documentation of a creative education

i visited a friend this afternoon. she's a lovely woman in her 70s who taught textiles and all sorts of handiwork at a danish højskole for many years. she's the one who finds all kinds of looms and spinning wheels and such for me because she works at the local red cross secondhand store. she also has friends who have such things and they have reached an age where they want to get rid of them. 

we hadn't seen one another in a very long time thanks to corona, but we decided to have coffee and the season's first rhubarb cake today. it's the big prayer day and so i had a much-needed day off. i love her home - it's so inviting and everywhere, there's something quirky, interesting and most likely handmade. even the old dried up oranges in a little wood bowl next to some dried out mushrooms in the kitchen windowsill are beautiful. it's how i want my home to be. something interesting at every turn. 

she mentioned the other day that she had all of her old projects from when she went to textile design school back in the late 60s. and she wondered if maybe we in creagive, our local creative group, would want to use it to do collage or something. so she took me upstairs and she got out all these big folios from where they were stored. we sat down on the floor, opened them all up and went through them together. 

as we flipped through pages and pages of different pattern designs and fabric prints and sketches of things to weave, she told me stories. of teachers, of materials, of travels, of sources of inspiration, of the way that colors or patterns had fascinated her. i am kicking myself for not recording her stories. 

she insisted that i take all this treasure home with me - 5 big folios and several notebooks. i feel so inspired by it and i will take some of it along on our creagive trip to højer in the autumn. emmy might even come along as well and she can tell us stories. 

but i intend to go through it all carefully and photograph some of it and perhaps even work with some of it. there's a whole binder of different printed fabric samples that would make an amazing quilt. and there are some beautiful machine-stitched patterns that deserve to be framed (it's those in the photos on this post). 

husband looked through some of it with me after dinner and he was just as in awe of it as i am. she worked so thoroughly with various patterns, exploring colors and all the options. i wonder if any education today does this so thoroughly as they did back then. 

she started her education at what would later become kolding design school in 1967, the year that i was born. and all of the things she worked with seem so timeless and fresh, even today. i can't believe she didn't go on to work for merimekko or some other scandinavian design firm. even just the samples are just beautiful. 

i kept asking her if she was sure she wanted to be rid of it and sure that her family wouldn't want it. she assured me they wouldn't and that she was ready to let it go. i feel so privileged that she wanted me to have this. i feel entrusted with something special and amazing. it's the tracing of a person's creative development and a huge insight into a creative mind, as well as a glimpse of an education and a time that is surely gone. i can't imagine anyone going to such depths today. it feels like everyone wants to take shortcuts and rush as quickly to something commercial as can be.

and it was also clear in some of the assignments (because she kept those too), that they were being asked to think in a commercial way as well. one assignment was to create a fabric pattern that would work equally well for women or men. 

my friend wants our creative group to use all of this as materials for collage and some of it can definitely be that, but i think quite a lot of is far too good for that. i already feel inspired by the way she worked with patterns and techniques. for example, these sewing machine embroidered pieces can be found in sketch form and then a more complete drawing that was framed by passe partout and then in its final form, stitched with the sewing machine on fabric, also in a passe partout frame. 

so much of the work is signed and dated and we will definitely be framing some of the pieces. husband thinks we should go through it all, decide what we'd like to keep and then pay her for it. i fear she will refuse, but i think we should insist. i may have to invite her over tomorrow or sunday to go through it all again and to tell me more stories about it, which this time, i will record. it would be so cool to do some work inspired by her work and then create an exhibition - a kind of dialogue across 50 years. 

a modern take on the church fresco

there's a little church on the island of fyn that has stirred up big controversy. a local businessman commissioned a contemporary danish artist named jim lyngvild to do a modern take on the church fresco. lyngvild is a costume designer and photographer and designs elaborate costumes and then does traditional, very painterly setups with real people that he photographs in hyperreal HD. they look like they'll step out of the frame and when you look, you can almost hear them.

lysets engel (angel of light) - based upon john 1:1-5

"in the beginning was the word, and the word was with god, and the word was god. the same was in the beginning with god. all things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made that was made. in him was life; and the life was the light of men. and the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not."

i might also mention that lyngvild lives not far from this church in a viking-style longhouse and practices the viking religion known as asa. you can definitely see the influence of that in these modern frescos. i want to call them paintings, because they are extremely painterly, but they are photographs. he is not a fan of photoshop, so all of the details are meticulously set up and staged and not just photoshopped in afterwards. i have no idea where he got the lions, but they look a bit like they might be in a museum of natural history somewhere. he's the kind of guy with connections to get him access to staging a photoshoot such a place.

grebet i ægteskabsbrud (the grip of adultery) - based on john 8:1-11

"they say unto him, master, this woman was taken in adultery, in the very act.now Moses in the law commanded us, that such should be stoned: but what sayest thou?...woman, where are those thine accusers? hath no man condemned thee? she said, no man, lord. and jesus said unto her, neither do i condemn thee: go, and sin no more."

