How 'bout anther Sondy tale? SPEAKING DANISH By Wilton Strickland
For the first few days I was at Sondrestrom Air Base, Greenland in February, 1978, occasionally, whenever I would ask a Danish contractor engineer or workman a question about the progress of a particular project or work, he would turn to another Dane and start discussing it in Danish while I stood silently nearby. I began to get a bit impatient with such as this and would, after a couple of minutes, break into their conversation with, "Please, pardon me, so what's the answer?" A couple of times they even acted surprised that I was still there. After a few days of this, I went to the base library and checked out a Danish-English text book and some Danish-English instruction tapes and started studying hard every night. I've always found learning foreign languages easy and enjoyable, and so was this.
After several nights of intense study, I walked into the Danish engineers' office area one morning and greeted them very nonchalantly with, "Godmorgen; hvordan har du det?" (Good morning, how are you?) The Danish secretary immediately replied without any pause, "Jai har de godt, og du? (I'm doing very well, and you?) I quickly replied, "Jai har de godt, tak." (I'm doing very well, thank you.) Meanwhile a couple of the Danish engineers nearby had overheard us and chimed in with, "Uh-oh, we're in trouble now! He's speaking Danish!"
My Danish studies progressed rapidly with the help and interest of all the Danes with whom I had close contact. They said that I was the only American they had met who showed any interest in their native language. Several of them told me that I spoke Danish with a Norwegian accent. 'Don't know how I got that, unless the lady on the instructional tape was Norwegian.
One morning, I asked the chief Dane, "Vil du hjaelpe mig med ordet fotografiaparat?" (Will you help me with the word fotografiaparat?) He replied, "Just say, 'Kodak' or 'kamera;' fotografiaparat is old fashioned; nobody says that any more."
I learned so fast and enjoyed it so well that I was soon able to discuss some aspects of our projects in Danish, all of us being careful not to let it be detrimental to the project, of course. Occasionally, when I'd get stuck understanding a word they had used and begin to beg them to just tell me that word in English, they'd admonish me with, "You said you wanted to learn Danish. 'Best way to do it is to be forced to use it." I'd reply, "Yes, I know, but I'm getting a headache; please, just tell me in English, so we can move on." Then, they'd tell me in English, and I would most times exclaim, Oh, cefurlig! (Certainly!) We'd have a good laugh and move along. We quickly developed a lot of respect for each other.
During the first two weeks of December, on a trip to Denmark, I went out walking one evening and came upon a beautiful Christmas display in the, corner windows of a large, up-scale department store in downtown Copenhagen. The display featured Santa's workshop. I've always thought that a German-speaking Santa would seem most appropriate. This Santa (Jule Man, in Danish) and the elves were speaking and singing in Danish, of course, which sounded close enough to German to make it sound very authentic. I was quite enthralled with the display. Elves were busy at work building toys and singing Disney's "Whistle While You Work," while a little train traveled from work station to work station delivering toys and parts. While standing watching and listening in awe, a plump, middle-age Danish lady walked up to me, a shopping bag in each hand, and made some remark about the display. Not understanding her, I replied, "Jai forstor du ikki; jai er Amerikaner." (I don't understand you; I'm an American.) She viewed me with astonishment, put one of the shopping bags down in order to wave me aside more expressively with the free hand and proceeded with more Danish, including "Du er ikki Amerkaner! Du er Danske!" (You are not an American! You are Danish!) Again, I said, "Cefurlig; Jai forstor du ikki; Jai er Amerikaner. Jai taller kun lit Danske." (Really; I don't understand you; I'm an American. I speak only a little bit of Danish.) Again, she began to admonish me for trying to impersonate an American and that I was just a crazy Dane or had had too much to drink, or something to that effect - I didn't understand all of it. I then realized I had been telling her in pretty good Danish that I don't speak Danish and could not understand her. I turned facing her with my hands and arms spread slightly out to each side as if pleading and said, "Really, I'm an American; I don't understand you; I'm really an American, and I speak only a little Danish." She turned away, and dismissed me with a final wave of her free hand, picked up her bag and went waddling off mumbling something about a "crazy American or a crazy Dane - who cares? No difference - all the same."
On the day before my final departure from Sondrestrom on 8 Feb, 1979, the Danish contract engineers held a little going-away party for me in their office area. After the presentation of simple but much-appreciated gifts, their chief and I gave short speeches of appreciation and farewell. I thanked them sincerely for their kindness, industriousness, strong work ethic, integrity, understanding and patience while tutoring me in Danish and added. "You have helped me greatly to quickly make this my home, and in many respects, I hate to leave. You know I've been extremely busy, but you've made it really easy for me. I've been able to depend on your outstanding support to meet certain deadlines and special requirements. You've never failed to impress me with your performance. I'll miss you greatly, but I've missed my wife and children more - it's time to get back to them. You have made this the best assignment I've had in twenty years on active duty, though, other than having to be away from my family. It has, indeed, been a pleasure working with you. The American people are extremely lucky and fortunate to have the Danish people as our allies. I'm very proud to know you and to have served with you. For the rest of my life, I'll enjoy telling my fellow Americans what good, kind people you are. By the way, you know, don't you, that I finally figured out what you were saying to each other those first few days after I arrived a year ago - when I'd ask a question and you would turn to each other and discuss it in Danish before answering." The chief Dane asked, "Oh? What were we saying?" I replied, "You were saying, 'What'll we tell the stupid American?'" We parted with good hearty laughs, good firm hand shakes and some unabashed hugs all around.
Wilton _______________________________________ http://www.okiebenz.com For new and used parts go to www.okiebenz.com To search list archives http://www.okiebenz.com/archive/ To Unsubscribe or change delivery options go to: http://mail.okiebenz.com/mailman/listinfo/mercedes_okiebenz.com
