Sunday, September 23, 2012

There's a bear in there. And it's an alcoholic as well.


Credit:  http://www.flickr.com/photos/pvanderclock/6172082685/
This is the flag of Christiania. The three dots represent the three "i"s in the commune's name. 
"The objective of Christiania is to create a self-governing society whereby each and every individual holds themselves responsible over the wellbeing of the entire community. Our society is to be economically self-sustaining and, as such, our aspiration is to be steadfast in our conviction that psychological and physical destitution can be averted" 
- Mission Statement for Christiania, drafted in 1971

Christiana essentially Denmark's Nimbim, if Nimbin was located in Roma Street Parklands.
Credit:  http://www.taintedthoughts.com/archive/christiania/christiania_map.jpg
Seriously, it is less than 3km from the palace. 
It occupies two "islands" which used to form part of the fortification around the old town centre of Copenhagen and now is home to about 900 hippies free thinkers. In 1971, the military barracks on the islands had been abandoned for 3 years, so one man decided to move into a house just inside the barrier and wait for the police. The police never came. Soon, word had spread all over Europe that there was a place in Copenhagen that was "free", and so Christiania was born.

My first visit to Christiania was a couple of days after my arrival, and as I wandered through the ramshackle housing, dodging dogs, averting my gaze from near-naked people and acquainting myself to a whole new range of marijuana smells I had never even imagined existed, I was pretty underwhelmed by the whole situation. It quite literally seemed to be a bunch of misfits who were incapable of assimilating into modern society and so instead chose to live in quasi-poverty with only a drug-induced haze to distract them from their broader failings in life. I left Christiania fairly convinced that I would never return.

But alas, I am a sucker for guided tours, so when I heard that there was a guided tour of the "Freetown", taken by one of the locals, I couldn't resist the opportunity to get a little bit more insight into the eclectic commune.

Graffiti covers every visible surface. 
Our guide, I'm afraid I can't remember her name, was a very interesting lady. She was originally from the south of France (in a village in the Pyrenees), and moved to Christiania in 1975(ish) after hearing about it while at school in Paris. She also wasn't a spaced-out pothead which was what I was expecting. She is actually a "Psychotherapist" who works at the Health Room (the doctor's surgery, but it also has things like a psychotherapist, naturopath, acupuncturist and yoga instructors), but over the years has worked in the commune bakery, as well as in Copenhagen itself.

She says she was attracted to the "freedom" of Christiania, a point which I don't completely understand to be honest. The example she used was how easy it is to change jobs "in Christiania", whereas in France it is quite difficult. What I'm not sure she understood was that changing jobs isn't just a Christiania thing, it's a Denmark thing. I went to a lecture on the Danish economy on Monday and found out that the majority of people here change jobs every year due to the flexicurity system that operates throughout the entirety of the country. Hard drugs are banned in Christiania (following a "request" [attached to an eviction notice] from the Danish government in 1979, so the only illegal drug which you can use in Christiania is pot. You aren't allowed to carry a gun (or wear bulletproof clothing), which is also you know, illegal in broader Denmark. You aren't allowed private cars. You can't wear bikie gang emblems on clothing (following gang violence in the late 70s/early 80s). "Violence" is forbidden. So realistically, the big difference between Christiania and Copenhagen is that you're "allowed" to buy/use pot (but actually not really since pot is illegal to buy/sell/use in Denmark). I think that mostly what the people like about Christiania is not the absence of rules, but more being able to make your own rules. Even if those rules are pretty much exactly the same as the ones across the river, the people who are drawn to the Christiania lifestyle feel better about them because they "chose" to live with them. Personally, I'd just run for parliament and feel better about rules that way, but you know, if squatting in a military barracks is what floats your boat, go nuts.

The system of "government" in the commune is very interesting though. The area is separated into 14 districts, and each district has a representative who is a member of the community council. Once a month, all the districts have a meeting where they discuss local issues (including stuff like noisy neighbours and other domestic gripes), life and projects within the community (they have quite a lot of really interesting public projects for children and youths) and broader political issues. Attendance at meetings isn't compulsory, but if you aren't at the meetings, you don't have a say in how the issues are resolved. And on the note of resolving conflicts - they don't vote to decide how to act/react to things. Instead, they "discuss" the issue until a consensus is reached.

One of the original military buildings that has been taken over 
They also rely quite a lot on women in the community to handle dispute resolution. For example, in the early years of Christiania the drug dealers would camp out right at the gates to the community and harass tourists as they came into the area. The community decided to close that particular gate to prevent any further incidents, but simultaneously the women would go and sit with the drug pushers at the gates and tell them about the Christianite Ideals and what the community was about. After a few months/years of this conversation, they then marked out a particular region of the commune that the drug dealers were allowed to operate in. And the drug dealers complied.

