Volunteering, Fall Food, and Pooping In The Woods

It has now been four months since I landed in Copenhagen without a clue as to what I was doing in Denmark besides following a hot Dane I'd met on the Camino, home. 

In that time, I have lived on a sailboat, walked the length of the country dressed as a Medieval Pilgrim, learned enough Danish to get arrested, and become engaged.  I have also applied for a greencard to stay, which, contrary to the Danish Immigration website, is taking decidedly longer than 1-3 months to process. 

All of this adds up to the topics for today's post.  Namely, what to do when you can't legally work, live in a summer house in the Field of Thor and are watching the days get shorter by 3 minutes every day. That's 21 minutes less day light every week.  Only counting sunset.  Count sunrise getting later and it's almost 40 minutes less daylight every week.

So volunteering instead of getting a job.  It's good for the soul, bad for the pocketbook, but potentially a lifesaver if you aren't a Facebook addict or have already watched through every episode of Glee, Revenge and Once Upon A Time.  This explains why I am torn, as I have done all of the latter but am totally Facebook Happy.  

Needless to say, I did some research after a conversation with Tobias about how Denmark doesn't seem to be much of a volunteering country...and found out that we were both wrong.  According to THE website on Denmark, 43% of Danes volunteer at least once a year. This is chalked up to the fact that they have a socialist minded society and this involves great social trust, so they are therefore more inclined to give their time to organizations that facilitate a smooth and harmonious society.

Americans on the otherhand, apparently have a 26% percent volunteer rate.  In these stormy election times, many news commentators in the States have made it clear that our current president is suspect for having socialist sympathies...and also for wanting to raise taxes to help build a stronger infrastucture for social services.  Just a random thought, but volunteering might be a good option for unemployed Americans to both help themselves and help their country.  But of course, we're not socialist, so that should make up for the missing 18% percent.

I'm riding on that philosophy as justification for not having found a suitable volunteering position yet, along with the fact that we live in Thorsager, which is so far out in the country that we have a septic tank instead of city sewer. 





This means, that when it becomes full and the Septic Wizards are preparing for their sojourn to the country, we get to poop in the woods.

Our current reality is comprised of such wilderness exoduses and the bathroom slowly starting to smell like a Rest Stop Loo despite my liberal use of cleaning products and air sanitizers.  We just happened to luck out because we can't see any of our neighbors from our house/woods.  Civilized as Denmark is, there are still fantastic opportunities to rough it and then make a nice martini from the contents of your refridgerator.

Or, in this case, to embark on a processional of curries and soups for the fall, which make it more likely than ever that you'll get to experience the joys of a nice Vindaloo and then a quick trot into the trees. 







Fall is obviously a wetter and drearier time of year which stubbornly clings to an optimism that trickles through falling leaves in the form of magical sunlight.

Hence, Tobias and I decided that we should have food which highlights the magical sunlight.  We've spiced our way through Vindaloo, Korma, Tom Kha Gai, Chicken Noodle, Chili, and Vegetable Glory.  We've made it a priority to include rice in every meal. It has been delicious. 








The toilet is coughing and gasping now. Apparently the Toilet Man has shown up like an angel of goodwill, summoned by the power of this blog.  I will have a look outside.

Yes, there he is, with the word Kloakservice emblazoned on the side of his truck.  I I seem to remember a part of the colon called the cloaca from high school biology.  Tobias, via Skype has assured me that it means sewer which I guess makes sense. 

The toilet has now turned into a vaccuum nexus to another world, spewing forth its wroth on unsuspecting spectators.  I now understand why some children are totally freaked out by the thought of getting sucked into drains.  Or their country loo.  The house also smells like something died a looong time ago.

So you see, life in Denmark is both cultured and primal, in hole and out hole, summer and winter.  You should all visit and be as entralled as I have been.