Friday, January 7, 2011

let’s talk Christmas

Seems I jumped to conclusions a bit too hastily ‘cause you’re about to read something you’ve never read before.
Earlier and below I cried myself to tears that this Christmas is going to be the loneliest and saddest ever. Well, these holidays turned out miraculously well after all. And yes, if you ask me, I got startling news for you: Santa Claus really exists!
If you ever skimmed through Journalism for dummies, this means you already know that one should check the truthfulness of a piece of information from at least two reliable sources before making it a headline story. I and M make two, so pay attention to our breaking news:

Denmark: Why Santa really exists up north

What seemed to be just another manic Monday at the library for M, turned out to be more than expected. Asked by a Danish friend (later referred to as K) when she is going home for Christmas, M was once again realizing that this year she might as well join the ranks of the many who account for the highest suicide rate during a calendar year. But on this particular Monday, things went a lot different. Maybe unusually different. Unlike other Danish colleagues, K invited M over for Christmas. That, I must say, you don’t take for granted. And if you are a stranger who ever lived/still lives in Denmark, you know what I mean.
And if this wasn’t good enough, what was supposed to be a one day trip on the 24th December for M, turned into a four day trip for the both of us (*proof no 1 that Santa exists). After an entire night waiting for our Christmas packages from back home at Rutebilstation (the bus was only 5h 30min late), we headed up north and stopped in a small village on the Kattegat shore.
And so the fairytale begun. First, we went to get a Christmas tree. But for that we needed a saw. No, not the movie, not even the sequels. A real saw. Because we went into the forest to look for our Christmas tree, which we cut down all by ourselves (though I must admit I didn’t play a major role in this one, I was just doing my tree-dance around) (**proof no 2 that Santa exists). I thought we might as well meet some elves on the way, but they turned out to be another family looking for a Christmas tree. Nothing unusual. At least, not around here. ‘cause where I’m coming from, trees can be picked up only from the MAR-KET. OK, maybe sometimes from a SU-PER one. But still, this is not super. SU-PER is to pick it up from the ├╝ber forest, the biggest retail chain store in Europe.
But the fun didn’t stop here. It went on and on for the next 3 days, during which I visited all K’s relatives, walked on the sea (yup, Jesus is not the only one who can do that, I can also do it on frozen waters), ate charcuterie (duck eats duck, I revolutionized the food chain), ran in the middle of the white nowhere, received Christmas presents, tried to hump everybody.

By far, the best Christmas ever. And farthest.

Rumor has it that Danes are cold. They are indeed. But, like in every corner of the world, be it sunny or freezing, you can find those individuals who can sometimes make up for the whole. And, ironically enough, you start to like the Danes again and regain hope that at some point they will all open up like on a snowy Christmas day. Everyday.

2 comments:

  1. Duck, I'm so glad I found your new blog. I missed you and I'm hoping to see more of your Danish adventures.

    Go back in the snow and have fun.

    Hugz.

    ReplyDelete
  2. old habits die hard, so you definitely will, dear friend

    hagz and a wagging tail right back at ya

    ReplyDelete