It was 1971, to be precise, when a group of young romantic optimists called squatting rights on an abandoned army barracks that lie mere blocks away from the parliament building. Their aim? To create a radical new settlement that disentangled itself from the Danish government. Essentially, the new tenants could indulge in free love, experiment with all manner of drugs, and practice alternative lifestyles in a haven that was not tied to the same laws as the rest of the country. That's right: alternative living, natural experimentation, openness of the soul, and the taste of freedom. Pretty much everything that I love and everything I want the sustainability movement to be.
Why did the government allow this? May I remind you that it was the seventies, a time when people threw sensibleness in the air and embraced difference. This was a time for flowers on your head and the perfect embrace of everyone's weirdness. The Danish government allowed it to serve as a social experiment where new forms of living could be explored in an insulated bubble. Since then, the fascination with Christiania has exploded in both good and bad ways. And I do mean exploded. To the 3-day tourist and fraty study abroad students it has become a symbol for smoking weed openly with the great vibes of artsy environments. To the people living there is a symbol for back-to-the-land principles, community living, and organic societal structures. For the Danes it is the representation of freedom, the actual beacon of hope from the welfare system. It's a getaway, its a haven for progressive, youth culture, and more so it's an ode to nature. To environmentalist in Europe it is their enclave. And to architects looking to experiment with hut-housing styles it is an inspiration. Christiania is perhaps the #1 attraction and one of the hippest places in the city. People want to live there. There are police raids. There are protests about it. There is drugs. There is music. There is graffiti. Christiania is unique.
My first experience in Christiania was with my friend Rachel. After a school field study of a building close to the Architecture school in Christianhvn we decided to grab our bikes and venture into Christiania once and for all. My Host Dad had talked about it, some of my class mates had already gone, and I was only left with the fantastical stories about a commune reminiscent of the Garden of Eden. When you enter you go through gates and you can really get a sense that you are leaving Copenhagen and the EU. Everything is so different inside. Nothing seems planned, everything is conglomerated into organic form and human nature. The main attraction is Pusher street, where there are vendors selling weed. Coming from America where the weed transaction is as sketchy as prostitution and murder, being in an environment so openly herbal was surprisingly uncomfortable. I mean, it's there, in your face. When we went there hadn't been any police raids so the vendors were fair-style on wooden booths selling a wide selection of all your cannabis fix. I couldn't look at anyone in the face, there is tension without there being any. I felt anxious. A product of different cultures. After the raids there were merely camouflage meshing put over booths which gave them an even more odd festive quality... and that is the extent to which the tourist is willing to explore Christiania for. This experience of an open "state within a state" is so amusing and titillating. There are gathering spots and many hangout spaces where people clearly hang after their.... purchases. I wish I could show you but you are in bad luck, there are no pictures allowed. You will have to go and explore the wonder on your own. It's not like you will be disappointing anyways.
While that environment of open drug use is definitely different and exciting, the qualities of the town are so unique to me and much more relevant that drug culture. Many times I would just wander around the place discovering all sort of perfect relationships: communal gardens and courtyards, beautiful sweeps of nature, interesting experimental architecture, not a car in sight, and the over all organic development of people who care about their neighborhood. One time when my friend Isabella stayed with me for a couple of days on her last moments in the city we went to the grocery store and had a picnic in Christiania overlooking the water. For my birthday we went here with my friends to hang out.