It's now a little before noon on Day 4 of our trip. We've been by the temple and the mission home and on our way back to the church building we found the current mission office.
This is a group of us in front of the mission office with Adam doing his best impression of the road runner. I was about to take a picture of the group when Adam ran up to flip somebody's tie or give someone a wet willie and I caught him just as he turned away laughing.
This building was across the street from the temple. We tried to find it earlier in the day, but couldn't locate it after wandering a few blocks. Then on the way back from the mission home, we found it. Success! Of course, we couldn't go in as no one was there, but it was nice to see that in about a three-block radius was the temple, the church building and the mission office. All very convenient.
We even got a photo of Mom and Dad in front of the office. Though I have a question. What is Tami doing in the reflection of the glass? Does she see a bird or a plane or is it Superman? More like Julie hearing some more of that Superwoman theme music.
Then it was off to church.
We got in to the chapel and settled ourselves into two rows. The organ music floated around us and people were very friendly, smiling and shaking our hands and asking where we were from. We met a very nice gentleman from our home state who has lived in Denmark for 35 years. He served a mission there, then came back and married a member and settled down and raised a family. He was very gracious and outfitted each of us with headsets for the meeting and then very kindly translated the entire service.
Needless to say, we were feeling the love from the Saints in Denmark. They could not have been more accommodating or welcoming.
As we settled into the service though, the effects of our busy morning, the hot weather, and our ongoing jet lag had a soporific effect on us all. In other words, we were head bobbing through most of the meeting.
Sleep. Bob. Sleep. Bob. Sleep. Bob.
Yes, that was an effective worship time for us.
Fortunately, we sang congregational hymns and those hymns kept us going, if not for their familiarity, at least for their giggle-inducing moments. Have you ever tried to sing a song that you know, but in a language that you've never spoken? You say "eee" when you are supposed to say "ah" and you say "ooo" when you are supposed to say "uh." And let's not forget that anytime you try to speak a new language, most people flavor it with their own second language. In other words, we had people trying this whole trip to pronounce Danish words with a Spanish trill.
We were all over the map. Some of us sang with a Spanish accent, some sang with French accent, and some just sang accenting every word with an increased VOLUME.
Like Adam.
I think he drank too much of something back at the 7-11. When the hymn singing began, Adam burst forth in song the likes of which would have rivaled Andrea Bocelli in a packed opera house.
And that woke up everyone up. Yes, even the people on the stand at the front. We all really should have said, "Thank you, Adam" for he gave us the shot of adrenaline we needed.
After the meeting, we were again accosted by friendly handshakes and smiling faces. Dad even ran into this very sweet lady.
I think in the parlance of my mission such a gesture would have meant I-have-a-big-fat-crush-on-you, but whether out of forgetfulness or politeness no one confessed to that.
Immediately, I felt like everything would be okay. We would either find our luggage quickly or we would deal with it easily. We had felt before this momet with our lost luggage that we were just a couple of people in a vast network of airports and airlines and our luggage could be anywhere. Suddenly, meeting a member of our faith made our problem seem not quite so insurmountable. Denmark is a country of 5.4 million people and our faith only has 4,000 members there. What are the chances of running into a member in our very first encounter in this country? (And that is for all of you statisticians out there because I don't know.) Truly, it felt like a small world in that instant.
And yes, this is Spencer and I going on Day 4 wearing the same clothes. (No, we aren't stinky, people. Through loaner clothes and other assistance we were washing out our clothes every night in the hotel sinks.)
Have you counted up the miracles we've had on this trip so far? Miracles and blessings. That is the best way to get through any vacation.
Well, we met yet another wonderful member at church named Steve. Here he is in the photo below in the tiny, tiny Copenhagen apartment that he shares with his wife, Marian.
I'm sorry, but I have no idea what I would feed sixteen people if I had about 30 minutes to come up with a meal for them from my cupboards.
