An Incredible Experience I Just Had To Share

I had the amazing experience today of conversing with an absolute stranger.

I have learned a lot from the Travel writing course I’m currently taking at DIS. Things that I’ve integrated into my blog writing style and have seen personal growth after just three classes. But one out of the many key elements I’ve learned from my class is that, as important as it is to get the descriptions, feelings and moods of certain places you visit for the sake of transporting the reader to the exact place you stood, it is equally as important to include characters: people you meet while traveling to and visiting said place. I didn’t realize how important this key element was until today, when I actually tried it out.

Class today was held not in a classroom, but at Ørstedsparken (a beautiful park near my home) and Legepladsen på Israels Plads (a gorgeous square adjacent to the park). While it was nice to get out of the classroom for the day, it was rather humid and gray today. None the less, my class and I sucked it up because we knew that we were about to learn something truly incredible. We are in a different country, different city, than what we’re used to, and with a professor willing to take us out of the classroom for two hours to apply our knowledge to the ‘real world’, it would be rather unfortunate for us to waste such an opportunity.

I crossed the road by Legepladsen på Israels Plads, not really knowing what to expect as I hadn’t explored the area yet. What I discovered was a beautiful, smooth cement square with baseball hoops, foursquare courts, large step pyramids to sit on, tiny man made canals with fountains, a tine skate park, and a whole bunch of children with the faces of freedom running around laughing and playing together. In that moment, the sun broke through the clouds, briefly illuminating this urban playground, showing me all of the beauty of Legepladsen på Israels Plads.

Now, I’m going to take a detour before I tell you about the stranger I encountered to tell you little a side story that sets the mood for the rest of the story, the rest of my class.

My class met in front of this large, burnt Sienna colored rock that sat on a podium. I was confused as to why we were sitting in front of this rock and what significance this rock had considering it was surrounded by food trucks, forklift pallet benches, and tables (the ending of a food festival). This wasn’t just some rock someone threw on a podium for art, this rock was something much, much more. This is what my professor told the class:

The origin story of this rock goes back to the 1940s, World War II era.

In 1940, the Nazis decided to invade Denmark, putting an end to the Danes lack of involvement in the war. For three years, the Danish jews continued to live their lives in Denmark. Ostracized, yes, but they had avoided being sent to the concentration camps. But in 1943, that all changed, the Nazis decided that this was the time to get rid of the Danish jews. But the Danes wouldn’t give up that easily. Danish fisherman gathered together, in the dead of night, to smuggle all the Danish jews onto their boats and sail them to Sweden, a neutral country. These fisherman and Swedish people managed to save 90-95% of the Danish Jews. This rock, the Israeli Rock, brought over from Israel on the 25th anniversary of rescue operation, serves of a commemoration, a reminder of the heroics of the fisherman and the Swedes. Engraved on this rock is “and it became night, and it became morning.” There is an identical rock from Denmark in Israel as well, with the appropriate title, the Danish Rock, symbolism the connection between the two countries.

At the completion of this story, a wave of what I can only describe as comfort and strength washed over me. Not just as a Jew, but as me, a student abroad in a country I don’t know, I felt this sense of security, like these people were here for me, and it was that strength that would allow me to do what I did next.

I, and my classmates, had two parts of an assignment to do today. Part one was simply to sit and observe the people around us: the people enjoying Ørstedsparken and Legepladsen på Israels Plads. We spend this time actively learning how to identify and integrate a character into our writing. I watched a young couple, no more than sixteen years old, in a crowded square with screaming children running all around them, inhabit their own little world, where they only saw each other. I watched a group of teenage boys in Ørstedsparken, eating lunch together. I could tell that they were all friends, but the hilarity of it was that none of them were really talking, as if the only thing they could really comprehend in the moment was the sandwich (which must have been very good) in front of them.

Lastly, I observed this group of school girls: one girl who was maybe ten or eleven years old, and four younger girls who were probably five or six years old. I watched as the older girl picked up one of the younger girls and put her on her shoulders, and proceeded to walk her over to a tree, the other girls following behind, and grab the tree branched, shaking the tree for all its worth. The girls around them were giggling and squealing as a couple leaves fell to the ground beneath their feet. I could easily tell these little girls looked up to this older girl, they followed her around like duckling to their mother.

