NAS & DAMIAN "JR GONG" MARLEY DISTANT RELATIVES preview from nabil elderkin on Vimeo.
While I'm loving Europe and all, I'd give anything to be in Austin this week for some free shows, warm weather, and goddamn breakfast tacos.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
sxswahhh.
SXSW kicked off today, and its first surprise show came from Nas and Damian Marley at Levi's/Fader Fort (which hosted Kanye's surprise appearance last year). This is one of the acts that excited me most this year, even from 5000 miles away.
While I'm loving Europe and all, I'd give anything to be in Austin this week for some free shows, warm weather, and goddamn breakfast tacos.
While I'm loving Europe and all, I'd give anything to be in Austin this week for some free shows, warm weather, and goddamn breakfast tacos.
Monday, March 15, 2010
the little successes carry you through life.
Today I found my new favorite belt at a thrift shop for 10 kroner (less than $2), got an A on my law paper, uploaded pictures, skipped class, explored Vesterbro, and enjoyed the sunshine. I have yet to study for the test I have tomorrow, but you can't say I didn't have a productive day.
Friday, February 19, 2010
Lesson in blogging efficiency.
Here are some things I've been obsessed with in the past month spent here:
1. Dark chocolate, marzipan, Nutella...
I've tried to curb my consumption, but something tells me I will be dying a slow, delicious death from sugar. It's bad when you've abandoned any concept of Nutella as a spread and simply eat it by the spoonful.
2. Jens Lekman.
Oh Swedish man, why are you not touring in your homeland of Scandinavia? The world makes no sense.
3. Danish hot dogs.
Never before have I had so many condiments in one bite, but it is so worth the multiple heart attacks to come. These put New York hot dog stands to shame.
4. Danish pastries.
If you think they look good, wait til you smell them everywhere on the streets of Copenhagen, especially at 3:00 in the morning - it is incredible.
5. Finding little unique spots in the city.
Ok, I might have tacked this on to make myself feel better for the fact that 3 out of my 5 "obsessions" were food. At the same time though, #5 represents perhaps the truest of my obsessions. In a city as homogeneous as Copenhagen, it is extremely exciting to find local dives or areas with real character and individuality. Which is why Nørrebro and Christiania stand out in my memory as unique places to hang out. The debate on the increasing "problem" of migration in Denmark has centered mostly around how foreigners are perceived as a threat to Danish culture, and while I understood this viewpoint upon first arriving and experiencing the novelty of Danish society, the multi-ethnic neighborhoods and areas not strictly 'Danish' or European have offered the most refreshing view into the city.
Things I've missed in the past month:
1. Television. I'm not a huge TV watcher, but the fact that the Olympics are halfway over and I have yet to watch a single event is literally killing me. The TV in our bloc is broken and/or missing; in addition, Danes simply don't seem to care about the Olympics. Out at a pub, they were playing everything but the Olympics: football, hockey, even an old movie at one point (who goes to a pub to watch a movie?). Also, I simply miss being able to have the TV on in the background every so often. BBC World to keep me just a little more informed when I don't have time to read the news. The Food Network too, although I think the adventures that go down in our kitchen are more than enough for a program of its own. Speaking of which, I made pasta carbonara yesterday! Without pancetta, but Danish bacon as a substitute ain't too shabby.
2. Speaking the native language. Sure, Danes all speak impeccable English, some better than Americans I know, but Danish is very much the national language. Even with the knowledge that you could just initiate a conversation in English, it is very alienating to be unable to understand the conversations around you, the announcements on the train, the nutrition facts on the cereal you buy. However, it's also reinspired my desire to learn languages and stressed the importance of language as a bridge into a culture. I speak Chinese to my parents now whenever they call. I talk to Chinese students I meet doing laundry in my kollegium. I try out the little Danish I've learned on the Danes I live with. I have conversations with students from Spain (though they usually want to improve their English, so it generally becomes Spanglish).
It seems I like a lot more things than I've missed in the past month. I'll take that as a good sign for the coming months.
