Undergraduate Admissions

This journal is an archive of the experiences of a UB student in the 2006-2007 school year; it’s no longer being updated.  If you’d like to read about some current UB students, please check out this year’s bloggers.

Well that’s it… I hope. If all goes well, soon I will be done with this thing called college. One more all nighter, then I have to somehow find my way to the airport at 4 in the morning to take a plane to France to compete in the Shell Eco-Marathon with my team from DTU. The car’s done. It’s beautiful. Carbon fiber body and everything. Looks a bit like a Porsche I think, just a bit smaller. You can find more info at the website I worked on: www.ecocar.dk.

(12 hours later… )

It’s about 4am my time. I just finished “designing” a ship, my last real work to do of my college career. I am packed for France and am at the moment drifting in and out of consciousness. As far as plans go, what I’m going to do with myself now that I’m done… I can’t really say. I’ve given myself a final date in Europe around the end of August, and until then I think I’m just going to relax a bit. Enjoy myself. Work, go to a friend’s wedding in June, take one final European vacation to Spain in August, and then home to family. Be an uncle, be a son, be a friend, be there. That’s all I’ve got.

A few months ago we had a team building event for my ecocar class. We went out to this go-cart track and raced for a couple of hours, then went out to a nice Italian restaurant. After a bit, someone suggested that we all introduce ourselves. The class is pretty much a big project where we work in teams on specific areas of the cars. Like this it’s hard to get to know everyone. But none-the-less we are a team. And the deal was that the introduction had to be in English… for yours truly. This may sound like a minor thing, but for me it was pretty touching.

Anyways, we started going around. You know, the normal student intro thing, year, major, all that. Then we get to the professor, Jesper. He gets up and starts talking about how back in the 70’s he was this big hippie who didn’t really know what he wanted to do. He said for some years he tried business, then a few years later he realized he didn’t like that and started studying biology. He couldn’t see a career for himself with bio, and one of his friends mentioned some engineering opportunity at DTU, so he tried that.

You know they pay you to go to school in Denmark? Your tuition is free and on top of that you get a certain amount each month to pay for food and a place to live. I think it’s like that with all the schools here. So god forbid you don’t know exactly what you want to do after a few years at the university, you can try something else without worrying about how the hell you’re going to pay for it.

I look back on my five years of college, three of them at UB, and there were three classes I truly enjoyed: film studies, badminton, and psychology. Those were the electives, the classes that I had extra time for and was lucky enough to have them fit in my busy schedule. Then there are the friends I’ve made over the years and am incredibly jealous of: photographers, philosophers, artists, writers, web designers, teachers. What I’m trying to say is I don’t want to be done learning. Yeah I could scour the internet for tutorials, check out books from the library, that sort of thing, but you know it’s not the same. There’s no interaction. It’s not the same as really being inspired by someone who loves what they do. I don’t want to stop going to school, but the fact is, my poor ass can’t pay for it.

And now I’m almost done, and what do I do? Oh what do I do. Apparently Denmark is the top tech country in the world now; a friend of mine just got a job with a starting salary of over $70,000 a year. But I can’t bring myself to apply for a job I don’t want.

So far I’ve got a part time job lined up working in the kitchen of this little restaurant on a beautiful lake. It’s a start at least, and should support my cooking addiction. We’ll see.

Note to those who care: I apologize for the lack of updates, but things are a bit difficult at the moment, and not just academics. For those who find the urge to read more of my ramblings, please see the unrelated and inappropriate posts at Passive Park.

That’s what it says on the side of Ungdomshuset (The Youth House) just outside of Copenhagen. Thursday morning, they got evicted, and it was not pleasant.

So what you’ve read, if anything, is that they’re left-wing squatters who’ve occupied the building since the early 80’s. The building got sold in 2000, and they’re kicking them out. That’s all BBC or CNN tell you.

Yeah, some ridiculousness has broken out in Denmark. The last time they got any international attention was with some political cartoons. That, they were proud of, this, they are not. So what’s the deal? Why does anyone care about these lazy, cheap hippies? Well to start, they have every right to be there: Indymedia. Part of a political compromise, that ended violence, promoted peace, made both sides happy. Damn, that makes sense. So for the past 25 years, the youth have been using it for what it was given to them for.