my photos are just snapshots taken with my phone, but i think i found this particular of the photos to be the most powerful one. the woman holding an iPhone and filming is such a statement on modern stoning - or condemnation, or canceling, as it's come to be called. i also love the ambiguous and not-so-ambiguous genders in this photo. it's both an echo to the traditional fresco (which were also quite graphic in their way at times) and a very sharp look at today. that the woman jesus forgives is a lesbian makes it even better. the tattoos, the naked bodies, the clear viking influence make it even more powerful and thought-provoking. i stood in front of it a long time and even went back again for a second look.

opstandelsen (resurrection)- from john 20:1-18 

"...and they say unto her, woman, why weepest thou? she saith unto them, because they have taken away my lord, and i know not where they have laid him. ... jesus saith unto her, mary. she turned herself, and saith unto him, rabboni; which is to say, master."

more animals from that natural history museum. and i'd love to see the wings in person - lyngvild must have made them, as he designed and sewed all the costumes. for me, the animals signify an exoticism - they're not ordinary farm animals, but wild animals found in africa. 

nedtagelsen fra korset (removal from the cross) - from mark 15:37-40

"and Jesus cried with a loud voice, and gave up the ghost. and the veil of the temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom. and when the centurion, which stood over against him, saw that he so cried out, and gave up the ghost, he said, truly this man was the son of god. there were also women looking on afar off: among whom was mary magdalene, and mary the mother of james the less and of joses, and salome."

one of the giant works contains the chairman of the local church counsel and we think it's this one, though we couldn't really find confirmation of that. we think it's the younger man on the right side of jesus. and it's kind of ironic, because this summer, the church counsel voted not to put the works back up after their upcoming renovation. apparently some of the older members of the congregation and the church counsel were a bit offended by the nudity and the rawness and were provoked by the works. but perhaps it's not that surprising, as church counsels are not often known for being modern and forward-thinking. it's a shame, because the frescoes were attracting 1000+ visitors per week to the church in what's otherwise a forgotten corner of denmark and a sleepy little town.

moses & loven (moses and the commandments) - from exodus 20:4-5

"thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of any thing that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. thou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor serve them: for i the lord thy god am a jealous god, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me..."

this was the only one based on the old testament. i especially love the golden bull's head. in denmark, it's a clear symbol of a butcher shop and they must have borrowed it from one for the photo. it also made me think of the logo of a steak restaurant that's in tivoli. there was something playful about that - it felt like an inside joke. it also felt a bit like some of the commandments might be about to be violated within the picture - bare breasts, heaped fruit, extravagant gold fabrics and furs. it's the 7 deadly sins waiting to happen. 

bebudelse af jesu fødsel (tidings of jesus' birth)- from luke 1:26-38 

"and the angel said unto her, Fear not, Mary: for thou hast found favour with god. and, behold, thou shalt conceive in thy womb, and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name jesus."

the richness of the dress in this photo exuded luxury. that's not how i had thought of mary before. it also seems medieval, rather than biblical. i like that twist. i found myself thinking about the location where it was photographed - trying to remember which danish castle might have had such a room. i couldn't help but think of kronborg castle in helsingør - it's the hamlet castle, but i suppose that any castle from the area has such bricks and arches. what that has to do with the virgin birth, i don't know, but maybe it's not really about that anyway.

jesus on the cross

and the last photo, a striking jesus on the cross. he set it up on a beach in south fyn. awaiting the wind being just right. though how he got that dove to sit there like that, i have no idea. it does make me think that his supposed loathing of photoshop is more myth than truth. i find this one especially painterly. and i find it also to be the one that most pays homage to the tradition of christ on the cross and the bloodiness of it all. 

this painting is clearly not one of jim lyngvild's, but i thought it was amusing to include it, because it's such an old-fashioned contrast to the others on the walls and it made me think of the small-minded, conservative church counsel that voted not to keep his amazing works. don't they look a dour group?

once again, something is rotten in the state of the danish medical system

it has, once again, become necessary to write a biting letter of complaint to my local doctor's office. i have only stripped the full names from this version, but otherwise, it's as i delivered it to the doctor's office today, capital letters and all. i'm putting it here so i remember what happened and when. sadly, it probably won't be the last such letter i have write. if you want a bit of insight into the danish socialized medical system, read on...

Dear Lægehuset,

It’s been awhile since my last letter to you (that was back in March 2012). I hoped I wouldn't have to write another one, but it seems that I do.

I have had contact with your office on a number of occasions over the past week, due to severe and debilitating pain in my back. Because I knew from past experience that it likely wouldn’t end well, I actually visited the physiotherapist/chiropractor during the efterårsferie, when the issues began, instead of calling your office. However, when the problem took a turn for the worse last week, I had to call. I was, unfortunately, not at home when the problem started, so the first calls were on the phone - one with the assistance of a chiropractor in Copenhagen and the second one (which actually took more than 5 separate telephone calls and a nauseating amount of “ik' aws” from the secretaries to accomplish) myself on Friday, October 30. The first two calls resulted in prescriptions for Diclofenac and Tradolan, neither of which seem to be even remotely effective against severe back pain. (You’d think that you, being the doctors, should know that.)

