The following day was to be our first rock sampling day in Iceland. We were looking to find specific types of rocks called hyaloclasites. These rocks were formed during submarine or subglacial eruptions. The rapid cooling of the erupting lavas in contact with cold water/ice produced volcanic glass fragments through a process called quenching. Within these glass fragments we hoped to find primary olivine crystals that would preserve geochemical information about the magmas and their sources.
The typical view from central Iceland, 2016
Paul Martin had pre-picked numerous volcanic targets across Iceland based on previously published data. The main target for that day was a volcanic center named Kistufell. Located just north of Vatnajökull, Iceland’s largest ice cap, Kistufell is not an easy place to get to. The F-road we had to take was one of the roughest and most notorious roads in Iceland: Gæsavatnaleið.
The road to Vatnajökull
From our lodging at Nyidalur we drove north on the F26 to get on the F910. The weather was perfect. Sunny and mildly warm with a slight cool breeze. The F910 would take us back south towards Kistufell, as well as other targets along the way. Our first one was a small and insignificant looking mound of rocks in the middle of nowhere called Bokki.
Basaltic mound (tumulus) at Bokki
There were still no hyaloclastite rocks at Bokki, but we did grab a couple of basalt fragments that were rich in olivines. Despite not being the target rock, this would end up being quite a good sample later on.
Further along the road we reached the second target of our day, Kambsfell. Here is where we found our first hyaloclastites. These rocks were basically breccias containing pillow basalt and volcanic glass fragments held together by a compacted brownish crystal matrix. Very easy to break off and sample with a hammer.
My first hyaloclastite rocks and a nicely shaped pillow basalt at the bottom
Following the road southeast, we reached a junction where we turned towards Gæsavatnaleið. To this day I’m uncertain if Gæsavatnaleið is just a section of the F910, or is the actual name of the entire road. It’s fairly hard to figure out these roads based on google maps and the limited information available online. For the purpose of consistency, I’ll just stick to calling Gæsavatnaleið the portion of the road that came after the aforementioned junction and ran along the northern edges of the ice field.
Gæsavatnaleið – as rough as they come
We had reached the northwestern edges of Vatnajökull and were now driving parallel to the grand glacier. At certain points it would have been easy to pull over and just run over to touch the ice, but we had to stay focused on our work.
Getting closer and closer to the Vatnajökull ice cap
Soon enough the vast flood plains of the ice field opened up before us. The road seemingly disappearing in a large canvas of wet sand and shallow water flowing down from the glacier. A continuous set of road pilons were the only thing keeping us from completely veering off course. Occasionally, we could see fresh tracks of vehicles that had previously left their mark in the sand.
Paul was driving slow and steady over the wet sands, but the car was showing signs of poor grip. There were several occasions where we feared we might get stuck in the sand. Unfortunately I have no images of the flood plains, but for anyone curious, there is this video I found on YouTube showcasing this section of the Gæsavatnaleið.
On the way to Kistufell, passing several fascinating volcanic edifices. Some might think we were in the heart of Mordor
After about 10 kilometers of flood plains came the basalt fields. We were back on solid rock at least, but it was the bumpiest “road” I’ve ever experienced. As opposed to other sections of the F910, the road here was rarely level and barely graded. At times it simply consisted of continuous rounded mounds of basaltic outcrops with the all too familiar road pilons telling you which way is less deadly to go. The whole SUV was rattling from side to side for the rest of the way. Suffice to say, our car did not have a good time.
Kistufell, a harsh wasteland
The last bit of road before reaching Kistufell was extremely rough. The belly of the car took more then one bump on the rocks while we were traversing the old lava flows. But everything seemed fine when we finally came to a stop.
I tried to take some photos of the various terrain we saw from the car, but the bumpy road did not help at all
In the vicinity we spotted a massive crater, Urðarháls, just northeast of the road. The road didn’t exactly lead to our mountain, but it got us close enough that we just had to hike a short half an hour south to reach it.
Remarkable features of the an old subaqueous fissure eruption
On our way we passed long, jagged stretches of rocks that were the results of old fissure eruptions along the rift. Being hyaloclastites in nature, we sampled these as well. As we passed the fissures and volcanic edifices nearby, the landscape opened up to reveal Kistufell. A towering, elongated mountain with patches of snow covering it’s steep inclines.
Mount Kistufell, at last
To reach Kistufell we had to cross an open field of old lava flows, sprinkled with ash and pumice. I kept remarking how the flow-direction features frozen in the basalts beneath our feet reminded me of that thin, wrinkly top crust of cooling mushroom soup. I was indeed craving mushroom soup at that point…
The “wrinkly” looking basaltic flows that reminded me of mushroom soup
After crossing that barren wasteland we reached the base of Kistufell. We climbed slightly up the steepening slope to get a fresh sample from the outcropping rocks.
Trouble on the horizon
The weather had stayed good thus far. However there were quite a few dark clouds gathering towards the east. With our work done, we considered having a late lunch break under the mountain as it was well in the afternoon.
The barren wastelands around Kistufell
As we stood there debating, we noticed an ominous haze growing on the horizon. A pale-brown veil began falling over the landscape in the east. We weren’t sure what it was, but quickly decided to best head back to the car.
We proceeded to cross the open wasteland once more. As the brown haze grew in size it became apparent that it was in fact an approaching dust storm. We covered up as well as we could and continued our hike. Within a matter of minutes the storm was upon us.
It was at this moment we knew that we were screwed
Fine-grained volcanic ash and pumice engulfed us in a windy torrent. Anything that wasn’t fully covered up like my ears, quickly filled up with dust. My sunglasses and buff were barely enough to keep the debris from my getting into my eyes, nose and mouth. I had to squint walking back the whole way as I felt the sand creeping in around my glasses. I could even taste the grains of dust in my mouth as we pushed trough the storm.
Trying to capture the dust storm… Good thing my camera survived
Finally, we reached the car and much needed relief from the harsh elements outside. Having never been in a desert myself, I couldn’t begin to imagine how awful one of these dust storms could truly be.
By the time that we finished our lunch it was passed 3 pm. The dust storm had passed and we were ready to head back to camp. The drive back should have taken us about one and a half hour. However, things didn’t exactly go smoothly.
We have a problem…
As soon as we started driving, something was off. We felt the car bouncing around way more than it should be. We weren’t sure if it was still just the awful road, or if there was a problem with the vehicle. After about 10 minutes of violently rattling around we decided to pull over and have a look at the tires. However, there were not flats and the pressure on all four tires looked to be fine.
On our way we passed one of Iceland’s largest shield volcanoes, Trölladyngja
I took the opportunity to answer natures call and when I was walking back towards the car I noticed something very strange. From afar, the back of the car was clearly tilting downwards. I told Paul and then it became even more clear that the chassis was barely above the back tires whereas there was significantly more space in the front. Could something have happened to the suspensions we wondered? But how?
We tried to look under the car, but due to the vehicle design and heavy dust cover we could barely see anything. At that point there was not much we could do anyway, so we decided to continue on slowly.
In the desolate brown-grey wastelands of central Iceland, Vatnajökull shined blindingly bright
The rocking became extremely violent as we drove over the worst parts of the F-road. It became more and more obvious to us that there was a serious problem with the suspensions.
