I made it!

You can stop pressing the refresh button because, boys and girls, I've made it to Denmark. I am writing now from one of the computer labs in the DIS building in downtown Copenhagen. This morning we had a lovely introduction ceremony in the Hall of Ceremonies in the main building of the University of Copenhagen, which was built 840 years ago. (300 years before America was ''discovered,'' DIS president, Anders Urkhov made sure to note.) I'll be on a bus and walking tour of the city this afternoon. Tonight I think I'll explore the neighborhood near our housing complex with some of the girls who live on my floor. Traveling by bus and train seems pretty straightfoward. I've even mastered the six minute walk to the station, I think. Maybe my sense of direction will get some sense knocked into it this semester. I'll mostly be using public transportation because its so reliable here, and also because everyone else travels by bike. Unless riding around the city was a lot like making slow circles in the parking lot of the office park on Wells Avenue and its socially acceptable to use training wheels for the first few weeks, I think the S Train and Converse will have to take me where I need to go.

61 other DIS students live on the same floor of my building, Tasingade, which inexplicably seems to be pronounced with a sort of ''L'' sound at the end. Everyone has been extremely friendly, albeit a little sleepy, so far. We have three Danish RAs who took us for falafel last night. I hope I'll get to meet some more people when we go out tonight. My room is remarkably sleek and clean, by the way. Scandinavian design seems to characterize even the smallest indoor spaces. Before I left, my mom recommended that I keep my own furnishings simple. ''Just draw some stuff and stick it on the walls. Then you won't feel so bad about throwing it away.'' And then, after a quiet moment of consideration, ''You could do them on brown grocery bags. You might as well be avant garde about it.''

I'm off now to get some lunch and try to find a place where I can get a photo taken for a bus pass. It seems that about three quarters of people speak serviceable English here. Danish still sounds to me a little like what I imagine someone with a Austrian accent might mumble into their pillow in the middle of the night. Which is a casual way of saying that I have a new Austrian boyfriend. Just kidding.