Dansk humor: a matter of mastery

If I had to say what it is the most difficult thing of living in Denmark as a foreigner coming from Spain, I would say the humor. Oh, yeah, it is easy everyone can make some fun using irony but it’s not the kind of irony Alanis Morissette sang about. Believe or not, you’ll never find such a way of twisting words and meanings as here.

Poster in Nørrebro (Copenhagen). Picture taken from pernille.typad.com

Is it bad? No, it’s other way of interacting. I must confess that sometimes is hard to realize if Danes are just trying to be nice or they are simply rude. It’s like a play-role. One takes the role of the joker and you, as foreigner, play the role of the stupid who doesn’t understand.

In the south we are more direct. Of course we use sarcasm but we are amateurs in front of that levels achieved by centuries of practice. My advice is, if you come to Denmark, to be yourself and try to fit in little by little.

I remember one night when a group of Spaniards we were having dinner with a Dane. In some moment he yelled “Arriba España” (Up Spain or long live Spain). It had been nice if we wouldn’t have these problems of identifying national pride with fascism in Spain. All of us stared at him in shock expecting that such a sign of inappropriate free expression was caused by his lack of awareness. The thing is that the Dane he did know about that and he made it on purpose. Days after, when we were informed about that, we yelled “what kind of humor is that? It’s not funny if you don’t share it”. Well, maybe it’s the Danish humor way.

Anyway, I think I’d like to know all the tips and keys behind this way of making fun and impress people around the world with such a humor. In the meantime I’m just trying to learn the grassroots in order to mingle with more Danish people. And, for sure, it’s not like to put foreigners on the line and make them to say rødgrød med fløde, the national tongue-twister.

The rotten apple in Denmark

One of the premises on which Danish society is based is freedom. It is the grassroots of the system. Freedom doesn’t mean to do whatever you want, but to be able of doing whatever you want. In order to fit in it is important to follow this principle.

Recently I was chatting in the kitchen of my dormitory with some pals, all of them foreigners as me, about how we perceive Danish people and Denmark in general. We reached different opinions. And I remember I explained and important concept in all the Nordic culture to my mates in order to show them my point of view. Janteloven or the Law of Jante, a non-written law very present in the northern countries minds.

In general terms, it can be said that the Law of Jante is the biggest example of why Nordic culture is based on community behavior against individualism. Living in a country does not only mean to reside in a place of earth delimited by borders, but also to be part of the society. Here are the ten principles of Janteloven.

-          You're not to think you are anything special.

-          You're not to think you are as good as us.

-          You're not to think you are smarter than us.

-          You're not to convince yourself that you are better than us.

-          You're not to think you know more than us.

-          You're not to think you are more important than us.

-          You're not to think you are good at anything.

-          You're not to laugh at us.

-          You're not to think anyone cares about you.

-          You're not to think you can teach us anything

Basically it says, move your ass from individualism and rich yourself and do something for the community. But… Here is the problem. Denmark is a multicultural country where diversity is one its biggest appeals.  So, it is difficult to understand for the most of us who come here.

One would be observed as a newbie in the city. Because it’s not about only individualism, also about being different. It’s not a coincidence the fact that the big majority of Danish young students look alike. Same haircuts, brands, colors, expressions. Sometimes being different means being out of the loop.

Be quiet, dress as they do, behave as they do, drink as they do, say what they say, never critic their system, don’t do anything that can piss them off and try to learn Danish. Then, you’ll be, not a Dane, but a foreigner completely integrated. Otherwise you’ll be the rotten apple which spoils the whole country. 

Antiquity but with responsibility

I’ve always said that old is not a bad word. People can be old too; not only furniture or Greek temples have that right. And being and old tenant in a dorm is an experience. No, promise that this not about newbies, veterans and merciless punishments. In a Danish dorm or kollegium, as they say, being old, in terms of for how long one’s been living there, gives to one the possibility of behaving as Papa Smurf.

For sure, you can take a Kim Jong-il leading the dorm and imposing respect to the freshmen or even being as bitchy as Angela Channing in Falcon Crest but it won’t work. Danish dorms have an especial environment. So big and with so few activities to mingle that nobody gives a shit about the neighbor does.

There are some parties or some people get jealous because others do but that’s all. However, if you’re the veteran doesn’t mean that the rest are going to show respect to you but at least interest in your knowledge. “Where can I buy a bike?” or “Is there any place to scan?”.

God knows how much I would like to be like a TV-series character saying “you rock, you’re a pussy” but that’s not the Korallen style. Here in Denmark is still very present Janteloven or Law of Jante, which in basics tells society to be humble. Otherwise, you’ll be marginalized. It seems Roskilde University and Denmark in general still constructs their dorms and other residential places in the image and likeness of pretexts of the Law of Jante.