The only problem was that the local council held on to the property rights for them. And for whatever reason, in 2000 they decided to sell the rights to the highest bidder. Man, that’s crap. So, for the past six years, they’ve been trying to do something about it. They’ve talked with the politicians, and even agreed to move from that building if the city was willing to offer them somewhere else of equal condition and value. For whatever reason, they refused, saying that the youth would instead have to pay for it. Six years have passed with them fighting, peacefully, to work this out. Then in December, the group who purchased the building, ironically, some extremely conservative Christians, who are against nearly everything the youth stand for, have ordered them out.

In December, just before I left for the states, there was a large demonstration. And now, after the eviction, another.

Thursday afternoon, some friends told me of what happened, and I decided to walk down to see for myself. Let’s call it “cultural immersion”. I honestly did not know what to expect.

Not sure if demonstration is really the word for it. At first, everything was cool. Just a bunch of people hanging out by a fire. People were smiling and taking pictures, I saw a dog I wanted to pet. Then these huge police vans pulled through and the popo got out with riot gear on. Immediately everyone starting running, so I followed. Again, with my whole policy on public running with normal clothes, I wasn’t quite as speedy as the rest; that led a few badged gentlemen to give me some not so gentle shoves. As I backed away people began chanting something to the police. I asked someone to translate and he said it meant something like, “don’t touch us, this is our home”. Then people starting picking up cobblestones and bottles to throw at the cops. I did my best to separate myself from them.

Down the street people were already building another barricade and trying to set it on fire. The police decided to test the durability of their vans by being macho and driving though it. Afterwards, they started driving in circles announcing something in Danish. Someone was kind enough to tell me that they were threatening us with gas. Since I have plenty of my own, I opted not to stay any longer. When I got back home I found this video online that was taken the exact time that I was there.

Click here to see some more pictures.

Considering my proclivity for frugality, my basket equipped lady’s bike has been building up quite a few miles lately. School is a bit too far to walk, which means a nice forty minute ride in the morning, and another in the afternoon. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

But some days, or most, the weather gets pretty rough. Denmark is rainy and windy all winter. And we even get the occasional snow. That was the case last week. I was just getting over a cold, and then it got all frigid and snowy for my ride to school. In the morning there wasn’t too much, just some flurries, but by the afternoon, there was a good six inches covering everything. So beautiful. Yeah it’s not much compared to what I’ve seen in the news lately back home, but it’s still nice. Well, nice as long as you’re not biking.

I didn’t have a choice though, and honestly, I was kind of excited about it. Maybe it’s just the reckless teenager in me, but the idea of riding fast and losing control is more than moderately appealing. At first it wasn’t too bad, but then it started getting so that I couldn’t see. That sucked. Then the bike path wasn’t plowed and it was covered with ice, making it nearly impossible to ride on. For a while I had to ride on the sidewalk. Every once in a while I’d hit this rough spot and lose control. I imagine I looked like quite the ass. Towards the end of my ride, while trying to maneuver around a light post, my bike slipped out from under me a bit, and before I could catch it, I went right into a bush. It wouldn’t have been so bad, but there was this cute Danish girl walking right towards me as it happened. Ah well, she gave me a big smile when I got back on and road past. I smiled back, and then realized that I had an hours worth of frozen snot and ice in my halfbeard. But man is it worth it, such a great insulator.

And there’s no better feeling than getting home on a cold snowy afternoon and realizing that you don’t have to leave again till the next day.

Home

Wednesday night is garbage night. They come to pick it up Thursday morning. In Denmark, they put out more than just garbage. That means Guillermo and I put on our dankest sweat pants and play shopping spree hobo style. But since we’re both sick, the first night is limited to 20 minutes. In that short amount of time we brought back:

• Clothes hangers
• Microwave
• Scanner
• Fancy take apart cake pan
• Dish Drainer (there were actually two that would have worked but we took the new looking one)

Things of mention that were not gleefully taken:

• Mattress
• Foldable cot
• Computer monitor w/ keyboard
• Kitchen table
• Multiple shelf assemblies
• Toaster
• Mini refrigerator
• Large cuddly looking teddy bear

That’s all it takes apparently. That’s all it takes to fully move into an apartment in a foreign country.

