Can you hear me now?

September 12,  2023

We changed planes in Amsterdam after traveling overnight from JFK. The almost full flight was extremely quiet — a foreshadowing of what to expect. After landing in Copenhagen at 9:30 in the morning and getting settled in, Debbie and I started to explore the city. We had arrived by cab in an electric vehicle which should have prepared us for the quiet. While walking around we both turned to each other and said, “it’s so quiet!” I felt like I didn’t have my hearing aids in.

We learned that most of the cars are electric and that Copenhagen is vying with Amsterdam to be the most bicycle-friendly city. And that while the Danes are very nice, you have to be exceedingly careful when crossing the bikes lines which are only marked by a very low curb.  

After discovering this, and fortifying ourselves with some herring, we went back to our very quiet Airbnb apartment. I had signed up for a mid-afternoon tour to the Free Community of Christiania, with some generous background about Denmark and Copenhagen on the way. And thus began my slow reassessment of the Danish.

Before leaving, Debbie and I read the book, My Year of Living Danishly about a Brit’s quest to understand how the Danes were the happiest people in the world, despite the long cold winters and high taxes. We loved learning how their schools are much more relaxed, work hours are much shorter and men are much more involved in child rearing. Okay they drink heavily, divorce frequently and are often rigid about rules but their social networks are strong and satisfaction is high.

One fact toward the end of the book that struck me was the “alike” index. It seems that Danes are one of the most homogenous populations around. And that studies show that homogeneous populations are usually more happy.

But back to the tour. Our guide was a youngish Brit who has been living in Denmark for several years. We weren’t but 10 minutes into the tour when he regaled us with stories about the famous Danish physicist, Niels Bohr. The man was a character and besides his brilliance as a scientist, was also known for being a non-stop talker.  Apparently in the late 1930s, Bohr was visited somewhat serreptiously by German scientists who were asking in a roundabout way about the possibility of making a fission bomb. The Danes became very concerned that the Nazis were going to kidnap Bohr so spirited him away to Sweden. 

Once in Sweden, Bohr insisted that the Danes evacuate the roughly 7,000 Jews from Copenhagen. However the Swedes were not anxious to bring the Jews in. So Bohr, who was Jewish gave them a choice. If you send all the Jews to Sweden, he said he would help the US build a nuclear bomb. If they didn’t bring the Jews, then he would collaborate with the Russians on a bomb. This was a pretty safe bet because the Danes hated the Russians! After that, the Danes arranged for the transport in fishing vessels and 95% of the Jews fled to Sweden. And safety.

But Bohr was not safe in Sweden. The Swedes were trying to keep his presence quiet but Bohr would rush to answer any ringing telephone and answer saying “Niels Bohr speaking.” Plus when he walked around town, he would proudly introduce himself to everyone.

The Swedes finally got fed up and stripped down a fighter jet to make it into a very fast transport vehicle. They got Niels Bohr on board. The first problem was that Bohr had a very large head and they had trouble finding a helmet that fit. They finally found one that barely fit and loaded him onto the jet with Bohr continuing to chatter away.

However, after a short time he pulled off the helmet because it was so tight. The pilots knew Bohr subsequently passed out because he stopped talking! So they sped to the drop-off point as quickly as possible and recussitated him. Bohr’s reaction was that he must have trusted the pilot so much that he took a nap on the flight. Who knows how Robert Oppenheimer managed the talkative Bohrs!

September 13 — Copenhagen

I heard that the museums in Denmark can be expensive so found out the free day for the nearby Copenhagen History Museum. The breakfast place we were hoping to eat at was closed so we continued the half block to the museum. And noticed there was a cafe there with amazing smells wafting from the building. So we started the morning with a Danish breakfast of cheese, yogurt, blueberry chocolate cake, and a fresh bun. I heard that gluten sensitive people can sometimes eat the bread in Europe so I’ve been trying it out in small quantities. So far, so good!

The museum was definitely worth the price of admission! Actually, it was quite well done, with very creative uses of technology overlaying the older parts of the museum. 

The real shocker for the day came in our visit to the Grand Synagogue. The security was intense, with two policemen, ID checks, and reservation confirmations. Then we wove past the large plates of bullet-proof glass (artistically etched by an Israeli artist) into the sanctuary. There has been a shooting there and one of the young teachers was killed, hence the memorial play structure built in his honor and pictured below.) 

