Fitting in is overrated

The song for today: Fladt Land - Pato Siebenhaar feat. Danni Toma. I'll explain why below...

Yesterday was a big day for me and safety.

While I was waiting for my dear friend Lotta to meet me at a museum I finally found a bike shop with helmets in my size. It's been no trouble locating tiny helmets decked out with dinosaurs and super scary monsters or princesses but the adult set has been a bit more elusive.... it's fair to say that the vast majority of adult Copenhageners don't wear a helmet when they bike. And if they do it's black or brown... and maybe the occasional blue. I was planning on fitting in but that's just not worth my time AND ultimately futile so I got a vibrant turquoise helmet. In the cool Copenhagen style though. I also got some heavy-duty magnetic activated bike lights. Seeing as the helmet is bright enough to act as a third light and I also have two reflectors on my wheels... I think it's fair to say that the streets of Copenhagen are safer today.

A photo of me at the CPH history museum WITH my fancy new helmet.

For months now I have been trying to remind myself to go see Copenhagen museums because it's easy to forget they're there once you move to a place. During exams I made a list of must-see museums and all their free entrance days to keep me motivated through studying (nerd alert!!! yesss!). First stop, the Museum of Copenhagen. I was pleasantly surprised to find out that a third of the museum is dedicated to the theme of "Becoming a Copenhagener" - the history of immigration, cosmopolitanism and identity politics in Copenhagen. Not like I'm interested in that enough to do a two-year masters program related to it or anything. The exhibit has been up since November 2010 and will be around through the end of 2012. From Lotta's perspective even having an exhibit in an official museum that acknowledged and explored immigrant experiences and multiculturalism was a striking difference from what one would find in Helsinki. Lotta has worked as a social worker with refugee communities in Helsinki, particularly the Somali diaspora. As always I love getting her broader perspective on the Scandinavian/Nordic context.

Photo slideshow: Wanted and unwanted immigrants to Copenhagen

A theme that surface continually throughout the displays was the sense that non-ethnic Danes often feel unable to be "Danish" but readily identify as Copenhageners. And indeed I could see myself feeling like a Copenhagener after a couple years here - it's a very open city in many ways - but I would never feel like a Dane no matter how blond I am and how permanent the visa in my passport claimed my stay was. Part of the exhibit included a little area where you could write down what brought you to Copenhagen and add to a collage on the wall. I waxed eloquent for quite some time. Ha! Before the museum yesterday I was meeting with my project partner at a library and we ran into a friend of hers who is from Seattle! He asked what I was up to here and one of the first things we started talking about was visas... shop talk? We eventually realized that we're not only fro the same area, but he had my Uncle Ralph for a math teacher at Garfield High School. He recalled a couple bars from the song some friends of his in a band made about "Mr. Minor". Surreal.

Speaking with a dear friend from the the HIA program this summer, Kashay, last night got me fired up to write about all of this... she is interested in minority experiences in Europe - particularly the concept of "blackness" as an identifier. I think she's really on to something - especially in Scandinavia - when she notices that the dialog is so dominated by ideas of the clash of Islam and Christianity, the Muslim other that the experiences and potential point of prideful collective identity around blackness is much less visible. I'm excited to see where her thoughts and interests take her on this one.

"Fladt Land" is off Pato's first Danish-language album. As such, he decided to play with the idea of being Danish - what it means or could mean, who is included and excluded, how to be a part of making the Denmark he wants. The song takes inspiration from Gi' Mig Danmark Tilbage (Give Me Denmark Back), Natasja's hit single that busted wide open the idea of Denmark belonging to any one ethnicity. She was born and raised in Denmark to a Danish mother and Sudanese father and became a beacon for political activism and Danish music. About "Fladt Land, Pato says that he wanted to acknowledge first that no one needed to give Denmark "back" to him because it was never taken away, it was always assumed that as an ethnic Danes, Denmark was his. He talks about growing up with hi grandmas, coming into the world in a public/community hospital, eating rød grod med flød. One of the lines is "I was born in the open sandwich nation". hahaha... I won't claim to understand all of it but he is speaking clearly enough to catch the main idea. The big refrain is - no matter what if you're a Dane you were born in a flat land. The featured guy, Danni Toma, was raised in Aalborg by a Danish mother and Palestinian father - he's younger, closer to my age. He says you're kidding yourself if you think being Danish is just about eating rød grod med flød and that Danish politics can be embarrassing but he loves his country because he has his base there, it's his place. The thing about "amerikansk" - he says he finds it bizarre how they're gone from Danish to American values - meaning, not into equality.

