Pamela Louderback, Day 9

Well, it's Halloween and there are little children all over town dressed on costumes.  I am not certain whether they are attending church-affiliated festivities as they seem to be mostly walking in that general direction.  As I sit in the student lounge area of the library - taking a break from the research - I notice more students this evening than usual.  Strange since I assumed they would be continuing the holiday revelling.  There's a large booming noise outside the window but I cannot see out so it may be more firecrackers.  It sounds more like huge drums being beaten. 

Today, after attending church, I walked around the neighborhood taking videos and snapshots of houses.  There is a wide range of plant vegetation - I even saw a palm tree in the front yard of someone's flat!  It looked no worse for wear considering it get's quite cold - low 30's at times.  I supposed it not that peculiar of a thing - just wholly unexpected.  After my stroll I made my way back to the apartment to pack up my "gear" for the five minute jaunt to the library. 

Normally, I'm just toting the netbook, paper, and a book or two.  Today, I also brought along the regular-sized laptop - with an accompanying mouse, webcam, etc...which I packed in it's zebra print covers.  I didn't make mention of this during yesterday's blog posting, but it had gotten a bit chilly and I had decided to change from my normal tweed jacket into my Tracken coat - a German number that looks more like Dracula's cape than the normal attire of most Belfaster's - usually mid-waist in length.  I got quite a few stares, and at first, chocked it up to the thought that maybe passersby surmised it was a Halloween costume.  One fellow stopped dead in his tracks - yelled out some unintelligible words, followed by "oy" and jumped back a step or two.  Interestingly enough, the young lady walking with him was unaffected while this hulking guy was quite affected.  I suppose the greeting I gave them may have surprised him enough to jump back as he did. 

Anyway, I only bring this up because of the responses from almost everyone who saw me toting this zebra print laptop cover.  You would have thought it an actual zebra on a leash for the way everyone responded.  But, interestingly, after their initial responses of starting, staring, and mumbling something unintelligible, they would immediately take hold of their composure and move on as if all were fine.  Some would elicit giggles, others would move a wide birth in their steps - but all who set their eyes on my zebra print laptop cover were forever affected.  The most peculiarly interesting occurrence.  Now, I'm trying to think of other things I may have brought that are the least bit "out of the ordinary" to continue this little anthropological case study.

I read the post by Dr. Hannah regarding Skype and was, I must confess, rather disappointed.  Not only does he have access to t.v.'s he also can Skype on a regular basis.  While, I, on the other hand, am so media-starved in my apartment, I still have yet to be able to Skype.  Not that I haven't given it my all!  As I've noted earlier, I have the technology available to me, I just don't have wifi available in a secluded enough place to actually have a conversation at a time when my family is awake and available.  Group study rooms are more difficult to get than you would imagine.  It's a first come first serve set up and the few available rooms go fast.  Once secured, the rooms are used for quite some time by the students - studious little stinkers.  And since I don't have wifi in my apartment, it's a bit dangerous walking about campus in the dark.  Of course, maybe I should just drag around my zebra print laptop cover wearing my Tracken coat!  That just might be the ticket. 

Les Hannah, day 19, part final

Once I got passed that moment the remainder of the time went well. We were together for about an hour; the questions were good and I think the responses were appropriate. I did some gentle correcting along the way. My responses were efficient; after all, we were pressed for time, yet they were informative. Once we finished I thanked them for coming and their inquisitive minds and wished them fare well. I made it a point to shake each one’s hand, especially Alex.  I shall pray for him by the water.

I returned to the grammar and citation questions only briefly. By this time the students were beginning to wrap up the day. A few had already left, though some still lingered. Mainly the questions at this point were from some of the other teachers inquiring about my plans for Potato Week. I shared my idea for a Scandinavian train trip with them and they seemed to agree that I would enjoy that.

Following those conversations was my regular Skype call to my family. Always good to talk to them. Lexi is silly even over the Internet. That child makes me very happy. We spent about twenty minutes talking; this is our every-other-day routine, just before Tori goes to work and Lexi goes to school. As I am finishing my day they are just beginning theirs, so the timing usually works out fine. I get about twenty to thirty minutes each time and that keeps me going until the next one. I miss them and will be glad to get home.

And speaking of getting home, well – to the house I am living in for now, wow, what a ride that was. That weather I mentioned from this morning, it had moved in. The wind was a strong head wind all the way to the house. That is shifted around from its usual direction. The head wind is typically in the morning with a tail wind in the afternoon. But not today. And it was strong the entire way back to the house; I certainly got my workout this afternoon. In fact, the wind gusted so strong a few times that it caused me to lose my balance on the bike. There was one point where I thought I could coast for a spell and rest my legs; wrong – as soon as I stopped pedaling I stopped. Just stopped. I might have started rolling backwards had I not put my feet down.  Additionally, I got rained on. Yep. Wind and rain. Now it was not a pouring rain, really just a sprinkle, but the wind was driving the drop so hard that they stung when they hit my face. Kind of felt like I might have been hunting with Dick Cheney a couple of times. I immediately changed from my cold, damp clothes into some warm, dry sweats and settled in for the evening. And wouldn’t you know it – it stopped raining within just a few minutes of my arrival.

Les Hannah, day 19, part 1

All 33 are safely on the surface. Today I am Chilean – well, in spirit at least. I am thankful they all made it. Some may question why I care: I care because they are human beings, and that is all the answer I need give.

I am to be on television today; before I left the school yesterday I was informed that a local television station saw the re-article the newspaper the day before and wanted to send a camera crew to get some film and to do an interview – an original interview. So I dressed up a bit more today. Now those who know me and work with me will recognize that I wear dress slacks and shirt with a tie almost every day to work at NSU. Occasionally I will go a bit more casual. I dressed as I normally do for school during the first week here; after all, I was teaching. However, during this week of informal consultations I was more informal as well. I wore jeans and a Polo style shirt all week. But not today – today I had to represent.

The ride in this morning was cold. Weather is coming; I could see the front in the distance. But of course I had my cap and gloves now, plus I was wearing my large, thick rain coat today, so I was well insulated.

This is the final day of preparation on the 80s projects. Students were busy getting their last bits of information gathered. Several of the groups were compiling their works cited pages for the essay portion. I was asked several questions today about English grammar and how to cite certain sources. Turns out some of the classes must do their report in English rather than Danish – the English classes, duh.  So a good portion of my consulting today was almost like working in the Writing Center.

I ate in the cafeteria today; took an early lunch so I would have time to make ready for the camera crew. They were scheduled for noon. And they arrived right on time. This television station is a bit unique; it is similar to PBS in the United States, but this station is staffed, quite considerably, by handicapped people: people with physical and mental disabilities. I was interviewed by Alex, a young man who is challenged both physically and mentally. He is wheelchair bound, and he has some sort of mental dysfunction, though I am not sure what it is. I did not pry.

There was a difficult point in this interview – the beginning. The crew of four young men (two, the producer and the camera-man, were without disabilities) all knew they were coming to interview an American Indian. They seemed excited; in fact, the producer is an alumnus of Esbjerg Handelsskole, having graduated just last year, and he told me that in his final year at the school the teachers had discussed American Indian cultures, but had taken most of their information from the Internet. I told him be careful what you get from the Internet.