Although, it did dawn on me that I did not see a single adult come over to them and tell them, a ten year old girl and group of five and six year old girls, that what they were doing was potentially dangerous. I knew for a fact that it I had try to do that with my friends at that age on the playground at home, the recess monitor would come running.

However, observing these people was not the story of the day, it’s what happened in part two of the assignment.

Part two of the assignment was actually going up to someone, starting and then having a conversation with them. This was to teach us how to interview, how to go about finding someone to interview, and how to as for an interview. Now, going up and talking to strangers can either be a hit or miss for me: I can either do it, or I can’t. Normally, I’d be very nervous about going up to a stranger, no matter where I was. But after hearing the story of the Israeli Rock, it was almost as if I didn’t know what fear was.

I approached a women with a dog who I had seen earlier. Her dog was very well behaved and could even do a couple tricks. I hoped to start a conversation with her, maybe find out what the Danish dog-culture was like. But just as I was about to reach her, another women and her husband and dog got to her first. So there I was, awkwardly standing five feet from these people with their dogs, desperately trying butt into the conversation to ask if I could pet the dog.

Well it wasn’t the women who I had intended to talk to, but looking back at it now, I’m glad that she was the one I talked to.

“May I pet your dog?” I asked, trying to remain calm.

She smiled. “Of course you can.”

A very cute, black-haired retriever mix proceeded to jump on me and try to lick my face, sending me into instant giggles and relaxing me completely. This Dog’s name was Marta, a seven year old pup with a lot of energy. Marta was often walked around Ørstedsparken with this women and her husband. After being asked if I had a dog at home, I told the women that I loved petting other people’s dogs because I did not have one of my own anymore. My standard poodle had lived a long life, my parents getting her as a puppy a little before they adopted me.

“So, you grew up with the dog then?” The women asked, a look of wonder and sympathy in her gray-blue eyes.

I nodded, petting Marta a little more. “Yes, I did, and I loved every minute of it.”

We talked a little more about the dog culture in Denmark, as I had asked, telling her I was a student studying abroad for the semester and that I had seen so many people out with dogs, but I had always been hesitant to ask if I could pet the dogs. I’m so used to the dog-culture back home in the US being that if you start cooing as a dog walks past, or a dog runs up to you, the owner’s attitude is very much “oh look my dog likes you, great judge of character, pet them please.” That has very much not been the case her in Denmark (it could also be that these dogs are much more well behaved).

The woman kind of chuckled at my question before answering. “As a dog owner, I love it when people come up to me and ask if they can pet her. Dogs need to socialize just as much as we do.”

It was the words I had been yearning to hear. I could pet dogs with no fear now.

“You said you were studying here? How long are you in Copenhagen for?” She asked, her stance relaxing as she seemingly hunkered down for a chat.

“I’m here studying architecture until the end of December.” I said. “Just one semester.”

She smiled again. “That’s wonderful to hear.”

Seeing as the conversation was coming to an end, I thanked her for letting me chat with her.

She seemed to light up suddenly, an idea popping into her head. “Well, if you would ever like to talk more, I can give you my number and we can chat again over coffee, or if you would like to have a connection, a contact here in Copenhagen.” She said it cautiously, knowing I had just met her five minutes ago.

She extended her hand to me. “My name is Dorothy. This is my husband Paul.” She added with a small laugh. “And this is my dog, Marta.”

I smiled and took her hand in mine, shaking it. “And my name is Lilly, it’s pleasure to meet you.”

Dorothy reminded me of a women who has children who were older and out of the house. She had this look of pure happiness and content, something I often didn’t see in people back home. It was her presence, kindness, and welcoming expressions that drew me to continue the conversation with her, rather than try to tap with my intended person. She embodied this sense of safety and acceptance that I had felt after hearing the story of the Israeli Rock.

We parted ways, promising to get coffee soon.

There were a couple things I learned today, about some general things, Copenhagen and myself. I think today’s class finally made me feel like Copenhagen was home, and that the people here are genuinely nice and want to talk to you. I also learned that I do have the ability, the confidence, to talk to people I meet on the streets or in the parks, more than just asking for directions. That felt like a pivotal point in my self discovery as a student abroad. Lastly, if not the most important thing I learned today, something that I know will carry me through the rest of my writing and interviewing career:

Dogs are perfect ice breakers.

- Lilly

Ørstedsparken