Back in May, our family took a little trip to Denmark, and I posted a few of my favorite images from our trip here, here, here, and here. It was our first big vacation with Diego, and the third time that I had been back since being an exchange student there in 1985. That exchange year, as those close to me know, was pivotal in my development. I have always looked back on it as the start of the my lifepath if one can say such a thing.
Overcoming the challenges of language and adapting to a new culture without my family as a shy 15 year old gave me the confidence and self-worth to believe that I could do anything. It was an eventful year full of small adventures, laughter, and at times, tears. It's hard to quickly summarize a year full of small moments and vignettes that are probably inconsequential to most, but at the end of my time there I wasn't quite ready to go home. I remember a moment towards the end of my stay wanting to hold on to every second of that special time that was slipping away from me minute-by-minute. It was around 9pm in the mid-summer twighlight. I remember looking out my west-facing bedroom window and watching the sun sink down in the sky and the sea glisten. I ran out of my bedroom to pick up my bike and rode a mile or so down to the water. When I got to the beach the water was warm and embracing.
Going back some 20 odd years later, my goals were to show my husband and son the country which I had come to love so much and visit the people there who had made my year so special. My last visit was 14 years earlier when I was in my mid-twenties. I wasn't expecting to see too many big changes to the rural Denmark that I once knew. But, I was especially looking forward to seeing my friends and meeting their families to see how our lives had changed since we last met.
In many ways, our two week trip was too short. With so many people to visit and a 15 month old to care for there wasn't much time to revisit old haunts or see the sights. We missed Copenhagen altogether save a 45 minute stroll down the Strøget. Too much to see, too little time, and it was far too expensive with the dwindling dollar. We were however, fortunate to spend some nice time with friends and my host family. The Danes have a wonderful way of making one feel welcome in their homes. It's the "hygge" they are famous for. We also had a few days at a rented beach house just a few steps from the sea, where we could eat on the patio and watch the sun shine on the water.
We were incredibly fortunate to have gorgeous weather nearly every day of our trip. Perhaps it was the reflection of the blue sky against the sea that made the light have a much more blue, cooler cast than I ever remember. The rolling hills of West Funen were as beautiful as I remembered and the tiny town where I lived, even prettier. The fields of sugar beets had been replaced by wheat, as the sugar factory of nearby Assens had closed a number of years before. But the sunny mustard fields were still there, as were the thatched-roof family farms, and bicycles ever-present. As we drove to my host parents house we passed the sad little discotheque that I used to go to with my girlfriends, Karen and Lone. I had only been there at night and had only seen it in darkness. There, in the glaring light of day sat a little black building alone at the intesection of two rural roads. The sign still still read the same "Hjørnet" (The Corner.)
The truth is that I can probably never have enough time in my beloved Denmark. Maybe I want to re-live that magical year, to step back in time. Maybe I associate Denmark with a personal awakening, or the the vast potential one feels when one is on the cusp of adulthood. These are things that I can probably never get back. But, for a few moments at our beach house I saw the light glisten on the water and I knew I was right back where I wanted to be.
