Copenhagen - Part 1

Monday- February 5, 2007

Sometimes I wonder what I'm thinking when I schedule trips back to back. I returned from Washington, DC on Sunday afternoon around 4pm. I got some dinner, came home, and packed (while washing my clothes from DC) for Copenhagen. At least I had the foresight to arrange what I needed in piles before I left for DC.

I managed to get to bed about 1am, and I slept fine until 7:30am when I got up with my alarm, showered, and finished packing. The taxi I ordered came 5 minutes early, and I was off. The driver was Ethiopian, so when he discovered I'd been to Ethiopia, we talked about that. He's apparently from the same area that the current Prime Minister of Ethiopia is from, which is north of Dessie, where I was located.

I forgot to stop by the post office in Hartsfield to get my statement for the credit card company notarized regarding the unauthorized use I had discovered. I didn't think it was a big deal, since I would have 5 hours to kill in Dulles. Little did I know, Dulles was going to be a nightmare.

First, United wouldn't assign me a seat on the plane from DC to Copenhagen when I checked in at Hartsfield. The agent told me that wasn't unusual, and that I needed to check in with United in DC. However, when I got there, the flight board showed no flight to Copenhagen. I was in a domestic terminal, so it only showed domestic flights. I asked for help, and was met with suspicion. Upon showing my ticket and explaining myself, I was routed to the help desk of United. However, this help desk was only for domestic flights, and they sent me to yet another help desk for international flights. When I got there, I was informed that while this was a codeshare flight for United, the flight was operated by Scandinavian Airlines (shorthand SK) and I needed to leave the secured area and go to their flight desk.

I did this after I also discovered that there was a bank branch in the unsecured area. I went to Chevy Chase bank and had my documents notarized. I then looked for a mailbox. I asked a policeman where one might be, and I was told that all post office boxes were removed from Dulles after 9/11. Here I was with three envelopes, addressed and stamped and no where to put them. The credit card thing was due in 5 business days, so what was I to do?

I was directed toward a box that was for mailing "forbidden items" such as toenail scissors back to yourself rather than have them confiscated. This was not an actual post office service, but was instead outsourced to some nebulous company that overcharged for its services. Upon realizing they wanted over $10 for EACH piece of mail, the only thing I could think to do was mail everything in a priority mail envelope to Daniel, who is house/dog sitting for me. That was still $13, but it was better than spending over $30 for three mailers that should only be $0.39 each!

I finally got my ticket (after discovering that SK translated to SAS in the terminal) and relaxed with a bit of lunch. The flight to Copenhagen was not full, thankfully. I truly hate cattle car class, especially when you are talking about an 8 hour flight. If the higher ups in government would also sit in cattle car class when they fly, I would buy the notion that it's about saving taxpayer money. But I can guarantee you that Julie Gerberding (or any center director for that matter) does NOT sit in cattle car class no matter how short the flight.

The food was pretty good, and while we had individual entertainment, we weren't able to start and stop movies at our leisure like on South African Airlines. It was OK, though. I watched several movies, ate the snacks they brought us, and drank as much water and OJ as I could. As usual, I could not sleep.

Tuesday- February 6, 2007

I landed in Copenhagen just before 7am, which was 1am Atlanta time. I was sleepy, having been up since 7:30am the previous morning, but entry into Denmark was easy. There were no forms to fill out, and I merely walked up to passport control, handed them my passport, which was merely glanced at and returned to me. Presto, I was in the country! It's easier for me as an American to walk into Denmark than it is for me to return to the USA as a native born citizen. For me, there's irony in that.

The Copenhagen airport isn't that large, but it's very beautiful. The floors are a gorgeous hardwood, and the main atrium completely made of glass. My luggage arrived without incident, which greatly relieved me. I was worried that moving between airlines would result in lost luggage. I also withdrew money from an ATM on my government card, and then found a taxi.

The taxi was new and equipped with GPS navigation, which was neat to watch as we drove. It took a while to get to my hotel, which is in the "suburb" of Hellerup. My room was not ready at 8am in the morning, which I expected. I merely signed in, stored my luggage, and had some breakfast.
After breakfast, I sat in the lobby, read some, and fought the urge to sleep. Luckily, they put cleaning my room at the top of the priority list, so I was ensconced in my room by 10am. I quickly undressed and passed out. I woke briefly when John Spika called me at 5pm from the lobby. The EURO office had a leadership retreat at my hotel and he wondered if I wanted to come down. I begged off, since I had not showered and was quite sleepy still. He warned against sleeping too much or I'd be up in the middle of the night. Luckily, I have a tremendous ability to sleep for long periods after a prolonged time of being awake.

Wednesday – February 7, 2007

I awoke at 4:30am, which is what I'd planned since I needed to shower, dress, and unpack before going downstairs for breakfast. I wanted to get to breakfast not too long after 7am since I wasn't sure when I'd meet Steve Cochi and walk to work. Breakfast wasn't bad. They have an assortment of meats, eggs, fruit, and bread. It's an interesting mixture, and I'm glad it comes with the room.
My room is cute. It has two single beds in it, and a modern bathroom. There's a sitting chair, a window looking out into the interior parking area of the hotel, and a desk. There's also a kettle to make hot chocolate, coffee, or tea. The bathroom is modern and sleek, although there's only a shower, and no way to take a bath. That's OK, but it would be nice to have that option.

I had about an hour to myself before Steve arrived for breakfast. I ate with him, and then we walked to the office. It's about a 15-20 minute walk along the main street and then turn off into the hotel. It's nice, and I'm very glad that I'll be able to get that walk in every day for the next 7 weeks. The office hours are roughly 9-5 like they are in Atlanta. It's also not nearly as cold here as I feared it would be. It was a bit breezy, but we are right on the water. I can see the North Sea from the street. It's cloudy and somewhat gray, but I expected that.
The office building is super modern and sleek. It looks like an architectural firm with suspended concrete staircases, everything encased in glass, and the office space entirely open with modular furniture. It's like the IKEA catalogue vomited all over the place. Even the regional director has the exact same open cubicle that everyone else has! The conference rooms are all made of glass. They have a coat room, and everything is in the open. There's apparently no fear that people will steal things, which is definitely different from Africa.

I had a pleasant surprise that Paola is here. For those who have read my African journals, you'll remember that Paola was assigned to AFRO in Harare the previous times I've been there. She's apparently just arrived herself, so it's almost like old home week. Even Louie is here from home helping with data management. I have yet to get signed into the network, since I don't have my password, although my user ID is ready. I have met some of the people I will be working with on this meeting, so at least I know I won't be working all alone. I'll be providing the kind of support I'm used to providing, and I get the impression that the others will be managing the content while I'm working on the administrative stuff.

This evening, we had dinner at John Spika's home. It is a nice house. I fully expected an apartment of some kind, but this was a full blown house with a yard. Of course, he does have three kids, one of whom just went off to college. Those kids were wild too. Ages 10 and 11, they ran around the house like they were on speed. It was a funny contrast with John's extremely calm, nonplussed demeanor.

We had jambalaya and salad, which was very good. Nedrit, the head of the office here, joined us too. She's an interesting lady. We ate and talked until about 10pm when Nedrit drove myself and Steve Cochi back to the hotel. Steve will leave tomorrow for Atlanta, so I probably won't see him again. Falling asleep will not be a problem.