Denmark / Δανιμαρκία – Page 2

Danish Diaries #10

Τις τελευταίες εβδομάδες ξυπνάω νωρίς και πάω για ύπνο σχετικά νωρίς. Μπορώ να πω ότι η ολοκληρωτική αλλαγή στον βιορυθμό μου είχε θετικές επιδράσεις στην διάθεση μου. Το προτείνω ανεπιφύλακτα σε όλους τους ξενύχτιδες. (τώρα ξυπνάω την ίδια ώρα που πριν 4 μήνες έπεφτα για ύπνο).

Το φθινόπωρο έχει μπει για τα καλά. Είναι 8:30 και ο ήλιος δεν έχει ανατείλει ακόμα. Όπως κάνω κάθε πρωί, ανοίγω το πισί πρώτο και διαβάζω τα νέα της ημέρας. Αυτό έκανα και σήμερα. Διάβασα τα μεγάλα νέα της ημέρας. Αποφάσισα πως ήταν ώρα για πρωινό. Συνήθως τρώω γιαούρτι (το πολύ υγρό, που είναι στην συσκευασία του γάλατος, είτε με γεύση μπανάνα/αχλάδι, είτε με φρούτα του δάσους — κοινώς αποδεκτά ως φράουλα και βατόμουρο — είτε με γεύση πορτοκάλι) με μούσλι, όμως το γιαούρτι μου τέλειωσε χτες. Πάω στην κουζίνα να μου φτιάξω ένα σάντουιτς.

Ανοίγοντας την πόρτα και βγαίνοντας στο κοινόχρηστο σαλόνι, ανοίγει την πόρτα και ο τυπάς από το δωμάτιο νο. 5, ένας από τους έξι Δανούς που μένουν στο κτίριο (οι υπόλοιποι έξι εκ των δώδεκα είναι ένας Έλληνας — εγώ –, ένας Βόσνιος, μια Ιαπωνέζα, ένας Ισπανός, μια Ουγγαρέζα και ένας τυπάς αγνώστου υπηκοότητας, μάλλον Ιταλός, ο οποίος φοράει καρέ παντελόνια, μαγειρεύει κάτι περίεργα πράγματα και παίζει Νeed for Speed και ακούει Red Hot Chili Peppers στον κοινόχρηστο χώρο). , ευτυχώς όχι ο πραγματικά εκνευριστικός, σχεδόν επικίνδυνος ούγκανος γορίλλας που μόνο από το όνομα καταλαβαίνεις ότι είναι Δανός, τρέφεται με πρωτείνες της συσκευασίας απορρυπαντικού και κάνει πουσ-απς στο σαλόνι βαρώντας παλαμάκια. Δεν ήταν αυτός που ξύπνησε την ίδια ώρα με μένα, ήταν ο άλλος, ο πιο συγκρατημένος, αυτός με την μηχανή έξω στην είσοδο, αυτός ο οποίος συνήθως παίρνει τον ρόλο του διαμεσολαβητή και μεταφραστή για τις άναρθρες κραυγές του γορίλλα που θυμίζουν Δανέζικα (κάποιοι θα υποστήριζαν με ζήλο ότι τα Δανέζικα ήδη δεν απέχουν και πολύ από άναρθρες κραυγές) όταν έχει εκνευριστεί που η κουζίνα δεν είναι στην εντέλεια της καθαριότητας και σπάει τοστιέρες πετώντας τις στο πάτωμα επειδή “ξανά, κανείς δεν πέταξε τα σκουπίδια”.

Μετά τις καλημέρες στις οποίες συνήθως περιορίζεται η επικοινωνία μας, έσπασε την αναμενόμενη σιωπή σήμερα λέγοντας «Η Ευρωπαική Ένωση σήμερα έσωσε την χώρα σου, τώρα δεν πρέπει να πληρώσετε όλα σας τα χρέη». Τον κοίταξα και με έναν αναστεναγμό του απάντησα: «το ξέρω, μόλις το διάβασα» και πήρα τον δρόμο για την κουζίνα, θέλοντας να δείξω ότι θα προτιμούσα να μην μιλήσω για το συγκεκριμένο θέμα. Εκείνος συνέχισε, με ένα ύφος λες και εγώ προσωπικά έφταιγα για το χρέος: «Τώρα ελπίζω τα πράγματα να μην ξανακυλίσουν. Η Άνγκελα Μέρκελ είπε επίσης ότι άλλες χώρες από την ανατολική Ευρώπη θα πρέπει να πάρουν τις ευθύνες τους στα σοβαρά . Αυτό πρέπει να γίνει αν θέλουμε η ΕΕ να πετύχει και να μην χρειαστεί η Γερμανία να τις βοηθάει όλες να κάνουν ό,τι θα έπρεπε να έχουν την σοβαρότητα να κάνουν μόνες τους!»
«Δεν είναι βοήθεια αυτό. Το χρέος μας θα διπλασιαστεί μέσα σε λίγα χρόνια. Το κούρεμα είναι απλά ένα τέχνασμα των μέσων για να μην πουν στα ίσια ότι είναι χρεωκοπία και πλήρης παραχώρηση των εξουσιαστικών δικαιωμάτων».
«Δεν ξέρω, τι άλλο θα έπρεπε να έχουν κάνει;»

