Something old and something new

In theory, traveling around Europe is buses, trains, and flights ahead of other areas of the world in the sense that it is possible to venture out to exotic destinations for next to no cost. However, these travel methods do not always ensure a quick or simple route. In fact, in order to make my trip to Copenhagen even remotely affordable, I embarked on a precarious chain of travel.  Much to my surprise, the only notable event amidst my succession of various forms of transport was a prickly encounter between a crotchety old woman and a group of young traveling musicians. This battle of the ages quickly escalated from a noise dispute to a disagreement over the value, or in the view of the old woman, the worthlessness, of young generations. The contrast between historical perspectives and progressive views made any form of agreement an impossible goal, however, it did make for some solid entertainment.  

The city of Copenhagen not only reconciles this clash between new and old but also the classic and modern, the sober and the completely gone. From above, the city is a uniform landscape of classically cut buildings; long, rectangular and clean. The homogeneity of the cityscape is occasionally punctured with the historical spires and turrets, a reminder of the city’s role as host to the Danish monarchy. Nestled within the upstanding Danish capital is a squatters’ village turned residential collective called “Christiania”. Here, the only the rules are as follows:

1.  No hard drugs (though “herbal remedies” are openly sold)
2. No fighting
3. No guns

Everything else goes.

Between visiting Christiania for optimal people watching, day drinking at Copenhagen’s famed carnival, and just hanging out at the university with other exchange students, I realized that a large part of traveling is just about shifting your frame of reference.

Media theorist Kracauer said that:

“Travel…has no particular destination: its meaning is exhausted in the mere fact of changing locations” (1995:71)

Visiting my friend in Copenhagen, I got to see how my exchange may have been had I gone to Denmark instead of the UK. I got a glimpse of where I might have stayed, the people I could have met, and the town that would have become my home away from home. The similarities between both of our experiences made me wonder whether or not studying abroad is really contingent on location. Instead, maybe it’s just about who you are at the beginning and how the conventional experiences change who you become by the end. The difference between the "old" you and the "new" you that returns to Canada. Like Copenhagen, studying abroad can appear to be standardized, but there are bound to be personal spires that break through the homogeneous experience and make it unique to each student.