Scandinavian summer: livin’ in a castle is easy


On the way to Copenhagen there was that kid, who spoke three languages. Kids are not really my thing, my thing is respect for those who can speak three languages, while still wearing a tutu.

“I know it’s wrong, but I kinda like global warming” – says a post somewhere near a canal. Well put, the post from Norden country, well put. On the 15th, we sit down on a bench in Stockholm, eat a sandwich and lightheartedly bitch about past and present, wondering about the future.

I found hundred crowns, a cemetery and some body scrub. That was the most perfect cemetary I ever seen, super personal, intimately touching. A little sculpture of Buda at the grave of a little boy. A picture of a couple at some guys tomb. A teddy bear at some gravestone, and some candy for a mother. This is really caring  – and also, there were peaceful bunnies, just hoping around. Seriously, Stockholm?:)

Yesterday we sat on the same bench without saying much, and the only thing spinning in the head was the “What goes around comes around” bit. What goes around what goes around. Everything goes around, it’s a circle of life, don’t you see it.

We were definitely never boring.

Yesterday on the bench I was still amazed, how group of 24 people can start to be important to me, after 7 days, after numerous talks, after numerous wonders and work together. How come at some point, on my way to Lithuanian “education”, I forgot that collaboration is the key to interest? Different fields, different backgrounds, different experiences, but put everyone in a castle a bit further from Roskilde, and you’ll get a training of your life.

Did I say that we lived in a castle near the lake, which is a hojschole, which is the coolest educational concept I come around so far? Well it fucking is – somewhat boarding school for collaborative learning in different fields, with teachers who share a beer (and some rakija, and some liquor, and some more beer) with you in the evening on the balcony.

I was never a “group person”, I love my space, my space is my castle. But in this castle, I was in the group and I loved it. Just say the thing and we will do it. Hitchhike to eco village, go dumpster diving, pretend to be pigs. Go to Egyptian trio gig and to Palestinian circus. Stay late in the most famous pub in the area, listening to the Doors and drinking beer, which would be an insult in Lithuania. Trying to learn, how to say “I love you” in Italian sign language. Doing Balint groups on any possible question, from “Should i shower” to “What should I do with my life”. Building national parks for ants (“I just got a call from National Agency, they said that tax payers money are spent well”). Spending evening in a glass blowing lab in old factory, talking about upcoming glass-blowing/yoga conference with a minister, called Greg. There was no “why”, there was no “not”, there was only “why not”.

In Copenhagen, we play a game of “768 ways to get to the train station”. After a while, I start being pissed looking at tourists – usually that means, that me and the town made a connection.

On Saturday I go to the Jazz house, where ICEAGE, COMMUNIONS and FEMMINIELLI played. The legend will say that the first venue I visited in CPH is Jazzhouse, and that is the important thing to know, because there definitely will be more. I get why ICEAGE is kind of cult band there – which I know from stalking people. I get the vibe of Morrison from the vocals, but that is all there was? COMMUNIONS were the happy punk, trying to send in some suicidal aggression, but for sure the only thing I truly cared was how the vocalist rock Michael Pitts look. Oh those Danish boys. Copenhagen is full of Lynchian-aryan hairdo, tallness and dreamy blue eyes. Gosh, if you saw one of them, you have seen them all. But that does not mean you can take your eyes of them.

The highlight of the gig definitely was FEMMINIELLI with his intoxicating raw sensuality. If he looks at you, you are done for life, and you wanna be his puta, as he shouts something in Spanish and sweats through his leather jacket.

Later on, I go to check out another hojschole, and the first thing I see is shirtless Latino boy playing football, and the first smell I get is weed. Education is all you need, we go through editing labs for movies, and talk with people who have an opinion about “Al Jazeera”, parallelly discussing strategies for volunteer management and developing new projects.

I will fit in here just fine.


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