Θα μπορούσα να έχω πει πολλά πράγματα εκείνη την στιγμή. Πολλά πέρασαν από το μυαλό μου. Αλλά απλά είπα ένα

δεν έχω ιδέα.

Skyward Sword and Zelda hype

A triumph. 10/10 (early EDGE Magazine review)

As if that wasn’t enough (it really is):

I might just love Skyward Sword because it’s the first Zelda with a fully orchestrated OST! The main theme is already etched in my head (maybe because it’s Zelda’s Lullaby in reverse? That alone brings me goose-bumps!)

What a time to love this music! It wasn’t but a few days ago people in LA and London enjoyed the Legend of Zelda 25th Anniversary Symphony Concerts… I’d post a few videos that have popped up on the ‘tube but they’re sure to be pulled down by Nintendo.

I don’t mind though because I have eyes firmly set on this.

I will only get to play it a whole month after it comes out. Maybe for the better: I wouldn’t want to spend my last month in Denmark playing Zelda… would I? If I don’t, I’m going to spend all Christmas avoiding friends that persistently will want to see me after 5 months.

Maybe, in the Information & Media Studies library, where they said they’d put some consoles for people to… do research… maybe there I can…*barely audible, almost insane laughter*

But no, no, I must not make these thoughts now, I have to finish A Link to the Past on ZSNES. I must be a good Zelda fan. Yes, that’s what I’m going to do.

Until November 18th, feast your eyes on this:

September’s GamesMaster had a 1,5m poster of this as a freebie. Did I buy the issue just for the poster when I found it in a Presbyrån in Stockholm? Did I? another very scary bout of silent laughter

Danish Diaries #9: Nordisk Panorama 2011 — Various shorts and The Green Wave

Some of the films I will remember from Nordisk Panorama 2011, a Nordic-centred film festival that took place in Aarhus.

From The Animation Workshop in Viborg. I’d love being an animator myself…

I regret this does not exist online in its entirety, I’m sure everyone would love it as much as I did. I still sing “Eg har klina med ein skallamann!” whenever I remember it, not caring about the risk of people misunderstanding me!

Eläimiä eläimille, a deliciously disgusting Finnish short. No trace of it exists online. I hope one day it does so it is available for all to see.

And the one that struck me the most, The Green Wave, on the forged elections of Iran in 2009 and the uprising that followed (click on the link just for the website design excellence, if regrettably you are not interested in the film itself).

THE GREEN WAVE teaser (ENGLISH) from PORT AU PRINCE on Vimeo.

Green is the color of hope. Green is the color of Islam. And green was the symbol of recognition among the supporters of presidential candidate Mir-Hossein Mousavi, who became the symbolic figure of the Green Revolution in Iran last year. The presidential elections on June 12th, 2009 were supposed to bring about a change, but contrary to all expectations the ultra-conservative populist Mahmoud Ahmadinejad was confirmed in office. As clear as was the result, as loud and justified were the accusations of vote-rigging. The on-going Where is my vote? protest demonstrations were again and again worn down and broken up with brutal attacks by government militia. Images taken from private persons with their cell phones or cameras bear witness to this excessive violence: people were beaten, stabbed, shot dead, arrested, kidnapped, some of them disappearing without trace. What remains is the countless number of dead or injured people and victims of torture, and another deep wound in the hearts of the Iranians.

THE GREEN WAVE is a touching documentary-collage illustrating the dramatic events and telling about the feelings of the people behind this revolution. Facebook reports, Twitter messages and videos posted in the internet were included in the film composition, and hundreds of real blog entries served as reference for the experiences and thoughts of two young students, whose story is running through the film as the main thread. The film describes their initial hope and curiosity, their desperate fear, and the courage to yet continue to fight. These fictional ‘storylines’ have been animated as a motion comic – sort of a moving comic – framing the deeply affecting pictures of the revolution and the interviews with prominent human rights campaigners and exiled Iranians. Ali Samadi Ahadi’s documentary is a very contemporary chronicle of the Green Revolution and a memorial for all of those who believed in more freedom and lost their lives for that.

