NEVERLAND

I don’t exactly know what I was expecting in Denmark. Maybe fjords, like in the commercial for the Danone yoghourts, or like in the first book of philosophy we all read in high school Le Monde de Sophie. Fjords and, bikes. But nothing related to any kind of substance. There must be a French substance, I don’t get it because I don’t have this outside look I have with Denmark. I walked a bit in Copenhagen, in Roskilde. In a farm at Trekroner, I met a Danish man, Jorg(s)en, 84 years old. Did you see Toy Story II? Just remember the old guy who repairs Woody and you’ll have a clear representation of who Jorg(s)en looked like. He listed me the countries he had seen during his life. I won’t do it, but, Europe, Northern Africa, Greenland etc. And everywhere I see those red brick buildings, with windows lightened by aged light, or even candles (in my imagination), all this when the night comes etc. And everything is windy, everything is rainy. Everything looks old, ancient. It’s like I’m in a Harry Potter film. You see no skyscraper in Harry Potter, whereas it’s the 21^st century. And the wizards write with feathers, not pens. We had a coffee on Frederikberggade, and I saw a boy, with big glasses, wearing a dusty brown jacket, alone, reading an old book, and drinking his hot coffee. This is the Denmark I discover and I want to know more about. I’m in a country of libraries full of dusty books, works, and books of magic.
Everything is calm; I understand why Denmark is supposed to be one the happiest countries in the world. When you walk by the fjord (I was expecting cliffs and I saw plains of grass) you understand, you feel it. It’s difficult to be angry at anything (except when you didn’t find a job whereas you’ve spent your four weeks in the country looking for one…). And I checked it with my girlfriend when we saw one of these famous Copenhagen young people demonstrations. Just teenagers wearing black sweaters, screaming “Fuck the police !”. Some burnt two or three cars at night and maybe one store has been destroyed, but don’t worry everybody was in bed before midnight with a maternal kiss on each cheek. Denmark seems to be perfect. Maybe the world should be Denmark. But maybe there’s something wrong when everything is too perfect.

One of my friends suggested me to add “gangsta” in the subtitle of this blog. I did it. Writing about happiness around the fjord won’t help me legitimating the presence of this term, but maybe this will:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R8N9gTekfsQ