En, To, Tre

We will always remember how Marianne takes a step to demonstrate the rhythm and dynamics of the language. She shows us, in simple terms, how to make each sound: for instance, the sound in otte [eight] comes from the lower abdomen, while “ng” resonates through the nose. She explains how to pronounce the soft “D” sounds like a lazily mushy “L” (but honestly, it’s the weirdest sound ever). She teaches us when to stretch a sound like an accordion “tyve” [twenty] and when to cut it short, like with scissors (glottal stop).

Then comes dictation—“diktat” in Danish. Our “dictator” is Marianne. She dictates numbers, and I constantly make mistakes, especially with long ones—thousands, and, horror of horrors, millions!

Mistakes are part of learning. Once, I got 8 out of 10 answers wrong; another time, I got 4. Then I forgot how to say “four” and said “forty” instead! At one point, struggling with numbers in the thousands and millions, I admitted in defeat: Jeg har en million fejl! [I have a million mistakes!]

Every Saturday, I try to practice Danish at Store Torv. Kirsten, the flower and vegetable seller, speaks only Danish—a secret agent from our school, perhaps?

At the market, it’s all cash—no electronic fuss, just real produce and real money. Three-digit numbers confuse me, so I just hand over a bunch of coins. I trust her as my “Saturday friend.” She gives me an extra crispy apple or a big potato from the trunk of her white Duster. I say “thank you” in Danish and give her a candy.

Once, I told her that I was 69 instead of 39. Because 60 [tres] sounds more like 30 [tredive]…well, it doesn’t sound like thirty at all! And then there’s the reverse order of numbers. 39 is said as “nine and thirty.”

She laughed, grabbed a marker, and wrote the number on a piece of cardboard. That’s how I practice numbers—with a smile!