After watching The Green Wave in Øst for Paradis, the local cinephile theatre, there was a live Skype discussion with members of Amnesty International (one of them was in Iran in 2009) and Ramy Raoof, an activist from Egypt that leaked info out through Twitter during the “Arab Spring” (and still does). He tried to make clear the point that Facebook and Twitter, often used as the taglines of the Arab Spring by Western media, were not pivotal in organising the revolution; even after Mubarak had cut off the Internet and SMS, people of course used other means along side digital means. Ramy stressed that, even if Twitter and Facebook had not existed, the revolution would still have taken place…

…and added that, in Egypt today, the “temporary military government” after Mubarak has taken too many liberties and is not looking to be all that temporary at all…

This film shook me as few have. Imagine living in a country where you could be tortured or killed just because you were out in the streets demanding your vote to count, where the government would stop at nothing to muff you or your blog. Where merely me posting this could be deemed a crime punishable by… well, any means necessary. Maybe it’s far too easy to imagine other countries having such horrible regimes. Anyone who has read or watched Persepolis will be familiar with Iran’s difficult recent past and to see that things have certainly not improved is at least troubling. It also made me think about our own situation in Greece and how far things could go before spiraling into a similar scenario… When Alex Grigoropoulos was shot in December 2008, Greece was in flames for a couple of days. What would happen if (young) people got shot every day? Would people still go out to protest? Or would our generation freeze in terror, remembering that real protest against governments caught with their pants down could very well mean very real death, or worse? I have to admit that I don’t know how I would act if faced with these options. Looking at all of history’s failed revolutions, I do not want to shed blood for a pre-determinedly lost cause. Hell, even if the cause was not lost, I don’t want to die! Would a successful revolution won with the blood of hopefuls be worth it? Is anything won with blood worth it?

Danish Diaries #8: September Equinox

It’s the equinox, the middle of the seasonal change. This time of year, day gives way to night three minutes every day at my latitude, at its annual max. Every night from today til the Winter Solstice will still be longer than the previous one, but getting longer at a slower rate. The slowing will turn into a grinding halt on the Solstice itself, also known as Christmas, when the day will start gaining ground again. And long and cold nights they will be, here in the north. Let’s hope they’ll be hyggelig as well.

So it’s the first day of Autumn, if you’re one that prefers his astronomical seasons to the arbitrary calendrial ones. If you’re like me. A lot of leaves have already put on their jackets for the coming cold (it’s already ~12C every day here). They’re very pretty in their last days of life, their colours saturated with deep, earthly reds. As the days pass, more and more leaves will find their beautiful deaths on the wet streets. It feels wrong drying them, preserving them, when their rightful place in the circle of life is death and non-preservation, becoming food for bacteria and fungi.

This environment is quite perfect for going to lessons and having to preoccupy yourself with creative ideas. Perfect environment for sitting at home when you’re not out walking in the rain listening to music or Spanish lessons, doing your assignment for Media Management and Journalism 3.0 in the Digital Age, on Search Engine Optimization and Croud-Sourcing… What’s better than being at a Great Works of Art class, it pouring outside and you analysing Monteverdi and Vivaldi inside, in the cozy warmth of knowledge, academia and the body heat of art-thirsty colleagues?

Downsides of Denmark

A Dane criticizes Denmark and the Danes. We gape at this apparent contradiction in terms and, when we’ve got over the shock, sit back and enjoy.

http://blogs.denmark.dk/peterandreas/

Just in time for this:

Danish Diaries #7

University classes have started (first lessons last week for Media Management & Journalism 3.0, I still haven’t had a class of Digital Media Ethics or Great Works of Art, although I had to listen to Monteverdi’s Vespro della Beate Vergine as preparation for the first class — listen to it if you like big band Baroque!) I’m meeting more and more people (and I thought the ~100 people of Destination DK was a lot; how about ~1500? That’s how many exchange students are here for the semester!), and, to be honest, the novelty is starting to wear off.

Just yesterday, it was “the biggest Friday bar of the year” (every department has its own Friday Bar which opens in the afternoons of, get that, Fridays, to accommodate thirsty and tired students from all of the week’s stress. Generally, just another excuse to chug beer and party.) So, yes, yesterday was the biggest Friday bar of the year. Close to the university park lake there was a stage on which there were teams playing Beer Bowling, with a large crowd surrounding the stage and loud club music blaring on the speakers. I found a lot of other exchange students around there but I wasn’t feeling like socialising under those conditions, it was too crowded and brainless and I could honestly see no fun in it. I mean, I’d like to play Beer Bowling with friends, but as a spectator sport?

university park fredagsbar — Looks like fun. If you're Danish.

