How to be a Dane - For dummies

by Laura Mattana

As an Erasmus student, I’ve been through all the stages of Erasmus psychosis:

Stage 1: You apply for it. You can already see yourself in a foreign country, living on your own, completely independent. Freedom smells good.

Stage 2: You realize the amount of papers you need to fill out. Enthusiasm starts dwindling. Fuck independence, you want someone else to fill them out for you.

Stage 3: You get selected. You start counting how many hours you can actually stay awake to party as much as you can and still keep on studying.

Stage 4: You realize you have even more papers to fill out than stage 2. Depression mode.

Stage 5: Papers filled out. You’re ready to go. Independence, welcome.

Stage 6: You start finding any possible reason why you shouldn’t have applied.

Stage 7: You’re there. Time is passing by so fast. You don’t want to go back home.

Yet, the main process takes place between stage 6 and 7. Something suddenly makes you switch from the I-don’t-want-to-go to the I-don’t-want-to-go-back mode.

It’s a process of myths mass destruction.

You were told Danes are always on time. Not really. I have a lot of Danish classmates who are constantly late, but they like to think they’re on-time people. It’s fine. That makes me feel an almost on-time person. My friends will laugh hard at that.

You were told Danes are detached people. Not really. If they didn’t find me dead in the river (yet), I have to thank some Danes. Especially my mentor. Thank you, Anna. Yes, I’m alive.

You were told Danes are healthy people. Like…really? Jogging 24/7 does not save you from smoking like a chimney, I’m sorry.

You were told you can actually tell how much money a Dane has from what he drinks. Well, sometimes they’re right.

You were told Danes drink a lot of coffee. How can you even call it coffee?

You were told a lot of stuff, but that’s what I am personally going to tell you:

You know you’re an exchange student in Denmark when…

…you’re wearing leggings, jeans, 2 pairs of socks and you’re still cold.

…you’re glad your phone has a calculator, so you can convert kroner to your home currency.

…the first time you spent 400 kroner you were like WHAT THE FUCK?! Then you remembered kroner are different, so you made the conversion and then you were like WHAT THE FUCK?!

…you thought that the Danish language would not be such a big deal, after all. Then you started Lærdansk courses…

TILBUD.

…you see your teachers drink and dance for the first time.

…doing the laundry is a challenge for yourself.

…you know at least two of the following: Netto, Fakta, Løvbjerg, Rema 1000, Aldi.

…you seriously need to get used to bikes ringing at you. Like “GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY WAY!”

…it’s -3° and you feel warm ’cause it was -17° the day before.

…you are going to wait until May before even thinking of getting a bike.

Friday bar.

Thursday bar.

International Night.

Dorm bar.

Sunday trip.

“Have you done your readings?” – “No.” – “Me neither.”

…any other bus rides more often than yours.

…you get pissed when a Dane suddenly starts speaking English with you ’cause he realized you’re a foreigner before even hearing you speak.

…you get pissed when a Dane starts speaking Danish with you ’cause “how the hell didn’t he notice I am not a Dane?!”

…you seriously think that your home country has to learn a lot from this country. Because it does. No matter where you are from.

I know you’ve been nodding to most of them, especially if you’re a pathologically shy Italian exchange student in Aarhus. Especially if you are me.

Take care. Be a Dane.