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Event Report

99 Differences Between Denmark and the USA: Part 1

I spent last week visiting Denmark! I had a blast in my home away from home, and was reminded once again of all the differences that stick out when you’re visiting a foreign country. Often it’s not the big differences that catch you the most off-guard, but the smaller ones—like accidentally turning your outlet off or forgetting to slow down while driving through a country town.

With that in mind, here’s part one of my list of 99 differences between Denmark and the USA that you should be aware of before visiting.

Disclaimer: This list is based on a couple years of personal observations and shouldn’t be understood as a definitive guide. I generally focus on the small, everyday things that stick out unexpectedly, rather than abstract differences in culture and society. My goal is to highlight the rich variety between two countries that are similar in many other ways—and hopefully keep you from getting any parking tickets.

Skt. Knuds Kirke (Saint Canute’s Cathedral) dominates the center of Odense. The church is named after a ruler who was killed in a medieval peasant rebellion, and his remains can be viewed in the basement of the church.
  1. Danish days are longer in summer and shorter in winter compared to US days. This is especially noticeable in winter, when it starts getting dark around 3:30 or 4:00. The rainy weather doesn’t help; Danish winters have more rainy days than clear days, and most of the time the sky is a single shade of grey, like you’re stuck in a giant golf ball.
  2. There are no pickup trucks. Consumer cars are generally pretty small, though semi trucks and large contractor vehicles are still common.
  3. Carpeted floors are rarer. Usually they’re wood, vinyl, or tile.
  4. Nature is your air conditioning. Only new buildings have built-in AC. In the winter, radiators in each room provide heating.
  5. You can’t turn right on red.
  6. If you’re idling for too long, your engine will stop, and then automatically restart when you hit the gas. This is probably to reduce emissions, since Denmark is so environmentally conscious.
  7. Organic food options are everywhere at every grocery store. Vegan options are also common at restaurants.
  8. Bike lanes are very common and are separate from car and pedestrian lanes. In cities, bike lanes have their own traffic lights!
  9. Traffic lights turn yellow and red together right before turning green. Everyone starts moving while it’s yellow/red.
  10. Toilets almost invariably have a #1 button and a #2 button.
This view from the top of Dreslette Kirke (Dreslette Church) on Fyn, Denmark’s central island, is typical of the countryside in August.
  1. Showers have two separate knobs: one for volume and one for temperature. There’s usually two separate pipes going to these controls, one for warm water and one for hot water. You can tell which one is for hot water because calcium always builds up on it. On top of that, both the volume and temperature knobs only can be turned up to a certain point before you have to push in a button to turn them further. This also helps limit consumption of water and heat. Another point for environmental consciousness.
  2. There’s only a couple different brands of everything, so you start to get used to seeing the same towels, plates, chairs, foods, etc. no matter where you are in the country. This makes sense, as Denmark’s population is less than 1/50 the size of the US’s.
  3. Outlets and plugs are circular, larger than American ones, and have two long prongs. They come out of the wall more easily.
  4. Lightswitches are square, mostly flat plates with a slight concave bend to them. Outlets sometimes have an associated switch that turns on/off the power, which can be helpful if you want to turn off your appliance from the wall.
  5. Vacuums (“dust-suckers”) are small boxes that roll on two wheels and use a hose, rather than the standing hoovers that Americans are used to.
  6. People sleep with a duvet (dyne) rather than blankets. Pro tip: the fastest way to re-cover a duvet is to turn the cover inside out, reach through it and grab the two opposite corners, grab two corners of the duvet while still holding the cover, and then shake.
  7. Danish humor revolves entirely around hating the Swedes. Coincidentally, Danish history revolves entirely around going to war with the Swedes.
  8. Public spaces are quiet. Talking loudly will brand you as a foreigner faster than you can say “where’s KFC?” (which is, in fact, found in Denmark).
  9. There never seem to be many kids around. Like its European neighbors, Denmark has a lot birth rate—in stark contrast to my home Utah, which consistently has one of America’s highest birth rates. Denmark’s birth rate is well below the replacement rate. (See also: Do it for Denmark.)
  10. Gymnasiums are actually schools, not where you go to work out.
Roskilde Domkirke (Roskilde Cathedral), where the royal family is buried, is located right across from a gymnasium.
  1. If there’s a spoon placed horizontally above your plate, it means there’s going to be dessert. Among my friends, this is known as the “Spoon of Prophecy.”
  2. The most Danish cuisine is the open-faced sandwich (smørrebrød), assembled on rye or white bread. There are very particular rules about which topping combinations can go on a sandwich, which are enforced at varying degrees of strictness depending on your host. Liver pâté (leverpostej) is a common sandwich topping and is quite good, especially warm. For a treat, you can top your sandwich with a thin slice of chocolate (pålægschokolade). But not at the same time as leverpostej. Again, rules.
  3. Aside from the sandwiches, other special foods you’ll find in Denmark are pickled red cabbage (rødkål) and red beets(rødbeder). Treats include rum-filled chocolate skildpadder (turtles), flødeboller (fluffy marshmallows surrounded by a thin layer of chocolate that you can make explode if you blow into them properly), and æbleskiver (round pancake things eaten with jam). I’m no foodie, but those are the ones that stuck out to me.
  4. Danes eat everything with a fork and knife. Everything. Fork in the left hand, knife in the right. One of my friends made an instructional video for eating spaghetti with a fork and knife.
  5. The green pump is gasoline and the black pump is diesel. I cannot stress the importance of this enough. The only option for gasoline is typically Unleaded 95. Gas is also quite a bit more expensive than in the US—one of many disincentives for driving a car in Denmark.
  6. Bicycles usually have a built-in lock that goes around the back wheel to prevent it from rotating. Some are also equipped with a space for children or goods attached to the front, rather than the back.