It’s not as simple as you might think. You come to a country where you don’t speak the language, and you move into an empty apartment. Any belongings that didn’t fit in a hiking pack are thousands of miles away. We literally started with nothing. What was left from before was a fridge, a stove, and some small speakers screwed into the walls. After receiving some gifts from our friends in the containers, we were well on our way to glorious plates of pasta. So we had the whole eating issue secured at least. Really though, there wasn’t much else. Actually, they took all the lights out of the living room. Not just the lights, the sockets as well. You pull off this plastic plate and there are just wires; ones that don’t tickle if you forget to turn off the switch and complete the circuit with your fingers. Anyways, for about a week we functioned at night with candles.

Candles

So far, both times that I’ve flown to Denmark it hasn’t been easy. It’s not the long flight in a cramped seat. It’s not even the airport security that’s become so strangely sensual among other things. It’s something else. You know when you get so tired that you begin to romanticize about sleep, and being in a big comfy bed. Especially after traveling, you get to your destination with one thing on your mind. If it’s not home, you can compromise, a nap on grandma’s couch, or even a hotel room. You get so tired that you disregard how absolutely filthy the room must be. Hell, for frisbee tournaments we’d drive 10 hours through the night only to sleep 20 to a room. Even on the crusty floor, positioned between two snoring, farting teammates, I’d sleep like a baby.

But with Denmark, when I finally arrive, it’s never that simple. First semester, DTU’s oh so useless international office decided to postpone my check in for a day. And this time all I could think about was how impossible it’d be to move all my crap on a bike. As soon as I turn on my phone, I get these messages from Guillermo trying to explain where I could rent a car. It was the last thing I wanted to think about. As soon as I got to the apartment I used my dirty clothes as a bed and took a big long nap on the floor.

Later that night Frank drove us to the containers with his trailer. It took a half hour. It was nothing. He was more than happy to do it. I can’t imagine how much of a pain the whole ordeal would have been without him. Anyways, by the end of the night we were “home”. And with all of our belongings there, we look around at the dark dirty emptiness and think, we have a lot of work to do in the next few weeks. And with that, approaching midnight on a Tuesday, we take a short and wonderful ride to the city center for some pizza.

On the way back, nearly home, we spot something amazing and wonderful sitting out on the sidewalk: an elegant red couch and a nice round dining table. The two most coveted pieces of furniture, sitting on the side of the road free for anyone who has a car or whoever is desperate enough to try to carry it 800 meters. So for the moment, we set the pizza aside. About an hour later we are sitting on our nice new couch, eating pizza, and watching a movie.

Four days later, more furniture from a second hand store. Five days, a Peruvian dinner party. A week, light. Three weeks later, a Danish friend brings us to her grandma’s house. We go there with wine and fresh bread, come back with another couch, a huge entertainment center type thing without the place for a tv, one of those fancy stone tables, two closet dealies, all sorts of crap for the kitchen… we barely fit it all. We are now legally fully furnished. And then, yesterday, get this, I went and finally bought a comforter for my bed. I am no longer sleeping in a sleeping bag. I know it’s a bit luxurious for me, but hell, it’s my first apartment.

And There Was Light…

We did it cheap, we did it in style. When we’re away, we miss it. We’re married to it. After dinner we put our feet up and watch Top Chef, which is by the way one of the most addictive and amazing shows I’ve ever seen. But it’s become that cozy little place. Maybe it’s only my home for six months, but maybe, just maybe, I can land a job out here and figure out a way to stay. Damn that’d be nice.