Alex, the young man who conducted the interview, began it badly. He raised his hand, open palm facing me, and said “How.” In that moment I felt the strangest combination of emotions: anger, sorrow, pity, frustration, sympathy/empathy, and I don’t know what all else. Now I must make it clear right now that I was not angry at Alex; first of all he knew no better, and he cannot help the condition that he is in. My emotions were not directed AT him, but I did feel anger in that moment at that same old BS stereotype. I also felt sorrow for Alex, first for his condition. He did not ask for that. My father was wheelchair bound in the final few years of his life. In fact, the only memories I have of him were in that damned thing (he died when I was young, only six). So I have a special place in my heart for handicapped people. But I also felt sorrow for Alex that what he did know about American Indians was so wrong, which is a different kind of sorrow all together. I was frustrated that stereotypes have created a world that sees American Indians as a Hollywood artifact, but that is why I am here – to help correct those mistakes. All of this flooded my soul in the few seconds before the interview actually began. But I continued. For Alex.

I truly hope none of that sounds bad. But saying "How" to an Indian is not good. I will leave it at that. And I wish Alex well. I truly hold no ill will; he knew no better, but I hope he is interested now and will learn.

Les Hannah, day 18, part final

As the day ended for me at school I made the quick bike ride into the city centre. Mainly I was looking for a mailing tube so I can send a few things, some artifacts I shipped over, back home when the time comes. Well, that and I just wanted to look around some more. I spent about an hour browsing around the different shops.

While in the general area I also went to the train depot to check schedules and routes for a potential trip next week. Week 42 of the year is a school break that dates back several decades to a harvest time of year. Potato Week. According to the teachers who told me of this it was when the annual potato harvest was done – by hand. And of course every hand available was needed to bring in the spuds, so of course children were let out of school for a week to help their families harvest. Well of course there are now big machines that do in a few hours what hundreds of school kids barely accomplished in a week. But they still keep the break. What a country. I am out of school all next week for Potato Week. 

I was originally planning to go back into Germany and southern Europe, but the US State Department issued the travel alert for parts of Europe, naming specifically Hamburg, Germany – one of the places where I stopped on the way here, and one of the places I was thinking of going on break. So I think now I will head north instead. There is a five day rail pass for the Scandinavian countries. I am thinking of getting one of those and just riding trains for five days through Denmark, Norway, Sweden, and Finland. So I picked up some literature on that from the train station.

Once back at the house I check on my Chilean miners to discover that number 18 had been brought to the surface; by the time I headed to bed number 21 was on his way up.

Les Hannah, day 18, part 1

I checked the news on the Chilean miners this morning as I was leaving for school; three had been rescued so far. Watching and waiting for the others.

After I arrived at school today I discovered, actually was informed, that I had been in yesterday’s Esbjerg newspaper. I got a copy and saved it, for what good it will do me; I suppose someday I may learn to read Danish. Until that day however, I will take as gospel the translation of those who read the article to me. Actually, I know exactly what it says. Once the article was read to me I knew immediately what the source was. I state that thus because no one from any Danish newspaper interviewed me for this article. How the article came about is interesting.

The deputy director at the school here, sent the newspaper a brief blurb about my presence at the school. She suggested they contact me or come by the school for an interview and dialogue about my time here in Denmark. No one did. How the paper “got” their interview was to take what little information she sent them and then they Googled me, found an old interview I did while still at Kansas State University (it was published in The Collegian, the KSU school newspaper) and they reprinted that – translated into Danish though, of course.  They also took some things from podcasts I did on the K-State network.  Why reinvent the wheel I guess, huh. A warning to my students however; don’t try this with any of your assignments.

Well, the 80s were still alive and kicking in the halls of Esbjerg Handelsskole today. I had lots of students visit with me today. Several groups stopped at my table, a few individual students; all were curious about me mostly, wanting to know what I thought of Denmark so far. And so far I am loving it here. I really do enjoy the time at the school. I am treated well there. One young lady sat with me for several minutes and told me that all of the classes want me to come back; she actually said, “You are like a rock star here. Everyone wants you in their classes.” Rock star. Wow.

Following that boost to my ego several more students stopped by just to chat. Many would come when they were taking a break from the research and just sit and talk, wanting to know more about Indians, wanting to know more about the States, some just wanting to talk. I enjoy this type of dialogue; often I like to just sit and talk with students at NSU, especially the grad students. Teaching and learning can happen over chips and salsa or pizza, a cup of coffee, or just across the table as well as in the classroom.

I wrapped this school day up with a walking discussion of the influence of Microsoft products in the education arena in the US. Certainly was not a technical discussion, but a general observation of the popularity of MS products in American higher education.

Pamela Louderback, Day 7 -Vodcast

Testing out my vodcasting capabilities --  Sorry this is out of order.  I just couldn't get it to load properly yesterday and had another go (successfully) of it.

Pamela Louderback, Day 8

Met up with my Fulbright mentor Eileen Sug.  We had coffee at Connors and I had the pleasure of meeting a few of her mutual friends and colleagues.  Jim (great contact for Irish medium [immersion] schools and his partner Collette who is a professor in the School of Education, Mary [mathematics professor situated at Oxford] who was in town for a visit, and Liz [one of Mary's friends] who just might be a great contact for my dog fix.  She volunteers at a local shelter.  We drank tea, ate scones, and exchanged contact information.  Hopefully, I'll be able to start meeting more people in the School of Education next week. 

Eileen also suggested I introduce myself to a professor in the Institute of Governance (Evelyn) as her research interests are similar to mine.  I've plans to visit an Irish medium school in Galway and hope that Evelyn will be of help to me in securing the right names/contacts.  It's looking like next week will be a busy one of networking! 

Eileen gave me a short ride about town, showing me the Tesco superstore - it puts any of our WalMart supercenters to shame with two stories, escalators, etc... - huge to say the least.  I decided that I'm going to get a local pay as you go phone but there was so much to choose from, I'' have to think it over.   I got a tip that the best time to go to the local market on the Square is Friday at 7 a.m. if you want the best fresh fish.  Guess the yuppies come on Saturday, so I'll have to check it out early next Friday.

I also had the pleasure of meeting Eileen's sixteen year old daughter, Catherine - a lovely young lady - who is msucially inclined.  Eileen has offered to take me to a charity concert event on Friday - her daughter will be playing.  The orchestra is trying to get to the U.S. and is putting on the event to raise money.  Seems the group has been to the states on several occassions and hopes to make it to Philadelphia this time around.

I also had a look around a local Catholic church and met Jim (J.J.) M8urphy - an elderly parisher who seemed to know everything and everyone!  Just my good luck he was there when I popped.  He gave me a bit of a history of the church and invited me for11:45 mass tomorrow.  So, hopefully, I won't oversleep! 

It's getting late, so I'm off to the apartment for, I'm certain, another sleepless night of pub crawling, firecracker setting off revelers! Ah, Belfast at Halloween - you gotta love it here!

Pamela Louderback, Day 6

I spent a great deal of time in the library doing research.  Much of what I will need is either in Special
Collections or the School of Education - a building that I haven't, as yet, located.  It's set up in a similar fashion as my undergraduate school where specialized collections reside in the specific schools.  A matter of convenience, I suppose. 

