I’m sorry I could not write much on the bus yesterday. In the past, we would have had a foodie dinner and a wonderful conversation about my trip, but now I must email you instead:
I want you to know that Copenhagen was wonderful. Besides being smug, and leading a lifestyle that is way too overpriced, the Danes are a happy people, even if they reserve that happiness for “Members Only,” (poverty there is very sad as some of the very poor, who are mostly of Asian and Middle Eastern descent, are relegated to looking in garbage cans for recycable cans).
I must say, though, that the air was sublime. It gave me tremendous pleasure to take deep, full breaths there. This was the first time I have ever been aware of how clean and pure the air I breathe could be. From this, I can only conclude that the Danes are hardworking people, who make life not only practical (most Danes bike around the city in designated bike paths) but also efficent (their goals of being a 50% wind-powered city is on track for 2025) in their quest for quality of life.
In any case, the trip was magical for me in ways that were unexpected and unorthodox. In Copenhagen, I came full circle in several parts of my life. Now I know why I had to go, regardless of losing an online class and fearing I could not afford to travel. With that being said, here are some of the highlights of my trip:
1. On my birthday, I stepped out of a café and heard a clarinet playing “Happy Birthday” on the streets of Nyhaven, the oldest port in town.
2. Lakshmi statuary was everywhere (did I tell you that she was my latest goddess of worship?). At one point, I asked a host at an Indian restaurant if it was really her statute in his window? Curiously this is what he said to me: “Oh, so you want money? Well, if you chase it, you will never have it.” Strange message, really, because this is far from the lesson I thought Lakshmi would leave me with. But, it was the lesson I had to learn. It’s not that I was “chasing” money, but that I was irresponsible with it, thinking I was privy to it or entitled to monetary protection from a mysterious force that would provide me regardless of my recklessness with it -- and this was my subconcious way of disregarding my new status in life in which I could only be empowered by taking responsibility for all of it, including my financial decisions, which in the past were always handled by a parent, in-laws or ex-husband. The lesson came to fruition after I lost an online class and was forced to live within my means and keep track of and plan on everything I spent (of course, the trip was a reward for such diligence, and I guess this is what the Indian host in Copenhagen restaurant meant by not “chasing” money and enjoying what you have as if it is more than enough). My awareness of money has given me a newfound sense of freedom and independence related to my sense of knowing my finances. So, thank you, Lakshimi and… Goodbye.
3. A man on the street in Copenhagen called out to me and said that “I had it - the mystery - and not to over- do it because I tend to do that.” Yet another strange, coded and important celestial message. In Copenhagen, I started to come full circle with my “womanness. “ And, you know from past conversations, how that was always a struggle for me. But, in this city I was all woman. For the first time, my weight was right, regardless of what it was, and my clothes were sublime regardless of what I wore. For a long time, I have worked on knowing myself: being comfortable with my body, features, style, etc. But, in Copenhagen I started to feel a bit more like the changes I had made. So, I not only celebrated my birthday there but also celebrated being wonderful by frolicking with all the Danish woman who knew the same about themselves: I bathed naked alongside them in their bathhouses; frolicked with my barefoot toes in the parks by the port; sprawled out and took a wonderful nap on the lush grounds of the fairy-tale cemetery, Assistens Kieerkegaard, like all Danes did; and received from Danish men - with the same air of haughty indifference exhibited by their women, who acted as if they have always known what their men just noticed about their one-of-a-kind beauty - their “Ai’s.”
4. As to Finn: part of the reason I traveled to Copenhagen was because I was curious about his city. He made me want to know it, even though I had never considered Scandinavia a destination of choice. He always said Northern Europeans were different: more refined, intelligent, hard-working and nicer than the Southern ones. He resented, with a passion, the other Europe, claiming that Scandinavians didn't want anything to do with it. I did not know what to expect when I traveled there. I think I was looking for the "universal innocence" that Thoreau mentioned in his journal because I'm always looking for that. The one I have always felt and seen in my travels to the East, where people are truly genuine and authentic, regardless of their poverty. Anyway, after meeting Finn online, after our world-wind romance in Amsterdam, and after he disappeared, I thought I lost a one-of-a-kind man, but really he was a Danish cliche (Ironically, I thought he left because I was an American cliche).