If you know me at all you know my summers and breaks are all about uncling. Yo soy el tio orgulloso de tres sobrinos maravillosos. One little man, a prattling petit princess, and of course my hairy nephew. Sabre, the eldest, is doing well as usual. Elizabeth has turned into quite the garrulous little girl. She regularly speaks in no less than ten languages simultaneously, and has already familiarized herself with telephones. While home I got to see her transition to walking. It’s pretty exciting and cute. She gets this huge grin on her face right before she lets her legs give out to fall into you. She’s also the perfect size for tossing. Sometimes, a bit too high.

Elizabird

The little man Tyler just turned three. He’s now pretty properly potty trained, and with that is showcasing on demand the new and oh so stylish Diego underwear. At a holiday gathering, after innocently asking him what briefs he was bearing, in a courageous display he promptly drops his pants to check and with great enthusiasm replies, “Cars”! What a guy. Besides the twenty hour trip to Florida we got to spend a lot of time together. He’s really developed quite the personality. I brought a friend over for dinner one night and he was macking it up. Something I’d never seen him do. He kept bighting her with his shark and then during dinner he’d try to make everyone laugh and the whole time he’d stare at her out of the corner of his eyes. Though he may not have been so subtle, it was still a better approach than I’ve seen from many other guys my age. And I’ve got to give him credit for trying with a girl more than ten times his age.

All in all he’s a thoughtful guy. Whether through genuine and constant concern for “baby” or articulating the taste of a bitter, dry red wine as “bad like Sabre’s poopoo”, he’s got a lot going on in that little head.

Stinkin’ and Thinkin’

Oh the holidays are a wonderful time of year… as long as you’re not traveling. Not quite as bad as Denver, London only mustered up some “frozen fog”. Either way, 300,000 people or so got stuck, and it sucked. Surprisingly it was my first bad experience with airports.

I got there having been delayed two hours leaving Copenhagen, and naturally was in a rush to catch my flight to New York. At the gate, they ordered me down to wait in the customer service line. No big deal, I still had a chance. Then I got down and saw the people. Hundreds and hundreds of people. No way around it. The line moved maybe 15 fph. And I should have been going about 700 mph. I stood in line for literally over five hours. Three hours in they told us that there would be no flights to any European destinations. That aggravated a good number of people. In the end I barely made an empty flight to New York. The line was twice as long when I left.

After a four hour nap in terminal 3 of JFK, and hoping that a new day meant a new way, I approached the last leg with as positive an attitude as I could. Security made quick work of that. First, they decide that since I’m the first customer of the day, I deserve the full treatment. As I’m being gently molested by a gentlemen in a hat, another lady digs through my bag and finds a key chain/knife that I’ve been traveling with for five years or so. She says, “this is garbage” and is about to throw it away. I’m back to the check-in counter to check my ten ounce bag, and then through security again. Since they enjoyed it so much the first time, they figured they’d give it another go. If only I could enjoy the curious grabbing of a stranger.

Anyways, in the end I made it. I had been traveling for a straight 36 hours and the only money spent was on phone calls home. I guess I was luckier than the rest. I got home for Christmas and I managed some hot shots of London from the plane.

Foggy London

So I’ve attempted to update this blog a couple of time in the past weeks, but it hasn’t worked too well. First it doesn’t accept google video, then it decides it doesn’t like flickr either. So blame technology or lack there of. Or me, you could do that too.

I remember about this time last year I was soiling myself with stress over various deadlines and exams. It’s really no fun. I think it says somewhere in my contract that I’m suppose to offer some words of encouragement. So I’ll try… maybe it gets a bit better as years go by. Just maybe. Yeah, it’s a ton of work, but with a little luck it’ll be something you’re more interested in. Some examples:

Mechatronics, “centered on mechanics, electronics and computing which, combined, make possible the generation of simpler, more economical, reliable and versatile systems”. A big mix of things. A big mess of engineering disciplines all into one. It’s a headache, but it’s also quite fun. It also gives me free admission to an electronics lab where I have access to free parts to fix broken headphones, toasters, and computer plugs. Beyond that, it offers a somewhat interesting project to work on during this terrible time of the year: a climate control system for a prototype apartment. Where else but Denmark am I going to get the chance to play with Legos for a design project?