy hill back in San Francisco. Amsterdam is one interesting town. Some observations: the cannabis culture is pervasive, all the signs and advertisements are in English (not a good thing), the streets go in half circles and are intersected by innumerable canals thereby making it nearly impossible to navigate, and the architecture is beautiful. Visiting the Van Gogh Museum was awesome and something I'd recommend to anyone who comes to Amsterdam. We also toured the Heineken factory and enjoyed the free samples at the end. The Heini in Amsterdam tastes better than the stuff we've got in the US. Charlie and I flew back to Copenhagen on Friday the 6th, and enjoyed some much needed rest. I did provide him with some danish beer though, which we documented (for facebook) and he seemed to enjoy.

The next weekend, I flew to Budapest, Hungary to meet Julcsi, pronounced (yool-chee), a Hungarian girl from my dorm that a couple of other guys in my Danish class had gotten to know. Upon arriving at the airport, we had a bit of an inceident, where one of my fellow travelers had booked his flights one day after we had planned to leave. This put him in an unenviable position with regards to minimum class attendance, as we were already set to miss our maximum amount of days--we were skipping class on Monday and Tuesday. He was forced to join us a day late and shell out hundreds more for an early return ticket. Ouch! Julcsi kindly set us up with a hostel that happened to be her old high school dormitory, and planned out a comprehensive itinerary for our stay, including a day and night at the Hungarian music festival Sziget. With her as our local Hungarian tour guide, we saw the King's Palace, the Parliament, the square where the 1956 revolution's student protests took place, the city's Basilica, numerous quaint cafes, and fun bars at night. Sziget was boundless fun--for the first time in my life I was pulled onto the stage during a live concert! (It was during Major Lazer's set.) I do declare this trip to Hungary to be the highlight of my summer. Thanks Julcs!

Returning from Hungary left me with only one remaining weekend in Copenhagen before my flight to SFO on the 27th. I spent Saturday August 21st, my last weekend night, in much the same way as my first night, if you reference my previous post. A party was held in one of the kitchens in my dorm. This time, however, I was not an unknown surrounded by strangers. As I walked throughout the party, I saw many familiar faces from these past two months: friends from Danish class, friends who live on my floor, friends from throughout the kollegium. It was then, after a few drinks of course, that I realized how truly lucky I have been. Somehow, but in definite ways, I had managed to create for myself a sense of being at home. I will miss this place, but for the ability to have that feeling I will be eternally grateful to everyone who shared it with me. I could not have written it out better, for my first night and last (weekend) night were the perfect bookends to a storybook summer.

Books
Joseph Conrad, Heart of Darkness
"Lights of ships moved in the fairway — a great stir of lights going up and going down. And farther west on the upper reaches the place of the monstrous town was still marked ominously on the sky, a brooding gloom in sunshine, a lurid glare under the stars. 'And this also,' said Marlow suddenly, 'has been one of the dark places of the earth.'"

Music
"Suddenly is Sooner Than You Think" - Dntel

People
George Orwell
The socialist who scares more people about socialism than anyone else. (He critiqued it in order to ensure it's ultimate viability.)
I just finished 1984, then read his wikipedia entry, and discovered that he was stationed near Tarragona when he fought in the Spanish Civil War, on the communist side of course.

To Begin

So I have now spent some time in Copenhagen, the first leg of my year abroad. I consider Copenhagen to be a fun warm-up for the potentially harder-to-adjust-to countries of China and Israel.

The first night I arrived, Friday June 25, I walked to the main square, right off Hans Christian Anderson Boulevard, which seems to a major thoroughfare. I walked down the Stroget, grabbed a Polser, and a Cocio. I returned to my dorm around 2330, assuming to call it an early first night. I walked into my room and set down my bag when I heard a knock on my still open door. It was my next door neighbor, as I soon learned, and his name was Andreas. He invited me downstairs to an end-of-exams celebration being held in the dorm's party-room. I felt tired and weary of attending when I knew no one. In a split second change of heart I said yes. (I needed to meet people, didn't I?) Andreas introduced me to three of his guy friends and we went down. There were probably over a hundred drunk Danes, all dancing their stress away. I ended up meeting quite a few people in my building. New friends bought me pints of Carlesberg and I returned the favor with tequila shots. I finally went to bed at 4:30 in the morning, with the sun well on its way up from the horizon.