And Marian said when Steve told her that he had invited us to dinner that she just started racking her brain.
We walked to their apartment with Steve telling us stories the whole way. When we got there he excitedly invited some of us to ride up with him in the elevator. Megan and I were elected to participate and then we stepped into an elevator that was really, truthfully, made for only a very skinny cat and a petite child to fit in. It was that small. Steve was so excited about it that he didn't notice we couldn't breathe once our faces were smashed up against the wall. When the doors shut, I had a gripping realization that my death was likely imminent. Panic ensued. Let's just say after that Megan and I elected to walk up the stairs rather than take the elevator. (Thanks to our little elevator escapade with Steve, I would ride any other elevator on our trip with great reluctance. But I would think of Steve every time!)
At least nobody moved unless so ordered. As we assembled at the dinner table our collective desire to not inconvenience anyone around us seemed to heighten our politeness to an extreme degree. We were stuffing people into chairs around the dinner table while the balance of the group made do with the couch and the floor. But one chair went unoccupied. The boys weren't about to take it from one of the girls and the girls thought they would be more comfortable on the floor than one of the bigger boys. Julie was the closest girl to the unoccupied chair and she was protesting and desisting from claiming it with great good humor. That is until the mother ship, Jamie, decided the matter by barking the order, "Julie, get up in that chair."
To which Julie's body responded with a frightening speed, while her face registered total shock. Let's just say that Mama Jamie doesn't usually employ such a forceful, vocal degree of command and I think Julie's first exposure to it was complete and total bewilderment.
Before all that shuffling and maneuvering at the table though, we tried to help whatever way we could without stomping on each other or our gracious hosts in the process.
Next stop: the airport.
We were driving to Møn that night and wouldn't be near the airport again for 10 days, so we made one last stab at locating our luggage in person. It was a heroic effort, but it was a failure.
This also was our first real day of driving in Denmark and everyone was getting used to the manual transmission in our vans. The drivers especially. Dad was driving our van and I think on stall number eight Jenny started to tally his stalls vocally. When he hit stall number 12, he turned over the controls to Russell. Who himself promptly stalled.
Rus's stall just happened to take place as we were leaving the airport and passing through the parking gate. He had just pushed the button to open the gate and in his hurry to restart the van and get through the gate before it closed, he was fumbling with the controls and turned on the windshield wipers. And not just the windshield wipers in the front, but the windshield wipers in the back too.
Which sent the group in our second van behind us into gales of laughter.
But we did make it through the gate. And couldn't stop laughing for fifteen minutes.
This is a group of us in front of the mission office with Adam doing his best impression of the road runner. I was about to take a picture of the group when Adam ran up to flip somebody's tie or give someone a wet willie and I caught him just as he turned away laughing.
This building was across the street from the temple. We tried to find it earlier in the day, but couldn't locate it after wandering a few blocks. Then on the way back from the mission home, we found it. Success! Of course, we couldn't go in as no one was there, but it was nice to see that in about a three-block radius was the temple, the church building and the mission office. All very convenient.
We even got a photo of Mom and Dad in front of the office. Though I have a question. What is Tami doing in the reflection of the glass? Does she see a bird or a plane or is it Superman? More like Julie hearing some more of that Superwoman theme music.
Then it was off to church.
We got in to the chapel and settled ourselves into two rows. The organ music floated around us and people were very friendly, smiling and shaking our hands and asking where we were from. We met a very nice gentleman from our home state who has lived in Denmark for 35 years. He served a mission there, then came back and married a member and settled down and raised a family. He was very gracious and outfitted each of us with headsets for the meeting and then very kindly translated the entire service.
Needless to say, we were feeling the love from the Saints in Denmark. They could not have been more accommodating or welcoming.
As we settled into the service though, the effects of our busy morning, the hot weather, and our ongoing jet lag had a soporific effect on us all. In other words, we were head bobbing through most of the meeting.
