The happiest country in the world

by Maria Belen Maidana (Argentina)

A leap into the unknown Denmark

“Why Denmark?”, everybody asked. I guess I was around 15 years old when I randomly found an article reading "Denmark: The happiest country in the world". That was all I needed to start an endless journey in my creative imagination. I studied English translation and interpretation and every day during the eternal wait I thought of different ways of achieving my ambitious plan: I was going to move to Denmark to live and work there for at least one year. I would learn some Danish and I would apply for a scholarship to study Cultural Mediation in London. My career studies had a lot to do with my future plans, I genuinely loved the idea of being the bridge between two different cultures, the means by which people could communicate. Two summers during those years of growing up and studying, I travelled to different countries in the Caribbean with my beloved family, which of course increased my interest and passion for travelling to the unknown and learning from different cultures. Once I finished my studies, the long-awaited day had arrived. The farewell was harder than I expected but nothing could change my mind. I gathered all the courage I had and got on a roller-coaster filled with mixed feelings. I was nostalgic for everything I left behind but eager for the coming future I had chosen. I was alone but with my own company. I arrived in Copenhagen and took the metro towards the room I had booked, in a neighbourhood named Amagerbro. The beautiful city around me looked like an old movie, with historical buildings and green parks. Canals and bridges, cobblestones filled with scattered bikes going all around. The names of the streets so unintelligible but full of meaning to my eyes. Copenhagen became my shelter, my home. Every person I met along my stay there taught me something that will prevail in my soul until my very last moment of existence. The Indian girl I lived with for a month and her delicious meals, my German friend and her family, who adopted me for 3 weeks as a daughter, the different roommates I came across and with whom I shared pleasant walks, intimate talks and secrets. I had the marvellous opportunity of travelling around. I flew to Italy, got to know the colourful narrow streets in Naples overflowed by smiles and friendly greetings. I crossed to Sorrento by boat, with the sun hitting my face and the wild wind messing up my hair. Sorrento offered the most wonderful sunsets, with the Mount Vesuvius posing like a mermaid coming out of the blue sea. From there, a ferry took me to Capri in the Tyrrhenian Sea. I still remember the elevated white villas, combined with the greenish trees and the pale stone hills. It was a paradise made of mountains, blue caves in the shore, colourful ports and cheerful residents and visitors. I also had the chance of flying to Germany. In Berlin I learned with my own eyes the history I had read in history books. I could feel the misery and the rests of a city which had been devastated by a cruel bloody war and that was still struggling to recover. I loved the way people turned the awful ruins into colourful and vivid reminders of what could never happen again. The avidly painted walls, the memorials, the engraved plates in the sidewalks signalling the places where people were kidnapped by the oppressive and murderous regime. There are so many stories, places and feelings I could narrate about that my life would not be long enough to recall them all. I would never get tired of remembering and reviving my time in Europe. I grew up in ways I cannot put into words. I met people I will never forget. Every path I took was a lesson in life and I know that I am not the same since I left. My journeys will keep changing me, and I cannot wait for my next adventure!