I’m trying to decide… What kind of fun do I like? On the one hand I really like quiet, personal, hyggelig situations with or without friends, watching a movie, discussing over good, just-cooked food — oh it feels so great cooking, I wonder why I wasn’t doing it all these years?! Thanks Ana and Cedric for helping with get in the hang of it! — playing a board game, subtle fun I don’t get very often these days except with very certain people. On the other hand, I can enjoy big parties and loud music, I like dancing (the alcohol percentage in my blood is inversely proportionate to my musical eclecticness, big surprise!) and I like meeting people, but yesterday I just wasn’t feeling up to it at all. Yes, there were even some girls that I wouldn’t mind talking to in there, some that I had met before and others that I wish I would, but just couldn’t. You know, I find it hard to just talk to strangers but even harder to talk to people I’ve exchanged a few words with already. I don’t know whether it’s shyness, indifference, dismissiveness or one of these masked as one of the other two…

Anyway, I decided I wasn’t having any fun and just walked from the university park back home, mp3 player alternating between the audiobook I’m currently obsessed with and Primsleur Essential Spanish… Actually I do this quite a lot these days, walking from Skoldhøjkollegiet to Århus and back. It takes around an hour, it’s good exercise, I listen to audiobooks and my favourite music, it fills me with positive vibes and it’s free, unlike taking the bus! This is the optimal walking (and I also presume biking) route, my stride took only 59 minutes yesterday. τ^^ Rain will most definitely be a problem now that winter is coming, but eh, I’ll worry about that when winter is here.

Two weeks ago my Danish classes restarted, this time in a more serious environment. I have two lessons every week, Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. At the end of September I’m going to sit for my first test in Danish. If I succeed, I’ll jump from complete-beginner Module 1 to almost-beginner Module 2. All I need to do to pass is speak about either a topic of my preference (I STILL DON’T KNOW WHAT I SHOULD CHOOSE TO BABBLE ON ABOUT! Greece? Food? Denmark? My hobbies? Aasfgfdlfkg?) or one of three books I’ll have to read beforehand. Oh, I had forgot the sensation of language exam stress! Missed you old chap.

I was in the mood to record some Danish for you tonight, maybe try to work on my pronounciation a little. I used a text I wrote almost a month ago for my Destination DK classes. My Danish is not much better today, but I can spot some mistakes I made back in August when I wrote this. I left them in for historicality.

Jeg hedder Dimitris Hall. Jeg kommer fra Grækenland, fra byen Nea Smyrni i Aten. Jeg er 22 år gammel. Jeg studerede kulturel teknologi og kommunikation til fem år på Ægæisk Universitetet, på øen af Lesvos. Min mor er græske og min far er australsk. De er sklit 20 år. Jeg har ingen søskende. Jeg bor i Århus to uger på Skoldhøjkollegiet og vil bor her i et halvt år. Jeg har mødet mange udvekslingsstuderende. Danmark er grøn med mange træer, skov og cykler. Desværre, jeg har ikke cykel nu, og jeg har ikke mange pengen. Men jeg finde Danmark og Århus hyggelig og jeg er glad at være her. Grækenland er ikke samme måde med Danmark. Grækenland er varm og ikke grøn, de har ikke mange penge der. Men Danmark og Grækenland har mange øer og jeg kan lidt øer og havet.

Translation:

My name is Dimitris Hall. I come from Greece, from the town of Nea Smyrni in Athens. I am 22 years old. I study Cultural Technology and Communication for five years at Aegean University, on the island of Lesvos. My mother is Greek and my father is Australian. They’re divorced 20 years. I have no siblings. I’ve lived in Aarhus for two weeks at Skjoldhøjkollegiet and will be living here for half a year. I have met many exchange students. Denmark is green with many trees, forests and bicycles. Unfortunately, I don’t have a bicycle now, and I haven’t got much money. But I find Denmark and Aarhus nice (cozy!) and I’m happy to be here. Greece is not the same as Denmark. Greece is warm and not green, they haven’t got much money there. But Denmark and Greece have many islands and I like islands and the sea.