Sleep. Bob. Sleep. Bob. Sleep. Bob.
Yes, that was an effective worship time for us.
Fortunately, we sang congregational hymns and those hymns kept us going, if not for their familiarity, at least for their giggle-inducing moments. Have you ever tried to sing a song that you know, but in a language that you've never spoken? You say "eee" when you are supposed to say "ah" and you say "ooo" when you are supposed to say "uh." And let's not forget that anytime you try to speak a new language, most people flavor it with their own second language. In other words, we had people trying this whole trip to pronounce Danish words with a Spanish trill.
We were all over the map. Some of us sang with a Spanish accent, some sang with French accent, and some just sang accenting every word with an increased VOLUME.
Like Adam.
I think he drank too much of something back at the 7-11. When the hymn singing began, Adam burst forth in song the likes of which would have rivaled Andrea Bocelli in a packed opera house.
And that woke up everyone up. Yes, even the people on the stand at the front. We all really should have said, "Thank you, Adam" for he gave us the shot of adrenaline we needed.
After the meeting, we were again accosted by friendly handshakes and smiling faces. Dad even ran into this very sweet lady.
I think in the parlance of my mission such a gesture would have meant I-have-a-big-fat-crush-on-you, but whether out of forgetfulness or politeness no one confessed to that.
Immediately, I felt like everything would be okay. We would either find our luggage quickly or we would deal with it easily. We had felt before this momet with our lost luggage that we were just a couple of people in a vast network of airports and airlines and our luggage could be anywhere. Suddenly, meeting a member of our faith made our problem seem not quite so insurmountable. Denmark is a country of 5.4 million people and our faith only has 4,000 members there. What are the chances of running into a member in our very first encounter in this country? (And that is for all of you statisticians out there because I don't know.) Truly, it felt like a small world in that instant.
And yes, this is Spencer and I going on Day 4 wearing the same clothes. (No, we aren't stinky, people. Through loaner clothes and other assistance we were washing out our clothes every night in the hotel sinks.)
Have you counted up the miracles we've had on this trip so far? Miracles and blessings. That is the best way to get through any vacation.
Well, we met yet another wonderful member at church named Steve. Here he is in the photo below in the tiny, tiny Copenhagen apartment that he shares with his wife, Marian.
I'm sorry, but I have no idea what I would feed sixteen people if I had about 30 minutes to come up with a meal for them from my cupboards.
And Marian said when Steve told her that he had invited us to dinner that she just started racking her brain.
We walked to their apartment with Steve telling us stories the whole way. When we got there he excitedly invited some of us to ride up with him in the elevator. Megan and I were elected to participate and then we stepped into an elevator that was really, truthfully, made for only a very skinny cat and a petite child to fit in. It was that small. Steve was so excited about it that he didn't notice we couldn't breathe once our faces were smashed up against the wall. When the doors shut, I had a gripping realization that my death was likely imminent. Panic ensued. Let's just say after that Megan and I elected to walk up the stairs rather than take the elevator. (Thanks to our little elevator escapade with Steve, I would ride any other elevator on our trip with great reluctance. But I would think of Steve every time!)
At least nobody moved unless so ordered. As we assembled at the dinner table our collective desire to not inconvenience anyone around us seemed to heighten our politeness to an extreme degree. We were stuffing people into chairs around the dinner table while the balance of the group made do with the couch and the floor. But one chair went unoccupied. The boys weren't about to take it from one of the girls and the girls thought they would be more comfortable on the floor than one of the bigger boys. Julie was the closest girl to the unoccupied chair and she was protesting and desisting from claiming it with great good humor. That is until the mother ship, Jamie, decided the matter by barking the order, "Julie, get up in that chair."
To which Julie's body responded with a frightening speed, while her face registered total shock. Let's just say that Mama Jamie doesn't usually employ such a forceful, vocal degree of command and I think Julie's first exposure to it was complete and total bewilderment.
