Deja Vu

It's not handball in Denmark if I don't hit my head hard enough during a game to lose conciousness the game ends! Mom, I'm okay. Dad, you should have seen the other girl. Everyone else, come on, you had to have expected it....

I'm baaaaa-aaack

Back to Bjerringbro




After a stay in the US that lasted, to the day, 2 months longer than originally expected, I am finally back in Denmark.

I have to admit, this has been one of the most entertaining solo trips I’ve ever made. After my 10 ½ hour flight from LAX to London, an overnight trek, I arrived on March 14. This realization, of course, came about the same time I was trying to grab something to eat and the terminal and realized that ordering ‘pie’ would get me meat and potatoes in a crust, not the creamy deliciousness I sought. However, it was March 14. 3/14. 3.14. The world wanted me to have pie in London, and it was freaking delicious. Before my pie pilgrimage, however, I had been approached in LAX by someone who lacked an accent to the point that I probably would have doubted him if he said he was from California (He was, I did). After about 30 seconds of awkward eye contact and checking my fly (I was wearing sweatpants, making things THAT much more awkward) the man looked at the USA Team Handball jacket I was wearing and points at the logo and asked “is that handball?” I kind of stuttered a yes, because yeah – I was THAT surprised that someone had known what handball was, and recognized it from a logo. He then gave me a weird “why-can’t-you-pronounce-the-word-yes” look and left, but still, good story.

I’m extremely excited to get back into the swing of things around Bjerringbro and Tindbaek, and I just can’t wait to start playing handball again 6 days a week. I swear, I suffered from such bad handball withdrawals in my first few weeks home that I would wake up early just to watch the European Championship games live. Side note on European Championships - the brother of a girl we play with at BFH substituted a Danish National team player on the roster after an early tournament injury, and finished out the tournament quite well.

After my expedition from Los Angeles, I got to Neder Kjaershold, where I will be staying for a week with my host sister, Stine, while the rest of the family is on a ski vacation in Austria. Too bad for them, its 20 degrees Celsius in Austria (Americans, that’s warm.) The estate we’re living on is gorgeous, first built around 1558, surrounded by around 500 wine-grape plants. It includes a Christmas shop run by the Risgaard family, a winery, a hall available to rent for parties, weddings, etc, and a garage housing the only Aston Martin in Denmark. Hey, wipe the drool off your face before you continue reading.

I am thrilled that other players have returned to Denmark, because I truly think that it is one of the best places to learn to play handball. With two American guys out at the Idrætshøjskolen in Aarhus, and Sophie Fasold waiting for me in Bjerringbro , in addition to those of us who were in Bjerringbro before Christmas and Julia Taylor at the Idrætshøjskolen, I can’t wait to see what America has in store for the handball world.

More to come, but first, for those of you who don’t think I’m really all that funny, are on the go constantly, or just don’t have the time to check back for new posts all the time, I will also be using twitter this time around. You can follow me as @mollywatkins and my 120 word daily updates will be sent straight to your phone. I mean, c’mon, how annoying can I get in 120 words?

Ørum, 15. BFH, 14

 Today we played what is, without a doubt, the best game BFH's second team has played this season. Despite having barely enough players to field a team and our regular coach being in Egypt, we managed a devestating 15-14 loss to Ørum, the number one team in our division.
 After what could only be described as an interesting first encounter acting as captain for my team with a referee who did not speak English, our game began.
 We knew the game would be interesting to start with, as due to injuries and some Americans already having taken off back to the states, we were left with a total of 7 players - just enough to field a team. Knowing this, none of us expected much to come out of this game, but somehow the idea of this being the last game with an American-Danish combo team lit a fire under us.
 We started out behind by 3, and the game seemed as if it would play out exactly as we imagined - long. However, a few quick shots put us behind by one, and then up by 2. Half time put us up by 9-10.
 After half time, things started gettng a little more difficult. I moved from right back to left back, and then into circle runner. In the circle, I was unable to draw a 7-meter penalty or 2-minute suspension-despite the obvious want my defender had for a piggy back ride. At one point, we were forced to play with only 4 players because of a 2-minute suspension and an injury. The game ended with me finally sinking a penalty shot, but unable to bring us up one more for the tie.
 This game felt more like a win than any others, though. Our defense was the tightest it has been through the entire season, and we moved the ball extremely well. We would not have been nearly as successful, though, if it had not been for our goalie- Camilla Holm Pedersen. She's only 13, brought up from the younger team, and she had close to 10 one-on-nobody blocks, a 7-meter save, and countless other blocks. Did I mention she's only 13? Seriously-remember that name.
 Speaking of remembering names, Jennie Bergsma and I were lucky enough to wrangle up some tickets to go watch the EHF Women's European Handball Championship in Aalborg with Randers Elite Sportscollege, a school that two girls from BFH attend. We had amazing seats, directly behind the goal. I know I've said it before, but the energy in the Aalborg Gigantum was AMAZING. Despite not playing in top form, Denmark defeated Spain in what was, without a doubt, the best sporting event I have EVER been to..