I had an interesting conversation with one of the law professors regarding abortion.  He was preparing for a lecture and while looking up some statistics - trust but verify - that he had been told, we engaged in conversation.  Abortion, unlike in America, is still illegal here.  Acording to statutes only two reasons exist allowing such a procedure - the mother's health, or a deformity of the infant.  Seems despite this, almost 200,000 abortions were provided last year.  On to more lively topic.

Here, firecrackers are a large part of halloween festivities so to add to the usual noise of pub crawlers making their way home, I heard the booming of firecrackers into the wee hours of the night, last night.  A greater number of sirens were going off as well.  I only hope there wasn.t a direct correlation between the two!  My apartment is surrounded by several pubs so it doesn' much make for a restful evening.  Most of the students sing rather loudly, and usually, unintelligible songs.  However, last night, I was able to distinctly make out the words (and a not so bad tune) of Bon Jovi's "Living on a prayer" from one group.  It's almost as fun as a Karaoke bar - and practically in my living room! 

I had an interesting conversation with one of the law professors regarding abortion.  He was preparing for a lecture and while looking up some statistics - trust but verify - that he had been told, we engaged in conversation.  Abortion, unlike in America, is still illegal here.  Acording to statutes only two reasons exist allowing such a procedure - the mother's health, or a deformity of the infant.  Seems despite this, almost 200,000 abortions were provided last year. 

Les Hannah, day 17, part final

What amazing young people these students are. Their minds are good. Their spirits energetic. This informal time has reinforced a stereotype of Danes I have heard. Now if this is a stereotype it is one I would not mind having. I have heard, repeatedly, that Danes are the happiest people in the world. Allegedly there was some survey a few years ago, and it is repeated every so often. Danes come out on top. What a thing to be typecast with. And from what I am seeing within the halls of this school there is a great deal of truth to this. This people are happy and they are fun to be with. I am really enjoying this informal time with these students. They talk to me – not about me. We engage in conversations; we share jokes. I was shown some Danish comedians on YouTube; though I did not understand the language I got the spirit of the jokes and antics. Some of the students translated for me, and then the funny really came through.

Since I have been here about a dozen of these students have friended me on Facebook. They text me on FB and ask how I am doing. Their teachers affirm that these students are good kids, good human beings. I am in a good place here, a happy place. I sense lots of positive energy and thoughts here.

All too quickly this afternoon passed as well and it was time to head for the house. On the way back I took a detour to one of the supermarkets here. Not really much of a supermarket when compared to those in the US. This supermarket would fit in the deli area of the Super Wal-Mart in Tahlequah, but this one is one of the largest in the city. I gathered what I needed, only a few things (I am trying to buy smaller portions because I have already had to throw some bread away – couldn’t eat it before it molded); can’t afford to throw away food here. Additionally, I had to buy small/little because of my carrying capacity on the bicycle. I can only carry what I can stuff into my backpack or strap down on the small rack behind the seat. No Sam’s club shopping for me here. They do have something like Sam’s Clubs here. It appears to be more than one different company. I have also noticed a home improvement type store strikingly similar to Home Depot, same orange colors and everything; it’s called OBI. I am not sure if that is the name or the initials, but they have cool commercials and use Queen music as the soundtrack.

So I made my way home with my backpack of groceries, along with a computer wedged in there somewhere. I settled in to watch more news about the Chilean miners. The rescue operation was only a short while from beginning. I admire those men; I had respect for people who face adversity and persevere. I have no respect for quitters – especially habitual quitters.

Les Hannah, day 17, part 1

I returned to the 80s this morning, but only for a little over an hour before I tried once again to go register with the Police and get my C stamp. The Police station is only a few blocks from the city centre, which is only about two kilometers from the school. It was a relatively quick bike ride there. But once I got there I found out that the particular office I needed to register with was closed today so the people could go to training. “Well great,” I said, and I said it out loud. I guess that caught someone’s attention and my frustration was sensed. One officer became much more helpful in that moment; he asked what was wrong, and explained to him the situation. He said to wait a moment, and he went to find someone who could help me. He soon returned with another officer who took my letter from the Immigrations Office and my passport. This officer reviewed the materials, asked me several questions, questions like “when did you arrive in Denmark; how did you get here; what are you doing here; how long do you plan to stay?” I answered them all and ultimately got my precious C stamp. Finally – I am legally in Denmark.

An interesting development occurred while I was awaiting the C stamp from the inquisitive officer; another officer brought in a man, not handcuffed but obviously detained (at the very least). I overheard a few of the officers discussing the situation, and the officer who originally brought me over to this office explained to me that the detained man was an illegal alien; he did not have the proper paperwork to be in country. Glad I was persistent.

The 80s were still there when I returned to school. Students were busy researching their projects and beginning to compose their presentations. Some were a bit frantic, while most seemed very at ease with the projects. I spoke with some groups and answered some questions today, not nearly as many as yesterday, but it was enough to keep me busy for the remainder of the afternoon. It has been during these informal discussions that I have come to know a few of the students.

Les Hannah, day 16, part final

A typical day here ends at 2:30 in the afternoon, and the place is usually deserted by 3. Only the custodians remain. There are four periods, lasting about eighty minutes per, with a fifteen minute break in between. The administration has asked me several times if I am doing too much work. I tell them, “No, you should see my schedule back home.” I was even told today that I was being too nice; I needed to say “No” every once in a while. Now I have been accused of many things in my lifetime, but being too nice was never one of them. Am I slipping? Seriously though, the director told me to say no to some of the requests for my time, that I am only supposed to work so many hours per week.

So I did what any respectable Danish teacher would do in a moment like this; I packed up what I was doing and headed for the city centre. Actually, I did have to go register with the Police in Esbjerg. I finally got my resident alien work permits over the weekend and needed to get a work visa stamp. My instructions in the letter from the Danish Immigrations Office was to go to the local police, show them the work permit, and ask for a C visa stamp.

I made my way to the Esbjerg Police Station and asked for assistance at the front desk of the offices. After several minutes of trying to figure out what I was doing there, one officer finally took the lead and decided I needed to go to the jailhouse and ask for a certain officer who does the alien registration. However, there was a catch; that type of service is only available from 9 to noon each day. Well it was way past noon. “Come back tomorrow.”

So I went browsing in more shops. The pedestrian street (as the locals call it) is very cool. Shops of every kind stretch for about a kilometer. I have not been to all yet, but I think I will make my way around before I leave here. I spent about an hour walking around downtown before heading back to the north, towards my house. Wearing my new gloves and cap the ride back was not so cold as this morning; I could still feel my fingers by the time I got to the house.

I settled in and watch CNN, some news of the pending rescue of those Chilean miners. I have been following that story loosely since their ordeal began. I admire them. They did not give up. What fortitude those miners have. I know some students back home who could take a lesson in fortitude from thirty-three Chilean miners.