I have been exceptionally happy with my living situation thus far. I live in a dorm named Tietgen on the South campus of Copenhagen University (KU). In order to properly visualize this, you must keep in mind that my building is in the shape of donut, with the hole being an inner courtyard (check photos on Facebook). I have my own room with an attached full bathroom. The end of my room opens up with a sliding door, revealing a north-westerly view towards the city center. Below me lies a canal with gulls, geese, ducks, and some type of diving bird that is a pleasure to watch. Outside of my room, just across the threshold, is the common room. Down the hallway are rooms on one side, with floor-to-cielling glass windows on the other, eventually leading to a communal kitchen. It includes a television and couches, along with a view of the inner circle and the kitchens of all the other floors. The entire building is divided into housing sections based on the shared kitchens. These characteristics foster a communal feeling and make for great dorm life. I was lucky to learn that my kitchen is among the closest in the whole building and puts on shared dinners a couple times a week where we all help to prep, cook, and/or clean the meal. We then all eat together at a table. This has allowed me to quickly make friends with the people in my section, who have been so welcoming to me. Its beginning to feel like home.

I started my Danish language class on Monday the 28th. The program split us up into groups of about 10-12 students and assigned us teachers. I was placed with a young, attractive Danish women who has brought great energy to the classroom. She, like most Danes, speaks excellent English. I feel lucky to have been exposed so much to the Danish language, even if in a passive manner, for the throat and glossal sounds come easier to me than others. The pronunciation is unique and is absolutely the most difficult part of learning the language. The class lasts from 9 in the morning to 12:30 in the afternoon. Twice a week there is a structured cultural activity. The first one consisted of a sunny afternoon in the park listening to Copenhagen's Jazz Festival. I look forward to more events.

Thursday night saw the arrival of my good friend from Cal, Zach. He has spent his summer interning at an Absinthe factory in Aix-en-Provence, France. Upon arriving, he generously supplied me with a bottle of his distillery's 'good stuff.' He was up in Copenhagen for the weekend in order to attend, with me, Roskilde 2010. The Roskilde festival is an annual music festival that draws over 100,000 people. For the youth in Denmark, it marks a time of heavy drinking and great summer fun. Around the perimeter of the festival is camping, where 70,000 people stay for a whole week of messy but fun living. Zach and I only attended for one day, Saturday only. Our day began at 9am with a hearty breakfast, consisting of eggs, toast, 3 shots of absinthe and two beers, each. We took a train to the festival, where we met up with Fer from Amsterdam, who had spent a summer in our apartment in Berkeley. Our day proceeded from there, full of great music. The bands I saw were Vampire Weekend, Beach House, Pendulum, Muse, Schlacththofbronx, a bit of The Prodigy, and Moderat. The music ended at 4am, and I finally got to bed at 6am that morning.

The next day was the Fourth of July so, after I saw Zach off, we, the Americans in my Danish program, got together and put on a BBQ outside of the dorm. We had hotdogs, hamburgers, 'American Grill' chips (I had to buy them when I saw them at the grocery), and beer. I had brought an American flag with me in anticipation of a deep run by the US team in the FIFA World Cup. That didn't exactly pan out... But it did have a second life as it hung from a tree branch next to our outing! I had a good time, and I think others did too. It was a nice end to an exhausting weekend.

The following weekend, July 10-11, I visited my parents home near Broager in Southern Jutland, Denmark. It was the first time I had seen the place and it fulfilled all my expectations. I can't believe how lucky I am. My parents had an open house/welcome party to display the home to their Danish friends and the Danish side of my family from California. The party went off splendidly and it was interesting, as always, to speak and meet the Danes.

Head over to Facebook to see photos that accompany some of the above mentioned events.
I will post again when I've got something worthy to share!

Books: 'Swann's Way' by Marcel Proust
"Visiting by moonlight the roads on which I used to play as a child in the sunshine"

Music: 'Tonight, Tonight' cover by Passion Pit
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fc6z6tP20g8

People: Robert McNamara
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_McNamara
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-8653788864462752804#docid=-6733596013688235740