The synagogue was white with lots of polished gold trim and looked just like a church! (Which wasn’t too surprising since it was designed by a church architect and the Danish Jews were actually anxious to convince their non-Jewish neighbors they weren’t so different from them. The plaque even labels the rabbi as a “priest.”)  Even the pews had little doors on them. I just remembered from some church tours that this may have had a function of helping to keep the pews warmer in cold weather.

The first of many surprises during that tour was learning that the Jews were not welcome in Denmark. It wasn’t until around the early 17th century that there were any, and that was because King Christian IV was in financial trouble and invited the Sephardic Jews in as money lenders. They were only minimally allowed to participate in Danish society and were restricted to just a couple of careers such as banking. They even had to apply to the king to get married. After the king stiffed the Jews and didn’t pay back the loans, almost all of the Jews left. 

A few Jews migrated to Denmark after they liberalized some of their laws in the 1840s, allowing Jews to build a synagogue, but only if the services were all in Danish! By the start of WWII, there were still only 7,000 Jews in Denmark. 

Much has been made of how the Danes helped the Jews to safety in Sweden. But this was because of Niels Bohr’s pressure on the government, which was collaborating with the Nazis. And when they did help, the Danish fisherman charged the Jews exorbitant rates to transport them — equivalent to four months salary. Yes, there was some risk involved, but they definitely took advantage of the situation!

Later, I asked our guide, who was remarkably candid, about the story of the Danish king protecting the Jews by wearing, and encouraging others to where, a yellow star of David on their clothing when this was mandated by the Nazis. It turns out this was nothing more than a fairy tale. The Nazis never required this. Our knowledge of this was apparently based on a children’s book!

All of this has me reflecting on the differences between the Danes and the Dutch. The Dutch welcomed people of all beliefs very early on because it was good for business. And Jews have thrived there for hundreds of years. While the Danes are now very progressive in many areas from the environment to a broad safety net to a healthy balance of work and leisure, much of this has only been in the last 50 years or so. 

September 14 — Copenhagen

I know the Danes are quite relaxed with nudity, and, in fact you are allowed to even walk naked down the street. But I was still a little surprised by the line of sight in this bathroom. But I did appreciate the usual fine Danish design, this time for their urinals that had no splash back.

Since I can’t ride a bike because of the prostate surgery years ago, taking a Segway tour. The thought was a little scary because of the heavy use of cobblestones and the regular bumps meant to separate bicycle traffic from pedestrians. But thanks to an earlier experience on a Segway with Eli in Miami, it didn’t take long to get my bearings. 

I loved how we were able to zip all over town and then stopping regularly with our very funny, young guide telling us about Danish history and customs. Like the huge amount of alcohol they consume and can carry with them and consume on the streets.

We learned about the negotiations between the very wealthy owner of Maersk Shipping lines and his offer to pay for a big opera house. He had some requests that were a little hard to swallow, like locating it in the front yard of a historic site on the river, so it took several months for the Parliament to agree to it. When they were ready, the Maersk owner invited them to his corporate offices to finalize the agreement and had the Prime Minister and member of Parliament ushered into a very cold conference room where he left them for 45 minutes.”Now we are even,” he said and they worked out the remaining details . . . In a warmer room.

August 15 — Copenhagen

Months ago, when I realized we would be here for Rosh Hashanah, I reached out to the Reform synagogue to see if we could attend. They said yes and invited us to participate in a dinner afterwards. It was outside of the city center and our first foray into seeing how the rest of Copenhagen lives. The predominant buildings were five-story apartment blocks with commercial on the ground floor. 

At the entrance to the “synagogue” were three well-armed security officers and a lively 80-year-old ex-pat. Arthur has lived in Copenhagen for 35 years and relishes his role as a greeter. I hung with him for a while at the door and learned something about the founding of the synagogue 24 years ago. There were just a few reform Jews who would get together every once in a while.

Then a new Ambassador and team from the US arrived and the second in command was Jewish. He invited some of the Jews in the community over and to his surprise 60 people showed up. From that emerged their congregation which meets monthly in a Unitarian Church, just 100 feet from the US Embassy.