Les Hannah, day 16, part 1

Back to school. This morning’s ride in was cold. The temperature dropped more than expected. It did not take me long to realize that a pair of gloves and a knit cap were the next purchases I needed to make. I, of course, had some at home but did not think to bring them. Actually, I did consider it but not knowing of my housing situation before hand (at least the distance and transportation issues) I left the gloves and cap. Wishing I had them this morning. I rode one handed most of the way, switching hands between the handles and the pockets. My ears were not so bad, but my nose got cold. I don’t know about you but I can usually tolerate cold fairly well except when my nose, fingers, or toes get cold, then I am freezing. So long as those three areas stay warm I am OK, but once they get cold I cannot turn the thermostat up high enough. And my nose got cold; dear god it took me two hours to warm up once I got to school. When I got finished today guess what I bought.

This week at the school is Return to the 80s week. It’s an annual thing. Not the 80s but this week and its related festivities. Turns out that this week all of the third (final) year students are on a field trip of some kind to somewhere in the world. Some are in Spain; some are in Portugal. Some even went to the US – New York I think someone told me.  It is a requirement of the school that before graduation each student has some sort of international experience. Not a true study abroad thing, but at least they get out of the country.

I should say here too that the school has a sort of home room system, similar to what many people of my generation (and others before and since) might recognize. Except, in Stilwell, where I attended school, the home room system meant that the teachers stayed in the same room all day and the cohort of students travelled from one room to another for different subjects. Here it is the other way around; the students stay in the same room all day and different teachers with different subjects travel to them. Each third year teacher is assigned a cohort that they are responsible for, so these teachers made the trips with their particular cohorts. The destinations are decided upon by the students.

While the third year students are away the first and second year students have a midterm projects week, a bit similar to what the American university system calls midterm exams. However, here these exams are not really that heavy in the grade book. They are more for the experience of preparing and presenting research. This year’s theme just happens to be the 80s. All week long there are no classes; well, not exactly. The teachers all assembled in the cafeteria or an adjacent study area, and the students were free to roam about the building, stay in their classrooms, go to the library, basically whatever they needed to do to prepare the presentations. They worked in small groups, typically four or five.

I spent the day sitting in the study area with and near the other teachers. Several students came to me for information – not just about American Indians but about the 80s. I was asked questions about fashion trends, toys, popular sodas, the McDonalds vs Burger King “burger wars.”So I spent the day discussing with several students the 1980s. To most of these students that decade is ancient history; many of them were not even born yet. The discussions were interesting and entertaining though. I enjoyed it.

Pamela Louderback, Day 5

Today brought much joy as well as consternation.  It began with a visit from the local water testing officials.  Periodic testing is required to look for Legionella bacteria - whatever that is?  I'll have to Google it ; )
All seems to have checked out in that department --so I guess I'm clear, or should I say, the water is clear of Legionella bacteria! 

I was able to access the library with my staff card without a hitch.  Additionally, I was able to get wifi courtesy of Leona for both the netbook and the laptop.  Their tech support/help desk is phenomenal here at QUB - very helpful, patient, extremeley accomodating and they actually explain what they're doing and why as they work on your problem.  I was told it would work in the Institute of Governance building where my office resides, but, alas, it was not to be!  I'll have to check with the friendly staff at the library tomorrow to see how to troubleshoot.  My office has the desktop pc -- so I just have to figure out where to find a quiet out of the way spot to post vodcasts.  I had hoped I would be able to do so in the office with the laptop which has softward already loaded on it.  I may just have to schedule the use of one of the "group" study rooms in the library. 

Hit a bit of a snag regarding opening up a bank account.  Seems there's a huge money laundering problem in Northern Ireland - go figure - so, as a result, there are extremely stringent rules to follow.  The form letter that I had in hand from the Fulbright Commission did not suffice since it was a copy from an emailed PDF.  There's also a special letter template required!  So I sent that off to the Fulbright Commission requesting they post this new letter on the bank's special template before I could get my interview.  Yes, you actually have to go through an interview to open up a bank account.  It seems they would be happy to get your service and have access to your money - as banks in the U.S. do, but not so here in Northern Ireland.  So, I await the posted letter from the Fulbright Commission so that I can make an appointment for an interview and then wait 6-9 business days to access my money.  Still no dog fix today either.  Maybe that's why I'm a bit on edge, eh? 

There's currently a seminar taking place across the hall from my office so I think I'll take a peek and see what the topic of conversation is.   More later...

Les Hannah, day 15, part final

Today’s entry will be boring; of that I am certain. But that was the goal. I did a whole lot of nothing but reading and writing. Well, I did my laundry too. There is no dryer here, but one of those carousel style clothes lines in front of the house. Not sure why it is placed there; that side of the house gets very little sunshine because of all the trees on that end. Oh well. So I did my laundry and hung it to dry. And then I settled in to do some reading and writing. I worked on these entries for a good deal of the time, plus I read several chapters from one of the Robert Conely books I brought. Robert is my buddy. He and I go back some years; I have spent many good hours in his company. I like being around Robert, people like him. Smart people. People who can converse with anyone and hold a respectable conversation no matter who is on the other end. I admire that kind of intelligence, and I only hope I possess a fair portion of it.

This is how I spent this entire day; I even went to bed early. Sorry for the lack of excitement, but hey – it was a lazy Sunday. And I took full advantage.

Les Hannah, day 14, part final

My first full weekend in Denmark, and whatever shall I do? Some suggestions from my Danish colleagues were to go north along the strand to what they called the forest or to go to Fano Island (pronounced fan-oo).  That is what I did.

I took my time in leaving the house, mainly because it was cold this morning; I waited for it to warm some. I rode the bike to the harbor and found the ferry that runs to the Island every fifteen minutes. Fano is a quaint little place; people live there, but apparently it is a huge draw for German tourists. My colleagues here have told me that the Germans load up their cars with picnic goodies and of course beer, then come to Fano for the weekend to camp, wind car race along the beach, or just get away from Germany for a while. And I did see lots of Germans while on Fano. Mostly I saw Germans on bicycles; I suppose because I, myself, was on a bicycle touring the island, but Germans on bikes were everywhere.

I spent about five hours on Fano and rode that bike pretty much all over the island. I stopped at a few shops; looked about. Had myself another of those fabulous ice creams I have come to love here. This one was a chocolate mix called Tiger. WOW! I just enjoyed the time touring around, through the very narrow streets, taking in the view of the North Sea, trying to figure out how those thatched roofs did not leak like a sieve.

I had fun: Fano = fun, well at least for a tourist, and that was exactly what I was this day. I have posted several photos from my day on Fano on my Facebook page; check them out.

Well, the long bike ride back to the house was next. Actually, it was not that bad. Guess I am getting used to this means of locomotion. I am going to be in pretty good shape by the time this Fulbright assignment is over. I bet I rode that bike thirty kilometers today. I ride it a minimum of thirteen each day just going to and from the school – and that is if I go straight there and back, but I never just go there and back. I go either to the city centre or the shopping center on the way back from school. Fifteen kilometers a day, easy, and some days (like today) much more.

