“Where are you from?”
This is a typical way of breaking the ice among solo travellers. I get asked the question up to 10 times a day.
“From Norway.”
“From Norway? No way.”
Norwegians do ask too, but not nearly as often. Although everyone sees in colour, asking a stranger about their heritage is considered…
Me: Have you ever done cybersex?
Him: If it’s essentially getting freaky on FaceTime, then yes. You?
Me: Nope.
Him: You swear?
Me: Oh, shit. Maybe.
My Hinge match is a year older than me. I’m 23. He has 6’4 worth of body to snuggle up with – his words when I said I was…
“You are a woman. And you are from...” the first man said.
“Norway,” I said to correct what I assumed to be his assumption of my origin. I had done this before, because most people do not grasp how an Indonesian-Norwegian traveller can be travelling. This was not this day and trip’s problem though.
“Yes,…
It was on a winter afternoon, during a stroll through the aesthetic architecture that Copenhagen is known for, that an impulse to cultivate myself with knowledge about an alien cult struck me. Gold typography that read Scientologi Kirken Danmark (Church of Scientology Denmark) glistened before my eyes. I stepped in to look.
Before me unfolded…