  7. Despite Denmark’s general bike-friendliness, there is cobblestone everywhere.
  8. There are castles all over the place, and that’s a normal thing. Many are museums and owned by the state/monarchy; some others are privately owned.
  9. Buildings and towns look very different architecturally. Red-roofed buildings are common, and you’ll find thatched-roof buildings and old estates in the countryside. Old buildings are often repurposed into other things, such as apartments, so don’t always trust what the words on the side say if they’re older than a century or two.
  10. Traffic lights don’t hang over intersections in the cities, and you sometimes have to look around for them. Typically there are several facing each direction, for maximum visual coverage.
Møns Klint (Møn’s Cliff) doesn’t look much like the rest of Denmark, which is quite flat. It’s located on Møn, one of the smaller islands south of Sjælland.
  1. Danes are reasonable humans who use the metric system and Celsius temperatures. Celsius is easy to get a hang of: 0 to 10 is cold, 10 to 20 is warm, 20 to 30 is hot. Room temperature is right around 20. It doesn’t often get below freezing, but you can expect snow occasionally.
  2. Cities are designed for people, not cars. At the center of each city is a walking mall (gågade) which, as a rule, must be equipped with at least two clothing stores, barber shops, restaurants, and lingerie stores, and at least one bakery and drug store.
  3. Danish culture is much more open about sex and nudity, which can be shocking to American sensibilities. It was the world’s first country to legalize pornography, both literary and pictorial/audiovisual.
  4. Rather than a yellow line down the middle of the road, there’s usually just a thicker white line or double white line.
  5. There are roundabouts everywhere. Before each roundabout is a sign that shows a “map” of the roundabout and where each road goes.
  6. All cars are equipped with a small dial with a clock face (p-skive) on the bottom-right corner of the windshield. When you park in time-limited parking, you have to set the p-skive to the time you arrived, so the parking controller knows when you arrived. In larger cities, you sometimes have to find a kiosk, input your license plate number, and pay for however long you’ll be parking (price varies depending on zone), rather than using the p-skive. There are also no-parking signs everywhere, which are blue with a red strikethrough; red curbs aren’t a thing in Denmark. You will also get ticketed for parking close to an intersection, driveway, or turn in the road (which I totally did not learn from experience). A parking ticket runs you about $100 US, and a speeding ticket up to about $300 depending on how fast you were going when the camera caught you.
  7. A small amount called pant is added to the price of bottled drinks at the register. You can return to the grocery store and use a machine to recycle your bottles when they’re done, and the machine gives you a slip of paper that you can redeem for cash or a discount at the register. (Or the amount can be donated to charity.)
  8. Grocery stores are much smaller, and not every store has every type of good. However, supermarkets are becoming increasingly common, though they’re still not as large as those in the US.
  9. Denmark has a lot of churches, but people are generally less religious than in the US. Every village has a church at the center, and they’re often unlocked so you can visit. Churches are elaborately furnished with stunning altarpieces and beautifully carved pulpits. The church (Folkekirken) is part of the state, though there are also independent churches called frikirker (free churches) that can vary in form but are more like contemporary American Protestant services—as opposed to the Lutheran Folkekirke services, which are more ritualistic.
  10. Danish peanut butter is runnier and must be stirred. “American-style” peanut butter is, however, sometimes available at the grocery store Lidl, along with other “American-style” goods.
The workmanship of church organs in Denmark can be quite spectacular.
  1. A low-cost fast food option is a kebab (shawarma) wrap, which is kind of the Danish equivalent of a pizza place. There are pizza places in Denmark, and sometimes they’re combined with kebab shops, but (in my opinion) the pizza isn’t as good as American pizza.
  2. Electric car chargers are common, and it’s usually free to park electric cars.
  3. Speed limits work a little differently—besides being in kilometers per hour, there’s a default speed limit of 50 km/h in towns, 80 km/h outside of towns, and 130 km/h on the motorway (meaning that start- and end-of-town signs effectively double as speed limit signs). Signs can indicate other speeds, e.g. 60 km/h, but when it stops being 60 km/h, there will be an “end of 60 km/h zone” sign rather than a sign indicating the new speed. Speed limit signs are a white circle within a red ring.
  4. Stop signs are rare. A row of white triangles on the road is used instead, which technically just mean you must yield to oncoming traffic.
  5. Denmark has several makes of cars that aren’t found in the US, including Peugeot, Renault, Skoda, Opel, and others. There are also lots of Teslas.
  6. License plates are long and skinny and are an EU-wide design, with a one- or two-letter code above the EU flag indicating which country the car is from. The rest of the plate is white for personal vehicles or yellow for business vehicles, and is always a series of two letters, two numbers, and then three numbers.
  7. The Danish language is the most noticeable difference. However, most Danes can speak some English (it’s mandatory in schools). The Danish writing system has some cool quirks: there are three new letters after Z in the alphabet: Ææ, Øø, and Åå. There are also several options for quotation marks: »these«, “these”, and occasionally „these“.
  8. Grocery stores are a one-way path. Once you step through the automatic gate, the only way out is through the checkout line.
  9. Most grocery stores have a bakery of some kind, from a simple bakery rack to an entirely separate counter. (The McDonalds in Nyborg even has a bakery.) Danish pastries are to die for.
  10. Milk comes in different delineations: skummetmælk (skim milk) with 0.1-0.2% fat, mini mælk (mini milk?) with 0.4%, letmælk (light milk) with 1.5%, and sødmælk (sweet milk) with 3.5%. They come in 1-liter cardboard cartons; you won’t find plastic milk jugs anywhere.
This painting of the adoration of the baby Jesus hangs in Frederiksborg Slot (Frederiksborg Castle) in Hillerød, perhaps Denmark’s most magnificent castle.