Riding that bike so much today made it easier to relax once I did get settled in at the house. By the time that happened it was late in the afternoon; the sun was shining into the sun room and warming it to the point of sleepy-time. I wanted to lie down and take a nap on the couch, but decided against it because I would probably be awake all night, so I read some from a book instead. Toward the early evening I turned on the TV and watched some of those German language programs. I have created a little game for myself. Though I do not fully understand what they are saying in most cases I listen to the voices dubbing over the American shows and see how close those voices sound to the ones in the States. Now don’t laugh, but I have watched quite a lot of Spongebob Squarepants (or Spongebob Shawmkapf as he is called here); it’s one of Lexi’s favorite shows and many are the times I end up watching it with her – whether I want to or not. I have noticed here that whoever the German actor is doing the voice dubbing of Spongebob sounds almost exactly like the one in the States. However, hardly any of the other characters sound at all like the American version. The same holds true for the Simpsons. The German voice of Lisa is dead on, but Marge, Homer, and Bart are not at all like the American versions. Apu is close, but not exact, but it is very funny listening to a distinctly German voice try to fake an east Indian accent such as Apu on the Simpsons.

Well, that is how I spent this day, this evening, and half the weekend. What did you do?

Pamela Louderback, day 4

Still getting used to the time change - or maybe it's all the tea I'm drinking because I can't seem to get to sleep until around 3 a.m.!  Met with Margaret again - got my card and username/password - I'm official!  Off to the library after some lunch.  I hope to be able to visit the Lewis Carroll room.  Personally, I think the original library much more beautiful in architectural style but am glad the new library has so much more room.  I'll be assigned a Queens University Belfast (QUB) email tomorrow. 

Using my social networking skills to make more contacts.  I've been invited to morning coffee Thursday so I should be able to meet more School of Law faculty.  Am also trying to work out a possible "tag along" with a class going on a field trip (thanks to Margaret) - more details to follow (unless it falls through). 

I'm still on the lookout for dog volunteer opportunities - hope to touch base with a local rescue foundation.  The staff at reception were extremely surprised and I think somewhat amused at my request - seems nobody has ever asked for such a thing - guess I'm just a bit crazy when it comes to dogs.  Met a dandy welsh collie pup yesterday - four months old by the name of Taschi.  I'm not sure of the correct spelling - I had quite a bit of trouble understanding her very proud owner.   But my dog fix has subsided and I'm in need of a another one, and soon! 

Once I get the FlipShare figured out I'll start sharing pics and videos.    

Les Hannah, day 13, part final

Friday, in this particular class, is cake day. It is a custom of this group of final year students to bring cakes to class and share them during lunch. A system of rotation between the students is in place to ensure that everyone has cake, but not everyone brings a cake at the same time. Three girls had the goodies this day: two brought cakes and one brought a selection of breads and spreads. The cakes were good – really good, but I went for those breads. I like bread anyway. Often I will get bread of some type and some Italian dressing, or sometimes ranch, and make a snack of that. Just sit there and dip the bread into the dressing and snack on that instead of chips.

Those breads were good, and the butter and other spreads were awesome. The butter here is so different. It is smoother and has a more intense flavor than the butter I am accustomed to in America. I have noticed that with many of the foods I have tried here – especially the ice cream. I have tried three different types of ice cream here – three types that I can also get in the States. And the flavor here is just so much more. I had never tasted strawberries like what I had on my ice cream here one day – and I’m from Stilwell. Those of you who know Stilwell’s claim to fame know the power of that particular statement. These berries were the most incredible I have ever tasted. Same with the blueberry ice cream I had a few days later. There is just so much more of the flavor that makes things good, and that same principle applied to the spreads and butter this young lady had with her breads.  Good stuff!

Well, this is not supposed to be a dissertation on the ice creams I have eaten while here, so I guess I had better get back to school. Following the cakes and breads class I was finished for the day, well at least at the school I was. I stayed around for a little while in my office working on something or another (I have honestly forgotten what) but it kept me occupied for an additional thirty or so minutes.

Once I left the school I headed to the city centre to do some walking around and check out a few of the shops. I really was not intending on shopping, but seeing what was available for when I did go back to get gifts for the family. I spent the next two hours walking around in downtown Esbjerg, just going from one shop to another. The clothing here is very nice. I am thinking about getting myself a new suit before I return to the States. Of course gifts for the family are on the list too: Tori, Lexi, my Mom, and others. But I really have no idea what. There are too many choices, which presents a whole new type of problem. Were there only a few things to choose from it may be much more simple; too few and it would be frustrating, but too many – and there are too many. Of course when I talk to the family via Skype and ask what they might want they are of no help. “Oh, I don’t know” or “Well, just whatever.” Guess I will keep going from time to time and hope inspiration strikes me when I am least expecting it.

Following my purchaseless shopping spree I headed back to the house where I settled in for the evening. Putting away my things for the day I took a walk along the little creek. No particular point to the walk other than to just enjoy the time out in nature. The sound of gently flowing water has a power over the soul. Sometimes I would like to be a leaf adrift on such waters and just see where it takes me.

Les Hannah, day 13, part 1

By now you know of the typicalness of my morning routine to make ready for the day, so I will trouble you no more with it. Only should there be a disruption in the before-school custom shall I note anything about the morning.

I was in two classes back-to-back, the first two periods of the day. I had met these classes before, so the dialogues were a bit different from what I had been having. Today I took into the classrooms the Anitsodi sticks and ball I brought: Indian stickball. I told them about the game and its traditional purpose. I even pulled up some YouTube videos of the game. Most of the students were a bit shocked at the brutality of the game, and then I told them what Anitsodi means: Little Brother of War. I told them of the historical significance of the game and how it gave birth to the game of lacrosse. I even gave a quick little lesson on throwing the ball and displayed my deadly accuracy with the ball. Actually, I did hit a target inside the first room three times in a row. Granted I was standing still – no one was chasing me, and the target was a mere eight feet off the ground and I was only about fifteen feet away. The target was a poster of Eva Mendez; why? Because it was about the only thing to shoot at. I hit her in the forehead three times in a row. Nothing personal Eva; I’m sure you’re a wonderful human being.

I let a few of the students try their hand at throwing the ball. Some of them did fairly well for the first time. Others – well, we could have been there all day and not gotten a shot off. I think some of them are ready to try a game. Some of the teachers also seem like they would like to try. Perhaps we can get a game going someday soon after we return from Autumn break.

I repeated the display in the second class and again allowed students to try their hand. The first class of the morning was a group of second year students; this class was third (or final) year, so they were a bit more savvy and inquisitive. I received many good questions about the game of Anitsodi.

During this session the topic of matrilineal societies and the clan system came up. I do not remember exactly how, perhaps something I said triggered a question or one of the students took something I said the previous time I visited this class and did a bit of research; no matter, the topic came up and I addressed it. The females in the room were quite pleased at the Cherokee definition of matrilineal society. The males, not so much. But of course they perked up a bit when I told them that men often had multiple wives – in traditional times. A few smiled and started bragging about themselves, but then one of the girls in the class reminded the boys that in such a society multiple wives meant multiple bosses. That ended the celebration rather quickly.

Pamela Louderback, Day 3

Checked in with reception regarding house-keeping, rent, heating but my contact had called in sick.  Seems the multiple degrees I possess cannot help me decipher directions on how to operate the heating units, the microwave, and the washing maching.  I only wish I had a t.v. that I couldn't figure out, as well!  ; )

Decided that since reception was a "wash", I'd pop in to the Institute of Governance/Law to check in.  Seems nobody knew I was arriving save for one person, and she didn't share that information with anyone else.  It caused quite a flurry of excited activity around the office.  However, a few emails and phone calls later by Margaret (my new best friend)-- and voila! - I was set up with an office.  The whole process took less than 30 minutes and everyone was very helpful and accommodating - even giving me a cup of tea (thanks Teresa)!  Necessary forms for temporary staff status were filled out and hopefully - by tomorrow - I will have my staff card, username/password, etc...so that I'll have full access to the Library.  Can't wait to begin my research!  Until then, I at least have a lovely office to use - something I didn't expect.  

