Debit Card Woes, Yard Work & The Bomb Squad

In my last post I forgot to tell the story of my Debit card. So on Friday night (July 18) Scott and I biked down to the nearest ATM to get some money out of the bank. I put my debit card in and after choosing English, I keyed in my pin. Then it took me to the screen that has predetermined amounts for you to take out. I selected one and waited. Suddenly the screen said that my card had been cancelled. I was somewhat shocked and waited for it to come out. . . it didn't. The printed receipt said the same thing--my card was cancelled. I still am not quite sure why. I didn't get the pin wrong--I've had the same one ever since I got the card. Luckily we are eight hours ahead of Salt Lake, so I could still call the bank that night. They couldn't tell me why either. My closest guess as to why my card was cancelled is that I didn't notify my bank that I was going to be in Denmark on and off for a year--except that I did tell them when I requested a rush on my new card (my old one was set to expire in July). Apparently, they needed some other kind of notification than that. So anyway, on Monday I went in to the bank here and showed my passport and they gave me back my card, letting me know that it was still cancelled. After emailing a note to the bank with a scanned handwritten note questing a reinstatement of my card, I'm still waiting for notification that I can use my card. Luckily, Scott loaned me some money till I can get this cleared up. The other Americans here tell me that it's just Denmark's way of welcoming me. Um, okay.

I also wanted to let Mom and especially Dad know that the Keetches have put me to work helping clean up their yard on Saturday. I know you never thought I had it in me (especially considering the state of the yard at home). We spent pretty much all day trimming, cutting back, hauling and getting rid of blackberry plants. Has anyone ever tried to cut back a blackberry plant? They are vicious. I have all kinds of scratches up and down my arms to prove it. I would've taken a picture but I know there are some tender eyes that might see this. Anyway, I wouldn't ever recommend planting blackberries in any space that you want to keep groomed.

Late Saturday night, the doorbell rang. Scott, Angie and I were all thinking, "Who could that be?" It turns out that it was the police. They told Scott that we should all stay in the house as they had found an unexploded bomb in the garden. Scott looked out the window and there was a special bomb squad truck (we assume it was the bomb squad because none of us are actually proficient in Danish) and everything. About a half hour later, another knock on the door let us know that they were done. They brought a handful of jacket-less softball wadding to Scott as the "bomb." Apparently here in Denmark they have ball shaped fireworks that everyone uses on New Year's. Somebody had seen this ball in our garden and had called the police, thinking that it was one of these large fireworks or a bomb. The funny thing is that the ball was in a part of the yard that was not visible from the street. So, who is wandering around our yard and then calling the police on us? And why aren't they in trouble for making a false accusation and trespassing? Obviously, I'm not in Kansas, Utah, or any of the fifty United States anymore.

Amalienborg Slot, Canal Tour, and Glass Blowing

So, last week on Thursday and Friday we did some fun things. First, we went to the Queen's castle, Amalienborg Slot. This is one of the four house sections. In between the housing sections, there are archways which make the plaza into an octogonal shape. The Danish monarchy is the oldest in the world (a fact of which Danes are proud) and the present queen, Margrethe II, has been on the throne since 1972.

This is a view of one of the arch sections and if you look closely, you can see one guard and the little red guard shacks where they store their heavy coats.
We waited FOREVER for the changing of the guard. They do it every day at noon. When the queen is in residence, the royal band accompanies the changing of the guard. There was no band. Anyways, the first thing that happened was that about six guards came out of the guard room and stood in the square for about ten minutes while we were wondering if that was all that was going to happen.
Then, some guards came around the corner into the plaza (about twelve of them). Apparently they go marching down one of the streets in Copenhagen--that's why we had to wait for so long.
After some manuevering, the two groups of soldiers stood and faced eachother, like this.
Then about six of the soldiers from the group on the left started marching to the other side of the plaza. From our viewpoint, we couldn't see anything so again, we began to wonder if that was it. Maybe the two groups of guards were just going to continue to stare at eachother for the rest of the day--how should we know? Actually, the group that had left went around to the three actually stationed guards, inspected their little shacks and made a switcheroo--aliviating the guard on duty. However, we didn't realize this for another 10 minutes or so till they got back around to where we could see them. Just imagine if there had been as many guards on duty as there were shacks--at least 16 from what I can remember--it would've taken half the day to change the guards!

This next set of pictures is from our canal tour and walking around the city. The city of Copenhagen has a bunch of canals that king Christian IV (I think) built during his reign. First is a royal naval dock--isn't the crown on the top of the building cool?
This is the shot of the marble church that I took from the canal boat. Between the fountain and the church is the plaza of the Amalienborg Slot.
This is a picture of the most photographed street (canalway) in Copenhagen. It's called Nyhavn (pronounced: newhoun). Aren't they cool-looking buildings? They're super old and at one time this with the brothel/drunken sailor district of the city. Now it's much more respectable and clean.
This is the Marmorkirken (marble church). It's one of the largest dome churches in Europe.
This is one of the lighthouse boats that used to patrol the harbor and canals. Now it's a houseboat. There are many houseboats along the canals--how fun would it be to live in a houseboat in Europe?