Similarly, when bikie gang violence was an issue (leading to the "no bikie gang colours" rule), it was the women who went to the gangs and again, told them about the community ideals and expectations, and then asked the bikies to leave. Which the bikies did.

Our guide said that this is the norm in Christiania - women are in charge of much of the "important" discussions and conflict resolution, in her words "because we like to talk so much".

Although women have a powerful role, there is still a strong sense of community action when the rules are broken. If a fight breaks out in Christiania, community members automatically assemble on the scene (and apparently to have at least 100 community members attending isn't unusual) and justice is administered "on the spot". Unless the crime is serious (meaning someone's pretty much died), the community decides on guilt and penalty. For outsiders, the penalty is often expulsion from Christiania for a set period (it can be days, weeks, months or even forever). For insiders, the process is a bit more complicated and involves the entire community coming together to discuss what the appropriate penalty should be, the worst possible penalty is expulsion from the community.

Yes, you can be kicked out of your home in Christiania for breaking the rules.

That's because further development of the Christiania area is forbidden by the Copenhagen council, and there is a waiting list to get in. People in the community do not own their houses, and all rent is paid to the central town council. When someone dies or moves out, their house is left vacant for a period, and then a notice is circulated in the local paper calling for new tenants to apply. The prospective tenants must then attend an "interview" in front of the entire community who will then decide who gets to move in. There are about 70-90 applications for each vacant house.

A house in Christiania. 
The taxation situation is also quite interesting (a sentence that I never thought would come out of my mouth/keyboard). I could be wrong, but I think that each person in Christiania pays rent + a fee to the central council, who then pays the taxes for the community. Businesses that operate within the community pay taxes to both the community and to the Danish authorities, or alternatively, there are several subsidised businesses within the town (such as a recycling business) that are funded by the town council, and thus don't pay taxes at all (I think that's how it works). There are quite a few businesses operating within Christiania, including restaurants, a cinema, several bike shops (in fact, a "Christiania Bike" - a bike with a crate on front that can fit any number of small children in it, is very popular among young families), lots of artist's galleries and an antique oven restoration business (that sells their ovens all over Europe).

Credit:  http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2197/1566479253_59bd54c8e8.jpg
A Christiania bike.
Carrying 4 children. Seriously, the things are like clown cars! Kids just keep piling out of them. 

More recently, the Christianites have bought the land their community is built on at a cost of approximately 76 million kronor (for those playing at home $12,668,364 AUD). The funds have come from the community council and the fees paid by the residents, but mostly it has come from a hefty bank loan, and folkeaktie (social shares which are bought by people all over the world - kind of like buying a Lordship from Sealand, or 1m2 of the British Isles). While this means that the community will get some more rights in relation to the land (particularly, they are hoping to build more houses) it also means that they will be paying a lot more taxes to the government, so the rent of all the houses will be increased. It'll be interesting to see how the area develops in the next few years, and whether the expense of living within the commune will see the original residents being forced out. If you're interested, this is a great article about the sale of Christianian, and also the normalisation policies of the Danish government - http://world.time.com/2012/06/28/christiania-the-free-town-that-is-about-to-be-sold/

Vines on a building. 
While living in a world that looks like The Wind and the Willows and the Drug Addicts isn't exactly my cup of tea and I can't say that I'll be frequenting Christiania, I doubt that it will be far from my thoughts for the next couple of days. Maybe it's the second-hand marijuana smoke, or there were some special herbs in my falafel, but wandering around the commune has gotten me thinking about whether legalising drugs really is a better tactic (both from a public health and law enforcement perspective - certainly Christiania is far from free from the hands of the bikie gangs [albeit plain-clothed bikers] that control the drugs trade within its walls) and the nature of rules, freedoms and responsibilities within society.

Seriously, it's like something out of Wind and the Willows!
Just with more drugs. 
This reinforces how the Christianites see themselves - as an autonomous collective, completely separate from the rest of Europe. 


*for those wondering about the title. Our guide old us that the people of Christiania, being "free", don't really believe in like, customs, and so tend to have exotic pets. One of these pets was a bear. The bear had a Danish girls name with a double "ee" (our guide couldn't quite remember what it was), and for the most part just walked around next to her owner wearing a tutu and being un-bear-ably adorable. Then the bear acquired a taste for alcohol and started to swipe beer from people as she went walking. And then she started breaking into people's houses to get to the beer. And then she mauled a man.

The bear was evicted from Christiania.

Where does an exiled alcoholic bear go? Good question. The Copenhagen Zoo apparently wasn't interested. Our guide said that she thinks the bear and her owner now live in an apartment not too far away. Fun fact, apparently you can force a man-mauling bear into the boot of an ordinary-sized family car. Good to know, good to know.




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