So, Thanksgiving. It made me thankful. It started out just like any other day. I went to class and persevered through the boredom of Scandinavian Literary Aspects. The bus took well over an hour, so by the time I got home, the girls had already done most of the preparation. I certainly didn’t mind; The last thing I wanted was to shoulder the burden of ruining the feast. I was in charge of entertainment and mashed potatoes, and the bread. While the duck was roasting, we watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade on a live stream; there was no way I was going to break the habit of welcoming the Christmas season with the Macy’s Santa Claus. As luck would have it, it was time for me to start making the gravy just as the Big Guy was pulling into view. It’s probably why the gravy was subpar, but I don’t think anyone minded too much.

It was the best food I’ve had in a long time. We had duck, mashed potatoes, stuffing, green beans, corn, macaroni and cheese, cranberry sauce, bread, cherry pie, ice cream, and apple cider. Three words: God Bless America.Afterward, we all gathered around and decorated a Christmas tree my mom had sent in a care package. It was a charming ending to a good evening. Krista and Beth went to the French Café afterward, but the mere thought of more food had me spinning, so I went down to my room and passed out for a few hours.

On Saturday morning, I woke up and had zero motivation to do anything. So I Googled “how to overcome procrastination” and the advice I found actually worked, slightly. I wrote a few pages of my culture paper and then decided to go to the Christmas Market in the center of town. I say the word “charming” a lot, but this really was charming. Christmas lights hung over the brick streets, people meandered around in historical costumes, the smell of roasting nuts permeated the air, and everything felt so authentically European. I walked around for about an hour and looked at all the trinkets for sale in the booths, drank some hot cocoa, watched blacksmiths work their magic, etc.

I went to go look for my bike because it was starting to drizzle, of course. Well, I couldn’t find my bike anywhere. I walked up and down the streets several times. Then it dawned on me that the alley I had parked it in must have been a private alley. They had shut the doors over the entrance. Sigh. I waited outside what I thought was the entry, but no one entered or exited for quite sometime. So, I took a look at the calling board and the list of names. I picked one that sounded non-Danish, Connie Salling, and I pushed the button. The door opened and I walked in and found my bike. I said, “Thank you, Connie.” not thinking anyone was around. Midway through unlocking my bike, I look up and Connie Salling is staring me down from her window. She said, “Do I know you?” And I proceeded to explain that I had accidentally parked my bike there without knowing. She then said, “Someone has been stealing our bicycles. I hope it is not you.” Naturally, I started to get nervous. She didn’t seem very trusting and was very intent on interrogating me. After a few minutes of questions and explanations, she eventually let me go and I rode my bike home…. in the rain, of course.

Later that evening was the lighting of the town Christmas tree. It was pouring down rain, of course, so I put on several layers of clothes and headed up the road to meet Krista. The entire population of Odense had gathered around the 50-foot tall tree and there was no shortage of children. After a speech by the mayor, which we didn’t understand, the whole crowd started counting down in Danish. I actually did participate in the countdown, but only because I knew the numbers one through six from playing the Danish version of Yahtzee. Santa was lifted to the top of the tree by a firefighting ladder and at 6pm, a burst of sparks ignited and the entire town square was lit up. It was beautiful, despite the weather.

Sunday was the second day of the Christmas Market, so I returned with Beth and Krista. Krista let me use her digital SLR camera, so I got in some much needed photography practice while I was there. And, of course, it rained, so I had to put the camera away soon after we got there. On Monday, we had our last culture class. Our professor, Mogens, brought in a special Danish holiday drink called glygg. Glygg is a warm, red wine with spices and raisins. He mixed in a little bit of rum in there too. I probably could have done without the rum. By the end of class, he was slightly tipsy and begging us to drink the liquor so that he wouldn’t be caught dancing with the secretaries. Seriously, it’s not something I would put past this guy. We then attempted to sing Danish Christmas carols

In other news, Patrick informed me that my beloved fish Arnold passed away. I’ll admit, I was pretty upset. Leah had to witness my emotional breakdown while we were working on presentations for the next day. He may be just a fish, but both Patrick and I invested a lot of time and effort into the little guy. He was our fish and I enjoyed his company in my room. I was lucky enough to see him a day before he died, however, since Pat would show him to me on webcam on occasion. I was really hoping he would pull through so I could see him again. But now he gets to rest in peace.

Tomorrow I’m off to Barcelona. Weather will be in the sixties and I’ll get to visit a Mediterranean beach. I’m stoked.