I met Sara one evening in the hallway of Solvgade. She meowed at my back. She thought I was her friend, and I thought there was a cat behind me. All hijabis sort of look the same from the back—we get to say that because we are hijabis. It was a meet-cute. A couple of days later, I recognized her name on the media team list for videographers, and she recognized mine. While I was busy overthinking a funny icebreaker to text her, she had already messaged me first. I was relieved

I come from the Georgetown campus in Qatar, where most students who choose to study abroad usually go either to Georgetown’s main campus in Washington, D.C., or to the Georgetown Villa in Fiesole. This semester, I was the only student from my campus who came to DIS in Copenhagen. When I first arrived, the only people I knew were a couple of DIS students I had briefly chatted with online. Being “the only one” can sometimes feel intimidating and lonely. But at the same time, it

People arrive at their semester abroad with ambitious travel plans and an I’m-going-to-see-it-all mindset. I definitely did. Now, as the semester comes to an end, I’ve realized that besides Denmark, I’ve visited 10 countries and 18 cities. Some trips were solo adventures, others were with friends I met in Copenhagen or friends studying abroad elsewhere. Some plans were spontaneous; others had been sitting in my calendar since December. I alternated between trains and planes,

There is something deeply disorienting about being away from home when something is happening to it. Not just distance in kilometers, but distance in experience. I was in Copenhagen when my home campus shut down. Classes moved online. The building closed. Messages from administration started arriving in my inbox—measured, careful, trying to hold together a sense of calm while everything felt uncertain. We have been living under a sky where calm and storm share the same horiz

Volunteering during a study abroad semester is often framed as a “nice addition”—something you do if you have extra time, or something that looks good on a CV. For me, it became something else entirely. It was a way to understand the city beyond lecture halls, to engage with the very issues I was studying, and, perhaps most importantly, to feel grounded in a place that initially felt unfamiliar. During my semester in Copenhagen, I volunteered—irregularly, imperfectly—with two

It happened in a moment so brief I could have missed it. I was standing at Parea on the island of Lesvos, speaking in Arabic with one of the refugees there. I was explaining—somewhat awkwardly—what I, an Egyptian student, was doing there with a group of American classmates studying International Refugee Law. As we spoke, another man walked by. “He is also from Gaza,” Mohamed told me. Then, pointing at me, he added with a smile, “She is from Egypt.” The man looked at me for a

One of my favorite activities in Copenhagen has been study spot hunting . It’s a habit I developed back home, and I wanted to carry it with me as a way of getting to know the city through a different lens. Where you study shapes how you experience a place, and in many ways, these spots have become my own map of Copenhagen. This blog is a running review of the places I’ve tried—and I’ll keep updating it as I discover more. Nørrebro Library This is probably my favorite study sp

Studying abroad with DIS extends far beyond the classroom. While seminars and readings provide critical frameworks, the city itself becomes an equally important site of learning. Copenhagen offers countless opportunities to engage with ideas in lived, tangible ways, through art, film, and community spaces. Whether stepping into a gallery, attending a film festival, or volunteering with local organizations, these experiences deepen and challenge what we learn academically, all

A few days ago, I had a realization: I’m not handling my finances as well as I thought I was. In thinking about it, I also realized that I’m probably not the only one. So I decided to monitor my spending habits for the past week to become a more conscious spender—and to write this blog about some small practices that have helped me become a bit more financially efficient. Coffee Because it’s Ramadan and I’m fasting, it was actually easier for me to control my spending on coff

Last weekend, I booked a spontaneous trip to Antwerp. It was last minute, slightly impulsive, and completely out of my comfort zone. I’ve never traveled solo purely for tourism before, so this felt new in a way that surprised me. I’m also deeply aware of how lucky we are to live in a place like Copenhagen, where hopping on a short flight or train can land you in another country within hours. That kind of mobility is a privilege, and I don’t take it for granted. What I didn’t

Ramadan in Copenhagen feels quieter than the Ramadans I know. Not quieter in the sense of silence, there are still trains, bikes, gray skies, and long walks, but quieter in the way the month settles inside you when you’re far from home. Ramadan has always been communal and family-oriented for me: shared iftars, crowded tables, familiar rituals that repeat themselves without effort. Here, that structure isn’t waiting for me. And that absence can sting. Homesickness shows up mo

Whenever I feel a little homesick, I don’t call home right away. Instead, I go looking for more spices. For me, that usually means starting my day at Send More Spices in Nørrebro. It’s where I come to study, people-watch, and feel quietly held by the space around me. I’ll sit there for hours with my laptop, pretending I’m being productive while really soaking in the atmosphere—the sound of different languages floating through the room, the smell of cumin and cardamom, the st

The moment I stepped outside the airport, with the cold wind hitting my face, I knew I was not built for this weather. I had logically known Copenhagen would be colder than Egypt. Emotionally? Completely different story. The only solution, of course, was layers. As many layers as possible. Still, the cold made everything feel unfamiliar, like my body hadn’t agreed to this life decision yet. So here are the things I did over the past two weeks to slowly feel more in place; not

I grew up in a small town between Egypt’s two megacities: Cairo and Alexandria. Between Cairo’s Nile, carrying layers of history, and Alexandria’s Mediterranean breeze and Greco-Roman echoes, I learned to love cities shaped by water. I am drawn to places where water is impossible to ignore, where it shapes the air, the people, the pace of life. I imagine Copenhagen through that lens: the canals, the wind, the way movement feels lighter there. It’s when I feel most alive. I al