In the middle of nowhere
Paul Martin was increasingly concerned about crossing the flood plains with our damaged car. With the stops we made and the slow driving, it was now passed 4 pm. As it was getting late in the day, the chances of any more traffic on the Gæsavatnaleið were dropping rapidly. This meant that our chance of potentially getting help in case we got stuck were quickly diminishing.
Ash fields, lava flows and volcanic ridges
We stopped the car on the last ridge before the flood plains. I remember us preparing a plan in case we had to ditch the car and walk. Luckily we spotted a shelter hut on our way to Kistufell, so we knew we could at least take shelter for the night. However, that was past the flood plains. Over 10 km away. It was the best we could come up with though.
We got out of the car and walked around to try to get reception on our phones. By some miracle my phone managed to scrape up one measly signal bar close to the hood of the car. Paul immediately called the car rental agency to explain our predicament.
I recall it was frustratingly funny to try to explain to the guy where we actually were: Central Iceland, north of Vatnajökull on the Gæsavatnaleið, east from the F910 junction and west of Mount Kistufell. The guy had no clue. Then I realized we had Garmin GPS devices on us. As I was telling Paul that we can give them coordinates, my phone lost reception and the call got cut off.
Man in the middle of nowhere
About 15 minutes and several attempts later, we managed to reestablish connection and give them our coordinates. The guy’s response was “So you’re in the middle of nowhere…”. Yes. Yes we were.
The resolution to our adventurous day
The guy told us that there was nothing they could do for us there. We had to bring the car back to Akureyri where they could have a look at it. Paul explained to him the potential hazard we were facing by crossing the flood plains and asked for advice. The guy didn’t know what to say so he took some time to consult with his colleagues. Another 15 minutes later he got back to us and suggested we attempt the crossing. Their thinking was that with the car’s weight bouncing around a lot more, it may actually keep us more buoyant when crossing the water and wet sand.
There was only one way to find out. In any case, we were to check back with them if we crossed safely or ran into any more trouble. Considering the poor signal coverage, it was unlikely they’d hear from us again if we did get stuck. Luckily, the flood planes proved to be a breeze to cross. Perhaps there was indeed something to their buoyancy idea.
All of in a day’s work for a geoscientist
It took us another two hours to slowly get back to camp. Poor Paul was completely exhausted by the end. We were both relieved and grinning proudly back in camp. We had gotten our first set of samples, endured the unforgiving dust storm and survived one of the worst roads of the Icelandic highlands, with a broken car no less.
Yet with all of this taking place within just the first day of field work, we knew there was much more to come. I was cautiously curious what this alien world would have in store for us in the coming days.
The second day in Iceland was spent mostly on the road, driving from Reykjavik to Akureyri in the north. The landscape thus far consisted of large grass-covered flat-topped mountain plateaus. These were in fact the remnants of past lava flows stacked on top of each other. Small patches of snow still persisted atop the higher plateaus. Sharp, jagged crests would occasionally emerge from among the generally gently curving mounts and hill mounds.
Serrated peaks towering above the rolling basaltic plains, Iceland 2016
It was a wild and rugged looking scenery, but with farmlands and pastures dotting the grasslands and foothills, it still looked quite habitable. This would soon change once we’d head towards central Iceland.
After the circa 5-hour drive we arrived in Akureyri and spent the rest of the day shopping for supplies and maps for the days to come. Sadly our time was short and there wasn’t much time for sightseeing this time around. With the car packed and ready to go, we began our drive towards central Iceland the next day.
Eyjafjörður Fjord in Akureyri
Iceland’s roads
For those who’ve never been to Iceland, the countries paved roads outside major cities basically consist of a large ring-road going around the island. In order to access the central part of the island (the Icelandic highlands) you need to use a series of F-roads (Fjallvegur), which are only accessible during the summer.
On the ring road east from Akureyri
The F-roads, or mountain roads are rough, unpaved gravel roads that require 4×4 vehicles. The F, which stands for “fjall” (mountain), might as well stand for “fuck”, because if you don’t have a good vehicle you’re fucked on these roads. Like seriously, some of the F-roads literally cross basalt outcrops that will destroy any low-riding car. Certain F-roads cross sandy glacier flood plains that can get you stuck in an instant. Plus there are numerous river crossings, which can easily drown a car engine.
This is as good as it gets on the F-roads in central Iceland
Most of the vehicles we saw on these roads were modified trucks and SUV’s with raised chassis, large tires and elevated exhaust systems. At a minimum you need a good SUV and even then you may have problems as we would soon find out.
The northern Icelandic Rift Valley
From Akureyri we drove further east for about an hour before turning south into the northern Icelandic Rift Valley on one of the F-roads. I was eagerly anticipating seeing one of the main active rift valleys. I expected we would drive through a narrow rocky canyon. Instead, we simply turned into a wide open grassy field with an anemic river flowing parallel to the road. All of which was flanked by the typical flat-top hills in the distance. The hills were so far apart on both sides that it took me a while to realize we were in fact in a valley.
Driving along the Northern Rift Valley
The landscape was similar for a while more before shifting radically to a completely barren wasteland. Gone were the grasslands and any semblance of vegetation for the most part. The greenery was now replaced by harsh rocky terrains covered in centuries old pumice and ashfall. The vast majority of the land was nothing but a brown-grey wasteland with snow-capped peaks in the distance. However, the occasional rivers and creeks would still allow for seldom patches of vegetation to fight for survival.
The old “land-bucket” was handling well thus far, but could it survive the F-roads for our entire expedition?
I had never seen such a desolate landscape before, or since. It was incredibly eerie and fascinating at the same time.
Huts and highlands
The plan for the day was to drive to Nyidalur, a remote hut and camping site deep in the Icelandic highlands. Nyidalur was also home to a couple of Park Wardens from the Icelandic Northern National Park, with whom we had to confirm our arrival.
The drive there was fairly uneventful with the exception of a couple of dubious river crossings. One of these gave us pause when we felt the backend of the car gently sliding down-river. No wonder these roads are closed for most of the year. We were getting nervous crossing these rivers during late-summer in a fairly large SUV. Imagine trying to cross them in late-spring when they’re bloated from all the melting snow.
Road poles marking the shallow river crossing near Nyidalur.
After arriving at our destination we drove to the dam at Þjórsarlón to scout our first possible area of interest. However, we didn’t find much there and it seemed like our real field work would only begin the following day.
Towards the late afternoon we were back at Nyidalur. Our SUV dwarfed by the large modified trucks in the parking lot. The hut consisted of an amalgamation of cabins and tents. Some of them offices and storage spaces, while most others were rent-outs for visitors. A large and proud Icelandic flag rising above all blew in the harsh, cold wind. We were on an alien planet and this was our base.
Nyidalur huts and camping ground deep in the Icelandic highlands
We had a nice dinner and then settled in to our shared cabin. Before sunset, I went out to briefly explore the surroundings by foot. It was fascinating to see vegetation surviving in this harsh, desolate land. Among the timid grasslands there were even patches of blooming pink wildflowers. This was truly a remarkable land.
Life finds a way even in the harshest remote regions
The three things you wouldn’t normally expect to hear in the same sentence are warm, sunny, Iceland. Yet this pretty much sums up the entirety of our two week field trip to the north Atlantic island.
Just to briefly recap: my whole going to Iceland actually started with a late-2015 proposition from my soon to be MSc thesis supervisor, Paul Martin Holm, to do a project on Argentina. Then after the Argentina project ended up being a bust due to some financial miscalculations, Paul Martin was quick to offer me another possibility: the Iceland project.