On Monday, when I returned home, I called for an appointment and saw dr. MM. He took my pain rather lightly and sent me on my merry way to the physiotherapist with very little advice or insight into what might have caused my problem. Happily, the local physiotherapist is much more thorough and professional and dare I say, interested in his work (you all could maybe take a lesson from him on that front). He put me through a battery of tests and explained that he was pretty sure I had a slipped disc at #4 (up higher than the usual slipped disc), and said that I needed an MR scan to confirm it. Luckily, he made the next phone call to dr. MM and I was put into the system for a scan immediately. The physiotherapist also recommended that I have a steroid blocker put into the secondary issue of bursitis in my hip and sent me back over to the doctor’s office to get that, so that I could at least have a little relief from the pain.

Naturally, your office gave me absolutely no information on what the next steps regarding the scan would be. So, I called again on Tuesday during telephone hours and was huffily told that your office had nothing to do with scheduling, but I could call the x-ray clinic at the local hospital and ask (looking up the number myself, as no number was offered). It might have been an idea to give me this information when I stopped by on Monday afternoon to make the appointment for the bursitis block. I sincerely can’t imagine that I’m the only patient who would like information about what’s next and when it will take place. It doesn’t seem too much to ask, and yet, inexplicably, it is.

But, where things got really bad was yesterday when I came to my appointment for the bursitis block injection. I saw dr. TVM, tho’ funnily enough I don’t know his name from him presenting himself to me, I had to look it up on your website. I knew it didn’t bode well when he called my name from across the room and then didn’t even wait for me or greet me with a handshake until I had managed to find which room he’d gone into, far ahead of me. He could surely see that I was in severe pain and not able to walk quickly, but that didn’t matter. He was also very dismissive of whether I needed the shot and at first indicated that he wouldn’t give it to me. But, after checking my hip, he realised there was an acute need and agreed to give the shot. However, he just went and got a needle and the steroid, asked me to point out with my finger where it hurt most and then stuck the needle in and blindly shoved it around in a haphazard manner - not even using ultrasound equipment to find the correct spot as would be NORMAL and INDICATED and STANDARD PROCEDURE in such an instance. Then, without giving me a bandaid to cover the site of the injection, which was disturbingly leaking quite a bit of clear liquid, or letting me know that I could get dressed, he just went back to his desk AND OPENED THE DOOR TO THE HALLWAY. I wasn’t even dressed and furthermore, I was feeling very unwell from the pain and needed to lie down for a few minutes, but he was in a hurry to just get me the hell out of there. I was shocked, but in too much pain and feeling to unwell to protest.

I tried to ask about how I should remain still on my back for the MRI the next day, when I couldn’t lay flat on my back due to the pain. He just dismissed it and said I could try taking two of my Tradolan tablets ahead of the scan. This, despite me telling him that the Tradolan wasn’t effective in taking away my pain, except perhaps the top 10% of it. He just could not wait for me to leave that room and he was unafraid to show it.

When I got out to the counter, where I had to inexplicably pay 50kr for something or other that was inadequately explained (a clean needle? perhaps otherwise we’d have reused an old one on the foreigner?), I became very unwell while I was standing there waiting. I said, in Danish, to the secretary that I needed to sit down. She apparently didn’t hear me and came storming out the door into the waiting room after me, asking what was going on. I must have been white as a sheet and looking very unwell, but she insistently and loudly asked what was wrong, as if I were a small, dull child. There was no discretion and no kindness in it. I realise the office staff are not medical personnel, but it wouldn’t hurt to have a bit of bedside manner when you’re dealing with people who are already feeling ill or who might be in severe pain. Instead, I felt embarrassed and singled out by her loud, gruff treatment in front of the whole waiting room of patients.

Is this really the way you wish to treat your patients, or is it just the non-Danes? I admit I can’t help but think that my accent has something to do with the way I am treated like a second-class citizen. I would note that although I feel the need to write these all-too-frequent letters to you in English, I speak Danish when I’m at the office and have been in Denmark for 18 years, so I have a certain level of fluency. It also means that I have not misunderstood the way I’ve been treated. And I find it completely unacceptable.

You can feel free to call me if you wish to discuss in more detail. But, in any case, I’ll be eagerly awaiting word of what steps you will take to improve your interactions with your patients.