What did I get wrong? What did I leave out? Let me know in the comments below. Tune in next week for grocery store checkout lines, cemeteries, Christmas, and more.

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Event Report

Dorothy in Potato Land

THE POTATO STATE. The “Gem State”. Since the name “Idaho” was fake anyway and was originally meant to refer to Colorado*, let’s just call it for what it really is: North Utah.

Light-hearted mockery of our beloved northern neighbors aside (we did help settle you, after all), it’s past time that I share something about my first trip to the state since becoming old enough to appreciate it. My friend Kedric returned from Denmark at the same time as I did, and I wanted to meet his family and hear him talk in church, as well as experience exotic Idaho for myself, so a couple of weekends ago, I decided to make the journey.

The familiar scenery of the 100-mile urban-suburban stretch of I-15 along the Wasatch Front, home to four out of five Utahns, faded into empty desert and bare, low hills that continued for miles. Messages like “no services for 10 miles” and “freeway oasis” began to adorn intermittent freeway exits, and the numbers on the signs that showed how many miles were left until the next major settlements climbed dramatically. After a few hours in the car, I made my first stop in a larger town called Burley to get some fresh air and use the necessary facilities for the car and myself. The town’s visitor center was closed, so I wasn’t able to learn anything about it while I was there, but peering through the glass doors at a flyer advertising a public raffle for a variety of guns (and having just passed the first billboard in Idaho, a woman disdainfully holding a medical mask under the slogan “Freedom is the cure”), I was assured that rural Idaho’s political culture was little different than rural Utah’s.

In fact, the whole trip was an odd fusion of familiarity and unfamiliarity. I chuckled at the sheer familiarity of overhearing the announcement of prizes at an outdoor community event in Burley: “And the Swedish Fish go to Nephi!”, at the universal secondary-school humor of a high school announcement board that was arranged to read “YEE YEE HAVE A GREAT SUMMER”, even at the caricature of the criminal on the “Neighborhood Watch” signs I hadn’t seen since my childhood in West Jordan, Utah. On the other hand, I was surprised when I turned on the radio to my parents’ default 80s music station, 103.1 The Wave–or that was what I thought, until the song finished and the radio announced I was listening to “103.1 The Edge”, which was most definitely not 80s music. It wasn’t bad, until halfway through the first song when I realized it was just as edgy as the name suggested.

I arrived at my destination in Boise early. It was near an Oregon Trail historic hiking path, but after checking it out for a few minutes and deeming the weather too hot, I resolved to drive into town and experience the city for an hour. So naturally, I drove the complete opposite direction and ended up on a gorgeous mountainside highway that snaked along beside a wide river, with no cell reception. After I became convinced that my intuition was not leading me any closer to downtown, I parked the car on the side of the road and took a few pictures. In the river far below, a motorboat drove by, blasting “Party in the USA” at a volume to raise the dead. I like Boise.