Grass-covered basalt layers and volcanic edifices – a taste of what is to come
Thus, I was fortunate enough that in early August 2016, I was flying together with Paul Martin, on an all expense covered field trip to Iceland. As it turned out, that August would be one of the sunniest and warmest periods Iceland had had in quite some time. Fortune was truly in our favor!
Airport shenanigans
As I was on the metro heading towards the airport on the day of our trip, I suddenly got this nose bleed out of nowhere. Alright, no big deal. I thought, it should stop by the time I actually got the airport. Nope! It kept on going, no matter how much tissue paper I stuffed up in there. I don’t know if it was stress, or what, but this was really out of the ordinary for me…
Some time later, I meet up with Paul Martin in the airport. He’s there all cheerful and happy and here I come leaking blood all over the place. He started asking if I was alright, if I was good for the trip. I was more annoyed than anything else because I couldn’t stop the nostril faucet and enjoy our upcoming trip. Too much excitement?
Oh, and someone had lost their balloon in Kastrup Airport… Tragic!
So we end up talking to airport staff who connects us to a medical person they had on the line. We ask the person on the line weather it’s safe for me to get on the plane with my stupid nose bleed. The person gave me the all clear and finally, by the time we get to security, the bloody leaking stopped. We were off to a “fantastic” start, I said to Paul Martin…
Arrival
Luckily the flight was fairly uneventful and once we were above Iceland we got to have a decent areal view of the fantastic landscape below.
Flying above the volcanic chains of Iceland for the first time in 2016
As I recall we spent quite some time at either, or both the airport and the car rental agency. There was all sort of paperwork for Paul to fill out and waiting around for other people.
One thing with Iceland is that they are, or were, very rigorous about what goes out of the country. Especially when it comes to rocks. The country doesn’t want tourists to be taking rocks from their National Parks away as souvenirs. Since we were on a geological research project and it was kind of our business to take rocks away, there were all sorts of forms to sign and people to notify.
Then the car rental people were slow with delivering our car. Just as a heads up, Iceland is an extremely expensive country and renting cars is no exception. So Paul went with the cheapest agency he could find that rented out SUV’s. Finally, after a few hours, we had our Toyota Landcruiser and were heading to our hotel in Reykjavik.
Exploring Reykjavik
I had the rest of the afternoon off and was planning to meet up with my Icelandic friend Bjørn from Denmark, who was back home in Reykjavik.
Beautiful, Sunny Reykjavik
The weather was fantastic. Slightly breezy, but sunny and warm. Nothing like what Bjørn had described to me with his doom and gloom build-up to my trip. The moment I meet up with him he was upset. He was angrily exclaiming that this isn’t fair! I’m not seeing the real Iceland. It’s supposed to be cold, rainy and super windy, always! Well… Not when I’m there, I said to him laughing out loud.
Bjørn then took me around the main attractions of central Reykjavik. We started off with the iconic Hallgrimskirkja, a towering 74.5 m high church that stands as one of the tallest structures in the country. It’s unique exterior design resembles that of columnar basalts found in various parts of the country, as well as other volcanic regions around the world. In front of the church is a statue of Leif Eriksson, the famous Viking explorer thought to have been the first European to reach North America.
Hallgrimskirkja with the statue of Leif Eriksson in the front
Harbor area
From Hallgrimskirkja we walked around the small center briefly touring the University of Iceland’s campus. Afterwards we headed towards the Harpa Concert Hall and the harbor area. Here ran across Minør, a small preserved steam locomotive. Part of the short-lived Icelandic narrow-gauge railway, it was used in the early 20th century in constructing the Reykjavik harbor.
Minør the steam locomotive
Finally, we went over to Bjørn’s place, which was close to the harbor. Everything just seemed close in Reykjavik, one of the smallest and neatest capitals in the world. After meeting part of Bjørn’s family, we headed up to a rooftop terrace where a splendid city view welcomed us. We proceeded to enjoy a couple of cool drinks and soak in the warm rays of sunny Iceland.
Having a beer with Bjørn in Reykjavik
From student to colleague
In the evening, I met up with Paul Martin and we went out to a restaurant of his choosing to have dinner. This would be one of the last day we had a high quality cooked meal, as for the next two weeks we’d be traveling across Iceland and eating mostly canned foods and sandwiches.
Paul asked me if I’d like to share a bottle of wine with him. Seeing the extravagant prices around me, I sheepishly replied that I would, but considering the rule we had in our Gran Canaria field trip that students pay for their alcohol, I was reluctant to pay the hefty sum out of my barely recovering pockets. The man smiled and replied, but you are not a student here anymore, you are my colleague, so that rule doesn’t apply. I loved this guy! He always knew how to brighten my mood. We continued on to have a wonderful dinner with drinks and jolly banter.
The next morning, we packed up the Landcruiser and drove all day north to Akureyri.
The long drive north to Akureyri and the start of our Iceland adventure
It was now June 2016 and summer was upon us in Denmark. My financial crisis was over and I had settled into my new routine, balancing study and work. We were nearing the end of the semester and the onset of summer break. I was happy to take a break from courses and begin focusing on my ambitious one-year thesis project on Iceland. However, this period also triggered a new crisis for me. A housing crisis…
The problem…
In one of my first posts about life in Denmark, I mentioned how difficult it could be to find an affordable place to stay in Copenhagen, especially as a foreign student. The Housing Foundation was a relatively easy, albeit pricey, solution for first-year students. But their contracts would only cover the first year of study, and mine was nearing its end.
I got my two legs to stand on, but now I lost my upper body – Uh oh! – Sculpture from The Glyptotek, Copenhagen
I began looking for other potential dorms, and housing portals a couple of months before the deadline, but this was already way too late. Waiting lists for some of the dorms in Copenhagen had people on them going back over a year. It was absurd!
I was getting tired of the never ending crisis, but it was time to “fight” once more, so head first right into the storm!
I searched through some of the major housing/rental websites too. There were seldom any studio apartments available. If I ever found one, the price would be too steep. Flat sharing was more common and affordable, but even that was hard to come by as demand exceeded supply.
Last, but not least I made sure to spread the word amongst my friends in hopes that they knew someone looking for a flat mate. Luckily I had no shortage of friends. I was also quickly making more friends in Danish language classes. However, it seemed like everyone was looking for a new place to stay…
At least I found the horse – south Amager, Denmark
Cycling and exploring
Potential homelessness aside, things were good. Whenever I had free time and decent weather, I’d get back on my bike and go explore new parts of Copenhagen and its surroundingas. In this regard, I had found a like-minded friend in Danish class: Marios from Greece. On one of our cycling trips we south of Copenhagen to explore the island of Amager.
Cycling along Sluseløbet in west Amager
Amager was a blend of the urban, ultra-modern south-side of the city of Copenhagen bordered by cow and horse filled pastures. A comically stark change back then. Not sure if it’s still the same today. Further south there were a few quiet towns, nice beaches and Copenhagen international airport (Kastrup). All of this within reasonable cycling distance.
Somewhere in Kalvebod Fælled, close to Kastrup airport in south Amager
Dyrehaven
On another occasion we cycled north-east of the capital, to Dyrehaven (Deer park). This was one of my favorite places to go outside of the city. The northeastern coastline leading to the park was gorgeous, especially on a sunny day. At the entrance of the 11 km2 park was Bakken, the worlds oldest working amusement park.
