An American Momma in Copenhagen
When I found out that Dear Husband might be going to Copenhagen to work on the videos for Chicago's Olympic bid presentation, I insisted we make it a family trip. We returned from Copenhagen, Denmark this week after a thirteen day visit.
Well, we didn't get the Olympics, despite Randy's fantastic work (at least to my proud eyes.) But this post isn't going to be Monday morning quarterbacking about how great/tragic it is that Chicago dodged a bullet/lost the bid.
While I was explored the city with my two daughters, I experienced a bit of culture shock. Perhaps the word "shock" may be too harsh a work in a land of soft skies and kindly Danes - perhaps I should call my reaction to the Danish parenting attitudes a cultural surprise.
I won't claim to have taken the pulse of a country in a week, but as I bumbled through Copenhagen's strange but beautiful cityscape, I did notice very different expectations and customs from what I see in the midwestern United States. The kind of parenting I encountered was mostly that of relaxed attitudes, tolerance and patience. Parenting in the age of anxiety? Not so much in Northern Europe.
I'll give you some examples from the days I spent with my girls in Copenhagen, the island-nation's capital city of 1.8 million. My husband was working long hours for the first four days after our arrival so I rented a bike and a kid trailer to tool around the city.
Biking is huge in this city. Nearly all streets have designated bike lanes with curbs on both sides that separate the stream of cyclists from car traffic and from the sidewalks. You'll see all sorts of bikers and all sorts of biking activity on the roads - eating, drinking from straws in bottles, smoking, talking on cell phones, bikers carrying packages with one hand, waving to friends, bikers holding hands. I even saw a very pregnant woman riding by, holding her belly with one hand. She wore a helmet. Few other adults do.
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