It's beginning to look A LOT like Christmas..

If you're like me, then you probably scoff when the local Macy's subtlely starts putting up Christmas (excuse me, Holiday) decorations the week before Thanksgiving while silently counting down the days until December 25th. In Denmark, however, I've found that you scoff when a stores decorations aren't in full swing by November 20th. Downtown Bjerringbro has a Christmas tree wrapped around every light post, and giant balls of lights strung up between wreaths hanging over the street. (Don't worry, pictures to come) All of this is without even mentioning the amount of snow that covers EVERYTHING, or the Danish & American christmas carols playing where ever you go.

At our school, Bjerringbro Gymnasium, we (along with the entire school) took off the hour before lunch to participate in Christmas arts & crafts, eat æbleskivvers, pebernødders, and sing Christmas carols. A girl from our club, who saved us from our awkward American walk around the cafeteria/auditorium/main area, was extremely suprised when we told her that this would never happen in a US school. She explained to us that every class in Denmark does this, and until 9th grade, you take off the full day to have classroom 'hygge.' When we brought up that the school can't even allow Christmas carols to be played because of seperation of church and state, she made the point that in Denmark, Christmas isn't just a holiday, but a part of the culture. After that, we shut up and enjoyed the chance to meet some new people, eat, and pretty much fail at making paper stars.



These took us about the entire hour..

Christmas hasn't just invaded stores and schools, either. At home, I'm responsible for not one, not two, but THREE different 'julekalender's or Advent Calendars. These aren't your average Advent Calendars, either. One is the typical US Advent Calendar with small square chocolates mesauring roughly 1/2 inch square, one that typical US Advent Calendar, but on steroids. It's about 16 inches high, and 2 inches wide, and made by 'Tomsen' chocolate-meaning that I get an epic mini european chocolate bar every day. Example: Today, I got a full sized chocolate frog filled with caramel. My final julekalender is less like an Advent Calendar, and more like a scratch and win lottery ticket. A giant scratch and win lottery ticket. Pretty much, for every day until December 24th (Did I mention Danes celebrate Christmas the 24th?) there is a little scratch off box, where you hope to uncover a little Christmas tree. Uncover 9 of them-10,000 Dkr. Uncover 4-1,000 Dkr. etc, etc, etc. Pretty much, they are like Advent Calendars for Grown-ups.

It's so weird to think that in less than 2 weeks, I'll be headed back to the states. (Pending some visa issues, I may be coming back in January :) ) What seemed so weird when we first arrived here now seems normal(Tucking our sweatpants into our socks, walking or riding bikes everywhere, the Danish language, just to name a few.) Bjerringbro has been so good to us, and I cannot explain how at home we all feel here. Not only has the club opened it's arms to us, as well as the families from our team and people from the school, but the community in general has welcomed us. We've been blessed to have families open up not only their homes, but their lives and their schedules. Both Amber Turner & I have had times when we needed to go to a doctor (Her with swimmers ear, which I am still dumbfounded as to how she managed that, and myself with my knee injury) and our host mothers have set up appointments for us to be seen. They've fed us, housed us, done our (my) laundry, driven us around, and treated us like family. We've had so many adventures here, so many good times, so many experiences, and I know I'm not alone when I say thank you so much to the Bjerringbro community, to BFH, and Bjerringbro Gymnasium, for this trip has truly been life changing. I know that personally, going 'home' is starting to feel a lot more like leaving it.