100 happy days :: day 61

i'll admit, 40 days of happy still stretch ahead of me and that seems like a lot. like really a lot. but then, tucked away in a box, when i was looking for something else, i ran across the film from my film swap with the lovely shokoofeh. so i put it on the scanner and scanned at higher dpi rate (that takes a long time, by the way) so that i could have this photo printed in a larger format for our upcoming spring exhibition. our theme is reflections and although this is an alternative interpretation of that, i think the double exposure of denmark layered on iran is beautiful and deep and ponderable. the light, the objects, the dreamy quality, all give pause for reflection. and for a moment of happiness.

no boring chairs, no boring lamps

i'm still nauseated from being driven around in a bus by the worst bus driver in denmark today, so i give you only a little taste of what i saw. featuring, because there are no boring chairs in denmark...chairs. these are colorful theatre chairs at nicolai in kolding.

these stools were allowed to get covered in paint in the wonderful children's workshop room at nicolai in kolding.

these chairs line the public pedestrian corridor prags boulevard on amager in copenhagen.

and there are also no boring lamps in denmark. these fabulous spidery lamps at the new library on rentemestervej in copenhagen's northwest quarter attest to that.

more tomorrow.

denmark you are a mystery to me: or when life turns kafkaesque

there is a deep and abiding faith in clubs and associations in denmark. they're called foreninger. it's something that i, as a non-dane, find really quite incomprehensible. and the ability to create a new association, which is focused on a very specific, narrow purpose (instead of expanding an existing one to include that little focus area) is simply breathtaking. sometimes it appears that they'll create a new association simply to get away from some other people they don't like in the old association (instead of relying on democracy and voting them out). heaven forbid that people made room for one another or adjusted their thinking a little bit to be more inclusive within existing groups. no, no, let's call a general assembly, create a convoluted set of bureaucratic by-laws (which we will debate down to the last comma) and by odin make a new group - one that preferably will really show that other group that we maybe could have been part of, had we had even an ounce of open-mindedness.

deep breath.

it's a fascinating study in group behavior and if i still wanted to be an anthropologist, i'm sure i could easily write an entire dissertation about it. it has everything - social darwinism, cultural capital (ahh, bordieu), biology, psychology, even a bit of pop business theory between the lines. there's jockeying for position, there's the constantly determining who is with the in crowd and who's not. there's the determining who is the albanian (remember my theory that everyone needs their albanian - someone who they feel superior to?) in any configuration (and oddly, it seems to be an ever-shifting thing). and there's the scheming beforehand because of an inherent lack of trust in the democratic process. and don't even get me started on conflicts of interest...

but among the things that strike me most (there are 2), is how utterly meaningless it all is. it's a small town that's part of a larger municipality (more like a county in american terms) and the mayor and politicians on the city council are those ultimately allocating funds and deciding things - so these local councils and committees and associations and clubs are actually full of powerless little wanna-be kings (who to the cool anthropological observer are actually a whole lot more like a flock of banty roosters). ones who apparently couldn't even make it on the pathetic plane that is the municipality level. so the supposed power of the little clubs is utterly impotent.

the second thing that strikes me is how proud the little banty roosters are of their bylaws and their long history of being involved in this whole culture around the little associations. one stood up at a recent meeting and proudly declared that he was a foreningsmenneske (a person of the association - it's one of those things that just has a better ring in danish, mostly because i can't imagine that it truly exists outside of denmark) and went on to pontificate on how bylaws were the glue holding the society together. it was a critique of another association which had mistakenly (and rather publicly) not followed their bylaws to the letter and managed, as happens if you accidentally dissolve the very glue holding the society together, to embarrass themselves - having to call a new general assembly according to the letter of their bylaws. they were even ridiculed in the local press for not announcing the first general assembly two weeks in advance, as required. yes, the behavior, especially between generations, is that petty and small-minded.

and for all of the group mentality, they really don't want to work together across groups - not even if those groups share an interest. it's all very petty and quite exhausting. and even as i try to maintain an anthropologic distance, i couldn't help but feel i had stepped into the bureaucratic hell of a kafka novel as i observed the natives in their natural habitat last evening.

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speaking of boring things, i keep reading really interesting stuff about the boring conference.

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the t boards on pinterest: tattoo in the near future. that's funny. the eyes have it. the hats (and possibly the crowns). tiny houses (this is one of my best boards). to dye for. topographies (another winner). treehouse.

an outdoor art gallery

Væksttræet (The Tree of Growth) by Lithuanian artist Zilvinas P. Augustenas

Stjernekigger (Stargazer) by Japanese artist Koichi Ichiwata

Fragment by Erling Janum

Hjertekammer (Heart Chamber) by Niels Pedersen

Madonna by Liné Ringtved Thordarson

Selvomsorg (Self Sympathy) by Liné Ringtved Thordarson

Tanker (Thoughts) by Thomas Højsholm

Sky Boat by Bo Karberg

Give, the little town where i live (yes, i live in a town called give), is an outdoor art gallery, featuring 60 sculptures, which are placed all around the town. most of them are for sale, tho' some have become so loved by those who saw them regularly that they were purchased by groups or individuals in order to keep them here. i went on a guided tour yesterday, which was wonderful!  our guide was most knowledgable and enthusiastic.