Horseback riding in Dyrehaven, very common across Denmark actually
Dyrehaven was crisscrossed by a web of trails all converging around the center of the park at the royal hunting lodge. On the wide trails we’d zig zag around trekkers, cyclers and the occasional horse carriage. The narrow forest trails were less crowded and way more fun for cycling.
Racing across the park
Across the wide park we’d often encounter groups of deer roaming around the ponds and forests. Every now and again we’d reach the fenced edge, reminding us that we were in a man-made park and not in the wild. For me, this was the one sad thing about Denmark. It’s so extensively developed that there’s barely any patches of wilderness left. At least on the eastern part of the country where I lived and traveled.
It was always a side quest to find the deer whenever I’d visit Dyrehaven
The crisis is over! for now…
Towards the end of June I found myself having a drink with some of my fellow student at the Geobar. I still hadn’t found a place to stay and I was supposed to move out of my dorm within a week. As I sat there complaining and being all mopey, my drunk friend Lasse says out of the blue: “Well why don’t you come live with me, buddy?”. He tells me the price he’s paying and considering the location and size of the place, it was crazy cheap! The explanation was that his uncle owned the place. It was too good to be true.
There’s my shocked expression when Lasse invited me to be his flat mate out of nowhere – The Glyptotek, Copenhagen
I thought he was surely joking; but no he wasn’t… Then I thought he was just saying that because he had one too many drinks at the time… yet, the next day when I brought it up again he was still onboard with the idea. Just like that, my crisis was solved. Well, at least for the time being. We agreed that I’d still be searching for another place while I’d be living with him. Something that would kind of slip my mind after a few months as I became more comfortable there.
Big DONG sticking out in Amager, Denmark
His setup wasn’t really meant for long-term squatters, but I made the best of it. We got ahold of mattress, threw it on the floor in his study room and voila! Home sweet home. Well, sort of. Hey, it worked for the time and by splitting his already low rent, I was saving some good money too!
Another crisis averted, could I actually relax for a change, or was the next one right around the corner?
A travel-packed summer
After settling all of my problems in the first half of 2016, I was ready for a fun, travel-packed summer.
During July, I took a few days to hop over to Germany and see my mom who was visiting our relatives in Wuppertal. All I recall from that trip was visiting this funny park with some quirky modern art and décor. Another thing I recall was that at that time I was already planning to bring my mom over to Denmark for Christmas, so I was building up the hype for that.
Being eaten by a puffy German house – Wuppertal, Germany
Other than Germany, I had two big trips coming up. A two-week field work in Iceland for my Masters thesis and a glorious return to Norway, to visit my good friend Daniel, who had recently moved to Trondheim. It was truly going to be an epic summer. One of my fondest to date!
By the end of April, 2016, my roommate Nao’s student exchange period was over. He was going back to Japan and I was soon to get a new roommate. After his departure, one of the days I come back from university to find a small crew of cleaners on the job, making sure our room was in top shape for the new arrival. Just before I entered my room, I overheard them talking in Hungarian, so I greeted them in Hungarian and we started chatting. After some small talk, I was quick to inquire if their company was hiring students for part-time work. One of the guys, Gyuri recommends I write to his former employer, Inger, who owns a cleaning company, as she’ll usually hire people for part-time work.
The light at the end of the tunnel
I wasted no time and sent an email to Inger that afternoon. I wrote that I was a friend of Gyuri and I was desperately in need of work and looking to prove myself. The next morning I received a reply. She states that they had issues with Gyuri in the past due to recreational drug use and had fired him. So based on this she was very reluctant on hiring any of his “friends”… My man Gyuri had almost gotten me hired and fired at the same time.
The moment you realize the light at the end of the tunnel is a train coming your way
I immediately wrote back to Inger explaining that I had actually only met Gyuri and that he was kind enough to offer me her contact. I threw in some apologies, regrets and a pinch of desperate groveling. Shortly after, she replied that she will give me a chance and called me in for the formal interview.
Finally! After half a year of job searching and job applications I scored something! All thanks to a chance encounter with a couple of Hungarian cleaners in my student dorm.
A quirky job
The interview was smooth and casual. At the start, they gave me a few temporary cleaning gigs as a replacement for some of their regular staff. My first job was a late-night cleaning adventure at a high-end executive employment office. The client was very picky about their spotless cleanliness so I was asked to take extra care. I took my time and spent an extra hour overtime without asking for extra pay, just to make sure everything was perfect.
The fancy executive office next to Amelieborg, where I started my part-time work
My supervisor, Irina was very pleased and tentatively asked me if I could possibly help her with another gig that night. By this time it was past midnight, but I didn’t care. I was up for a late night cleaning extravaganza. We then drove over to this famous Danish sexologist’s office. Irina was telling me how their regular cleaner there was a shy Muslim fellow who was covering his eyes while cleaning for months because of the lewd paintings and sculptures on display all over the place. It was certainly the oddest office I’ve tended to, but luckily we only had to do a basic floor cleaning and trash tiding. No touching the displays and… toys…
The big contract
After a couple of weeks doing these replacement jobs, the cleaning company gave me my big stable contract. I was going to be their main cleaning guy tending to VICE media‘s Copenhagen office.
The beautiful old downtown building housing VICE media’s office on the top floors
It was a huge office space. This was great for me as this one contract perfectly covered the amount of hours I needed per week to be eligible for the SU-grant. Two week-days of 3.5 hours in the evenings and one 8 hour day on the weekend. This was a good stable schedule that I could work with. I would also have Danish language classes on the same weekdays, Mondays and Wednesdays.
Thus began my busy student schedule for the rest of 2016, where during the week I’d have two full days of courses in the morning, Danish classes in the afternoon and work in the evening. In between I’d have my recovery days with just courses and studying and then my working weekend, with potentially one day off to relax and recharge.
A rainy May day at Amelieborg
It was a lot of work, but I felt like I had all the energy in the world. Then when the money from the job and SU-grant started coming in… I felt like a king! I could actually afford things now!
A long time desire
With my financial burden lifted, I rushed to fulfill one of my desires ever since I had moved to Copenhagen: getting a gym subscription.
For years, even before moving to Denmark, I had been trying to get into shape by exercising at home. But I looked forward to the day I could afford to go to a gym and have access to all the crazy machinery and contraptions. This desire only escalated when I moved and noticed there was a big FitnessDK gym (now SATS) next to my dorm in Østerbro.
Railway overpass to Østerbro
Flashback
Sometime during November of 2015, FitnessDK was offering a 1-day for free deal and I convinced my friend Eddy to join me for a few hours of physical exercise. He was mostly interested in improving his cycling stamina, while I wanted to test everything out and do a hardcore full body workout. I treated this like I would any other freebie deal: Need to take full advantage! So I spent almost 3 hours working out every muscle to the limit… this when I had never been to a gym before, nor had I ever been the sporty type.
