Selvfølgelig Rugbrød

I may never love numbers, just as I may never love licorice. But I love playing with language and shaping colorful sentences. Right now, I’m merely stringing letters together, often losing some unpronounceable part along the way. Yet, little by little, I’m beginning to play the melodies of this language.

I already have favorite words:

Selvfølgelig [of course]—a word that feels grand;

Overmorgen [the day after tomorrow]—so long yet so beautiful;

Telefonnummer [telephone number]—it just rolls off the tongue.

Twice a week, we go to brain gym. We warm up with intensive repetition. Inside us, two forces battle—huske og glemme [to remember and to forget]—a constant struggle between grasping knowledge and letting it slip away.

My latest achievements: I’ve mastered the alphabet—though I still get confused between ø, u, y, and o. I can count to twenty, although odd numbers still trip me up. But I keep trying, and I keep climbing.

I thought I remembered words quite well (unlike grammar and pronunciation). But when I was buying apples, I couldn’t understand why they weren’t listed under “a”—turns out, it’s æble [apple] (with “æ”—yet another tricky letter)!

A kind of ‘mutation’ happens—you start making strange sounds (it’s just Danish), and sometimes they unexpectedly echo in your mind in the teacher’s voice. You repeat them without thinking.

Once, I forgot the word for “et hæfte” [notebook] and said, “mange papir.” [many papers] Marianne praised my creativity. She generously encourages us for every little success, and at the beginning of this journey, that support means everything. Each lesson offers pleasure and a sense of discovery in language learning.

Danish words flutter around like butterflies (sommerfugle—literally “summer birds”), or like the shimmering fish I once saw while diving near the shore. They are there—you watch them, examine them, see them blend with the sand—but you can’t quite grasp them. To catch them, you need speed. But for now, everything moves slowly—like being underwater.

Learning a language is like moving to a new country—it strips you bare, forces you to start over, and resets everything. It is painful, but there is no way forward except through it. At first, I felt constantly tired and unusually hungry. The overload of new information led to severe fatigue. We often had headaches and colds during the first year. But life goes on.