Danish Diaries #6: Skagen & Råbjerg Mile

Το περασμένο Σάββατο, το Studenterhus διοργάνωσε μια εκδρομή στο Skagen. Δεν μπορούσα να την χάσω, ήθελα να πάω στο Skagen χρόνια τώρα. Από τότε που ο Andy, ο υπέροχος μισοταϊλανδός-μισοδανός τύπος που φιλοξένησε εμένα και την Άλεξ στην Κοπεγχάγη πάνω από τρία χρόνια πριν, μας είχε πει πόσα όμορφα ήταν εκεί και πόσο επέμενε ότι έπρεπε να πάμε, ενώ μιλάγαμε στο ισόγειο του ξενοδοχείου που δούλευε και είχε καταφέρει να μας μπάσει τσάμπα. Και από τότε, δεν ξέχασα αυτό το όνομα: Skagen. Που, όπως πρόσφατα έμαθα, δεν προφέρεται Σκάγκεν αλλά Σκέι(ε)ν — το ε στην παρένθεση το προφέρετε μόνο αν θέλετε, αν νιώθετε πως έχετε την διάθεση ρε παιδί μου, έτσι είναι η προφορά των Δανέζικων, μπορείτε να μισοπείτε-μισομασήσετε μια λέξη και έτσι να είναι πιο αυθεντικός ο ήχος…

Πήγαμε λοιπόν στο Skagen με όλη την συμμορία από δω, ή με σχεδόν όλη. Η τιμή ήταν απαγορευτική για μερικούς: 350kr — κάτι λιγότερο από 50 ευρώ για μια μονοήμερη. Όμως είχα ελέγξει τις εναλλακτικές για να πάω μόνος με τραίνο: έβγαινε ακριβότερα και λεωφορείο δεν νομίζω να πάει εκεί πάνω. Οπότε για μένα τουλάχιστον ήταν μια μοναδική ευκαιρία και παρ’όλο που το παραδάκι μου ήταν μικροσκοπικό, τόλμησα να το υποβαθμίσω στο επίπεδο του “σχεδόν ανύπαρκτο” και να πάω κι εγώ. Όχι που θα κώλωνα.

Τι είναι λοιπόν το περίφημο Skagen; Είναι πολύ απλό. Είναι το βορειότερο ακρωτήρι, το τέλος της Δανίας, το σημείο που δύο θαλασσίτσες συναντιούνται και άλλες δύο θαλασσάρες μπλέκονται, δύο θαλασσάρες στις οποίες ανήκουν, θεωρητικά πάντα εφόσον όλα είναι θέμα ορισμών, οι μικρότερες θαλασίτσες. Στο Skagen, το Skagerrak κονταροχτυπιέται με το Kattegat. Aυτές οι θάλασσες θα μπορούσαμε να πούμε ότι ήταν για τους Vikings ότι ήταν για τους Έλληνες το Αιγαίο. Στο ίδιο σημείο, η Βαλτική μπλέκεται με την Βόρεια Θάλασσα. Και το ανακατεμένο αποτέλεσμα, με τα κύματα των δύο θαλασσών να έρχονται από αντίθετες κατευθύνσεις, δημιουργεί ένα σημείο που η οργή του Βόρειου Ποσειδώνα δεν κατευνάζεται ποτέ.

Τα ρεύματα πανίσχυρα, τα ναυάγια πολλά. Τα ρεύματα μεταφέρουν πολύ πράγμα το οποίο προστίθεται στην ακτή και επιμηκύνει το Grenen, όπως λέγεται η τελευταία άκρη του Skagen, περίπου 8 μέτρα κάθε χρόνο. Και έτσι, αφού ότι είναι τώρα θάλασσα σε λίγα χρόνια θα είναι άμμος και χώμα, πολλά από τα ναυάγια των περασμένων αιώνων είναι τώρα διάσπαρτα πάνω στην δυτική ακτή. Ποιος ξέρει τι περισσότερο θα μπορούσε ένας δεινός δύτης να βρει σε αυτή την περιοχή; Όχι πως θα ήταν ότι πιο ασφαλές, γιατί εκτός από υλικά τα ρεύματα έχουν το κακό συνήθειο να παρασέρνουν και ανθρώπους που νομίζουν ότι μπορούν να κατακτήσουν την θάλασσα, και γι’αυτό το κολύμπι γύρω από το Grenen απαγορεύεται.

