Attempting to define “hygge” in abroad experiences

In many parts of the world, locals would never stop and ask a foreign student, “Of all the places in the world, what made you decide to spend a semester in my country?”† Having completed about a third of the semester in Copenhagen, it seems that Danish people find the answer to this question enthralling.† I have yet to work up the guts required to tell the Danes, who pride themselves on a progressive social welfare system and an accompanying sense of egalitarianism, that I am intrigued by Denmark’s seemingly xenophobic immigration and integration policies.† Instead, I usually say simply that I came for the “hygge,”† a word that is unique to Danish culture and used to describe how the long time of year with very little sunlight in Denmark is spent.

No matter whom I ask, every self-respecting Dane is quick to affirm ñ in better English than my own ñ that hygge has no exact sister-word in English, but maybe “cozy” is a cousin word. Go ahead and search for it online; even Wikipedia will tell you that English speakers can’t fully comprehend hygge.† Of course, every time someone tells me this, I take it as a personal challenge to fully understand this elusive concept.

As my English-speaking mind grasps it, hygge is attained when an army of candles chase all of your irritations and worries into the cavernous ruffles of a fluffy woven blanket sheltering you and your friends.† But I think that hygge is even more than this.† I believe that hygge veils itself in many of the overlooked episodes of our days.† It is only later, when looking back into these ephemeral moments that extend themselves far into the fabric of everyday life, that we are able to uncover the hygge.

I live in a folkeh¯jskole in HumlebÊk.† A folkeh¯jskole is a school for Danes and international students† in their late teens or early twenties.† It focuses primarily on art and discussion and does not assign any form of homework or grades; perhaps it can most closely be related to the late-night discussions that occur in college common rooms.† Or my FYS.† Living in the folkeh¯jskole, I am frequently visited by this incognito hygge, and I am sure that it often passes unnoticed; however, I am able to unmask the hygge in certain moments.

During one of our first nights in HumlebÊk, I played the Danish equivalent of Apples to Apples in front of a hushed fire with a group of Danes.† The Danes would pause after each drawn card to translate the Danish for me.† At the time, I recognized the kindness and inclusiveness of this seemingly simple act but thought nothing more of the situation.† While preparing for my semester in Denmark, I was repeatedly warned of the Danes’ initial social reservation and coldness.† Looking back now, I realize that what made this experience so memorable is the unexpected friendliness and inclusiveness exhibited by the Danes. Every orientation speaker related Danes to a jar of ketchup, because when you first pick up a jar of ketchup and shake it, nothing comes out.† After enough shakes, though, the ketchup jar explodes and splatters more ketchup on your plate than you expected.† Going into the folkeh¯jskole with this attitude, I never expected the Danes to be so accomodating, and it astonished me when they were and created such a hyggelig atmosphere.

However, instances of hygge do not exist only in unexpected moments shared with strangers.† Drinking huge cartons of chocolate milk with friends while sitting on a fountain in the oldest square of Copenhagen is hygge.† Teaching English to Turkish youth immigrants and learning Danish and Turkish in return is hygge.† Sipping a lattÈ on a rooftop with your Danish class while hearing about your teacher’s public-access cooking show for kids and trying to weave the foreign-ness of the letters “Â,” “Ê,” and “¯” into your American throat is hygge.† Even trying to avoid stepping on slugs in slug forest during dusky walks home from the train station is hygge. And eventually, returning to Wooster and moving into my new room (hopefully in Babcock ñ ball’s in your court, ResLife), well, that will be hygge too.† Hej hej, Wooster! Vi ses i january!