1. Dark chocolate, marzipan, Nutella...
I've tried to curb my consumption, but something tells me I will be dying a slow, delicious death from sugar. It's bad when you've abandoned any concept of Nutella as a spread and simply eat it by the spoonful.
2. Jens Lekman.
Oh Swedish man, why are you not touring in your homeland of Scandinavia? The world makes no sense.
3. Danish hot dogs.
Never before have I had so many condiments in one bite, but it is so worth the multiple heart attacks to come. These put New York hot dog stands to shame.
4. Danish pastries.
5. Finding little unique spots in the city.
Ok, I might have tacked this on to make myself feel better for the fact that 3 out of my 5 "obsessions" were food. At the same time though, #5 represents perhaps the truest of my obsessions. In a city as homogeneous as Copenhagen, it is extremely exciting to find local dives or areas with real character and individuality. Which is why Nørrebro and Christiania stand out in my memory as unique places to hang out. The debate on the increasing "problem" of migration in Denmark has centered mostly around how foreigners are perceived as a threat to Danish culture, and while I understood this viewpoint upon first arriving and experiencing the novelty of Danish society, the multi-ethnic neighborhoods and areas not strictly 'Danish' or European have offered the most refreshing view into the city.
Things I've missed in the past month:
1. Television. I'm not a huge TV watcher, but the fact that the Olympics are halfway over and I have yet to watch a single event is literally killing me. The TV in our bloc is broken and/or missing; in addition, Danes simply don't seem to care about the Olympics. Out at a pub, they were playing everything but the Olympics: football, hockey, even an old movie at one point (who goes to a pub to watch a movie?). Also, I simply miss being able to have the TV on in the background every so often. BBC World to keep me just a little more informed when I don't have time to read the news. The Food Network too, although I think the adventures that go down in our kitchen are more than enough for a program of its own. Speaking of which, I made pasta carbonara yesterday! Without pancetta, but Danish bacon as a substitute ain't too shabby.
2. Speaking the native language. Sure, Danes all speak impeccable English, some better than Americans I know, but Danish is very much the national language. Even with the knowledge that you could just initiate a conversation in English, it is very alienating to be unable to understand the conversations around you, the announcements on the train, the nutrition facts on the cereal you buy. However, it's also reinspired my desire to learn languages and stressed the importance of language as a bridge into a culture. I speak Chinese to my parents now whenever they call. I talk to Chinese students I meet doing laundry in my kollegium. I try out the little Danish I've learned on the Danes I live with. I have conversations with students from Spain (though they usually want to improve their English, so it generally becomes Spanglish).
It seems I like a lot more things than I've missed in the past month. I'll take that as a good sign for the coming months.
Monday, February 15, 2010
god mondag på nørrebro.
Mondays are long - class runs from 8:30 in the morning to 6 in the evening, with a scant few hours tossed in as a break. While it sounds torturous, Mondays usually also tend to be the most productive and pass most quickly, usually with the aid of coffee and plenty of work with which to occupy the time.
Today was an especially busy Monday as I had done absolutely no work over the weekend (yet a day trip to Sweden and consumption of far too much beer were clearly a priority). It has been enormously difficult to get anything productive done here, let alone anything for the real world, such as job applications and making plans for the future. Which is why I was so proud when I successfully finished and faxed out my application for an internship at NPR today, just before going to class at the University of Copenhagen. Despite the near impossibility of actually getting it, it was such a sense of achievement to actually finish something tangible and put myself out there. If anything, the fact that it was such a reach freed me more to be myself, since the main concern for me was not actually getting the post but finishing something that was true to myself.
Though I scrambled with my limited time frame between classes, the finished product I faxed out at least felt complete, something I could be satisfied with. Walking to class afterwards was refreshing, revitalizing, even though I was already 15 minutes late (but as it's a 3-hour lecture course, 15 minutes is negligible). It was nice to be back in the city, out in the fresh air and snow, being frustrated at the general absence of pedestrian right-of-way but at the same time not all too worried about the delay.