tho' i think in many ways, art is what you make of it yourself, in your own head and heart, it brought the works alive for me to hear the stories behind their creation and go a little bit deeper into their intended meanings.  i'll be sharing more photos over the next few days.

the danes will not be winning any customer service awards

i have to share with you a letter that i wrote today to my local doctor's office. as those of you who are friends with me on facebook know, i've had a cough for more than two months now. today, i had an appointment for a "lung function" test (it's apparently the last straw when they can't figure out anything else), which i dutifully reported for at the appointed time, only to find that there was no appointment on the books. in frustration, i came home and wrote this letter to the doctor's office. i'm about to print it and deliver it by hand, but i had to share it here, capital letters and all. interestingly, my initial reaction is that this isn't even a question of socialized medicine, just an utter lack of customer service and perhaps empathy (and a little bit of being absent from medical school on latin day).  but i'll be interested in your take on it (and i warn you, it's long and it features two phlebotomists and a mean nurse).

here's a picture of a fluffy bunny to take your mind off how many words there are...

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Dear Lægehuset (House of Doctors),

I have to write in English because it’s easier to express myself and I trust that you’ll be able to make it out.  I have had a severe cough since the beginning of January. I’ve been in to your actual clinic 3 times (4 counting an aborted mission today, but we'll get to that).  I’ve called during the 8-9 a.m. calling hours at least 3-4 additional times. And here it is, March 5 and I’m now just really, really good at coughing and we’re no closer to knowing what on earth is causing a cough of such abnormal duration.

I’d like to walk you through what I’ve been through and ask you if think it sounds ok. The first doctor I saw was a young woman who was apparently taking part in a contest to see how many patients she could see in a day (or an hour?) - sadly, I never learned her name, nor was I invited to sit down or even remove my coat, so I cannot tell you who she was (tho’ I could identify her in a line-up if necessary). I was literally in and out in under a minute with nothing but a compliment for my excellent coughing ability.

A week later, after a couple of coughing fits that made me wonder if I should go to the ER, I called during telephone hours. A nice doctor with a very deep voice looked at my medical history and noted that I had had a similar cough in May 2010 and he suggested we try the steroid inhaler that worked at that time, so he called it in to the pharmacy for me and I went and picked it up and began using it as directed.

A couple of weeks later, ragged from the continued coughing, which wasn’t showing any signs of letting up and now getting quite sleep-deprived, I called again and got in to see another gentleman. He was apparently not in a competition that day and actually invited me to take off my coat and sit down, I’ll even grant that he might have told me his name, tho’ I didn’t take note of it and in the haze of my illness, I simply don’t remember. However, I felt that he took my cough seriously and he sent me in for some tests - a blood test and a throat swab, as well as an x-ray. Oddly, other than the x-ray, he didn’t bother to explain to me what he was testing for, nor what I should do next. I went out to the waiting area and was called in for a blood test. The phlebotomist taking my blood was nice, but didn’t explain what the test would be looking for or how long it would take to get results. She just sent me into another nurse’s room, where a nurse who NEVER SAID A SINGLE WORD TO ME (I can only presume because she and I had not met when we were in kindergarden together), not even hello, or “fuck you,” came at me with a long q-tip, not even asking me to open my mouth and say "aah," but leaving me to bewilderedly figure that out for myself while trying not gag on the stick she was wordlessly shoving down my throat. She also failed to explain what the test was for or what I was expected to do next. I made my way to the local hospital for my x-ray and dutifully waited for a call about the results as directed by the nameless doctor.

When no call came, I called in, but having no idea which doctor to ask for by name,  I took the first available doctor in your endless loop phone system. She (again, didn’t catch the name) was a bit short with me; telling me my results weren’t all in and behaving as if I should have known not to call so soon. Not being telepathic and having only dated a medical student during college and thereby only peripherally attended medical school, I had no way of knowing when to call for my test results, since I hadn’t been told. Nor had I been told what I was being tested for, which made it even more challenging to guess (google?) when I should call for the results. So, still coughing, and by this time a real expert, I waited ‘til early the next week and called again. This time, I was blithely told all the test results were negative (but still not told what I had been tested for). I asked if there wasn’t something we could do to get me some relief so I could get proper sleep, rather than waking with coughing fits several times per night. And the nice lady then called in a prescription cough syrup for me (giving me no warnings that I should be careful driving or operating heavy machinery, nor asking me if I had had previous issues with codeine products in the past (hmm, would have thought that was standard)).

I took a few doses of the cough syrup several evenings in a row, trying to get some sleep, but the presence of actual opium in it made me feel worse, so I stopped taking it and just continued coughing, which by now I was doing at Olympic-levels. In desperation, I came in for a third visit. This time, I saw Dr. M and I only got her name because I insisted on it and typed it into my phone as she spelled it to me.