My whole body was numb after the workout. That night I woke up with severe muscle soreness and my arms folded up like little T-rex hands. The muscles were so tensed up that I couldn’t stretch my arms out. Everything hurt so much that I didn’t leave my room for the next couple of days. I could barely even lift a cup of water without my arm shaking like crazy. Lesson learned…
One of my old gyms in central Copenhagen
When I finally got my gym subscription, I was going to do it the proper way. Slow and consistent. I cycled through a few YouTube fitness channels over the next months until I landed on AthleanX, who I follow to this day. After all these years of continuing this hobby, I can happily say that I’m in the best shape I’ve ever been in and won’t be stopping my gym routine anytime soon!
When I moved to Denmark in autumn 2015, one of my plans was to get a foothold in the oil and gas sector in the region and end up moving to Norway. Ever since my uplifting trip to Norway years before, Norway became the promised land for me. I tried to apply to jobs there ever so often and I tried to go study there. In Denmark I felt so close that I could smell the salt water of the Norwegian fjords. Yet as I spent more time adjusting to Danish life it grew on me more and more.
A forest path somewhere around Hillerød, Denmark
After coming back from our geological field trip to Gran Canaria I had gained a new level of respect and appreciation for the Danes and their country. I could now see myself calling Denmark a home for the foreseeable future. Thus, my plans shifted away from Norway and I decided to better integrate into Danish society. The first and main step would be to learn the Danish language. Luckily as long as you have a CPR (local ID card) Danish language classes are free and offered across the country by the local municipality. I didn’t waste any time in signing up and from May 2016 I would being my late afternoon classes at Studieskolen.
Spring cycling
Spring had settled in and the fields and trees began blooming with flowers across the Danish lands. However, April weather was as schizophrenic as it could get. The daily recipe was a couple of hours of warm, beautiful sunshine, followed by half an hour of hail/rain and chilling winds.
On one of the better days I had planned a long cycling trip to the town of Hillerød, 36km north of Copenhagen.
Spring of 2016, Denmark
I was going to visit one of my Danish friends and colleagues, Jesper who lived in Hillerød. This was also my first time venturing well out of the Danish capital to explore new terrain. New places, adventures and things like that always got me excited.
The cycling lane pretty much followed the main vehicle road going north out of Copenhagen, all the way to Hillerød. On the way I got to bike around and explore new neighborhoods of the busy capital, followed by long stretches of calming countryside.
On the road to Hillerød
Patches of green, sprouting forests were often interrupted by small towns and villages. The road also presented three major hills to conquer. Despite what one would expect from a map, the Danish landscape isn’t as flat as you may think.
Hillerød
After a few hours of cycling and sweating, the final stretch of forest revealed the entrance sign to Hillerød. This final bit of the road to Hillerød with its many nature paths and tranquil forest was always my favorite.
The all too familiar gas station at the entrance to Hillerød
I soon met up with Jesper and we walked to the iconic landmark in the town center: Frederiksborg Castle. Built in the early 17th century, this elegant castle served as a summer residence for the Danish royal family for decades before being turned into a museum. With its numerous bedrooms, dining rooms and various chambers, the multistory castle is the largest Renaissance complex in the Nordic region.
Frederiksborg Castle entrance, Hillerød
As impressive as Frederiksborg may have been on the inside, this wasn’t the time for me to explore it. Unfortunately my financial issues turned me into the ultimate penny-pincher. For the time I would only enjoy such places from the outside where they were free of charge. Besides, the castle grounds and outside decorations were probably just as impressive as anything on the inside.
The victory pose returns!
Indeed, the gardens which are open to the public are a must visit to anyone around Hillerød. Some of the best spots include the cascading fountain – a series of terraced pools and waterfalls, the emblematic rose garden and the scenic Lake Slotsø with its family of white swans. Side-note: for some areas like the rose garden, it’s best to visit during the summer when all the flowers are in bloom.
Frederiksborg Castle gardens
My little one day trip to Hillerød was a much needed respite from my daily thoughts regarding increasingly troubling financial times.
The financial front
There was still no improvement on the money front. I believe it was around April when I had to pay the final installment of my rent and I was pretty much out of funds by that point. Despite my newfound ambition and zeal coming back from Gran Canaria, I was still unable to find a job. As much as I didn’t want to, I had to resort to the only person in my family that could help me stay afloat during the time… my geologist cousin living in Canada, Lucian.
Growing up, I had always looked up to my cousin and his successes. Heck, I even chose to follow the same career path as him. I knew that if I ever got into a really tight financial spot, all I had to do was ask and he’d help me out. Still… I really hated asking for help. Call it stubbornness, call it pride, call it whatever you want. This whole thing I was doing by moving to a completely new country and forging my path, I wanted to do it completely on my own. In my view, any outside assistance would just invalidate my one-man mission. However, by the spring of 2016, I was out of options.
As much as I loved my trusty, rusty ‘Shame”, I looked forward to the day I could afford to buy a new bike
I strictly asked my cousin for just the amount I needed to cover my final rent. I was going to take care of the rest myself, I told him. Of course he helped me out immediately.
It would take quite a long time for me to grow out of this prideful mindset. Well… to be honest, I can’t really say if I ever truly have. But at least these days I’ve come to accept that it’s ok to ask for help from others every now and again.
As I mentioned at the end of my previous post, Gran Canaria to me was a sort of eye opener to a different world. A world of constant warm climate, sunshine, beaches, palm trees and luxury tourist resorts. A sort of idealized island paradise world, where, at least in the moment, one doesn’t care about money anymore. That’s because presumably one already has enough money if they end up in a place like this.
Well I didn’t have money… But I felt like I did. This feeling is what I mean by I got a small taste of “the good life”. Something I’d never felt before. I relished the feeling and wanted more. My experience in Gran Canaria ignited an ambition for success that would shape some of the most momentous decisions later on in my life.
The landscape of Gran Canaria
But I’m getting ahead of myself now. Let me first tell you about our adventures on the island.
Road trips across a volcanic island
We spent most of our days in Gran Canaria on the road. Driving around and across the island to observe its magnificent geological features.
Like the rest of the Canary Islands, Gran Canaria is a volcanic island made up of various volcanic rocks ranging from basalts to rhyolites. This range of rock types from silica-poor to silica-rich represents the typical evolution of ocean island forming magmas.
A rocky wall showcasing two generations of ignimbrites delineated by a scorched contact margin
Another typical rock type in Gran Canaria are ignimbrites. Ignimbrites are basically hardened volcanic tuff formed as a result of pyroclastic flows. For those unaware, pyroclastic flows are those superheated “grey avalanches” of gas and volcanic particles moving down the slopes of an angry erupting volcano at very high speeds. They are probably the most dangerous features of a violent volcanic eruption. Their direction is very hard to predict, you can’t outrun them and they incinerate and carbonize everything in their path.
The master volcanologist and igneous petrologist himself in action, Paul Martin Holm.
In the end, all that violent rocky and gassy outburst, coupled with erosion leads to some really unique rock formations.
Fuente de los Azulejos
The name of this colorful geological formation literally translates to the fountain of tiles. Located in the municipality of Tejeda in the center of the island, los Azulejos are a result of hydrothermal activity and oxidation, coupled with erosional features.
The colorful rocks of Los Azulejos in Gran Canaria
The rocks at los Azulejos are primarily composed of basalts. The green and blue colors come from an abundance of copper minerals such as malachite and azurite. Water and erosion over time contributed to the distribution of these colors across a large area.
A close-up of Los Azulejos
Roque Nublo
Another geological feature and major tourist attraction in the municipality of Tejada is Roque Nublo. Translated to “Rock in Clouds” this 80 meter high rocky monolith towers over the surrounding landscape.