After class (which was actually quite interesting in covering torture and transitional justice, concepts I had been introduced to in South Africa), an evening of celebratory unwinding was in order. I met up with friends close by in the city where we enjoyed a highly affordable Mediterranean buffet. The American love for all things cheap and all things all-you-can-eat combined with the fact that we hadn't eaten since 11 o'clock led us to shovel our food with no mercy, much to the horror of our cruelly outnumbered European friend.
Following an overindulgent feast (complete with wine and dessert), we trekked to Nørrebro, a district known for its multi-ethnic community in a city of daunting homogeneity. A sketchier part of town, where some of our first welcoming sights included "Satan" graffitied on the walls, but one with definite character and much to offer to locals and visitors alike.
We went to a bar called Cafe Blågårds Apotek, where there's live jazz music and free entry on Mondays. Inside, it was crowded and warm, a haven from the frigid evening; the music was vibrant, atmosphere was cozy, and a good time seemed to be had by all. Hip, friendly bartenders greeted us with refreshing beers and engaging banter; the intimate environment made it feel more like sharing a living room with old and new friends alike than being out on the town.
In total, I spent around 15 hours in the city today, and while I was exhausted upon finally returning home for the first time since 7:30 AM, it was a god mondag.
Today was an especially busy Monday as I had done absolutely no work over the weekend (yet a day trip to Sweden and consumption of far too much beer were clearly a priority). It has been enormously difficult to get anything productive done here, let alone anything for the real world, such as job applications and making plans for the future. Which is why I was so proud when I successfully finished and faxed out my application for an internship at NPR today, just before going to class at the University of Copenhagen. Despite the near impossibility of actually getting it, it was such a sense of achievement to actually finish something tangible and put myself out there. If anything, the fact that it was such a reach freed me more to be myself, since the main concern for me was not actually getting the post but finishing something that was true to myself.
Though I scrambled with my limited time frame between classes, the finished product I faxed out at least felt complete, something I could be satisfied with. Walking to class afterwards was refreshing, revitalizing, even though I was already 15 minutes late (but as it's a 3-hour lecture course, 15 minutes is negligible). It was nice to be back in the city, out in the fresh air and snow, being frustrated at the general absence of pedestrian right-of-way but at the same time not all too worried about the delay.
After class (which was actually quite interesting in covering torture and transitional justice, concepts I had been introduced to in South Africa), an evening of celebratory unwinding was in order. I met up with friends close by in the city where we enjoyed a highly affordable Mediterranean buffet. The American love for all things cheap and all things all-you-can-eat combined with the fact that we hadn't eaten since 11 o'clock led us to shovel our food with no mercy, much to the horror of our cruelly outnumbered European friend.
Following an overindulgent feast (complete with wine and dessert), we trekked to Nørrebro, a district known for its multi-ethnic community in a city of daunting homogeneity. A sketchier part of town, where some of our first welcoming sights included "Satan" graffitied on the walls, but one with definite character and much to offer to locals and visitors alike.
We went to a bar called Cafe Blågårds Apotek, where there's live jazz music and free entry on Mondays. Inside, it was crowded and warm, a haven from the frigid evening; the music was vibrant, atmosphere was cozy, and a good time seemed to be had by all. Hip, friendly bartenders greeted us with refreshing beers and engaging banter; the intimate environment made it feel more like sharing a living room with old and new friends alike than being out on the town.
In total, I spent around 15 hours in the city today, and while I was exhausted upon finally returning home for the first time since 7:30 AM, it was a god mondag.
Monday, January 25, 2010
(This Bird Has Flown)
These days I feel like I'm not even in school. Granted half of my classes have not begun yet, but for now I often find myself with hours to spend exploring the world around me.
My only class today finished at 10, and I was left with an entire day ahead of me without assignments or engagements. On top of this sense of complete freedom, it was a beautiful day - the sun was out in its full glory (only its third appearance since I've arrived). Savoring the extra vitamin D, I wandered away from the busy city centre toward the quiet streets of north Copenhagen. Through the snow-covered Royal Gardens and beyond to the small streets lined with colorfully painted apartments and finally reaching the distinctive yellow buildings of Nyboder - I walked and walked, taking photographs of charming scenes, storing still-lifes in my memory along the way.