What is up with not introducing yourselves? I realize that I’ve never seen the same doctor twice, so perhaps it’s unnecessary since you apparently have what I can only characterize as an endless supply or consider them disposable like one-time surgical gloves.

Dr. M tested me for allergies, as when I came in this time, I suggested that maybe the reason my cough didn’t go away was because it was a symptom of an allergic reaction. (See that, I came with the diagnosis idea and again, me = no medical school.) I learned to my relief that now allergies can be tested via a blood test, rather than the panel of pricks on your back that I had back in 1996 at an allergist in the US. So, I went in to the phlebotomist again and she took a rather alarming amount of rather alarmingly large vials of my blood. This time, probably because I knew her name, Dr. M told me the results would take a week and I should call again then, during the regular telephone hours.

And that brings us ALMOST to the end of our story. I dutifully called a week later and talked to a woman doctor (not Dr. M, as she wasn’t listed among those available on the numbers to press that morning) who said that I was very allergic to birch, but not to milk or wheat (which had been suspects, as I often have a coughing fit after eating dinner). I had to ask if there were any signs of allergy to molds and she looked again at the results and seemed unsure whether the last one was a mold or not (it being listed by the latin name - apparently not covered in medical school?), but yes, it showed that I was allergic to it, whatever it was. I asked what the next step was and she started advising me to have someone out to my house to check for skimmelsvamp. And while I appreciate homeowner’s advice, I was calling for MEDICAL advice. When I pressed her on that, she made me an appointment to come in for a lung function test today at 13:45. Someone along the way had suggested that I might need a lung function test, so I guess she was covering all bases. But, here’s where it gets ever better...I show up today for my appointment and the machine in the lobby tells me that I don’t have an appointment. I ring the bell and ask when my appointment is and the secretary tells me that I don’t have one at all. Now, I grant you that I am not a native speaker of Danish (hence the writing in English, which I assume you already got), but I did not misunderstand this. And I did not fail to note it down correctly. I repeated it back to her and she verbally confirmed on the phone and I noted it in my calendar.

And meanwhile, I continue to cough. My conservative American friends are having a fieldday with the story on Facebook as they think it has all the symptoms of all of the ills of socialized medicine written all over it. But, I don’t think it’s a question of that, it’s a question of customer service, or an astonishing lack thereof. And a symptom of a system where I have never been assigned a doctor that is MY doctor and knows me, but instead get bounced around and “practiced” on by an endless array of one-time doctors. But I can tell you, as limited as my attendance in medical school was, it is NOT NORMAL to cough - really, really cough - for two months straight. Oh, and by the way, tho’ not a single person asked me along the way, I am NOT a smoker.

I’m very interested to see what happens next.

------------

i'll keep you posted.

i guess there's a good reason why they call it "practicing" medicine. they're really just practicing.

the first star

in honor of tonight's oscars, i thought i'd share asta nielsen's very racy dance (shockingly so for the time) from the abyss (afgrunden), an early danish silent film from 1910. did you know that asta nielsen was the first person to be called a film star? the term was coined about her. this film, plus a couple of others where alternate sad endings were made for the russian market (russian audiences wanted everyone to die or be ruined in the end), were all i knew about denmark the first time i visited. both film and i have come a long way.

in which she overuses the word charming

germany is but a little over an hour away, so we made our way down to flensburg to meet judith and family for lunch yesterday. we also stopped at several of the fleggaard shops - they're a veritable hell of danes stocking up on cheap beer and sodas by the pallet-load. we were looking for the one that sells appliances so we could do some comparison-shopping, but never did find it. we came away laden with a giant jar of nutella, chocolate, sausage, some interesting vodka (absolut watkins, which is coffee, almond and chili-flavored) and cider. we were also a little sick to our stomachs at the gluttony of our fellow countrymen. people don't realize that the 5 billion DKK per year that's spent buying cheap canned beer south of the border has a direct consequence on the quality of their schools and roads and health care. the experience left us resolved to buy our appliances in denmark, where it will benefit both a local shop owner and our public services, even if it does mean paying a bit extra.

we went on into flensburg proper - it's really just a few kilometers into germany and is truly a border town - with signs in danish and german and people seemingly speaking both. but with a population of 88,000, it feels like a proper city - with squares and cafes and a pedestrian street and winding little cobblestone streets with charming alleyways that hold unique little shops and cafes, all tucked in to be discovered.

the chains were all there on the main pedestrian street and husband remarked that it was both reassuringly familiar and disappointingly so. but judith showed us the way to a charming side street where the shops lining the narrow, cobblestone street were all unique - shoe shops, yarn shops, unique clothing, galleries, bicycles, special gardening supplies, lovely wooden toys.

we couldn't get a table at a great little café down one little alley, but found another one with good atmosphere. we tried local flensburger beer (rather bitter), had lunch and a latte and some longed-for good craic.

