My Danish Christmas
By María Candela Suárez, 2nd year MA student in Design for Play specialising in Industrial Design
Wednesday, December 23rd, 10:45 AM, Design School Kolding.
The school is on holiday, but the entrance next to the canteen will remain open until noon. Inside, Mette Frandsen (event manager, ed.) navigates a sea of boxes and bags that invade the space. Mette finalises details for what will happen minutes later. A journalist from DR and another from JydskeVestkysten are there to report on the event.
But, before knowing what happened there, let's put ourselves in context. A pandemic has swept over the world. And, after almost a year, it is still not under control. Consequently (one among thousands), in this small Danish city known as the "Capital of Design", dozens of foreign students from all continents have been unable to return to their countries for Christmas. They are young people who, as happens every year, travelled thousands of kilometres to study at Design School Kolding. Well yes, Design, in general, has that force to make you cross the world if you are one of its lovers. In particular, Design School Kolding is an irresistible pilgrimage centre where you want to go and stay, at least a couple of years, to learn how to make your passion become your profession.
But let's go back to the international students in Kolding. For most of them, this is their first Christmas away from home and family in their lives. I know the mixed feelings they have in these circumstances because I was once their age. But my last Christmas with my family in Argentina was in 2000, which has given me enough time to create immunity to deal with physical distance (and build some virtual bridges to reduce emotional distance - by the way, very useful in times of pandemic).
No matter what the case was, on December 23 at 11 AM, we all entered the "Danish Christmas mood" (and stayed in it for several days) as soon as we walked through the door next to the canteen. In there, Mette and the sea of "Christmas in a box" (an initiative of the school with Chef Christoffer and the DSR team's aid) were waiting for us.
"Christmas in a box" immersed us in a true “Boot Camp of Danish Christmas cooking and traditions”. This is how I learned, for instance, that roast duck with boiled and caramelised potatoes is one of the traditional meals on Christmas' Eve in Denmark. After the main dish comes the risalamande, a typical dessert resembling Argentine rice pudding, accompanied by a cherry sauce. Those who know me well know that I am addicted to perfectionism, so before embarking on any adventure, I always feel that I have to take a course or read a book, at the very least, to be up to the challenge. Those who know me even a little better know that the kitchen is not my natural ecosystem, and when cooking, I am like a fish out of water. So, out of respect for the duck, the risalamande and the Danes in general, on the morning of December 24, I decided that I needed more time, theory and hours of cooking before venturing out with the complete pack of the "Christmas in a box” ingredients...
The beauty of living in Denmark is that, by the magic of Hygge, there is always a sort of Christmas spirit in the air, and that gives me more time until I feel capable of preparing my Christmas menu. Yes! Garlands of lights and candles, many candles, are a vital part of the cosy scene in which the Danes live, and with which I have immediately fallen in love. Therefore, there will be no lack of opportunity for the duck and me to live together with the culinary adventure that we have pending. I must confess that delaying the dish's preparation is also a strategy so that my "Christmas in a box" is not over yet. I did not exaggerate my feeling when commenting on December 23 that the school's gesture with international students for Christmas 2020 was like receiving a hug full of affection. And I want to extend that hug for as long as possible. I need it, especially in this time of a pandemic.
However, on Christmas Eve, I enjoyed the risalamande with my friends. Tradition in Denmark says that you have to hide a whole almond, and whoever finds it in their portion receives a gift. (This tradition seems fairer than the Roscón de Reyes' Iberian tradition: in this one a bean is hidden, and whoever finds it pays for the roscón). The "Christmas in a box" included even that small detail, so we did not lack either the almond or the gift that, of course, was a LEGO box!
This was not my first Christmas in Denmark, but my second. But in my memory, it will always be the Christmas when Design School Kolding, which I consider my second home, opened its doors to celebrate Christmas with me.