A couple of hours later, I could no longer feel my ears. Longing for a haven where I could rest and read, I stumbled upon Hovedbiblioteket, Copenhagen's Central Library. Inside I found a modern building bustling with people of all ages and backgrounds, less like a library and more a center of activity. Even better, I found a respectable collection of literature in English. Imagine my joy when I discovered they had included in their collection a number of books by Murakami, whom I had just gotten into before leaving home. I had plowed through half of Kafka on the Shore before I had to give it up since it was a library copy.
The Hovedbiblioteket did not have Kafka, so I picked up a copy of Norwegian Wood instead, settled myself in an empty chair, and read for hours, just as Murakami's Kafka did. In many ways, I found myself in his characters. There was a certain shared sense of isolation from being in a new place without the comforts of old friends and family, without the connections that come so easily in familiar places. And in a sense, this is Murakami's greatest achievement - the idea that we are all connected in our solitude, that despite our great loneliness at times, we are all living in the same world, subject to the same humanity.
I read and read until hunger beckoned me home to cook dinner. Without an official Danish ID yet and thus unable to check out books, I simply took note of my page number and returned the book to the shelf, looking forward to the next time I would be reacquainted with it.
Days here like this one have been simple, healthier, stripped of the excesses and easy distractions of life at home. Having been without power in my room for the past several days save for one desk lamp and two outlets, I've gotten used to using less electricity. I take showers in the dark. I don't cook with salt simply because there isn't any in the kitchen and I can do without it. I read during the day, go to class for a few hours, walk, explore the city, travel on the weekends, socialize in the evenings, and all in all lead a pretty simple life here. It might change in the coming weeks, but for now, life's never been so peaceful.
My only class today finished at 10, and I was left with an entire day ahead of me without assignments or engagements. On top of this sense of complete freedom, it was a beautiful day - the sun was out in its full glory (only its third appearance since I've arrived). Savoring the extra vitamin D, I wandered away from the busy city centre toward the quiet streets of north Copenhagen. Through the snow-covered Royal Gardens and beyond to the small streets lined with colorfully painted apartments and finally reaching the distinctive yellow buildings of Nyboder - I walked and walked, taking photographs of charming scenes, storing still-lifes in my memory along the way.
A couple of hours later, I could no longer feel my ears. Longing for a haven where I could rest and read, I stumbled upon Hovedbiblioteket, Copenhagen's Central Library. Inside I found a modern building bustling with people of all ages and backgrounds, less like a library and more a center of activity. Even better, I found a respectable collection of literature in English. Imagine my joy when I discovered they had included in their collection a number of books by Murakami, whom I had just gotten into before leaving home. I had plowed through half of Kafka on the Shore before I had to give it up since it was a library copy.
The Hovedbiblioteket did not have Kafka, so I picked up a copy of Norwegian Wood instead, settled myself in an empty chair, and read for hours, just as Murakami's Kafka did. In many ways, I found myself in his characters. There was a certain shared sense of isolation from being in a new place without the comforts of old friends and family, without the connections that come so easily in familiar places. And in a sense, this is Murakami's greatest achievement - the idea that we are all connected in our solitude, that despite our great loneliness at times, we are all living in the same world, subject to the same humanity.
I read and read until hunger beckoned me home to cook dinner. Without an official Danish ID yet and thus unable to check out books, I simply took note of my page number and returned the book to the shelf, looking forward to the next time I would be reacquainted with it.
Days here like this one have been simple, healthier, stripped of the excesses and easy distractions of life at home. Having been without power in my room for the past several days save for one desk lamp and two outlets, I've gotten used to using less electricity. I take showers in the dark. I don't cook with salt simply because there isn't any in the kitchen and I can do without it. I read during the day, go to class for a few hours, walk, explore the city, travel on the weekends, socialize in the evenings, and all in all lead a pretty simple life here. It might change in the coming weeks, but for now, life's never been so peaceful.
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