Dropping my parents off at the airport doesn’t get any easier. It hurts my heart – how much I miss my family and friends in Canada. It puts me in a bit of a funk for a few days – my mind working through all sorts of scenerios and ways to make a move back to Vancouver work. But sure enough, along comes the everyday again and loving being a Canadian in Copenhagen.

I sort of take it a year at a time, but I think it’ll be a while yet. It’s a matter of extremes here – with things that I absolutely love (every day) and others that I sometimes can’t stand (some days) – which I suppose isn’t so unusual when where we come from will always be our benchmark. And a visit from home (just ask my expat friends – German, French or Russian) – sets off this whole series of questions about where to call home – every time. But smiling breath out – I’m happy here, and that is (for now) reason enough to stay. I think Jan’s always relieved when I reach that conclusion – that he won’t be dragged off to Canada just yet anyways.

I’m always super curious when someone uproots again and moves back, especially when the person has been living elsewhere for several years  – I wonder what it finally was that was strong enough to pull them away from all the things that drew them to a new city or country in the first place. My guess is that it’s family. Definitely family.

There is this tricky business of learning to speak and write the Danish language.

One of my big reasons for moving to Denmark 3 years ago was to better my Danish, but admittedly, my enthusiasm for 3 hour long grammar classes twice a week at the end of a busy work day waxes and wanes.  Danish and the perfectionist in me – we have our horns locked. I don’t expect to win (I know the beast I’m up against), but I’d like to at least have fought the good fight and earned my way to a level of fluency I could be pleased with.

I was born in Denmark to Danish parents, and we immigrated to the west coast of Canada when I was a year old – and for the most part we have always spoken English at home & with each other. We still do, even when my parents are visiting me in Denmark – to the horror of our family here in DK of course (which in itself is reason enough: pissing off “we know best” Jysk family = fun). Going from being (relatively) well-spoken to being limited in vocabulary – can be more than a little frustrating, to put it mildly.

We foreigners in Denmark have the great luxury of living among a people so well versed in English and (with rare exception) a very polite willingness to switch to it for our sake – that we could easily get away with not needing to learn Danish at all. There is, however, something that feels terribly arrogant about relying on that luxury, and expecting someone in this country to speak any language but their own. I work in Danish now, after these 3 years, and I might even email in Danish if there’s time for some extra grammar checks. Progress. But there is still a ways yet.

And so it goes – I make about a million mistakes, mix up “en” and “et” words repeatedly, and learn a little more each day about a language so fraught with ‘exceptions to the rules’ that many Danish instructors will refuse to teach some of them – there’s just no point. “That’s just the way it is… I don’t know why,” is the answer I’ve heard a few thousand times – from instructors, colleagues and not least my boyfriend – who by the way – is one of the few Danes I’ve met that isn’t so eager to switch to English – which, now that I think about it, has done me a world of good.

Thankfully, I’m not the only one tackling the Danish language. Apparently the Danes themselves are having problems:

I also love this little piece by a Norwegian living & working in Denmark
Om at lære dansk

Vi starter med lås, der i flertal er låse, men flertallet af gås er gæs – ikke gåse.

Vi taler om fod, er der fler’, si’r vi fødder.

At flertal af mand er mænd – ikke mænder – er svært at forstå, når en tand bli’r til tænder.
Skønt flertal af and som bekendt hedder ænder, så hører man aldrig, at en spand bli’r til spænder.

En anden mærkværdighed er her til lands:
I tredje person er det han, ham og hans. Er det sund logik – ja derom spø’r jeg kuns -
at man ikke om damer si’r hun, hum og huns?

At synge i datid på dansk hedder sang, men gynges imperfectum er ikke gang.
Og hvem kan forstå, hvorfor springe er sprang, når bringe det ikke i datid er brang?

Korrekt hedder datid af bringe jo bragte, hvor er så logikken, når man siger bagte
på basis af infinitiven at bage?

Et andet eksempel: Det hedder at tage. Det bøjes til datid ved, at man si’r tog.
Sku’ bage så ikke i datid gi’ bog?

Når bringe er bragte, sku’ bagte vær’ binge, men så måtte ragte vær’ datid af ringe.
Men ragte det findes på dansk faktisk ikke – derfor må vi hel’re la’ spørgsmålet ligge!

Karl Nielsen
(Skrevet af en norsk fremmedarbejder.)