Μερικά χιλιόμετρα από το Grenen βρίσκεται το Skagen, μια σχετικά βαρετή πόλη η οποία ευδοκιμεί χάρης του τουρισμού που προσελκύει αυτό το πολύ ιδιαίτερο σημείο της χώρας (ναι, μιλάμε για πολύ τουρίστα, πριν πάω στο Grenen φανταζόμουν πως θα είναι κάπως έτσι:

όμως ήταν κάπως έτσι:

Στο Skagen έζησαν στα τέλη του 19ου αιώνα πολλοί ζωγράφοι οι οποίοι εμπνεύστηκαν από το μοναδικό φως του Grenen και δημιούργησαν πολλά έργα εμπνευσμένα από την καθημερινότητα των ψαράδων και των κατοίκων της περιοχής. Τελικά η παλιά Δανέζικη ζωγραφική μου αρέσει πολύ, απ’όσο τους είδα στην πινακοθήκη του Skagen αλλά και στο ARos.

Μερικά χιλιόμετρα νότια ακόμα, βρίσκεται κάτι που πραγματικά δεν περίμενα να βρω στην Δανία. Πρόκεται για το Råbjerg Mile (Ρόμπ-γιεα Μίλε), μια αμμοθίνη που εκτείνεται για ένα τετραγωνικό χιλιόμετρο περίπου και στο ψηλότερο σημείο της είναι 40 μέτρα. Για να μην πολυλογώ, είναι σαν να πήρες ένα κομμάτι της Σαχάρας και να το έριξες στην μέση –ΟΚ, στην άκρη– της Δανίας. Με την διαφορά βέβαια ότι η Σαχάρα δεν είναι 1 τετραγωνικό χιλιόμετρο, αλλά 9.400.000, για να καταλάβετε την διαφορά, αν το Råbjerg Mile ήταν ένα τετραγωνικό εκατοστό, περίπου ένα νόμισμα των 5 cents, η Σαχάρα θα ήταν μια έκταση 32μ x 32μ… This is some serious desert…

Το πιο παράδοξο είναι ότι γύρω από την περιοχή του Råbjerg Mile υπάρχουν δάση, λίμνες, ανεμογεννήτριες, στο βάθος … Οπότε το σκηνικό κάνει την εμπειρία αυτής της θίνης ακόμα πιο σουρεαλιστική. Το Råbjerg Mile αποτελείται και αυτό απο “κινούμενη άμμο”: κάθε χρόνο μετακινείται ανατολικά γύρω στα 15-20 μέτρα. Οπότε, γύρω στο 2200, θα χάθει μέσα στο Kateggat. Eξωγήινοι, αθάνατοι και λοιποί αιωνόβιοι, προλάβετε! Αν και τουλάχιστον οι Δανοί το 2200 θα αποκτήσουν μια καλή αμμώδη παραλία στην ανατολική ακτή, γιατί τώώώρα…

Η δυτική ακτή της Δανίας είναι όλη περίπου σαν τις ακτές του Skagen (και μου θύμισε τo Scheveningen κοντά στην Χάγη που είχαμε πάει με την Νένη πέρσι, αυτή την απέραντη αμμουδιά…) Το Aarhus είναι στην ανατολική ακτή. Ένα θα πω για την ποιότητα των παραλιών και της θάλασσας της ανατολικής ακτής: κάτι ήξερε όποιος την ονόμασε Βαλτική…

Πολύ θα ήθελα να είχα μείνει περισσότερο σε αυτά τα μέρη, όμως το αυστηρό πρόγραμμα της εκδρομής μας άφησε μόνο λίγη ώρα σε κάθε ένα…

Higher Education, Lower Expectations

Higher education has been a hot topic for years in Greece. There has been a tug-o-war between the government and the academic community. The latter has been at worst trying to maintain a status-quo and at best seeking some beneficial changes in the educational system in Greece that have, however, thus far been stopped by greater social problems, for example: deep corruption, the constant loss of ground of government-owned services to private companies (the most prominent of which have indeed managed, quite [c]overtly to become caliphs instead of the “democratically-elected” caliphs) and a general collapse of any sense of unity or consensus on any subject among the Greek population, a live-and-let-die, every-man-for-his-own, a rise of absolute individualism that is in tune with the global spirit of the times. The government is under pressure by the powers that be, whoever those may, to act in accord with the spirit of these times: a deep and scary neo-liberalism that seeks to destroy any and all social and consciential conquests of the past few centuries in the name of the “free market”. It is a paradoxical aim, since at the same time this “free” market remains free only for those that already have the means necessary. The rest of the population is carefully prevented from coming close, with more severe taxation, liquid work contracts, lower salaries and worsening social care. A free market for a slave population. It reminds me of the good old tidbit of wisdom: “Fighting for peace is like fucking for virginity”…

I decided to write this post today for three reasons. The first is that the Ministry of Education’s reform for Greek universities, a plan born by and completely in agreement with the above spirit of the times, is being discussed, agreed on in the Parliament and being set for immediate enforcement as I’m writing these lines. The second reason is that I have seen the quality of education possible and desirable in Denmark where I’m currently living — here they’re following the same spirit of the times as mentioned above, but at least they’re doing it well, with a straight face and with a clear conscience. The result is a higher education of great standards in every single way (and it’s free). To compare the situation in Greece and in Denmark just because they’re based on theoretically similar economic models would be like comparing a souvlaki bought from Plaka to one bought from your favourite souvlatzidiko. Just because they’re based on the same recipe does not mean they’re one and the same.

