Every Sunday like clockwork, Kaj and I walk around the lakes that are located in the middle of Copenhagen. It is a ritual borne out of my desire to have a shared activity, allowing us to bond in ways other than watching TV or doing household chores. It is a physical activity that is much more low-keyed than my usual Pilates or bike riding. Surprisingly, what I have unearthed is a weekly meditation on our lives, the world, and all things in between.
We just happen to live across from the lakes, so it is easy to get there. “Sø” is the Danish word for “lake” and the three consecutive lakes consist of Sankt Jørgens Sø, Pebling Sø, and Sortedams Sø. They run a course of 6.3 kilometers (3.9 miles) connecting the neighborhoods of Østerbro, Nørrebro, Vesterbro, Frederiksberg and Centrum. It is home to at least 5 different species of birds including ducks, pigeons, doves, seagulls, and my personal favorite, the swan. The humans that come are there to walk, jog, push baby carriages, pull dogs along, sit on benches, and in general, people watch.
What I love about the lakes is that as soon as you step onto the walking path, you are transported into a natural boulevard of the above-mentioned species. Kaj and I spend long periods of time watching the birds and their very interesting society. From the fights over the human-tossed morsels of bread to the springtime cavalcade of newborn chicks, it is a developed society - a society of which I am envious.The envy comes as a result of being an outsider. I am the outsider in a city and country with old traditions and standard ways of being. Gone is the breadth of choices and experiences that filled my days in America, specifically New York. Gone is the opportunity to experience so many different cultures within a day that it feels strange to be around only one type. Danes are, for the most part, a very homogeneous people.
So while walking along the lakes, I am constantly reminded that the life of the city continues to pulsate as cars pass by on the one side. These cars are filled with passengers going to typically Danish activities such as birthday meals around the table with hot chocolate and rolls, or a football (soccer) match between local rivals FC København and Brøndby. On the other side, small cafes play host to those who choose to eat, sip, slurp, and enjoy.
While walking I think about the solace I find in having gone to my Brazilian dance class the day before. My teacher, Luciano is from Salvador da Bahia, the Harlem of Brazil. He, too, is an outsider. But surprisingly, there is a community of Brazilians who get together for parties, speaking Portuguese, and dancing the samba. Brazilian dance has a very strong African influence and I sometimes go to these events as a desire to move my body in a very “African” way. But, still, it makes me miss my people even more. I miss black folks in America.
I have found common ground with others who come in from other countries. They, too, are feeling on the outskirts. Whether from France, Somalia, Turkey, Iraq, Poland, Germany, China, or Mexico, you feel the isolation of not being Danish. This, according to my Swedish friend, Agneta, is also felt by other Scandinavians. Danes like being around Danes and pride themselves on their highly developed society that has taken care that most of their citizens are middle-class and educated.I, in particular, share an affinity with the people I have met from Great Britain. Friends from England, Scotland, and Ireland have preserved me over the months with their impeccable sense of humor and timing. They have introduced me to pub culture, which takes the task of holding ones liquor to high art! In my darkest hours, I turn to them for comfort, and a pint of course.
We all have come to learn that Denmark is more of a “melting pot” than America. In order to survive here, you have to become Danish. This is in contradistinction to what is now called the quilt of America where it is easier to maintain a past cultural identity. In Denmark, foreigners seeking residency go to language school and, if you’re consistent, you’ll complete the course in a year and a half. In social interactions, we learn about them but they do not learn about us. I can’t count the number of dinner parties I’ve been to where no one has stopped to ask where I come from, what my experience of Danish culture is, who I am.
So these walks are a balm for me. It is a time to ponder how long I will be living in Denmark and to hold Kaj’s hand in the midst of my utter confusion over how to make a living here. It is a time to quell the notion that I have absolutely nothing to do here but to pass the time. It’s a time to re-fuel as I know that I have to push through the invisible wall that keeps me separated from them.I believe that the walls can come down. I must keep pushing through. Step by step, my footprints wear through the gravel-filled pathway by the lakes. Step by step, bird by bird.