Handball-it's not for wimps.

Today had been a beautiful day in Bjerringbro. Temperatures of nearly 8 degrees, and some weird shiny thing in the sky that Danes call 'The Sun.' It rarely appears in Denmark, but on the off chance this 'Sun' decides to show itself, it is only to cast a deceiving glow across frigid land.

But enough about the weather, let's get to the good stuff. Every Tuesday and Thursday we have "college' training, seperate from training with our respective teams, to balance out our practice schedules. These practices consist of 1 hour of physical training (cross-training using gymnastics, CrossFit, and body weight excercises on Tuesdays, traditional weight training on Thursdays) and 1 hour of personal handball skills including, but not limited to one-on-one moves; shooting; footwork; and personal defensive skills. These practices also give us U-16 and U-18 players to shoot on US National Team goalie Natascha King. This last Thursday focused quite a lot on shooting drills, and during the last five minutes of practice it was decided that the girls would practice penalty shots. Personally, I think I've got a pretty good shot-somewhere close to 10 years of water polo will do that for you. I love shooting around, over, and under defenders, as well using one-on-one moves to blow past them, but if you give me a big open goal with a goalie in front of it..we've got a problem. Handball is not a sport that you can spend hours an hours perfecting your shot to the top right corner, and expect the ball to go in when you shoot that corner in a game. (I learned that with the first practice penalty shot I took.) Handball, as I've mentioned before, is a game of opportunities, and therefore you must take the shot based on the opportunity you are given-not the shot you've practiced. Anyways, we lined up for penalty shots, and despite the fact that-had my ball continued- it would have been perfectly in the top right corner of the goal, but Natascha's hand was in the way. Bummer. We lined up for shots again, and this time I decided to pull out the big guns. Thanks to stickum (harpiks), I've figured a nasty way to move the ball in which my hand goes one way and sends the ball, with brutal force, in the opposite direction. It's useful when passing (to mess with a defender, especially in 5-1 defense) or shooting on a goalie (hand goes right-goalie goes right, ball goes left.) I lined up to take the shot and let'er rip. My hand went right, and the ball went left-unfortunately, so did Natascha. This time, however, her hand was not in the way-it was her face. Again, a picture is worth a thousand words...

I personally believe this photo does my damage no justice-she's got two black eyes and something we'll describe as a partially broken nose. Natascha refuses to take a picture with me, so a small amount of Facebook creeping (with her permission) will have to suffice. I'm torn between feeling bad for the amount of pain and inconvinience I caused Natascha, and, well, pride. I mean, c'mon, that ball had to have been going pretty damn fast.. I fully recant my previous statement to goalies.

Weather Update

I don't have a clever way of putting this, but for all you Californians-rain when the temperature is below freezing does NOT always mean snow. There is a point between rain and snow, which is pretty much shaved ice falling from the sky. I'm not a meteorologist, but my best guess is that somewhere over Denmark, someone is trying to make a snowcone in an open air biplane, and failing miserably.
Current temperatue: 2 degrees celsius, 1 degree celsius with windchill
Yesterdays temperature: 0 degrees celsius most of the day, -5 degrees celsius with windchill.

Rødgrød med flød revenge

If you ever happen to stumble across a Danish person, chances are that, sometime in conversation, they WILL ask you to say Rødgrød med Flød. Let me tell you now, it is impossible to say. I personally believe that it's all a giant conspiracy against non-Danish speaking people, because every time someone new says it, they sound COMPLETELY different than the last Dane who brought it up.

However, I have come up with the perfect anti-Rødgrød med Flød weapon: Hippopotamus.
That's right, Danish people lack the ability to say hippopotamus. Usually, the first response is "What?" followed by "ep-po-tep-po?" then "hap-po-nap-po-nas" ending with a cacophany of flustered attempts before you finally break it down for them -Hip-po-pot-oh-mus.
Don't worry, they still don't get it after that.