Before long, it was time to meet up with Kedric and his friends and hike Table Rock, a mountain near the city. (It’s telling that Denmark calls its hills “mountains”, while the American West calls its mountains “rocks”.) Regrettably, my phone had died at the end of the car ride, so I didn’t get any pictures of the giant cross that towered over the city at the top of Table Rock. (The signage made great pains to indicate that it was built on private land, an apologetic gesture that came off half-hearted, given, well, the giant cross that towered over the city.) The view of the city from the base of the cross was breathtaking. I marveled at how green the area was, despite its location in the middle of the desert. Apparently the name Boise means “forested”. It’s fitting.

I was glad I could make it to the next day’s church meeting. Kedric’s remarks were an honest and familiar reflection of the Kedric I knew in Denmark, a good reminder that taking a missionary tag on or off isn’t a fundamental change in character, just a change in the role one plays.

After the meeting, Kedric offered to show me around the city, since I didn’t manage to make it there the previous day after my Miley Cyrus-accompanied directional mishap. Boise exhibited more tension than rural Idaho (as cities often do). Churches and universities existed alongside clubs, theaters, restaurants and office buildings–though the atmosphere was generally one of organization (especially in contrast to the asymmetrical spread of the European cities like Copenhagen, where I lived for over a year; I was reminded of my first impression of an American city after a long time away: “Seattle looks like it’s built out of legos.”) Gay pride flags hanging over businesses downtown and a Don’t Tread on Me flag hoisted over suburbia proclaimed curiously similar messages from opposite ends of the political spectrum. The absence of graffiti over most of the city was forgotten at the turn of the concrete corner to Freak Alley, the biggest display of street art in the northwestern USA, painted in bright layers of slogans lurid and loving: Focus on the things that bring you joy! Float on! You look lovely today!

Farewell time came too soon. The next day was my first day of school, so I couldn’t stay and linger as long as I would have liked. I found myself really liking Idaho–perhaps it was the verdant scenery, or the beautiful highways, or the good company, or the feeling of being free. (Freedom really is the cure, I thought to myself, though maybe not in exactly the way the billboard intended.) We’ll make it North Utah before too long. ■


*True story. Etulain, R. & Marley, B. (1983). The Idaho Heritage: A Collection of Historical Essays. Idaho State University Press. https://digitalatlas.cose.isu.edu/geog/explore/essay.pdf

Nephi is a major figure in the Book of Mormon.

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Personal Update

Culture Shock

THE CHANGES THAT accompany a visit to a foreign country are disorienting yet expected. From the get-go, you know that there are going to be differences, so you brace yourself for them. Paid public toilets? Sure, that’s part of the deal. Colorful money and coins with holes in them? We’ll run with it. No idea what everyone around you is saying? Welcome to Denmark.

     On the other hand, the shocks that come from being back “home” after time abroad are abrupt and comical. It’s the extra weight of a church hymnal that has twice as many pages as you’re used to. It’s all the extra space between countryside houses. It’s the @quotation mark@ key being in the wrong place on the keyboard. It’s remembering how to work a shower with only one knob for both volume and temperature.

     It’s not an intense or deeply meaningful feeling. It’s just a little pause where newness interrupts an otherwise familiar reality–sometimes very literally, like exiting a bathroom for the first time and having to turn the knob a full 90 degrees because it won’t open at 45 like you’re used to.

     Once in a while, though, it does hit hard. The unfamiliarity builds up to a strange loneliness, a sense that you don’t belong in a place that you should be used to.

     I wonder if you get those moments too: moments of being home, but not. Even if you haven’t been traveling. Sometimes they come and go, leaving that same sense of being in a place where you don’t really belong. Wanting to find the place where you belong. Perhaps it’s a universal longing:

     “[The Old Testament patriarchs] all died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off…and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth. For they that say such things declare plainly that they seek a country.

     “And truly, if they had been mindful of that country from whence they came out, they might have had opportunity to have returned. But now they desire a better country, that is, an heavenly: wherefore God is not ashamed to be called their God: for he hath prepared for them a city.” (Hebrews 11:13-16, KJV)

     The first kind of out-of-place feeling is surely temporary. Within a couple more years, I reckon American things and mannerisms will be second-nature to me again. But the second is a more permanent longing. Some call it religion. Others, philosophy. I suppose I’m one of those strangers and pilgrims who have felt their lives interrupted by that divine newness of culture shock in a world where they don’t truly belong, and who look for “a better country”: something better than this material world. Something higher.

     Don’t we all want something higher?