Two sides of København

We spent our final three days in København, also known as Copenhagen. Because of a contact made through Craig's List, we shared an apartment in Nørrebro. Nørrebro is located outside the historic central city, the area in which the main palaces, museums, and tourist attractions are located. Nørrebro is a multi-ethnic, diverse community living in large apartment buildings with small appartments that are affordable and increasingly hip. The area is noted for a series of riots, mainly inspired by left-wing activities, over the years that continue to give, particularly to Danes who do not live there, the region an edgy character. As opposed to the downtown public art which tends to follow a classic format (isn't that David supposed to be in Italy?), public art veers strongly toward graffiti.





But Nørrebro provided us with a much fuller sense of the city than had we stayed only within the confines of the canals, the packed streets and bars of Nyhavn, or the city's monuments. It provided a sense of a vibrant city, struggling with issues of diversity and giving voice to those who would question if Denmark is really the "happiest country" in the world. Denmark is a dynamic and changing country with some, if not all, of the tensions that arise from being part of a global world while trying to maintain one's sense of the village. Beyond the monuments are the people: brides celebrating marriage at the new opera house, commuters on the "S" train with their bicycles, couples rowing across the canal to grab lunch at a restaurant...all these form part of the fabric of which we, for a short time, have been part.

Castles

Bodil, another of Charlotte's cousins, took us to visit Frederiksborg, a castle complex built for the most part in the 17th century. It served as the palace for Danish kings until plague, fire and "rampaging Swedes" moved the seat of power to another site, Fredensborg which is still in use by the royal family. Frederiksborg was restored in the past century with funds provided by the head of Carlsborg beer (ahhh, the importance of breweries in Denmark stretches far) and then it became a museum of national history.



The architecture and the art are stunning and overwhelming. But the experience provides a sense of the historical continuity that Danes must possess. The monarchy stretches back to the 10th century and, in spite of wars and the country's small size, it has survived and prospered, defining its own place in the world. The churches, the museums, the castles and the present monarch herself, Queen Margrethe, all symbolize but are also in and of themselves the continuity that forms this nation. And portraits of the Queen on the castle's third level provide a visual link between past and present...just as her children and grandchildren point to the future of the state.

On the farm

We arrived at Erik's farm on Falster during harvest time. Erik and Charlotte are cousins; Falster is one of the larger Danish islands in the south, across a stretch of the Baltic Sea from Germany. Harvest time is determined on a daily basis by the absence or presence of rain. And the sun was out and the ripe grain was dry.After all, Denmark is not just landscape and castles and trains that run on time and social programs. Denmark is about work. So Erik and Mikael, one of his workers, were preparing the combine to harvest the wheat.



But still there was time for talk and for art, visiting churches and the new art museum, Fuglsang (Birdsong), that Erik had helped to build on a nearby island. So we drove pasts fields of grain and berries and hops to see the museum. A fine structure. But the museum windows open out onto those same fields of wheat and grains which have been the basis of the island's prosperity over the centuries. Providing the wealth for the creation of its churches, its people, and its museums.

North Sea

The North Sea forms the western coast of Jylland (Jutland) and we drove out one day to see the coast. The water is cold and very rough. Danish and German tourists seldom venture into the waves, but on the few sunny, warm days sunbath on the beach. The high dunes that border the sea have a wild, natural appearance. Small towns cluster on higher ground; summer cottages fill on the land side of the dunes.




The first jetties were built to protect the shore line in 1875...currently beach replenishment takes place every fall and spring to keep the sea from flooding the low lands just behind the dunes. I had always associated this kind of long term struggle with the sea with the Netherlands' dikes. But it has taken place all along the Dutch, German, Danish coast...the North Sea is a dangerous part of the Atlantic.

Yet here we found small museums, art galleries, sculpture gardens. A festival was coming to an historic lighthouse which now serves those purposes. Tourists were being given a chance for a fee to rappel down the light house tower while a folk song and dance troup were rehearsing for the circus that was to take place the next day. The light house museum cafe had superb open face sandwiches and a good wine list (excellent cafes are standard in almost all Danish museums). It is as if a line of culture presents a brave face to the wilds of the ocean.

Interiors

There is a well-known sense of Scandinavian design of buildings, houses, homes and furnishings. It is said that some Scandinavian architects work first on the chairs and tables and then design a home around them. An exaggeration, perhaps, but still there is a clear sense of design...after all, that is what IKEA is about, no?





In looking just in the homes in which we have stayed, there is a sense of order, of clean lines, of large glass windows or walls opening to the outside (light is important especially in winter when there is little of it), a few, not many, fine pieces of furniture, art, pottery. And, of course, books.



The current house we are in is an apartment in Norre Bro, a densely packed, diverse neighborhood north of the central tourist district. We are staying with Peter who with his girlfriend has just combined two small units into one...even here with a lot of work ahead of them, the apartment reflects color, light and humor in its furnishings and art.

Farmily

So, yes, our voyage is about family, about genetic, historical and emotional connections, both in Norway and in Denmark. There are the immediate generational connections to cousins (coming from the same parents two or three generations back) and to cousins' children. Kinship is traced through pictures, through memories of previous visits both here and in the United States, through forebears who immigrated and forebears who immigrated and then came back. So we count the genealogies linking Charlotte to Erik and his wife Helga, to Bodil, and to their children and to their children's children.

But then there are also new links to families we just begin to know to Lene and Joern (with whom we have exchanged houses and neighbors) and to their siblings Annette and Henne and friend Karin. New connections...which given time may expand also and grow. These are the connections that deepen with time and go far beyond the impressions of cities and towns and landscapes and weather. And which make voyages lasting parts of who we are.

Rain

I'm not sure that I mentioned before that it does rain in Denmark. But rain does not interrupt the flow of the day. In Arhus when it rains, the clothing stores on the main streets do not bring the outside racks in except for a truly heavy downpour. After all, prospective buyers need to see how the clothes will look when they are wet. And, perhaps like the Pacific northwest in the winter, one lives with the expectation of rain...we've learned to carry umbrellas and raincoats when we set out on the brightest and sunniest of mornings. Rain may dampen spirits, especially in summer when the wheat needs to be brought in (more on that later), but it does not get in the way of outdoor activities nor the laughter of children playing in it (in their rain gear of course). Or from standing under umbrellas or on the very front of the small ferry as we cross from one island to another.