The third reason is that I’ve talked to Spanish people a lot about the situation in Spain, where similar laws and measures as the ones being cooked up in Greece as we speak have been in effect for a long time. Students not only have to pay for every single ECTS point they study for, if they fail their subject they have to pay for it again, and again… They have to pay for every single book, they have to pay for their enrollment, they have to pay for pretty much everything. This has neither made studying fairer nor has it upgraded the quality of education, it’s just the government freeing resources for other, presumably more important things (such as the Papal visit). My friend Ana, whenever I tell her that education in Greece is basically free, shakes her head in disbelief, uttering Spanish curses. Whenever I tell her that the Greek government wants to make things just like in Spain at the same time having a huge smile about it and shamelessly blurting out things like “national bet” and “responsible decision”, she cries: “Don’t let them Dimitris! You are so lucky to have free higher education. You must fight for it and defend it. Don’t let them take this away from you! Don’t be like us…” It’s a wake-up call, a sudden change of perspective, even moreso because I’m seeing extraordinary cultural similarities between Spain and Greece and the patterns followed in our economical problems. I can relate to the Spanish people and they can relate to us.

So what are we going to do about all this? Are we going to let them do as they please with our prospects and our lives? Will the spirit of post-modern individualism mark another victory this day? If it is does, I’m afraid it’s going to be another early, black celebration…

Danish Diaries #5

The past few days haven’t been all that much to write home about. The main reason for this is my almost complete lack of money. I knew before coming here that costs of living would be extreme, I thought I was prepared (was I ever…) but I didn’t expect that even going to the supermarket or downtown could be so frightening to my wallet and the full range of its contents. That together with a few unlucky money-sucking occasions have meant that I’ve been forced to put a few limits to my wanderlust and learn to enjoy the finer pleasures of looking at the four walls of my room and my laptop’s screen. Fortunately it’s not as bad as it sounds; I’ve got company in my kronerlessness, as well as grass and trees around Skoldhøjkollegiet.

For you to understand exactly how easy it is for money to disappear in ways unexpected, allows me to disclose a recent episode of my dorm life. Every week two of the twelve rooms in Spobjergvej 58 have to do the cleaning up. One is responsible for the kitchen and the other for the other common areas (the common room, the staircases and corridors etc). An inspection takes place every Tuesday to determine if everything’s clean as it should. If not, little notes are left for the respectiverooms to notify them of what they have to do by the following day. If they still fail to clean they are charged completely unreasonable amounts of money for the cleaners that do the job for them.

It was my turn to clean the common areas last week and of course I didn’t want to make my already atrocious financial situation that much horrible. So I took extra care to vacuum every carpet and linoleum surface and mop anything that could be mopped. Alas, Tuesday’s check unequivocally concluded that my vacuuming had been unsatisfactory. To top it all off, before I knew it, the common room floor surfaces were covered with grass and mud again — it was a rainy day and my flatmates were not paying much attention, why should they, it wasn’t them that had to clean up, was it? I begrudgingly did my part and slept easy, believing I had escaped the villainous clutches and voracious wallets of the cleaning ~~ladies~~ staff (they’re very serious about gender equality here, it’s even reflected in their language. Not that I disapprove, of course). Next day I was greeted with a beautiful 154 kr. (~20€) for “cleaning performed due to insufficient cleaning”. If they had chosen to be a little bit thorougher, costs of unwanted cleanliness could have easily reached 400kr for the likes of “vacuuming the furniture”, “keeping escape routes free” and “washing the lamps and tables”. At least they were kind enough to add “the hall of residence will collect the amount for the cleaning on the next month’s rent of the relevant resident”. Oh, it’s OK, I don’t have to pay it right away, only with my next month’s rent! >:ε What strikes me as the oddest is that none of my flatmates seems to know with any amount of detail what the cleaning entails or just care about it for that matter. The three weeks I’ve been here it’s not the residents that have done the cleaning but the company. It shouldn’t surprise me now that I think about it; my flatmates do strike me as the kind of people that would rather pay than clean up themselves, out of sheer boredom most likely.

