The lesson of the Danish language

I always liked learning languages. I’m not saying I’m too good at it, but not the worst either. It is therefore a bit of a disappointment that I’m back in Denmark where all the fun of looking around like an idiot (and that comes naturally for me and fits all the occasions and reasons) because you don’t understand a single word has passed for me in this country. For the pure sake of fun I still attend the language classes. It wasn’t supposed to be for fun. I was naïve enough to think it might be of some use. I might come to remember some grammar again and maybe would get some work to do that is above “Hej, hvordan går det?” (Hello, how are you?), but in this sentence I’ve already been wrong for many times. First- it is impossible to understand the grammar as we are jumping around the verbs, articles, prepositions and possessive pronouns like kangaroos having no connections made between them and as I understand what the teacher says and I understand what is written on the paper I should get the point, but NOPE, my little brain got confused and my fellow country people went over for other cultural activities- chatting to each other. Second- it is impossible to get some motivating tasks above that greeting, because guess what- our teacher never taught that part! We have no idea about how to present ourselves in the simplest way of being able to say name, age, nationality and why not something about the things we like and dislike? But that is probably too clear and practical and we could even use it, so it is safer to keep us away from this information.
Instead we are dealing to perfection with the pronunciation of the vowels- something that I first got at the advanced course of Danish when I lived here before. And all this goes through a humor-prism that remains not understandable for a bunch of Eastern Europeans. Japanese are a bit easier; they have politeness in them, in genes probably. But the incident of this Friday was just amazing. I had to fight with myself not to die in laughter. We were “explained” different prepositions of the language, clearly unprepared… but for such a professional teacher preparation of classes is probably overestimated and there is no doubt- He does speak Danish, was speaking it already when he was two-three years old, so how hard can it be, right?! Anyway we went through the list of them, having a complete mess on the blackboard, getting almost no examples besides “on the table” and “under the table” and we reached to prepositions “bag” and “bag ved”. Our sweet Japanese girl asked for the difference of these two. The Teacher gave a long “Mmmmmm…”, tried to make face of a know-it-all, but it didn’t help and the girl gave him no more time, just stated the fact “You don’t know.” I seriously thought these will be my last moments alive. Trying to keep quiet, I was catching my breath, making all weird squeaking sounds you can imagine and thought of all sad moments in my life to calm down. The lesson finished, sun came out and I was ready to sing my heart out- yep my next class was singing.