The service was in English and Hebrew and the congregation was quite a mixture. Some were academics in town for a couple of years, there was a significant number from the queer community, and a fair number of families with young children. An interesting twist was that Rosh Hashanah falls on the Sabbath this year so we are not supposed to sound the shofar or sing Avenu Malkanu. This caused a fair amount of discussion in the ritual committee and they came up with a compromise. So before the lighting of the candles and the official start of the service, we did both. The shofar player is apparently a very accomplished musician who had an assistant join her in the front. I was puzzled into she produced the incredibly long ram’s horn and the assistant helped hold it up for her. Rather than play the traditional mixture of short and long blasts, Raquel played a series of long, notes in a beautiful tone of varied intensity. And when I say long, you need to think in terms of Dizzy Gillespie!

This being Denmark, the challah was gluten-free and baked by a trans member of the congregation. (I appreciated the effort but it was pretty inedible.) I learned this from his tattooed fiancé who sat next to me at dinner. However the rest of the vegetarian meal was unbelievable and the caterer had them read the detailed descriptions of all the dishes. Lots of different mushrooms, pomegranate seeds, potatoes and colorful combinations. It was delicious. And afterwards I helped entertain a hyperactive five-year old who spent most of the evening running full blast around the hall.

We kicked off the morning with an al-fresco breakfast along one of the canals and then to the Parliament for a scheduled tour. They don’t gloss over the glitches in their history, like the fact that Danes didn’t get much in the way of voting rights until after many other countries. And only after the King watched other royalty lose their heads. Even that was grudging and it took lots of protests, and several new constitutions before this happened. 

There’s a casualness and irreverence that comes out even in a stately building like the Parliament. The Prime Ministers get to choose their own portraits and the range of style is amazing, including one so abstract you can’t make out any of the facial features.

They also commissioned an artist to create a plant motif above the chair rail that winds around the building. And he added some social commentary by painting a slug and a spider under the board listing the committee meetings. Lots of animals and insects are found around the halls.

After a pastry break in the beautiful public courtyard with fountains and extensive plantings, we entered the Jewish Museum. The proximity of the museum in the Parliament complex makes quite a statement. As  did the interior of the museum in which the floor, walls and ceiling were in constantly changing angles meant to disorient the viewer. 

The museum had some very well-done exhibits such as a section of a kind of doll-house with animated figures, a hybrid costumed woman in video who manipulated objects in the second screen below her. They used silhouette animations to tell the story of a conflict between the Sephardic and Ashkenazi Jewish community over the graveyard. Apparently the Sephardic community prefers their gravestones to lie flat on the ground. They couldn’t agree and erected a fence between the two sections of the graveyard.

Deborah headed back to the apartment and I ventured along the river to the Danish Architecture Museum. They included some elements of Danish design in general such as their distinctive chairs and lamps. (Our family must have had some touch of Danish blood because we had very few pieces of furniture in the house growing up but one of them was a Scandinavian wingback armchair (a model of which is in the Smithsonian) and the other was a Riya rug.) I recognized the iconic Danish style lamps in the apartment we are renting, which is itself a model of excellent Danish design. 

In the rental apartment, there are no ceiling lights, just a collection of location specific lights for reading, a couple above the dining room table, and others to balance out the lighting for the whole apartment. The kitchen “cabinets” are a series of cubicles of different depths made of plywood with the edge deliberately showing. The floors, walls and ceiling are all white but with an extensive collection of original, and unusual artwork on them. 

August 16 — Copenhagen

I was dragging my heels this morning about our having to head almost two kilometers out of central Copenhagen to find a laundromat. Apparently most Copenhagens live in apartment buildings and they usually contain washers (and occasionally dryers). Yes, there is still a healthy market for clothespins.

So I dawdled and then proceeded to head us in the wrong direction while we were carrying several bags of  dirty laundry. It was heavy with all that dirt. After wandering around for a while, and in frustration I flagged down a cab coming by and we sped over. The laundry was a small, spotless place nestled among lots of very popular restaurants. 

The laundry system is so different there, and the instructions were in Danish, so I resorted to asking someone on the street if they could come help translate. They did so enthusiastically. The soap is automatically dispensed and everything is electronic. So I swiped my credit card at a central spot, selected the water temperature and type of wash, and then indicated the number of the washer. 

