We had about a twenty minute drive to our next place, another re-acquaintance with a fondly remembered gig. Mette and Børger (the best we can manage is 'bower', but it's not right) are musicians who run what amounts to a folk club on their beautiful rural property which they call Café Ellegaard (elle-gaww).
A word about the language: Danish has 29 letters in its alphabet, all of ours plus Ø, Æ and Å. Which is fascinating because they never use Q, it just sits there keeping P and R apart, G is seldom pronounced and D is the very softest 'th'. In fact consonants are generally eschewed in speech but applied liberally in text. The spoken language is a stream of vowel sounds with many variations too subtle for us to reproduce with any consistency. Add to this the many regional variations and it's a wonder anyone bothers to learn it. The sounds are really important though. In English or Maori, if someone mispronounces a word, even badly, you'd probably know what they meant. In Denmark you can say words as carefully and clearly as you like, and they really don't have a clue what you're saying until you point to the text. And there's a problem too, with literacy among young Danes for the very reason that written text seems to bear little relationship to how they speak. Although the language is very old, how it is written is decided by an official committee on an ongoing basis. Sometimes it looks like a language that's been designed by committee (they say a camel is a horse designed by committee).
The last time we played in Cafe Ellegaard, Børger and Mette started the evening by leading the audience in song. They did so this time too but on that first occasion, as they all sang from austere-looking, blue-covered tomes that were distributed among the tables, the songs were called by number and they intoned them with quiet reverence, we assumed that we were in the presence of a religious community at worship. We toned down our act accordingly. We found out later that this was not the case at all; the book was a popular collection of Danish folk songs and it was common in the South to sing them at such gatherings. Because of their historically uneasy relationship with Germany (the borders have moved about a bit over the last few centuries) there is a quiet patriotism among Danes, especially in the South. This is further evidenced by the ever-present Danish flags that adorn everything from bollards to birthday cakes (ever tried blowing out a flag?). Every house in Denmark has a flagpole. Flags are raised for birthdays and graduations and lowered to half mast for deaths and loosing at football.
Last time also, we noticed a sign that clearly said 'No Smoking'. Yay, we said. That's just a joke, Børger said. This time, however, it really was a non-smoking gig; our first in Denmark!
Børger and Mette are amazing; their house is full of activity and music and every Wednesday they hold a concert in the converted cow byre that is now Café Ellegaard. Not only that, but Mette produces a meal for the entire audience from her own kitchen with, we note eagerly, coffee and cake at half time! They start and finish the concert with songs from the blue book and have even released a CD called Onsdag 19:30.
It's a wonderful thing to hear a room full of people singing the songs they love with simple pride and no embarrassment. We grab a book and try to sing along, much to their amusement. Nothing is too far from anywhere in Denmark and Hans and Karen have come from Haderslev to see us here too. We had another round of fond goodbyes but we would see them one more time before we left the country.
The Chaps are Hyram Ballard, John Dodd, Marcus Turner and Mike Moroney (the author of these pages), an acoustic string band featuring original songs and odd material from last century. Find out more about The Chaps here and listen to some of their music on their MySpace site here