You really haven’t lived until you’ve been to a Danish Julefrokost. On the weekend I was fortunate enough to attend one. Although I must say, this was the first time I actually got drunk before the dinner.

 

I’ve mentioned before that the Danes get incredibly excited about Christmas. Then again, who wouldn’t? Well, terrorists maybe, but a country that celebrates the start of the season with a Tuborg sponsored holiday has to rank quite high up on the list of “baddest countries ever“. Christmas in Denmark then has gotten me truly excited about the holiday for the first time since “socks” surpassed “toy dinosaurs” for me as the most commonly occurring present under the tree.

 

Unlike many other Erasmus students I will not be going home for Christmas as I’m trying to maximize the little time I have left here. Instead, I have decided to try something completely different this year.

 

No, not that completely different.

 

It turns out that Christiania will once again host a Christmas dinner for the homeless and the lonely and I am dead set on celebrating the holiday there for as we all know, should Santa drop by at Christiania, neither he or his beloved reindeer will be in a condition to leave before the New Year’s.

 

Santa or not, it's still a DUI.

 

I have no idea as to what the “celebrations” in Christiania are going to look like. When I mention this plan to the Danes they usually look at me as if I had falled on my head one time too many, before forcing their expression to a worried smile. Depending on how sad the Christiania Christmas dinners really are, my plan to spend the holiday there is either the greatest idea I’ve ever had, or the worst. According to official sources though, Christiania Christmas dinners rank somewhere between “Bambi” and “Keanu Reevesacting career” on the international sadness scale.

 

OK, maybe not that sad.

 

But Christmas isn’t only about eating (with) the homeless. It’s also about playing Bingo. Apparently. So it came to be that on Sunday we headed to Mellemrummet for a round or two of bingo. The problem? None of us really knew how to play the game.

 

Enthusiasm however, was high.

 

Mellemrummet itself is a cozy cafe on Ravnsborggade that also functions as a laundromat because hey, why not. While you’re waiting for your laundry you can have a cup of coffee while enjoying historical photos of graphic violence made fun with the clever use of a banana:

 

"Ha ha just kidding, I love commies. Here, take this banana."

 

 

Not long into the game I managed to get not one, but two winning tickets, only to have the host explain to me that I had cheated. Granted, I did so unwittingly, but ignorance never excuses a crime. The shampoo and the conditioner then, for which I had so valiantly fought, were promptly confiscated.

 

As our frustrations neared critical mass due to our inability to understand Danish instructions, I finally brought up the courage, walked to the bar and did something incredibly stupid – I asked the staff to explain me the rules of bingo.

 

Understandably, they thought I was mentally challenged and proceeded to explain me the rules. They did so slowly, in the simplest possible words and with no shortage of sarcasm – “cross out the numbers and yell “bingo!” when the card is full”. Utterly perplexed, I returned to the table only to discover I had in fact been the only one in my group who didn’t grasp the subtle art of playing bingo. Unwilling to accept that fact, I returned to the bar for the second time and again asked the staff to elaborate on the rules of the game. They did.

 

Now, at this point, you would think I had embarrassed myself enough for one day. And you’d be wrong. In a stubborn effort to destroy what little reputation I had left, I got up the third time and asked the other players to carefully explain to me the rules one more time. And again, they did, but not before handing me a mouth guard, some adult diapers and a lollipop. Accompanied by judgmental gazes I sat down and shut my mouth for good. Well… at least I should have. I won’t say how the day ended, but it included a heavy dose of horse tranquillizers and an overnight stay in a windowless room.

 

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