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.
In my previous blog posts I’ve mostly focused on my travel and adventure episodes from my young adulthood, which for me were the highlight of those years. However, I’ve also sporadically mentioned that these were not great years for me. Today, I wanted to briefly retell my story from those years and the life changing decision I was about to make, which also inspired the name of my blog.
After graduating from university, my dissatisfaction with my country and surroundings only grew with each passing year. Each trip abroad I was fortunate enough to go on, would only reinforce my desires to leave Romania behind more and more. For years I kept trying out various ways of finding work abroad, either through contacts, or constant job applications. Despite my efforts though, by 2014 it had become clear this wasn’t going to work.
I ended up working for a Romanian oil and gas exploration company in the south of the country. The job wasn’t easy and the pay was laughable. However, I tried to make the best of it and put on a positive attitude. That lasted about a couple of days into my first shift.
My “lovely” work site sometime in autumn 2014
Now I don’t want to get into the details of all of my gripes with the company and my time there, but suffice to say, this half-year stint only served to amplify my already highly negative feelings towards everything around me.
The winds of change
Finally, by the start of 2015, I had decided that I was going to try a new approach to leave. I was ready to go back to school and thus, began a personal campaign of relentless university applications across Europe. My main target country was Norway, which had left e tremendously positive impression on me when I visited it a couple of years prior. I’m pretty sure I sent out an application to every Norwegian university I could find. However, I was not going to limit myself to just one country. My war on stagnation had begun and my barrage of applications was going to blanket the continent!
My cat as I was telling him of my glorious plans to break free and escape
A couple of months into 2015, I parted ways with my employers in a fairly explosive telephone conversation. Although that unfortunate moment of emotional meltdown left a very bitter taste in my mouth and a dent in my wall, I also began feeling surprisingly relieved. Like some invisible chains shackling me down were starting to break. Within a few days I somehow managed to find a freelance writer gig for an upcoming travel-tourist website. Ironically the pay was almost similar to my previous shitty field job, while the work routine was incomparably better. This little job would end up being a life saver in the months to come.
A surprising outcome
Amid my application frenzy in early spring, friends and family sometimes pitched in with additional ideas for places I could try to apply to. One of them came from the most random of sources: a former work-colleague of my mom’s, who had a son that had moved to Denmark a few years earlier. I knew little to nothing of Denmark apart from its common history with and proximity to Norway. So I applied to a couple of Universities in Denmark too. Although my hopes and dreams still laid with Norway, I was going all in. Something surely had to work out!
As the application deadlines for each university went by, I began receiving the decisions day after day, rejection after rejection. I wasn’t phased anymore. “Reject me all you want, I will never give up!” – became my new attitude. A couple of weeks in, all of my Norwegian applications had been rejected. Yet in the email sea of hopelessness, two shining jewels emerged out of nowhere.
I made sure to re-read these emails multiple times to be certain I wasn’t misreading something, but the message was true and clear. My applications to the Masters programs at the University of Copenhagen and Aarhus in Denmark had been accepted.