I learned many things in Copenhagen and one of them was that Finn's looks are a common prototype of some of the men there: parsons nose, protruding forehead, thin lips, ruddy red skin tone, deep blue eyes. He was everywhere. And so were philosophies, ideas, inspirations: his goal to make his small town solely wind-powered driven is at the heart of the national objective to make the entire country "green" (I thought he was a visionary with new age plans for his small indistinct town); his passion for hunting is a pastime of the Danish gentility (I thought he was a rebellious, wild hunter from the days of Hemingway); his search for a princess from across the seas is inspired by Han Christian's Anderson's "Little Mermaid" whose statute sits on a rock at the seaport contemplating her prince. Ironically, she looked away from the direction of her knight with shining armor. Lastly, I did not consider the people as "nice" as he said they were. As a matter of fact, I considered them mean and misleading, as on several occasions I was given information that led me astray, like at the airport when I asked what train to take to get into Copenhagen and the guide said that any train would do. But, Danes are good at seeming a certain way when in all actuality they hide their real motivations and feelings. And, all this is neatly and carefully hidden behind a facade of a fairy-tale looking life, with its pretty flowers, castles, quaint churches, minimal statuary, bright colorful houses, organized, clean streets.
Okay, Monique, thanks for listening. I know you also have a birthday coming up, and I wish you love, lots of travel, wealth, health and a life filled with wonderful surprises.
4. As to Finn: part of the reason I traveled to Copenhagen was because I was curious about his city. He made me want to know it, even though I had never considered Scandinavia a destination of choice. He always said Northern Europeans were different: more refined, intelligent, hard-working and nicer than the Southern ones. He resented, with a passion, the other Europe, claiming that Scandinavians didn't want anything to do with it. I did not know what to expect when I traveled there. I think I was looking for the "universal innocence" that Thoreau mentioned in his journal because I'm always looking for that. The one I have always felt and seen in my travels to the East, where people are truly genuine and authentic, regardless of their poverty. Anyway, after meeting Finn online, after our world-wind romance in Amsterdam, and after he disappeared, I thought I lost a one-of-a-kind man, but really he was a Danish cliche (Ironically, I thought he left because I was an American cliche).
I learned many things in Copenhagen and one of them was that Finn's looks are a common prototype of some of the men there: parsons nose, protruding forehead, thin lips, ruddy red skin tone, deep blue eyes. He was everywhere. And so were philosophies, ideas, inspirations: his goal to make his small town solely wind-powered driven is at the heart of the national objective to make the entire country "green" (I thought he was a visionary with new age plans for his small indistinct town); his passion for hunting is a pastime of the Danish gentility (I thought he was a rebellious, wild hunter from the days of Hemingway); his search for a princess from across the seas is inspired by Han Christian's Anderson's "Little Mermaid" whose statute sits on a rock at the seaport contemplating her prince. Ironically, she looked away from the direction of her knight with shining armor. Lastly, I did not consider the people as "nice" as he said they were. As a matter of fact, I considered them mean and misleading, as on several occasions I was given information that led me astray, like at the airport when I asked what train to take to get into Copenhagen and the guide said that any train would do. But, Danes are good at seeming a certain way when in all actuality they hide their real motivations and feelings. And, all this is neatly and carefully hidden behind a facade of a fairy-tale looking life, with its pretty flowers, castles, quaint churches, minimal statuary, bright colorful houses, organized, clean streets.
Okay, Monique, thanks for listening. I know you also have a birthday coming up, and I wish you love, lots of travel, wealth, health and a life filled with wonderful surprises.
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