I'm off to Dunn's for some towels.  Seems it's about twenty minutes walk through the University, past the Botanic Gardens, and over the river.  With any luck, I'll find it without getting lost.  

Les Hannah, day 12, part final

I thought I was possibly crossing a line that I did not know where it ran just yet, but that graphic line of dialogue opens eyes and minds. This particular group contained older students, juniors and seniors we would call them, and they took the points well and gave them a home in their minds. That was really a break-through moment I think. I earned a bit of a reputation as a hard-hitting speaker on Indian matters this day. I would find out more about that later.

Following my presentations in the classes I had a meeting with Pia, another of the English teachers, whom I think is also the department chair. She also works for the Danish Ministry of Education as an examination preparer. Our teachers in the US will have some parallelism with this, a person who prepares and administers the end of instruction exams for the different state standards. Pia was to help me set a schedule for the remainder of my time here in Denmark, which actually she could not fully do, only give me a general idea of what might be happening in the coming days.

Turns out the educational system here in Denmark is not at all like ours at NSU when it comes to academic freedom. Colleagues, take careful note of this and be thankful for what you have. As I understand the system here – please bear in mind that I have been here only a few days and this may not be a full vision of the Danish system – teachers are not at all in control of the schedules, and the schedules change about every two weeks. By that I mean the Ministry of Education (or someone somewhere) sends out new schedules and lesson plans every two weeks. This seems very prescriptive. I am not sure I could function properly knowing only two weeks at a time what lessons were to be taught, and to have the dictated to me from someone afar who has no idea what the personality of a class is, what is going on in the classroom, and my pedagogical philosophies.  There seems to me to be no academic freedom, well – maybe some, but certainly not the level we enjoy in America, and certainly not the level we have at NSU. That is not an indictment, simply an observation of what seems to be a major difference. Although I do not fully know the system here.

Students even seemed to have responded to my different style of teaching. Apparently because I am a visiting scholar I am afforded liberties that the system’s teachers do not enjoy. Students commented to some of the teachers and administrators (and it got back to me) that they liked my “free-wheeling” style of discussions. One student even told his teacher, his own English teacher, that my discussion in his class was the “… best English lesson he had ever had.” I was not sure what to say to that; after all, this was his English teacher whom he told that and who was now relaying it to me. I managed a meager “Thanks” and quickly tried to shift the topic. But apparently every class I have visited so far is eager to have me return.

Following this scheduling meeting with Pia I made my way home. The bike ride seemed very easy. What wind there was happened to be a tail wind; that combined with the longer, slightly downhill orientation of the ride home made the going easy. I made it in record time. I’m not sure what the record is, but it was record time for me.

The remainder of the evening was calm time; I sat around relaxing some at first, then later did some reading and writing. Funny, I am not feeling so driven here. By that I mean when I am home, at NSU, I feel self-driven to be productive every moment I am awake. Each day starts at zero for me, and if I do not hit 110% by the day’s end I feel a sense of nonaccomplishment. I am not feeling that here

Les Hannah, day 12, part 2

Beginning to settle into a routine at the school helps the day go by quicker. Today I was in three classes back-to-back, following the weekly assembly. So far with all of the classes I have not had a scripted lesson plan, but just went in and began talking. After some quick talking points and a few seed questions the students opened up and began asking me questions. Today was no different.

I have started every class so far (once beyond the introductions) with “What do you know about American Indians?” Students list a few things, stereotypical images common even in the United States. And then I follow with, “And how do you know it?” And almost exactly the same thing I often hear in the US – “From movies and TV shows.” In an earlier post I noted that these people have approximately 6000 miles of geography between them and Indian Country, and that can certainly be an inhibitor to the intimate knowledge I would hope to find when inquiring and American’s indigenous peoples.

So I set almost immediately to busting myths, myths and stereotypes created, perpetuated, and compounded by movies such as Dances with Wolves and television shows such as Hondo. I have noticed that Hondo is on several channels here in Denmark. I have found it many times already. And each time I see it white men in makeup and buckskins are falling off the backs of horses every time Hondo gives them a look.

I discussed with these students, as with the others so far, the Trail of Tears and the Indian Removal Act. I also explained that similar forced removals have happened across the US and Canada and over a span of many years.  I discussed the differences between Reservations and Allotments. One student noticed I kept using the word Nation where referring to the American Indians; certainly I used it every time in relation to the Cherokee Nation. So I explained that and what tribal sovereignty is.

Also discussed were many of the negative stereotypes assigned to Indians: alcoholism, drug abuse, laziness. I had not been with these people very long (the Danes, not just this class) and did not have a real feel for their sensitivities on national issues, so what I said in response to that question was a bit of a gamble for me. I responded by asking,” Are there alcoholics in Denmark?” The answer was yes. “Are there drug addicts in Denmark?” The answer was again yes. “And are there lazy people in Denmark?” Once more, the answer was yes, but this time most of the class began laughing and pointing at a classmate of theirs. I suppose this young man has a bit of a reputation. But my point was beginning to take shape. Sensing that a good portion of the class got the notion of where I was taking this line of dialogue I finished it off with, “So why does the world not think of Danes as a nation of lazy alcoholics and drug addicts?” Point made – and taken.

Les Hannah, day 12, part 1

I began this morning as I have the others so far, the typical morning routine, even when I am home. I know I did not get into bicycle shape this fast, but the ride into Esbjerg did not seem as laborious this morning. I know what it was; the wind was not as high. That head wind sure makes a difference.

Today was a bit different from the previous days; apparently once per week this school has an assembly wherein all students, faculty, and most of the staff gather in what Americans call the gymnasium (here that word has a totally different meaning) and listen to announcements from the faculty and administrators. I was asked yesterday by the deputy director if I would speak at the assembly and give a brief introduction of myself and tell everyone where I am from and a slight bit about myself. Of course I agreed. The first period of the day I was off; I did not have a scheduled class to speak before, so I sat in my office working on a few things. The assembly was during the first few minutes of the second period. It lasted about thirty minutes, and I was the final item of the agenda. I was introduced to the approximately 600 people in the gym by the director of the school.

I said only a few words, my name, where I was from, mentioned the Fulbright assignment, and that was about it before the the director broke in and announced that yesterday was my birthday. I was hoping I could get away with it, but not so. Only one person mentioned anything to me about it yesterday; one class wished me happy birthday the day before because they would not be seeing me again for a while. The teacher of that class friended me on Facebook about a month before I arrived here, so she knew from my postings there. But I never expected anything like what happened next. The entire school sang Happy Birthday to me.

So, I tried to follow that act by resuming my little introduction of self. I pulled up my Facebook page to show some photos; I opened the NSU home page and told a bit about it and the history of the university. I also showed them on Google Maps where it all is: Oklahoma, Tahlequah, NSU. I took all of ten minutes to give the brief who, what, where story, and the assembly was over. From there I followed one of the English teachers to the final forty-five minutes of her class.