on the way home, we wondered why, when people love little charming streets of shops, city planners and designers give us soulless shopping centers filled with chain stores and wide, empty squares that no one uses? when a little winding street, where we discover something delightful around the next corner or tucked into a courtyard off the beaten path, brings us a rush of joy, why do they give us glaringly lit uncharming malls?

this little shop was filled with a lot of danish and scandinavian design, and yet you never see such a lovely little shop with such a homey, unique feel in denmark. denmark is filled with chains and even tho' the clothing shops have different names, there are only a couple of big companies behind them, so the variety is limited and something unique very hard to come by. even in decor, they're all the same - even with the danish brands that i like - like noa noa, one shop is the same as all the others.

i suppose i have a little bit of a case of the grass being greener on the other side of the border. it seemed that not only was life there more affordable, it was more charming and unique as well. and tho' i suppose that flensburg, from the perspective of the rest of germany, is just a sleepy little backwater border town on the periphery, it seemed quite lovely to me.

in which she exposes that the mafia is live and well in denmark

about two months ago, i made a big mistake. like many mistakes, i didn't realize it at the time. i decided to purchase a domain ending in dot dk. i am starting a new business providing all kinds of services in english - from writing to translation to teaching - with a couple of friends.  since our target audience for the business is danish, i shrugged off my preference for dot com domains and decided to buy a danish one.

the first red flag (which i blithely ignored) was that you cannot buy a .dk domain through a large international provider like GoDaddy (where i've bought all of my other domains). so i went to a danish provider called DanDomain and for 123.75DKK i purchased markmywords.dk. i figured that afterwards i'd just move it over to GoDaddy where all of my other domains reside and then manage them in one place. (oh, how wrong i was).

minutes after i purchased the domain, i got another email from something called dk-hostmaster, telling me that i needed to go to their site to complete registration of my domain. they gave me new log-in and password to do so (if you're counting, this will now make 3 different log-ins and passwords to get to my domain once i move it to GoDaddy  - which at this point, i still believed was possible). but, having been in denmark for going on fourteen years, i figured ok, this is just danish bureaucracy at its best, so i dutifully signed in and activated my new domain.

then, i proceeded to look through the help on both DanDomain and dk-hostmaster (which is in english until you really need it) to find out how to move my domain over to GoDaddy. by now the red flag had become a red flashing light, and as i got a back and forth conflicting answers with DanDomain telling me to ask dk-hostmaster and dk-hostmaster telling me to ask DanDomain, the flashing light began to sound alarm bells as well.  still i brushed it all aside and thought i would be able to solve it. i found on GoDaddy's site that i had to own a domain for 60 days before it could be moved, so i decided to just try to point the domain at our servers from where it was.

again, i was so naive. i dutifully entered the server name on dk-hostmaster, where it said that they had to approve such a move. they then proceeded to ask the most intrusive and unnecessary questions of the server admin in the UK (where our j2research.com site resides) that they decided they didn't want anything to do with it! what happened to the openness of the internet?  i began to think of dk-hostmaster, a rather mysterious organization, as The Godfather, at about that point.

turns out that dk-hostmaster is a godfather of sorts. i thought they were a state organization, but they aren't, they are a consortium of all of the private web hosting providers in denmark and they keep tight-fisted control, like any good mafia boss, of all use of .dk domains.

by this point, i wanted to create the website on google sites, where it would be FREE and where they surely couldn't say no to that. at last i talked to a support guy at DanDomain who sounded sensible (in retrospect, i should have asked his name, as i'm quite sure that corlione was there somewhere). he said that if i purchased a DNS-forwarding subscription for a mere 120DKK per year, i could point the site wherever i wanted it. what he neglected to mention was that it was wherever i wanted it as long as it was in denmark and i was paying through the nose for it). so i dutifully fronted up the 120DKK and tried to point the domain.

by now, you can guess what happened. nothing, that's what. despite having entered the IP address (we had returned to the idea of the UK servers) of our servers, all that showed was a redirect to the mob boss at dk-hostmaster.

so last monday, in resignation, i finally purchased web hosting to the tune of 923DKK per year from DanDomain. of course, for this premium price, i then learned that i couldn't even have a PHP-based website, as that would require another 50DKK per month. yes, the danish web mafia was trying to squeeze even more money out of me, just so i could use open source programming on my own friggin' domain!

happily my business partner's husband brilliantly stayed up late converting our PHP-based site to javascript and it's now up and running. have a look if you'd like. it's here at markmywords.dk.

and the lesson in all of this? never, ever, ever buy a .dk domain. the real world wide web is freer than that (unless, of course, they get their way with this SOPA thing).

quaint little churches: part II

Hejnsvig

Stenderup

i'm beginning to think my theory that all danish churches have dutch renaissance architecture is a little off. two more little country churches dash my theory. so i have a new theory: churches in denmark are painted white. or is it just a hypothesis? (i knew i should have paid attention in high school science class instead of reading dostoevsky.)