Our plan was to eat while the laundry was going. However the nearby restaurants were so popular we couldn’t get into any of them on a late Saturday morning. We wound up eating a little further out at a so-so place. But the timing was perfect. Since Deborah’s knees were acting up, she hung in the laundromat once the loads were in the dryer and I set out to explore.

Across the street were some modest two-story row houses that looked like they would have been low-to-middle income housing. But after the market crash in 2008, they were discovered and are now very sought after, with a high preponderance of architects and their families living there. There’s a real sense of community and when I was there one of the blocks had set up a bouncy castle as well as a tent for a block party.

I hung out with several of the neighbors and learned some surprising things. One told me about a group of engineers who had just graduated from the technical college in Aarhus, the second largest city in Denmark. They had an idea for a new software product and approached Microsoft. The company liked it but were only in if their team moved to Seattle. Apparently the group didn’t want to leave Denmark so approached Google. They said “what the hell” and supported the group while they stayed in the town. And the product: Google Chrome! Not a bad investment. 

The young dad who told me the story is a data analyst who gave up his teaching position to work for . . . Wait for it . . . Google. They now have significant operations in Denmark. Not only is that neighborhood incredibly inviting but it is half a block from a beautiful park, adjacent to lots of shops and restaurants, and well-served by mass transit.

Speaking of which, the Danish metro system is fantastic. Trains come very three minutes or so, the stations are clean and quiet (rubber wheels on the subway cars?) and it’s pretty easy to navigate. Oh, there are no turnstiles, it’s strictly on the honor system.

On a lark, we went to a very upscale equivalent of an IKEA. The prices are mind-blowing and I found myself whether I could make some of the items, like their lamps. I think I will try my hand at the ones made of twisted wood laminate.

After a while, I began realizing that almost all the furniture and much of the clothing are all white, tan, ecru, light brown. You get the idea! Then I began to wonder if the same was true of Danish clothing. I began to test out my theory when Deborah was off somewhere else in the store so I wouldn’t embarrass her. Sometimes I would ask a colorfully dressed couple — “you’re not from Denmark, are you?” Bingo, they were from Lithuania. Another couple was from Romania. A lively group near us in a cafe in some pronounced blues and greens — Italian. I’m finding it pretty easy to spot the foreigners in the street. 

I flashed back to an image of my father and his wardrobe of tans, comfortable khaki-style pants, and Clarks Dessert Shoes. Sand-colored. The walls in our house were all white. I remember asking my dad about this and he told me about the Bauhaus movement. He also said he thought that what was important was not the clothing or the furnishings but the people in the house.

This definitely didn’t rub off on me. Deborah may have had a similar reaction to her upbringing because our house is a riot of color. Red counter tops, rich blue and yellow walls, and a colorful kitchen floor in a Mondrian-type pattern we designed. In clothes, we chose blues, reds, even pink shirt. What do you think I wore to go see “Barbie?!”

Ironically, Eli and Avi almost always sport earth tones in their clothing choices. Maybe it skips a generation?!

Late afternoon when we were nursing a beer and a hot tea in a crowded rooftop cafe, there was a loud sound like an explosion. Many people migrated over to the balcony to see what was going on. A Dane remarked that it was probably a piece of construction equipment. Two dark-skinned Brits nearby shook their heads, assuming it was a bomb. Which was my reaction, too. However looking down we saw a juggler/performer gathering a crowd for a performance and concluded he had done something loud to get everyone’s attention!

September 17 — Copenhagen (last day)

I’m off to a lazy start. Deborah and I are exploring separately today and I headed out for breakfast at the Copenhagen Museum cafe. It’s apparently a fairly typical first meal of croissant, roll, soft boiled egg, cheese, hard roll, jam and tea. My nutritionist said that grains are different in Europe and my gluten sensitivity might not be triggered. I’ve been tasting very small quantities of bread, which is incredibly delicious here, and this morning had half of the roll and croissant. So far, so good.

In the cafe was a collection of Danish engineers in town for a meeting and a tour of the museum. I was chatting with a very colorfully dressed woman and her chemical engineer husband. She said she loves bright colors in contrast to her friends and neighbors. So I had to take a picture of her for the record.

One of her daughters is training for a unique program of psychological screening for Danes interested in working for the police. She said that in Denmark, as well as in the States, they have some police officers who are not temperamentally suited to working with a diverse population. And her daughter’s job will be to help screen out those types.

