Learn Me Some

Teachers at Copenhagen University leave a much deeper impression on me than any of the professors I've had in Madison.

Tuesdays I'm in my Sociolinguistics class with thin old Danish man and an obese American woman who constantly reminds the class that she speak three languages fluently. The man speaks frankly, and occasionally says things that would get people whispering if he were to lecture in the politically correct States of America. Last week he was explaining to the class the western world's view of Japan. The description he gave of the Japanese as being "meek, servile, and submissive" was fairly benign. At the end of it he jokingly said "I'd like to have one for a slave." Good thing she can't speak English.

The fat woman sits in class when she lectures, except when something needs pointing out. She often tries to interject with information during the man, Steen's, lectures. He usually ignores her when she does this, even though he does the same to her, except maybe louder.

Wednesday's I have an Australian expatriot who leads a class on a World War I battle worthy of countless pages of scholarly analysis and no mention in any of my high school history classes. I like him enough; he responds to the things I say and even appropriates them for use in class discussion. he does this for most students actually, all except a couple. There's a grey-haired Danish man who used crutches to walk. He asks questions the professor, Stuart, says he'll get to later in the class. The other guy who seems to get the short end of the social stick is a middle-aged Brit. His answers are often too noncommittal or too softly spoken for Stuart's taste. Stuart frequently interrupts, "Well, yes don't we already know that? The class can't hear you when you look down and mumble." He's got the charm and the bite of a Mel Gibson character.

The lecturer is different every class in my Thursday Danish culture course. Last time it was a plump Danish woman who gave a presentation on vikings. Did you that Thursday is for Thor's Day? Neither did I! After the fifteen minute break in the middle of class, the teacher began making snorting noises in between her sentences. She passed it off as if nothing was awry, and the rest of the people in the lecture hall were acting as if it was as normal as itching your nose. I thought she was merely clearing her sinuses, but the loud full-throated bellowing lasted until the end of the two-hour class.