Why I love and hate Fakta at the same time: A sociological study of Danish society through analysis of supermarkets

I always thought that there’s nothing more representative of the culture of a country than its supermarkets. Well, maybe it’s not the most representative but it’s still good enough. And among all the supermarkets in Denmark (which most of them are under the same company), there is one on concrete. We could define it by its appearance, by its prices or even by the quality but that would be easy. Let’s name it: Fakta.

Faktas forsiden: www.fakta.dk

What we like: Atmosphere. Fast, kitsch and from the neighborhood. No time to talk, no compromise. Just get your products and go back to the ghetto, or the kollegium in case you live there. But that’s good because when one of the cashiers tried starting a conversation with you all your life seems to be fulfilled.

What we don’t like: Awkward range of products. If you suffer of alcoholism today is your lucky day, unless you don’t drink wine. So, I must say you’d better be a classy alcoholic because Fakta counts with a big corridor of this reddish gold. From South Africa to Spain, including cherry wine (is that wine?). But Fakta runs out of pasta, tuna or everything else.

What we like: Varieté. Visiting once a week is an adventure. You never know what to expect. Today may be protein whey powder, tomorrow a sewing-machine and the next day a costume-set. There so kitsch small treasures that when you see them you understand the Stendhal’s syndrome. Sometimes clothes. I don’t need them at all but I need all of them at the same time.

What we don’t like: Varieté II. Yes, it’s funny to have all these small things which increase your frivolous shopping mind but it’s not that good when the product you’re looking for, and you saw yesterday, today it’s not in Fakta anymore. Mouthwash which comes and easy goes, rubber gloves seeming to vanish or no rice when last week there were plenty. As Larra said once, “come back tomorrow”.

What we like: Child-friendly. I’m not a child anymore but I still envy when I see those infants pulling a small trolley with a Fakta flag on the top. Don’t misunderstand me, I don’t like children, actually I hate them, but I think all the supermarkets must have these kind of entertainment things. I would use them if society wasn’t so conservative.

What we don’t like:  PAN system. I know, it’s something common to most of the supermarkets in Denmark. But I still can’t pass around without smell a mix of wine and beer. I want to do my grocery shopping in a store, not in a highway bar taken from a cheap film. Now I understand Denmark has a problem of alcoholism. Kids accompanying their parents to buy sniff that since their childhood.

From a sociological point of view, a research about population’s tastes, lifestyles and consume can be taken in a supermarket. Read this before coming to Denmark.

PS. Be careful with the expiring date. Sometimes out of date.

PS2. Pay attention to two words that can save your life or at least your shopping: Bazar and tilbud.

Odense y su catálogo de peripecias

Recién vuelto de Odense, no puedo decir otro fin de semana en Odense. No es otro. Es uno nuevo. Siempre algo distinto cada vez que voy. No existe una rutina porque encuentro miles de cosas que hacer y, gracias a los cielos, no es solo turismo. Cuando estás en una ciudad los primeros días son turismo, los siguientes cosas más habituales, a continuación fiesta y finalmente la vida diaria. Así es como uno vive los lugares que visita. Haciendo de la rutina de otros algo nuevo.

No, todavía no he perdido la cabeza y ni padezco algún tipo de demencia. Odense es más que Andersen y su hermoso teatrillo al lado de la casa. He estado investigando con células y proteinas en un laboratorio, he estado a la hora de cierre de Tommy Hilfiger, he ayudado en una pizzería.

He descubierto una parte de Dinamarca que no conocía. Con mi altiva mirada observaba la fiesta danesa. Vale, yo vengo de Madrid y soy una generación consecuencia de valores desarrollados tras La Movida y la sensación es diferente cuando eres un estudiante de intercambio en tu burbuja internacional. Así todo es más light. Es bajo en calorías de fiesta. Se necesita un nativo al que no le importe que seas estudiante. Se necesitan amigos daneses que te muestren la verdad. Y lo cierto es que puedes quedarte hasta las 7 am celebrando un sábado. Pensaba que era algo de la calle Huertas de Madrid, de Malasaña o de Tribunal. Sin embargo, el tono de la fiesta todavía sigue siendo un poco distinto.

Ahora, atención al dato, lo que más me sorprende es algo tan normal y corriente, incluso insulso para un español, como es la bolera. Me dijeron "vamos a la bolera a las 11". Pensé que era un poco tarde para un plan así. También pensé que la bolera la dejé atrás cuando yo superé la preadolescencia. Pero no, es un lugar bastante variopinto. Música a todo volumen, luces de discoteca, copas y un ambiente festivo. Nada que ver con lo que estoy acostumbrado a ver. Yo sólo recuerdo a las entrenadas señoras mayores de mi barrio derribar bolos con movimientos aprendidos durantes años de experiencia, a niños que empiezan a salir y los cumpleaños celebrados en la bolera con perritos calientes y hamburguesas. Curiosa forma la de Dinamarca de reconvertir el concepto ocio sano en algo aún más lúdico.