Hiking towards Roque Nublo we got a view of these clouds rolling over the jagged landscape
One of the most iconic landmarks of the island, Roque Nublo offers spectacular panoramic views of the rolling hills and valleys of the Gran Canaria. On top of that, you get a spectacular view of Tenerife island in the distance.
The neighboring Tenerife island popping up in the distance above the clouds
Initially a landscape made up of various lava flows, ash and pumice, was shaped over millions of years by wind and water. In time, erosional forces have erased all but the most resilient of rocks which today make up the core of Roque Nublo.
The towering Roque Nublo
Dragon Tail cliffs at Mirador del Balcón
Located on the western coast of Gran Canaria, the Dragon Tail Cliffs at Mirador del Balcón are geological formation renowned for their dramatic appearance and panoramic views. The epic name was derived from the jagged, serrated edges of the cliffs, which resemble the tail of a dragon in silhouette against the sky.
The Dragon Tail Cliffs at Mirador del Balcón
The cliffs at Mirador del Balcón are composed of basaltic lava flows, which in time have been carved and sculpted by winds and waves. The dramatic shapes of these cliffs are a result of the high durability and resistance to erosion of basaltic rocks.
Bandama Caldera
Measuring approximately 1000 meters in diameter and 200 meters deep, the Bandama Caldera is one of the Canary Islands largest volcanic craters. Located near the town of Santa Brígida, the caldera offers yet more stunning views and geological features.
It was impossible to capture the sheer size of Bandama Caldera in one photo
The Bandama Caldera is the result of a massive volcanic eruption that occurred thousands of years ago. The subsequent collapse and erosion of the caldera left a large depression in the landscape.
On the road from the Bandama Caldera towards the coast you can find some of best examples of pillow basalts. These structures form during underwater lava eruptions, as a result of rapid cooling.
The perfect pillow basalt
Mapping ignimbrites
On one of the days we split into multiple teams and did a field study of different rock formations. My hotel roommates and I were assigned to map ignimbrites. As such, Nigel, Søren, Michael and I spent one day in the scorching sun noting down the features of this huge wall of rock along a sloped road.
Søren discovering a perfectly preserved volcanic bomb between the ignimbrite layers
Below us, in the valley, there was a raging pool party at one of the resorts. Not having an ounce of shade the whole day, we became quite disgruntled with and jealous of the people below. They were also playing that damned “Tunak Tunak” song on loop the whole day… To this day I can’t stand listening to that song because of this!
Hearing the Tunak Tunak song for the millionth time
Despite our complaints, we still had a great time doing fun geology things while sometimes stopping to admire the views of that incredible place. Later on we would compile a report of our findings, which would contribute towards the final grade of the course.
The tempting view while working in the hot sun all day
Leisurely evenings
After our daily road trips, sight seeing and geology work, we would spend our late afternoons and evenings doing various activities. Be it a dip in the pool, a walk across town, or a night of drinking on the terrace, there was always something to do.
Finishing up a long days work on the rocks
One of my favorite nights was poker night with my roommates. Søren had brought a poker set with him, so the four of us sat down for a very serious game of Texas Hold’Em. The stakes were high as we were playing for drinks. Losers buy the winners one and two beers respectively. After a crafty combination of luck, aggression and bluffing, I had managed to secure my second place and one free beer. However, my luck was up as the most inexperienced of us actually managed to win the big pot! Regardless, I was quite pleased with my results.
During the last evening, Paul Martin took us all out for a game of mini golf. This was after we had a few drinks. Among them a couple of shots of true Absinth. The 89.9% alcohol drink that gives you brain damage. To my surprise it tasted better than some other dreadful things I drank in my life – hint hint, Swedish bitter and Stroh rum… Ugh…
Tasty liquid death
On top of all this we had an incredible varied buffet dinner each night. I will never forget the seafood themed one. Just the variety and the taste of it all was so good! Suffice to say the nights were a blast.
Final thoughts on our trip
As a holiday trip and adventure, Gran Canaria is up there on my list with some of my most memorable trips. However, as part of a university field course? Hands down the best course I’ve ever taken!
Field courses are always more fun than just sitting in the class, or lab all day. I’ve done quite a few back in Romania during my Bachelors days. But of course the level of financing and opportunity between my Romanian and Danish Universities was incomparable.
Our geologist version of ‘The shining”
I mentioned how my trip to Gran Canaria turned on an ambition switch in my head that would pave the way for future decisions and successes. However, there was another thing I gained from my field trip there. An immense gratitude and respect towards my professor, Paul Martin, the University of Copenhagen and Denmark in general. So much so that when we flew back to Denmark I decided that I would sign up for the state offered Danish language classes and I would try to make Denmark my permanent home.
The first month of 2016 passed by quickly with reports and exams. As bad as my financial situation was, I had to brush that to the side for now. My focus was fully on university work. It payed off too. I received good results on my exams. In fact, to my shock, I had even scored close to the top grade in my geochemistry class.
Changing of the royal guard at Amalienborg
Meanwhile we had to sign up for our optional courses in the upcoming semester. One of the options was a field course with my future thesis supervisor Paul Martin. Participants would travel a week to Gran Canaria in the Canary Islands and work on volcanic flows. Most of the trip would be covered by the University. Even with my money issues, this was a no-brainer for me.
On the other hand, there was another fascinating field course that would entail a trip to the USA. However, this would be more costly to the students. As much as I would have loved to sign up, I had to pass. One field course was good enough.
Sanctuary
February started off with a post-exam break. I was back on my job-search duties. I kept on asking around for opportunities and sending out swarms of emails. At one point my strategy became that with every rejection I got, I’d send out another three job applications. It was a number’s game, I thought. Something had to give at some point.
Copenhagen’s winters were generally rainy and grey, but occasionally we’d get a thin blanked of snow
Otherwise I regularly went out on my cycling trips, exploring the city and its outskirts. This was my way of recharging mentally. Just me, my thoughts and my music. I ended up finding this lovely strip of coastline around Charlottenlund, just north of Copenhagen. It had a wide-open beach park and a motte with rusty old cannons pointing towards Sweeden. This place became my sanctuary. My favorite daytime, or nighttime retreat to relax and clear my mind.
My sanctuary: Charlottenlund beach park during fall
Other times I would venture in other new directions within and out of the city. Every time seeking to explore a new place. Mostly parks, or nice neighborhoods. I would have loved to visit some of the castles, or museums, but most of these cost money. So with my tight budget, I had to settle for just the outside views for now.
The winds of change
Sometime around February, Paul Martin called me in for a meeting regarding the Argentina project. He had some bad news. He couldn’t go through with the project that year due to a mix-up at the financial department. As it turned out, he wouldn’t have the necessary funds. He was incredibly regretful and apologetic. Then almost immediately, he offered me another project if I were interested.
Specifically, a fully funded research project for one Master’s thesis, with two-weeks field work together with him in Iceland. I was blown away. I actually had to make an effort to hide my excitement in light of the unfortunate news about the Argentina project. But this? Iceland? Fully funded? One huge financial burden gone and I get to go to freaking Iceland!? Holy shit this was amazing! I immediately accepted and with a huge grin on my face we shook hands.
My financial problems weren’t gone yet, but this was at least one less burden to deal with. A step in the right direction. I could feel the winds of misfortune slowly shifting away.