Les Hannah, catching up

I am certain by now that those who are following my Denmark blog have realized that there has been some down time. Well, it was Potato Week (I will explain in the blog) which meant a week long break -- Autumn Break. I have been traveling and have not had immediate nor reliable access to the Internet.
You have also likely noticed that the days are not matching up with the dates. Well, the blog is about two weeks behind the actual dates of the activities. That is because of the traveling I did to get to Denmark and the fact that the blog was not set up before I left. Eventually all things will balance and the days will all be covered, so please be patient and keep checking. Now that Potato Week is over and school is back in session I will be posting more regularly.

Pamela Louderback, Day 2

Getting settled into Elms Village near the campus of Queen's University.  This is where visiting and new faculty are allowed to stay...self-contained apartments and are nice.  It's within walking distance of the campus.  Did some shopping at Tesco for groceries.  Walked around the campus a bit to get familiar with things.  Temperature has been mostly in the 40's. 
Once campus offices open up Monday, will complete the check-in process with Queen's including getting heat & hot water turned on!  Will attend a reception tomorrow as well.  Anxious to start working!

Pamela Louderback, Day 1

After a delay in Houston, I managed to make my flight in Newark for Belfast.  I arrived here safely around 9 a.m. (3 a.m. Tulsa time). 

Met a really nice guy from Northern Ireland - Paul McGilloway - a guitarist and composer.  He's been in NYC following his dreams for the last nine years.  His wife surprised him with a plane ticket back home for his birthday.  Happy birthday and welcome home to Paul McG -- have a safe and blessed travels.  If you're interested, check out his website and/or myspace account at: http://www.paulmcgilloway.com/ or www.myspace.com/paulmcgilloway to learn more about him.  I will post more tomorrow (Sunday).

Les Hannah, day 11, part final

Following that meal, I walked just around the corner to where I rented the bike, which is the same place the school rented the house for me, and I told the manager of the issues with the laundry washer. She made a phone call and assured me someone would be out later today to examine the situation.

Assured of clean laundry sometime today I decided to treat myself; after all this was my birthday. So I rode the bike to the city centre and went into some of the shops. Nothing in particular in mind to buy, just looking. I did pick up a few small things, such as batteries for the TV remote (hope that fixes it) and a couple of other small items. Four triple A batteries cost the equivalent of $11.23.

But those were not the treats I promised myself. I bought an ice cream cone. Out of curiosity more than anything else. The ice cream here does not at all look like what I see in Braums when Lex and I go. I looks much more creamery, almost like a parfait. I had strawberry, naturally. Guess I reverted to my Stilwell roots. Well, let me tell you that the strawberry ice cream here is fantastic. If the ice cream is more creamery then the berries are more berriery (is that really a word?). Well, it is now. People have told me that the growing season for many fruits here is much longer than most other places in the world, much slower, and the fruits have more flavor than many other regions. So far that is holding true. The apples I have had are smaller than those in the US, but have much more flavor. So too with the berries in the ice cream I had. WOW!

Guess what I did after that. Just guess. I went into a tobacco shop and purchased some cigars; one was a genuine Cuban, the first one of those I have had in a very long time. What? It was my birthday. So yes, it was expensive. That Cuban cigar, about four inches long, cost the equivalent of $28.00. So that is probably the last one of those I will have for quite another long stretch of time.

I spent about two hours walking around the city centre before returning to school for a planning meeting. The meeting was to plan examinations which will take place next week; I was to help plan my part in the exams. That really did not take long; I am to act as a consultant to the students who are working on American culture projects. That is quite a few, so I may be very busy next week.

Following the meeting was the not-so-long bike ride to the house. As I suspected it took less time get back than it did get to school this time the wind was at my back, and the return trip is the more downhill side. I timed this, and I shaved over seven minutes off my morning time. It began raining on me in the last few hundred meters (I am already thinking in meters), but not hard so I was able to make it and remain relatively dry.

It was not long before a really nice fellow showed up to examine the washer. Turns out it was something very simple, a loose drain hose that had fallen to a point where the washer could not drain properly. Took him about fifteen minutes to fix it. During conversation he told me his daughter was in the States attending a university in New York somewhere. We discussed the differences between American and Danish schools. Turns out the guy had a Masters Degree in education, and here he is a plumber/washer repairman. I have heard this about the Danes, that there are many very well educated citizens working in jobs that Americans would tend to look down on as less-educated, second-class workers. I did read some literature at the school that notes several garbage workers, the people who ride around holding onto the backs of trucks and picking up people’s trash, many of them have PhDs. Why? – Because they wanted to. Why pick up trash? – Because they want to. They see it as a necessary service to their fellow human beings, and in the quasi-socialist government of Denmark they feel no desire to make lots of money. Medical is free; dental is almost free. Most university or trade school tuition and support is free – but selective. Though it seems I may be complaining about the cost of so many things here, I am reminded that most of it is taxes; 60% for certain things. However, those taxes come back almost immediately to the people. More on this in a forthcoming post.

I had the rest of the evening to myself. I smoked my Cuban cigar and enjoyed a couple of Tuborgs, a local beer, and spent the remainder of the evening watching that German and Danish language TV I have no choice but to watch. After all, I am in Denmark.

Les Hannah, day 11, part 1

Today is my birthday. I turned fort… twenty-five today. Well, in my mind. At the time I am writing this I am not yet fort… hhhmmm, twenty-five at home; it is still yesterday there, but only for a few more hours. Nothing lasts forever.

Knowing I was growing older in Denmark, not that it mattered, I readied for the day. The shower, the shave, all that.  Dressed and out the door a bit after 7am. This was my first time to ride the bicycle to school and I had no idea of the time it would take; I estimated about thirty minutes, and that turned out to be very close. I ran the stop watch on my iPhone and it turned out to be just a few seconds over twenty-six minutes. But that was into the wind, a rather steady wind too – all the way.

Now I try to exercise regularly. I do stretching and some mild aerobics, and then I either walk or run for about two miles; this is my normal morning routine at home, before I begin the day at NSU. But this biking thing, that works a whole different set of muscles. I am not sore, but I can sure tell what muscles are seeing work they haven’t seen in a while.

My day began as did all the others here so far. I was in two classes with a different instructor, one whom I had not yet worked with. The first class I went to was a second year group of students. I approached this course a little differently than I did the classes of the previous days. I gave them much of the same introductory dialogue, but then I shifted gears on them some. I began telling stories. They really liked that. This is yet another testimonial of the power of story, and how people the world over love and revere stories.  I told them some interactive stories and got plenty of help from the students. They did a wonderful job and enjoyed the exchange.

That class finished, and we had a quick break of about twenty minutes, then it was straight into the next class.  I approached this class much the same as the previous. These students, however, were first year students. This group was large, maybe because of no absences or maybe it just seemed larger than the others until now. There were thirty, and they were active, energetic, and seemingly anxious to learn. I saw several in this group actually taking notes; that’s a first, at least so far. Once young lady had lived in the US for a while, in Kentucky. When I was telling about the original Cherokee homelands and how what is now Kentucky was part of those old homelands she said that she already knew that. Of course I asked how she knew and that is when she revealed that she had lived there for a while. She did not have the strong Danish accent that everyone else whom I have encountered has, so I am assuming she may have lived there for some time. I did not ask, but there was not the accent of the others.