Before all that shuffling and maneuvering at the table though, we tried to help whatever way we could without stomping on each other or our gracious hosts in the process.
one piece of buttered bread, often rugbrød—a hard, whole-grain rye bread—topped with any of a variety of meats, including various cold cuts, bacon, herring, fish fillets, eggs and leverpostej (liver paté), and then usually some vegetable (for example, thinly sliced cucumber, tomato wedges or pickled beets)and then usually a condiment, such as mayonnaise, or toasted onion bits. A traditional replacement for butter on a piece of bread with herring is pig fat. There are many traditional variations associated with the smørrebrød. There are special stores which specialize in these sandwiches. (Wikipedia)Marian served them with leverpostej (pronounced liver-post-eye) which is a pork liver spread. Ewwww! But I think we all tried it. Or claimed to have tried it. And bless their hearts, Steve and Marian gave us the experience of eating traditional food in a Danish home which is really more than we ever expected. That in and of itself was all the treat we needed.
Next stop: the airport.
We were driving to Møn that night and wouldn't be near the airport again for 10 days, so we made one last stab at locating our luggage in person. It was a heroic effort, but it was a failure.
This also was our first real day of driving in Denmark and everyone was getting used to the manual transmission in our vans. The drivers especially. Dad was driving our van and I think on stall number eight Jenny started to tally his stalls vocally. When he hit stall number 12, he turned over the controls to Russell. Who himself promptly stalled.
Rus's stall just happened to take place as we were leaving the airport and passing through the parking gate. He had just pushed the button to open the gate and in his hurry to restart the van and get through the gate before it closed, he was fumbling with the controls and turned on the windshield wipers. And not just the windshield wipers in the front, but the windshield wipers in the back too.
Which sent the group in our second van behind us into gales of laughter.
But we did make it through the gate. And couldn't stop laughing for fifteen minutes.
Then we were off to see the Kristina statue.
And it was beautiful. Green rolling countryside everywhere.
And a popular menu item was the Danish hot dog.
The Danes are known for serving a great hot dog. They have long, red hot dogs stuffed in warm bread and served with ketchup, mustard and remoulade sauce (which is yellow sauce that seems like a mix between mayonnaise, mustard and tartar sauce) and garnished with things like cucumbers, tomatoes and toasted onions. And make no mistake, these are not your typical, bland, American hot dogs. In fact, I was actually shocked when I came home from Denmark to find that I was craving their hot dogs. Not something I have ever craved in America.
The Danes are known for serving a great hot dog. They have long, red hot dogs stuffed in warm bread and served with ketchup, mustard and remoulade sauce (which is yellow sauce that seems like a mix between mayonnaise, mustard and tartar sauce) and garnished with things like cucumbers, tomatoes and toasted onions. And make no mistake, these are not your typical, bland, American hot dogs. In fact, I was actually shocked when I came home from Denmark to find that I was craving their hot dogs. Not something I have ever craved in America.
But after an hour we were all served and smiling. Then it was off to the hotel. We checked in, got ready for bed, and hooked up to the Internet to begin what would become a nightly round of phone calls and emails trying to track down the luggage.
Day 5 will include a rainy day hike, a scandal regarding our great forefather, and a forced shopping expedition. Hold on to your hats, folks.
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4 comments:
Oh Eden...I am loving this.
I love your commentary. I need you to travel with me so you can document my experiences. You are fabulous! And I really didn't want to work this morning anyways! Thanks for the distraction.
I think you and Megan in the elevator should have made the poll. Also Mama Jamie "growling" at Julie! Oh Eden, you are so good at this! I'm with Christine...please come on my next trip and document it for me. Hey, maybe you could market that ability and get to see the world!
I started laughing out loud reading about Adam singing in church. The funny thing is I totally don't remember him singing loudly. Maybe it's just his regular "church voice" and I'm used to it. :) I'm so glad you're writing this - I love to read it!
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