quaint little churches

i've suddenly started noticing quaint little country churches in sleepy little towns everywhere i go (and i go through quite a lot of sleepy little towns these days). most danish churches have a dutch renaissance architecture to them, but in recent days i've been noticing ones that don't.

despite not at all being religious, i do love churches as buildings. the thoughtfulness that has gone into their design - whether it's simple or extravagant - can always be admired. it's an architecture that somehow does often capture some holiness or at the very least a reverent hush.

i only snapped these as i went by, hopping out of the car on a windy, cold day to quickly capture them and then get back on my way, but i do love to go inside. especially if there's no one there. the quiet and the smell of warm wax are soothing. you can always find a moment of respite in the quiet, calm, holiness of a church space. and if there's anywhere that god (or odin or thor or whatever name you like to use) might be listening, it's surely in one of this little country churches.

sunrise - sunset

sunrise 

sunset

sunrise, sunset
sunrise, sunset
swiftly fly the years
one season following another
laden with happiness and tears.

(from fiddler on the roof)
(photos from my day)

pushing my buttons

this week, sabin's class it set to participate in the PIRLS study - an international study on reading levels in the fourth grade.  after reading both the danish university that is behind it here and the PIRLS site itself, i am no closer to an answer as to what the purpose of the test really is. there is a lot of vague information about how the information will be used to improve policy and decision-making regarding the education of children. that, i could support. but i wonder if that's it.

we received a questionnaire today that we should answer as parents in connection with the study. it's that questionnaire that has me worried. a few examples:

3.) which language(s) did your child speak before s/he started school?

i would be ok with that, but the answer choices are:
a.) danish
b.) turkish
c.) arabic
d.) serbo-croatian/bosnian
e.) punjabi (is that even a language? isn't it a place?)
f.) other

the same languages are listed under the question of "what language does the child's father/mother primarily speak?" are these particular languages politically motivated? and to what end?

and i have to say that with all of the news of late of the crimes and misdemeanors of the Danish Integration Ministry, i am concerned about the purpose of these questions. those languages were clearly deliberately chosen and i'd like to know by whom and why? those cannot possibly be the languages universal to the international version of the test. so to what purpose do they want to know about those particular languages? by participating, do we contribute to further tightening of the noose around foreigners?

i don't want to be one of those uncooperative parents, but seriously, shouldn't we have more information about what we're contributing to? what purpose it will serve? and who has ordered it? i think we all need to get better at questioning authority. and i'm starting here.

intersections 5: weaving meaning

a few more shots from the film swap with shokoofeh. see the others i've shared here.

i'm still finding magic in these shots, i think they're probably some of the most amazing photography i've ever done. and to think of how unintentional the magic is feels profound. i feel there's something so deep about them, so deep that it defies words, but definitely doesn't defy meaning. and meaning without words is an interesting thing to consider...

an agreement among girls

a

in a bubble

it seems that in the 4th grade, there is a lot of focus on the social competencies of the girls. any signs of mean girlness are being nipped in the bud. and it can only be a good thing.  i don't think our child is one of the mean girls, but it can be hard to tell.  today, the girls in her class all drafted and signed the following agreement. it's a bit of a 4th grade girl manifesto...

being a girl in grade 4

we know that we feel best and most comfortable and happiest among the girls in our classroom when...

  ~ everyone can play together, across all lines

~ everyone can play together and be good friends

~ nobody is teased or pushed out

~ nobody is ignored

~ an agreement is an agreement

~ we are careful about too many groups

~ we don't talk behind people's backs or gossip about one another, 

but speak properly and directly to one another.

~ we don't send dumb SMSes that can easily be misunderstood

agreement entered into by the girls of grade 4, february 22, 2011:

~ everyone can play together

~ nobody will sit alone when we play, without being asked if they want to join in

~ everyone must be active and try to participate in the play

~ we have to listen carefully to what is said when we make agreements and speak to one another

~ we have to say no with care

~ we will try not to say no during school hours

~ make proper playdates after school and be open to those who come and ask

~ be very careful about playdates (write them in a calendar)

~ take care not to double book playdates

~ teachers can and should talk to the girls about who we will play with and what we will play

* * *

although encouraging fourth graders to keep their appointments written in a calendar worries me slightly, after the tales i recently heard of bullying in the classrooms of the suburbs of chicago, i am very happy that the school takes such a strong stance on bullying. there's nothing worse than mean girls, unless it's mean girls with a packed calendar. 

intersections 4: magic on film

you may have noticed that i am quite an immediate sort of person. the photos i use here are usually taken on the day i post them (tho' my clarity birds from a couple of days ago were taken last summer).  i have a bad habit of not really looking back, even in my iPhoto. which means that i completely forgot that i hadn't shared all of the wonderful photos from the second roll of the film swap with shokoofeh. so here are some more for you here on the cusp of the weekend.

i think i'll just let them speak for themselves.

happy weekend, one and all.