A rare snowy day in Copenhagen, Denmark
Apart from my routine, the rest of February involved preparations and an increasing anticipation for the upcoming field trip to Gran Canaria in early March.
A taste of the good life
We departed Copenhagen late in the afternoon and by the time we reached Gran Canaria it was already night time. This was my first time going to a subtropical destination, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. I mean we all see places like this in pictures and movies, but it’s always quite a bit different experiencing them first hand.
I didn’t get to see much during landing, as it was mostly just a lot of darkness suddenly followed by the glimmering lights of the airport below. Then we entered the terminal, got our luggage and made our way to the basement parking to pick up our rented cars.
Night time view from our hotel room balcony in Gran Canaria
The realization of where I was only started sinking in once we drove out the airport. Warmly lit highways with palm trees stretching along the roads. Luxurious resorts with inviting swimming pools all around. Then our own resort hotel, with elegant rooms and balconies overlooking the gorgeous valley below and the Atlantic Ocean in the distance. Later still, the food… Oh that magnificent food! Each day a different themed buffet diner…
On the surface I was acting all calm and collected. However, on the inside I was so giddy at everything around me! Up until that point, I was never one to really yearn for tropical paradises, but… now I was experiencing one and it was AMAZING!
Day time view from our hotel room balcony in Gran Canaria
I was getting a small taste of the good life. A hypothetical life where financial worries are a part of the past. A life where I could actually afford to enjoy places like Gran Canaria on my own dime. A seed had been planet in my mind. A desire that would later turn into a grand ambition and would once more reshape the course of my life in the years to come.
For now though, I was there. Enjoying the moment and looking forward to the rest of our days in Gran Canaria.
A few years before my decision to move to Denmark, during what I would call my years of stagnation, I had a strange dream. This was perhaps a year, or so after I had graduated from University in Romania. The plans I had fell apart and I was caught in a loop of waiting on other people’s promises. Waiting for some miracle opportunity to fall into my lap.
It was at this point that I had a dream where I seemingly met up with a divine figure. It had no visible face in the dream, just a human-like outline radiating light. In the dream I acted as if this was some great old buddy of mine from past times. I told the figure that things had been quite dull and bleak for a while, and then asked when will things pick up again? The figure then replied “2015”. Then the dream just faded away. I had had all sorts of fascinating, insightful and strange dreams before. But never did I get a response like that to a legitimate question. I didn’t dwell on it too much, but it did leave me with a renewed sense of hope that things will work themselves out.
Waking up to a winter morning in the Danish countryside
I certainly didn’t plan on things going the way they did, but 2015 did indeed end up being the year that changed everything for me. It was toward the end of 2015 that I recalled that old dream. Mostly because a few months before I had another interesting one. In this one I was climbing a steep hill at night in a dark forest. It wasn’t just me alone, there were a bunch of people around me all trying to climb up this hill. It was hard and I kept sliding back constantly. Finally, a tall, smiling, short gray-haired blue eyed man extended his hand and helped me reach the top. It felt like a nice wholesome dream and I didn’t think much more of it at the time.
Knowledge shock
Before I started my studies at KU, I had to choose my specialization. The University offered four options for Geoscientists. I was debating between two of these. One was a sedimentary rock specialization, which was focused towards the oil and gas branch of geology. The other one was is igneous rocks and geochemical processes. This would somewhat touch upon economic geology and the mining industry, but was mostly a purely research oriented path. I thought back to how much I enjoyed the igneous classes from my Bachelors days. Sedimentary I always found a bit dull, but I wanted to keep my options open for practical reasons. I ended up choosing the igneous specialization, but also signed up for the sedimentary classes for my optional courses.
Nordhavn (North port), Copenhagen, seen from somewhere up the north coast
It was the most practical decision. I would give both specs a chance in my first semester and then decide which one I will focus on later. Regarding the igneous specialization, the one thing that I somehow glossed over was the “Geochemistry” part of the title. I was terrible at geochemistry. Not only that, but I severely lacked any good basic chemistry foundation. The result of too many different teachers replacing each other in middle school and high school.
At the start of my first geochem-heavy course called “Core to crust”, my huge knowledge-gap was immediately obvious. I recall our first professor, Robert Frei, stared off the course by quickly scribbling down an equation on the board and just causally stating “Well, everyone knows the decay equation, so…” and he keeps on going. I took a look at this never seen before scribble and my immediate reaction was , “Woah woah woah! What’s “e”? Euler’s number. The mathematical constant “e” obviously. Everyone knows that, right? Yeah… “Right”.
A steep learning curve
The first three weeks of courses at KU were brutal. I was trying to understand. I was listening and focusing during classes more than ever before. But some of the stuff just seemed so advanced to me that it was impossible to understand. My head felt two sizes too big after each geochemistry class. The sedimentary classes on the other hand were way easier to grasp and follow. Yet as frustrating as the geochem class was, it kept challenging and intriguing me. The topics were fascinating and kept me engaged.
A rainy Østerbrogade in Coepnhagen, Denmark
It wasn’t until we had to work in groups and make a presentation based on a scientific article that I finally started getting it. After all my Danish colleagues formed their groups and picked their topics, the two foreigners, Nigel and myself teamed up to take the scraps. I don’t recall the exact topic of the article we got, but I know it took us two solid afternoons to chew through the material. Re-reading paragraphs dozens of times to try to understand what the heck the author is saying. Deciphering scientific sentences word for word at times. Then there were all these “alien” elements that I never heard of. Like Yb… Huh, Yb? Ybbibidium? What? How about Tb? Teletubium? Ugh…
We did our best to present what we learned. A big part of it just felt like the author arguing for some things while acknowledging that it could be this way, or that way, or another way. It turned out to be a great presentation. This was what our professor was trying to show us. How so many of these processes are still not well understood. Yet how researchers keep pushing to find different ingenious, indirect ways to make sense of what we can’t see, or directly measure. It was fine to not understand everything. You just had to continue persevering, asking questions and researching. There were never any wrong questions. Maybe just wrong answers.
Enter the smiling, gray-haired, blue-eyed man
One month in, I was feeling a lot more comfortable in classes. The geochemistry class had won me over. I was now keen on sticking with the igneous rock specialization. The next step was to find an Master’s thesis project and I didn’t want to waste any time. I asked my friend Jasper about any ideas of whom I could talk to. I told him I’d love to work on volcanoes and magmatic processes. He then told me a professor Paul-Martin Holm, who had a project in the Cape Verde islands. Incidentally he was going to present the second part of our geochem class, so I’d have the chance to meet him soon.
Somewhere on a farm in Ballerup, Denmark during winter 2015
There were a few rumors’ coming from some of my Danish colleagues that Paul Martin was this mean professor. That he was very demanding and harsh during exams. The class starts and in enters this smiling, kind looking, tall, gray-haired, blue-eyed Danish man. I didn’t think of it at the time, but in hindsight, he looked eerily similar to the man extending his helping hand in my hill-climbing dream.
The moment we took a break, I walked up to him and introduced myself. I mentioned that I had heard of a potential Cape Verde project he has and that I would be interested. He replied that sadly he already has another student for that project. However, he had this other geochemistry project in Argentina that would require a Master’s student if I’m interested.