Finishing that class, Kent and I headed to lunch. A colleague of theirs, and temporarily mine, had just passed his government teacher’s certification examinations, the equivalent of a Master’s degree in the USA, and he was celebrating by catering lunch for all his colleagues. It was delicious. I have no idea what I was eating, but it was very pleasant to look at (almost too good looking to eat) and it was delicious.

Les Hannah, day 10, part final

So I settled in for an evening of more German and Danish language TV, but there developed a problem with the remote (I think). It stopped working; it would no longer change channels and it had stopped on the channel guide, the one with previews. No problem I said to myself, I will just do it the old fashioned way and actually physically change the channels. Not so fast – no buttons. It is a remote only television. OK. Now what? I ended up watching some of the DVDs I brought over to show the students, previewing them for content and materials we can discuss in the coming days, and then I did some reading.

I went out into the yard to look for the pheasants that had been regular visitors during the first days here but saw no sight of them. I saw no wildlife at all this time, and that is unusual. Well, I am not sure I have been here long enough to call anything usual or not, but so far I had seen wildlife of some sort nearly every time I stepped outside. But not today.

I walked around a bit more before going inside and reading more for the evening, then went to bed around 10pm Dansktime. One more day in the books.

Les Hannah, day 10, part 2

After finishing my lessons (as they are known here) Pia took me to the property management office where they rented my house. They also rent many other things, among them bicycles. I rented a bike for transportation. Instantly I felt more independent, not tethered to the bus schedule and its serpentine routine. I wonder if bus drivers get bored?

So what was the first thing I did after getting the bike? Why, take a trip into town of course. I rode into city centre, what we would call downtown. I have noticed that nearly everywhere I have been during this trip; all downtowns are called city centres. And I even had some money in my pocket, a bit of change left over from purchasing the groceries yesterday and renting the bike today (I paid the full amount in advance).

Once I got to the city centre (it took only a few minutes, well after I figured out where I was and how to get there) I decided I would try the McDonalds. I had not eaten yet and had grown quite hungry by this time, plus I wanted to see if there was a difference. Call it field research. If I were being honest with myself I would probably say I was desirous of something that reminded me of home: and I chose McDonalds? Anyway, I went in, and ordered a Quarterpounder with cheese meal.

OK, so I got my American junk food fix. It tasted basically the same, but it was no true Quarterpounder; it was smaller. The fries were about the same size and the drink, a Coke (which is about all I can find around here) was the same size as a regular drink in the USA. However, the burger was clearly smaller: diameter and thickness. Well I was hungry so I ate it nonetheless and was leaving when I thought how spoiled Americans are. It was a lingering thought that hounded me most all the way back to the house.

However, once I returned to the house my thoughts quickly adjusted to a more immediate issue: the laundry. I had tried to start a load of laundry before I left this morning think that it would run and I could simply dry them once I returned. By the way, there is no drier but a carousel laundry line out in the yard. But the machine never worked. It made a lot of noise, buzzing and humming, some water poured in – I saw that (it is a front loading machine) – and then it buzzed some more and stopped. So I pushed the button again, and the entire process repeated – including the stoppage. Well, at that time I did not have any further time to spend on it, so I left for school, but when I returned to worked on it with a great amount of effort; after all, I was running out of clean clothes.

Still no success. I bet I messed with that thing for ninety minutes and all it ever did was buzz and hum. OK, now I need to stop by the property management office tomorrow and tell them. Hope they don’t think I broke it or am a complaining American.

Les Hannah, day 10, part 1



This morning I was on my own getting from the house to school, so after I awoke and showered, dressed and readied myself I walked to the bus stop. I was given a temporary bus pass by one of the administrators of the school; she said it had four or five more trips left. Well, now less one I made it to school within fifteen minutes of boarding.

The bus ride made me a bit nervous at first; I thought I had gotten on the wrong bus in spite of confirming the number twenty-plus times as the bus approached. It did not take the route I expected it to and I was worried that I might have to walk a long distance after all. However, all was well again when I finally recognized where I was as the bus pulled back onto the strand, the road that runs parallel to the beach. I saw the four large yonegs, the Man Meets the Sea statues, and using that as the most distinguishable landmark in Esbjerg I knew right where I was.



my office



The short walk from where the bus dropped me to the school was brisk; it is always windy here, but certain parts of the city seemingly are more so than others. Perhaps it is just the way the wind winds its way through the building and tree-lined streets.

I took a moment to snap a few photos of the buildings as I entered. I had not yet taken any photos of the school, so I thought this would be as good of a time as any. Entering the building through the one doorway I was familiar with I found my way to my office and settled in for a brief few minutes before I was again met by several people eager to make my acquaintance. Some I had not yet met; others were reminders from yesterday.

I met Pia, the lady with whom I have had the most contact prior to my arrival. She is, I think, my counterpart here: the department head. I went to her class, which was another first year group, and gave them basically the same discussions I gave the other first year classes yesterday. It went well; the students asked questions and were engaged with the dialogue. I think enough moccasin telegraph – Danish-style – has happened in the last twenty-four hours to melt away some of the apprehension many of the students were perhaps feeling about me being here.

It is clear to me that these people know little to nothing of American Indians, and what they do know they know from movies. I cannot begin to count how many times I have heard Dances with Wolves invoked as a reference point. You know, now that I think of it, sad to say it is not much different from many places in the USA. At least these people, the Danes, have a geographic barrier – the Atlantic Ocean – preventing them from readily experiencing American Indian culture. What is your excuse America?

Les Hannah, day 9, part final

The second class was much like the first, all “freshmen” and again somewhat reserved. Although, this group was a bit more talkative. A few more students were active question-askers than in the first class. And I gave basically the same talk as the previous class, so little was very different from before. However, the third class was third year students; in this system these are the “seniors” – the ones about to graduate within a few more hours of credit. This group was lively, engaged, and curious. This age range of students is more what I am accustomed to in an American university system. These would be our second semester freshmen or first semester sophomore level students.  This group was sharp. The dialogue with them was active, entertaining – downright funny in parts; we certainly enjoyed a good laugh when I tried to pronounce some of their names or a few words in the Danish language. However, I got them back when I had them try some Cherokee on for size. I enjoyed this group, and I dare say they enjoyed me.

Before I knew it this time was also up, and that additionally ended the school day. Here, all classes end at 2:30pm, or as time in what seems all of Europe is marked 14:30. Over here that is not military time that is everyone’s time.

After closing the day, one of the English teachers here took me to the bank and shopping for groceries. The Danish Fulbright Commission set up for me a bank account in one of the local moneyries and deposited my first monthly living stipend. After showing my proper identification I was able to access my funds and assure my continued existence for the next few days by purchasing some necessities.

Mette, the English teacher who took me shopping, also took me back to my rented house. When I put the groceries away I realized how little I had. Sure it is likely enough to last me the week I intended, but it was not much. Not much at all.

So I sat there the remainder of the evening watching Danish and German language television, picking up a word or two about every fifteen minutes and thinking what a diet.