I forgot to mention that on our second day here, we visited the Christiania free commune. And it triggered memories of living at Antioch and Berkeley in the 70s. The commune controls all the property on this abandoned military property in the center of town where they squatted on many years ago and were allowed to keep after some struggles. Unlike in Amsterdam, recreational drugs are not allowed here but thrive on Pusher Street in Christiania. The drug trade is controlled by gangs, including the Hell’s Angels, and the community has been trying to close them down. There was even a shooting in the community linked to this, a very rare event in Denmark.

I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves. I’m sure that anyone reading this who has been through the hippie era in the US will readily identify with the scene.

There is so much to see just in Copenhagen! I did something very untouristy today, I headed for the Norrebro District. It was the scene of violent riots from the 1980s through 2007. In one battle, where squatters used pipe mobs and Molotov cocktails, 92 policemen and 13 demonstrators were injured. Today it is still a somewhat scruffy and very diverse community. But I was heading for a playground I had read about. Unfortunately Superkilen Park was interesting but not amazing. At the park I chatted with a mother whose kid was zoning out on the swing. I told her about the Young Scholars project and about indoor play spaces and she pointed to the library across from the playground. She said they have an indoor playground in the library but that it was probably closed on Sunday.

I hustled over and was elated to find it was open. Right inside the library was a mountain of cubicles with slots for books and nooks for kids to read in. There was a dress up corner linked to some of the kids books with items made by a local tailor. And giant squishy letters to climb on and build with as well. I spoke to several parents who loved the library and the space, often coming over every day.

The library is part of a converted train station and also contains large and small climbing walls, badminton, squash, basketball and soccer spaces. And a cafe just outside of the library space. The parents said that on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday evening at 5 PM, the cafe serves inexpensive meals and it is a gathering point for the families and is great at building community.

One of the parents I spoke with the most has traveled frequently to NYC, Chicago, LA and Miami. The locations give a clue to the type of music his group plays — klezmer style! He’s not Jewish but one member of the band is. He even called himself a goy. Apparently musicians are better able to support themselves in Denmark than in the US and it is a full-time gig for him.

Walking out of the library, I followed a loud beat to a street festival that coincided with the Copenhagen half-marathon. Block after block of kids from all backgrounds were drawing with chalk on the street. Another group of yoga enthusiasts was demonstrating and getting passerby to balance their children on their legs while lying on their backs. 

I kept walking along this several mile greenway which opened up into large playing fields. I chatted with a mom breastfeeding her baby while watching another of her kids playing girls soccer. They start them off playing three on three with no goalie so that all kids are engaged. The next year they play four-on-four with a goalie. And if one team goes up by three points, the losing team gets to add another player. 

Walking a little further, I saw two couples tossing sticks in the direction of each other. As I got closer, I saw they had set up wooden pins and were trying to knock them over. I had never seen the game before but thought it might be fun to play with the Young Scholars during the Saturday Sessions.

Finally, I saw four guys kicking a soccer ball at each other across a low net. It was a cross between soccer and volleyball. Very strange. You have to be a very good soccer player to manage it.

Despite my very large and late breakfast I started to get pretty hungry. I searched on Google for restaurants near me and came up with a highly-rated Iranian food truck, clustered in an area with other food trucks and picnic tables. It was delicious, as promised by Mr. Google.

It was a good half-hour return trip and I made it in time to take a short nap before meeting Deborah for the Torvehallerne Market before they closed. We each grazed and I picked up a salmon salad (with roe and salmon on fresh rye bread), some crabmeat, and a nibble of pate at the stalls. Then some watermelon and lime juice to wash it down. And for dessert I bought three mojis — coconut lime, chocolate, and matcha.

Deborah was engrossed in her murder mystery set in Copenhagen so I trooped off to watch some low-caliber basketball. I walked to the edge of the large playground (which had a parking garage underneath) and the ground fell away to reveal a lake with lots of trees and plantings. Further in and through the woods was a delightful cafe. 

On our way back, we stopped at Gammel Strand station to look for the underwater sculpture by one of the bridges. It’s up there as one of the most disappointing tourist spots. We didn’t even waste any “film” taking a picture.

And now it’s time to pack and get ready to head for Berlin.