Wow… Argentina?! Heck yeah I was interested! But the geochemistry part again… I told Paul Martin I had a severely week geochemistry background and wasn’t sure if it was wise to sign up for a geochem focused project. His reply was “But you can learn!”. Nobody could have given me a better answer in that moment. I felt challenged in the best way possible. I was given a golden opportunity here and it was time to show what I could do!
Just one little problem…
The Argentina project sounded incredible, but there was one little problem for me. It wasn’t entirely covered by Paul’s research funds, so the students would have to pay a portion of the expenses. This was highly problematic given my dubious financial standing at the time. Well, I still had time to find a better paying job, I thought. So, I accepted. This was around mid-October.
Fast-forward to December and how “well” my job-search was going. Add to that the SU-grant rejection and you can now imagine that I wasn’t in the most cheerful of holiday spirits.
A gloomy winter holiday
I had no plans for the school break. I was just sulking in temporary defeat.
At the same time an old high school friend from Romania, Vlad, was living and working on a farm in Ballerup, Denmark. He invited me over for Christmas dinner with him and the farm-owners. So I went over to pay him a visit. We ate and drank, talked and laughed. His employers were very nice people. They even gave me a gift. The topic of a job came up too. They weren’t really hiring, but I also couldn’t exactly take on a full-time farm-job half an hour away from Copenhagen either.
A Danish Christmas dinner prepared by my high school friend, master chef Vlad
Vlad was a good friend. A great friend. He did what he could in his old way to cheer me up. I felt bad for bringing down the mood, but I told him too that it was just a really shitty period for me. As always, I had to dredge through this on my own.
Despite the struggles, it was a wholesome end to a life-changing year
By the time December 31’st had rolled up, I felt I had enough time to recharge mentally. I spontaneously went out with a group of dorm-mates to have a few drinks in the chaotic streets of Copenhagen on New Years Eve. I hyped myself up and prepared for the next year. Determined to fix my financial issues, prove that I could stand on my own two feet and then succeed in my challenging academic pursuits!
On January 1’st 2016, I received the following email from David, the website owner I was writing for:
My last line of income was cut. I burst out into hysteric laughter.
About a month after my arrival in Copenhagen, Denmark, I was comfortably settling into my new life. I now had a solid group of friends, I had a good means of transportation and had become familiar with most of the city. I was also adapting to the steep learning curve at KU. However, time was ticking on my limited finances and the pressure was on to find a local job.
My accommodation was covered for half a year and I was earning a small wage through my online content writing job. This was enough to cover my monthly costs for now. Nevertheless, I had to find a better income to be able to survive long-term.
Statue of famous Danish writer Hans Christian Andersen in Rosenborg park, Copenhagen
I had begun asking around about jobs and grant opportunities within my new circle of friends and colleagues. I soon learned about the SU-system that all my fellow Danish students were on.
The SU-system
The Danish SU-system is a state educational grant and loan scheme for people over 18 following a youth educational system and students enrolled in a full-degree program of higher education.
It’s basically a significant government financial support system for all Danes enrolled in Universities across the country. Foreign students are technically not eligible for SU, unless they apply for equal status with Danish citizens. As always, this is easier if you come from an EU member country. You can read more details about applying for SU as a foreign student here.
My road to SU
I began looking into the SU eligibility as soon as I had heard of it. From my research, I found I had to have no other foreign educational support grants and show that my income was meager enough to merit financial aid. Then the SU-grant would be significant enough for me to cover all expenses. It seemed like the perfect solution to my financial problems.
Amazing mural in the courtyard of Sølvgades Elementary school, Copenhagen
The problem was that I had a foreign job with no tax contribution to the Danish state. The only way this could potentially work was for me to open a company in Denmark and register as self-employed. My English colleague and good friend, Nigel who had experience in registering businesses in Denmark helped me set up “Odyssian Translations”. A one-man translation and content-writing firm registered in Copenhagen, Denmark. I was now the official boss! The boss of me, myself and I.
Now I just had to ask the website owner I was writing for to kindly reword some things in our contract agreement so it would all fit with my new company name. He was kind enough to oblige. Of course now my minimal income diminished further because I had to start paying tax on it. Still, with everything in order, I could finally take my shot at applying for SU in November.
Ongoing job-search
Even though I was banking on the SU-grant coming through, I was still adamant on finding a local part-time job. Mostly because any job in Denmark would pay way more than the content-writing income I had. If I had enough time, I could even do both, I thought. So off I went to ask around for jobs.
My frequent bike trips through north-east Copenhagen helped clear my mind
Ideally I would have loved to get a student-job on campus, or maybe an internship at a company relevant to my field. These were ambitious “big balloon” dreams that were unlikely to materialize. The reasons being that these jobs would be limited and require some level of nepotism and, usually, Danish fluency.
The nepotism part really irked me, because I had just left a country where nepotism was the norm everywhere and I was completely fed up with it. I always dreamed of an ideal meritocratic system where one proves themselves objectively based on skill, action and experience. However, when one has little past work experience and there are dozens, or hundreds of similar applicants for one position, the hirer will most often take a subjective approach and choose the one that had been recommended by a friend/colleague.
The problem for me was that this simple reality was colliding with my “do it on my own” mentality. My whole job application process in those months was as much of an internal struggle as it was an external one.
Expanding, adapting
As time passed on and no sweet and easy jobs were coming along, I had to adapt and expand my approach. I had exhausted my options on campus and it was time to broaden the search. Since my main weakness was lack of Danish fluency, I thought to seek out jobs that shouldn’t require it. I began looking up lists of hostels, hotels and other such businesses that would mostly have foreign clients. To most of these I just sent out swarms of applications through online portals, or email. Some of them I went off to visit in person, hoping that the extra personal step could land me a brief talk with a hiring manager.
When all this didn’t seem to work, I stepped it up a notch. I began going from door to door to stores, gas stations, bicycle repair shops and other businesses around me. Whatever I could think of that may offer a part-time job.
Svanemøllen bike-shop where I got my flat-tires fixed up and also tried to get a part-time job later
This, together with my studies became my daily focus in the final months of 2015. As you can imagine, it wasn’t easy. Every rejection was a let down and just made me want to crawl back into bed and forget about all of it. I didn’t though. I simply couldn’t afford to.
In that regard, this multi-month period was quite similar to early 2015 when I had went through the same thing, but with university applications. I kept telling myself that if I had done it before, I can do it again! I was once more conditioning myself to become immune to rejections. The more you reject me the more aggressive I will become in my job search! That was the mentality I had adapted by the end.
The SU decision
Around late November/early December, I received a reply from the state regarding my SU application. It was rejected… The reasoning was absolutely ridiculous: my income was too low to be eligible for SU.
Gloomy, rainy walks in Nyhavn
So a grant meant to provide financial help for struggling students with low income actually had a cap on how low that income can be. Any lower and NOPE! No grant for you! You’re income is now so low that you don’t even register on our radars!
It was sad and frustrating… Everyone I talked to about it was equally dismayed. Yet there was nothing I could do. Even if I contested their decision, the result would be the same because of their rigid “box-mentality” rules. It was now very clear. I HAD to get a Danish job. That was the only way I would get the grant and survive my coming years. However, after a whole year of fighting and struggling, I was mentally exhausted by that point.
There was also another potential financial burden waiting for me the next year. This was related to my newly proposed Master’s thesis project. However, I will elaborate on this more in my next post.
