Study Abroad Stories

Peanut butter shelves and baked good from scratch

By Kira Nightingale, Gettysburg College (Biotechnology & Biomedicine)

When a student appears in New York City, no local would dare stop and ask why they decided to travel halfway across the world to study there. When a student appears in Copenhagen, however, the questions just don’t stop coming. “Why here, of all the places in Europe?” “Why not,” doesn’t seem like an acceptable answer to this question, but that’s how it started out for me. Of course, if the question were changed to be, “What makes you love Copenhagen, when you’ve been to so many other places in Europe?” I would have an entirely different answer.

While it’s true that I love how clean and timely the public transportation is, that I am incredibly grateful for the flat roads of Denmark whenever I get up the motivation to go for a run, and that I’ve developed an addiction to Danish pastries, these things alone are not enough to make Copenhagen one of the best cities in Europe. It’s the people that live here who really make it wonderful.

From the museum worker who literally beamed with joy when my father asked a question about Danish history, (“It’s so exciting to see how interested you are! We don’t get enough American tourists anymore, you know.”) to the woman who good naturedly made fun of me when I almost lost my flip-flop on the track of the Metro, to the bus driver who gave me a five minute lesson on how to properly pronounce the name of my stop, the Danes are possibly the nicest (not to mention most accommodating) people you’ll meet in Europe.They may not go out of their way to strike up a conversation with a stranger on the street, but if you put in a little effort, you’ll be surprised at just how friendly they really are.

I’ve had the pleasure of experiencing life in a Danish family first hand with my host family, and although I was extremely nervous when I first arrived, I now know that all my fears were for nothing, as most of my favorite, not to mention funniest, memories involve them in one way or another.

When I asked my host family one day if it was true that Danes don’t eat peanut butter, they just laughed, but the next day I was presented with two jars of it. Over the next couple of weeks, more and more jars piled up in the kitchen, until my host dad joked that he would need to build a shelf just to hold my peanut butter. Or at least I thought he was joking, until I returned home one day to find a new shelf in the kitchen, with a sign hanging above it, declaring it “Kira’s peanut butter shelf.” The shelf is still standing at this very moment, and holding up about five new jars of assorted Danish peanut butter, which were excitedly picked up from the store by my host family.

I was asked a by my host mom to make a visit to my host brother’s English class to talk about being an American student in Denmark. I had no idea what to expect from a group of 15 year old students, but I was extremely impressed nonetheless, both with their essential mastery of the English language and their enthusiasm in talking to me. It seemed as if they had a never ending supply of questions to ask me, some of which were quite entertaining.

I was asked everything from, “What are the differences between New York City and Copenhagen,” and, “What age do you start driving and how much does a license/car cost” to “Are you allowed to use cell phones in school in America,” and, “Are Danish boys better looking than American boys?” When I offhandedly mentioned something about my friends who are also studying here, one girl exclaimed, “You have friends?! There are more of you?!” I simply laughed and nodded, a little stunned at the idea that Americans were really that big of a deal to these teenagers.

There have been many different things I’ve needed to master since being in Denmark, and my host family has helped me through them all. I’ve learned how to make almost any kind of baked good you could ever imagine, all from scratch, because the boxed mixes “aren’t very good.” My first attempt at brownies ended with a half burnt, completely flat sheet of chocolate mess, but my host family ate it all, encouraging me the whole time.

I had to navigate the Danish healthcare system at one point, and my host mom had no problem making phone calls for me, and shuttling me back and forth between doctors and pharmacies. I discovered that you can, in fact, forget how to ride a bike; and while my host family couldn’t directly help me with that problem, they were there, thoughtfully taking pictures of me as I crashed into things so that I could remember the momentous occasion.

Coming to Denmark for a semester is an experience I won’t soon forget. These four months have been filled with activities, and more importantly people, that will stay with me forever. Right now, I’m just waiting for my host family to take me up on my offer to come to New Jersey – while “leverpostej shelf” doesn’t quite have the same ring to it as “peanut butter shelf,” I’m still eager at the chance to give them the same unforgettable experience they gave me.