Fernando and Kristian are my flatmates. The former, a Spaniard, followed a Danish girl to København and these days the girl is gone. The latter, a Dane, owns the flat and is looking for work as a late 20-something. This morning was my first here, and it felt like a confluence of cultures. Spanish, Danish, and American, converging in the kitchen, over coffee and breakfast. As an aside, french-pressed coffee is the best to my taste thus far; thanks to James for making me my first pot of it all these months ago.
Kristian, Fernando, and I spoke of language first. There are no dialects in Spain according to Fernando. There is only Spanish. Basque is a different language and Catalan is an accent, not a dialect. Potayto potahto I say, and Krisitian agrees. Fernando will have none of it. Segwaying into a brief discussion of Spanish imperial history, we next discussed Italy, how it is split in two with the affluent, 'civilized' north, and the poor, mafioso-controlled south. The Vatican sits as the centerpoint. "It's a funny country," says Fernando, with division and corruption everywhere; the mob controlling the southern half of the nation and pushing its influence into the north through commerce and networking. Fernando says the country's Prime Minister has sent the army to combat the mafia, and even now they are skirmishing. I've not confirmed this, but I haven't really read much into Italy's current events.
The kitchen table is customized with newspaper pages under a varnish layer covering the entirety of its top.
Kristian and I walked while a real estate agent showed the flat. I suppose this is a good time to relay. Kristian has been trying to sell the whole place for some time, since September 08. I recently discovered this fact, in conversation. What it means for me is another move should he finalize a sell. But, not for 2-3 months minimum. The worldwide financial slump has dealt me a fortunate turn: banks won't loan money, so people can't buy homes, which means owners needing to sell will rent out until the the economy swings skyward again. For now, it's a rentee's paradise, and that suits me the rentee just fine.
I scouted out a chunk of DTU's campus this afternoon, riding along from Nørrebro station via S-tog lines to Lyngby station. As the sun set I caught a bus to campus, and found the building where I'll be taking classes starting Tuesday. On my way back to the bus stop, I went through the student center and caught these photographs, each taken through a different color of glass looking out onto a courtyard.
More adventures tomorrow! Hasta luego!