Y es que los daneses, hacen del deporte y del ocio indoor algo más festivo y loco.

Nobody said it'd be easy - II

13:15. That was the expected hour for the plane to take off.

21:30. That’s the hour when I eventually got aboard on the plane.

23:27. When I’m writing these lines.

Flight Malaga - Madrid - Copenhagen. Fifth capture after other passengers appeared on the previous ones 

I’ve just had my last meal of the day. In fact I don’t know if it was dinner or, as the Danes say, natsmad. I must recognize the fact that SAS (Scandinavian Airlines is not cool enough) provided us with food and drinks all the time. Not only the whole lunch, but also during the afternoon: Snacks (e.g. chicken sandwich) and drinks. SAS is not cheap at all, neither bighearted for sure.

Nevertheless two meals it’s not enough to kill that much time. I think I checked all the stores at least once, some twice and others even three times. My bag is full of testers for perfumes and in an irrational impulse I deceive myself. My last acquisition is Luna Rosa by Prada. A 50ml bottle of pure good smell for sportsmen and, why not, for me.

Ok, I’m cheating myself. I forgot that my last acquisition is a magazine I hadn’t bought before I thought it was too frivolous and lacked of any interest apart from the give-hopes-to-fatty-people field. It’s “Men’s Health’. Worldwide known and for my surprise the Spanish edition is good enough. Something uncommon in print media.

Spanish edition of the magazine Men's Health. It's quite good.

And it’s because not only deal with fitness and diet as the very only topics –there are an uncountable number of them-, and neither because it includes style, personal care and leisure. It’s due to the fresh and unserious, journalistic way of writing. I’ve found more journalistic key skills its pages than in the Danish tabloid BT that I read this noon while I was wondering why the plane wasn’t taking off.

Now, relocated in a flight from Malaga to Copenhagen with stop in Madrid and surrounded by Danes, Swedes, Spaniards and some expatriates, I’m finishing my last lines. But I bear in mind that we’re expected to arrive at one o’clock. I didn’t know that Denmark was still awake at that time. Maybe I knew that, but I forgot it because of the last three weeks in Madrid. “La ciudad más divertida del mundo”.

Danes make fun and laugh at the airport assistant because they don’t know how to pronounce their efternavner in a proper way, without keeping in mind that they have such a difficult language. Swedes just speak their funny language and ask all the time how will arrive to Stockholm if they have already lost the connection. Spaniards… Well, they behave as always. We recognize each other. It’s easy for us. And the expatriates carry with noisy children. I’m so desolated. TGTS – Thanks God They are Sleeping.

PS. I must confess that some minutes ago I was a little sneaky. The flight attendants handed out some sandwiches. Since I read they have a vegetarian menu, I decided to test SAS service. I received a lomo sandwich (is there any real English word for that back meat?). I don’t like it at all and, concerned about my shape –fatty food– and conscious of my hate to cheese, I asked the flight attendant for a vegan sandwich, which means non-coming from an animal food. So, I would avoid lomo and cheese at once and I could eat something healthier. She just answered “let me check it”. Three minutes later, she’s back with a vegetarian, including cheese, sandwich. Afterwards not even the sandwich could’ve been under my control today.

Nobody said it'd be easy - I

It’s been a long time since I wrote the last post.  At first I wanted to write about why my expectations weren’t completed. And why my initial points of view changed after the first days in Madrid. Anyway my perception blew up last night. Being an expatriate is not easy. You make a change in your life buy your acquaintances don’t. Your life-rhythm is still in evolution if not it reached the top of a different level but your whole surround goes on with their same lives. However you expect something else, something different and you feel disappointed if you aren’t mature enough.

15:08. Now I’m supposed to be on a plane, flying to Copenhagen and full of happiness to be back in Roskilde. Airports, aircraft and all the air things are not as efficient as we would like them to be, so because of that I’m finishing my lunch in a trendy but stinky cafeteria in the Terminal 2. Beef, fries, salad and a rotten apple. That’s my lunch. No, it’s not a good beginning for my way back.

18:16 But the main question is what to do? Just go around the duty free stores. They aren’t as duty free as they presume to be. I can find better bargains outside. The poor Spaniard is back. Perfumes, clothes, chocolates. Nothing interesting at all. If only they would sell a sharp knife to use when you feel self-aggressive whilst waiting for your delayed flight.  That’s because of a terrible headache. A group of fourteen Portuguese people clapping, yelling and noising but also making a drinking beer competition. And don’t mention the children in the short period on the plane. Crying, crying, crying. I didn’t want to fly with damn kids.

Then, just wait. Because if my plane even takes off soon and I get Copenhagen, I will still have a long train-journey from Kastrup Airport to Trekoner, and carry with my suitcase up-hill to Korallen. Danish protestant God why do you hate me so much?