My new Andalusian friend Ana and I have made a habit of going for walks and cooking dinner together every evening — Spanish, Greek and new experimental recipes. We are in a compatible economical situation (one that does not permit lots of going out) so we can make the best of our limited means. That includes buying beer with the highest price-for-alcohol ratio (but still the cheapest) and watching documentaries on Youtube. Joy: I’ve found yet another friend with which I can agree about how the entirety of our world is a social construction! Our discussions are sometimes limited by language barriers at a higher level, but hey, she’s already trying to teach me Spanish and doing a good job of it too, so ¿quién sabe? I totally used Google Translate for that, by the way.

Apart from cleaning, being with Ana, watching In Treatment and How I Met Your Mother (almost done with season 6, finally!) most of my past days I’ve been trying to make my laptop work with Skype. That would be an easy task normally. Thing is, I’ve been trying to run Linux for a few weeks now and I promised myself that this time I WOULDN’T give up and return to Windows after the 50th time I would be forced to do something the hard way, if at all. Well, this time, I’m not so sure. PulseAudio is driving me absolutely crazy. I’ve been scouring the web for days trying to get my microphone to work but it’s all been little more, or should I say less than a headache. And it’s not just Skype and all the friends and family I’d love to actually talk to instead of merely hearing. What I was also looking forward to was posting videos of me trying to speak Danish! Now I can’t do even that.

Sorry Linux, I love you just as I love free stuff and sticking to my ideology and beliefs –not to mention doing my part of anti-conformity– but sometimes you just can’t resist that […ooh, as if I’d share with you my forbidden pleasures… ~^,]

By the way. If I love something more than receiving postcards, letters and packages, it’s receiving them with no prior notice. For everyone that might want to surprise me and make a grown man cry tears of joy, here’s my address here in Denmark:

Dimitris Hall
Spobjergvej 58 vær. 3
8220 Brabrand

Mange tak!

Danish Diaries #4

Days pass faster and faster… Where’s Making Time when you need it? I think I have passed the familiarity threshold; everything is making less of an impression on me now and I don’t feel like I’m in a foreign place anymore. I am quite at home at my dorm and taking the bus is starting to feel natural. I must say the speed in which I have adapted is scaring me a little. This comes with its own costs: I’m slightly less inclined to meet new people or ready to try out new things and more likely to get in a routine as I have for the past 10 days or so with my daily morning Danish classes, for which I yesterday signed up to continue into Autumn (paid from none other than the Danish government). It follows that there hasn’t been any groundbreaking stuff going on. I shall share with you some non-groundbreaking tidbits:

Danish is a strange language. It’s not only the sound (it’s still almost impossible for me to understand anything if it’s not written in the semi-recognisable script Danes have for written word), I also find some words very funny. For example: øl means beer. Øl (pronounced like ö), if you say it this way in German, means oil. If you say it a lot of times, like (øløløløløløløl) it sounds like: A) a retarded version of lololololol and B) this.Danish also has a unique and specific way of denoting family relationships. In Danish you can’t just have grandmother or grandfather; you have to be very specific about whose mother or father it is. So you get things like mormor (mother’s mother), farfar (father’s father), any combination really. I was wondering how far it could get, like a series of zeros and ones. “My morfarmor is 104 years old” -“Oh, my farmorfarfar is still alive! They had him on a TV show the other day!”
They also do it with uncles. You have to be specific about whose parent’s brother or sister it is, too. I guess it makes things easier but it’s also funny.
I went to a sushi dinner party organised by the Japanese students in Skjoldhøjkollegiet. It was really fun, all kinds of different delicious food our hosts had spent days preparing. Everything was very delicious and there was a lot more people than I had imagined! But then came the alcohol: Danish beer, Japanese beer, several different kinds of wine, including cherry wine and fighter wine (a Spanish expression for cheap wine that fights with you the next day), liquorice, uh, liquor shots — mind you I hate liquorice, oh, one new thing to add to my list — and after the party we topped it off with 4 vodka shots at Camill’s place followed with more fighter wine and gin with fruit juice. Seriously, I should have been worse when I woke up this morning. The only thing I didn’t remember was how I had gone to bed and my hangover only lasted a few hours… f you don’t take into account that I slept in all morning and missed today’s Danish class.

September’s GamesMaster had a 1,5m poster of this as a freebie. Did I buy the issue just for the poster when I found it in a Presbyrån in Stockholm? Did I? *another very scary bout of silent laughter*

September’s GamesMaster had a 1,5m poster of this as a freebie. Did I buy the issue just for the poster when I found it in a Presbyrån in Stockholm? Did I? another very scary bout of silent laughter