The previous pictures were all taken on Thursday, the following is what we did on Friday. We went to the Holme Gaarde Glassworks visitors' center. And we got to blow our own glass! This first one is of the official glass blower giving me instructions. The oven behind me is full of melted glass.
If you look carefully, you can see the orange glow of my future glass pitcher (the size of a regular glass--perfect for butter syrup).

And there I am, blowing my glass! I'm an artisan! This is truly a cool thing.
Here I'm shaping the pour spout of my pitcher (so that it will pour).
I think it would be super cool to be able to work with a medium like glass. As we watched them shape different sized vases and bowls, it was amazing. Personally, I think that I'd be liable to burn my hands off--so it's not really a great choice of profession for me.

Some of you have asked how church was on Sunday. Interesting. They provided earphones and translation into English for the English-speaking members in the congregation. The translator sat at the front with a microphone that was linked straight to our headsets. Then, Scott taught sunday school in English (since he doesn't speak Danish) and for Relief Society we were in the over-flow of the chapel and had a translator again. The sister that translated for us then was very obliging to give us a bit of a commentary when the teacher went off on a tangent, explaining that she must have had a bad experience and is bitter for some reason. As for singing, I started out singing the words in English--with my small hymnbook. But then in Relief Society, I happened to be sitting next to the translator, who is also the choir director, and she informed me that if I'm going to be here for a year, I should start learning to sing in Danish and I should join the ward choir (Lynette, are you so proactive in recruiting choir members?). Overall it was great--the language is totally not a romantic language, which makes it totally not easy for me to learn. The pronounciations are completely counterintuitive. But, we'll work on it.

My New Digs

I know you've all been anxiously awaiting this post that lets you know a little of my new environs. This is the view out my window, I wake up to it every morning. Just so you know the sun goes down here about 10:00 pm and comes up around 3:30 am. They tell me that I missed the really long daylight hours. Apparently during the winter you can watch as the sun barely rises above the horizon and then sinks in about three hours.

So, this is the front of our house. It's pretty good size with the two upper floors and a full basement.

Here is the front door.

This is a shot of my bedroom from the doorway--yes it's pretty small, but that alright because I left most of my stuff at home anyway.

This is my bed, or you might say the other half of the bedroom.

And this is just a picture of a water-bottle that I bought in Frankfurt. The story is this. I realized that I forget some things about being in Europe after I bought it. In European mineral water the main mineral they add is carbon--that's right it's carbonized. As I was buying it this slipped my mind and I was able to take about three sips before I dumped out the carbonized water and filled it from the drinking fountain.

This is the street on which we live--pretty isn't it?

And we are lucky enough to have three embassies on our street. First, the Iraqi Embassy.

Next, the Irish Embassy.

And third, the Bulgarian Embassy. I've been told that the bulgarians throw some pretty wild parties--I'll let you know on that one.

This is the pretty, stately house across the street from ours. I love the old architecture here!

So, this gives a little glimpse of my life here in Denmark. The kids are great and Angie and Scott are very nice. I won't start teaching until the test results come back and the materials get here. Contrary to what I've told several people we won't be going to Greece--I know I live a rough life!

Travelling

Saturday and Sunday are a blur to me now. Pretty much it was just one long day of getting on, sitting on and getting off of planes (with waiting in airports in between). Although I was supposed to go through Chicago and then Amsterdam, when I got to the airport in Salt Lake, they informed me that all the flights in and out of Chicago on Saturday were having major delays and I wouldn't make my connection to Amsterdam. So, they changed my whole travel plan and I ended up flying to Denver, then to Washington D.C., then to Frankfurt, Germany and finally to Copenhagen. That one extra leg made it seem lots longer to me and I ended up travelling for about 24 hours total. I got to Copenhagen at 6:15 Sunday night. My layover in Germany was five hours--that was probably the worst part because by that time I was totally and completely worn out and more than anxious to be done flying. But these are some fun pictures of the chocolate bar I bought in the airport in Frankfurt and me eating the chocolate! (Aren't you all jealous?)

Skirt-Sewing Fiend

So, for the last week and a half I've been sewing up a storm. I've made five skirts (plus four of my already existing skirts) to take with me on my adventures in Denmark. Here are some pictures. I don't know if you can tell, but the pink one and the striped one have a little extra ruffle on the bottom. The rest are just the regular straight A-line skirts. Obviously the black one is long.










So, it's kind-of crazy to try to condense my whole life into two suitcases and a carry-on. But I've made a valiant effort and if I've forgotten anything at this point, it might be just too late. One of the hardest parts is considering the fact that I have to be a girl for all seasons--yep, that means big coats, boots, and swimsuits too! And although some of you may disagree, this is definitely different than packing for a mission--I have to take a whole lot more than just missionary clothes--I'm a regular person this time. Dad will be glad to know that I've narrowed the number of shoes down to just nine pairs. I know that sounds like a lot but it's really not when you consider Sunday shoes and regular shoes and boots and sandals and you have to have brown and black of almost all of these.

I'm also having a bit of a dilemma leaving all of my books and movies, but that's a whole other story--how am I ever going to do without them?