Hahahha...

Hej hej for now... i'm off to take some photos of the world, it's a beautiful day.

Janteloven... as told by two Norwegians, a Finn and an American:

As part of my thesis this past spring I did some research into Janteloven, "Jante's Law", which is essentially a code of conduct and pattern of group behavior in Scandinavia centered around the idea that nobody is superior to anybody else. The "laws" were originally set down by Danish (or so I thought until this afternoon) author Aksel Sandemose in his 1933 novel, En flyktning krysser sitt spor, "A fugitive crosses his tracks". He didn't at all invent the term or pattern but merely described, somewhat satirically, the Danish village of Jante in which everyone lived by these 'commandments'.

Mr. Aksel Sandemose himself

The rules state (translation courtesy of Wikipedia):

        1.       You are not to think you're anything special.

               2.     You are not to think you're as good as us.

               3.     You are not to think you're smarter than us.

               4.     You are not to convince yourself that you're better than us.

               5.      You are not to think you know more than us.

               6.    You are not to think you are more important than us.

               7.     You are not to think you are good at anything.

               8.     You are not to laugh at us.

               9.     You are not to think anyone cares about you.

               10.  You are not to think you can teach us anything.

An eleventh rule recognized in the novel is:
         11.  You are not to think that there aren't a few things we know about you.

We’re all studying for the exams now (I’m finally out in the world among the people, mostly healthy!!!). During a break just a bit ago we started joking around about the Scandinavian panopticon because yeah, I make friends with that sort of crowd. Hege mentioned something about Janteloven and they turned to me to explain it but I knew about it from my thesis on Danish nationalism. Lotta said something like, “Oh really? Because the author was Swedish.” Hege and I then simultaneously insisted that he was Norwegian / Danish. Ohhh national identity, at it again.

Turns out we were all a little bit wrong – though Lotta was the wrongest ;). Aksel Sandemose was half Danish, half Norwegian. Grew up in Denmark and moved to Norway, but the town of “Jante” was technically placed somewhere in Jutland. Hege and our friend Mari, who is Norwegian and has lived in Copenhagen for the past four years, were completely shocked…. apparently in Norwegian they think of Janteloven as a Norwegian concept. We then launched into a conversation about Janteloven in their lives which was, for me, highly entertaining.

Lotta on advice she received from professors about how to get a job:  "You need to get over Jantelagen!"   (that's the Swedish spelling)

On online profiles/personalities:

Mari: “I don't want people to think I'm indirectly saying something good about myself on facebook so I have to be careful what I post."

Lotta: "I have to be careful when I’m writing on my blog – even having a blog could be bragging - I know my mother is reading it... so can't brag!"

Hege on how American talk about their physical appearance: “You can't say that you think you're beautiful - can't say it out loud."

Ohhhh Aksel, causing an international sensation in the 21st century....

Danish baby wizards

My life has been somewhat of a time warp the last week. Since I've been sick I can count the number of times I've left the apartment (three) and streets I've walked on (two). So I've had time to crawl through my roommate's dvd collection and listen to the entire 20 hour Jim Dale-narrated Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.... and well into the Half-Blood Prince. This thorough look through HP has afforded a fresh perspective on Danish society, because why not!

Here's what I've got: "balance bikes" are for Danish society what toy broomsticks are to Harry Potter society. Both literal and metaphorical training wheels for life.

Toy broomsticks, which allow a young witch or wizard to fly very slowly only about two feet off the ground, were first mentioned in a letter written by Lily Potter to Sirius Black thanking him for the toy broomstick that he sent to Harry for his first birthday. In book four Ron and Harry pass two little witches playing on two broomsticks while walking about the campgrounds at the Quidditch World Cup.... a passing ministry approaches the scene, muttering to themselves, "In broad daylight! Parents having a lie-in I suppose...". The little Danish balance-bikes are so utterly normal here and so utterly interesting to me. Essentially rather than training wheels or pedals the kids push themselves along. So they're less likely to fall and more likely to practice their balance than on, say, a tricycle. 

I relish watching little kids scurry along after their parents on their "balance bikes" because it is so utterly clear that they are practicing their version of how it is normal to live life.... with a bike. Just like the little wizard babies! We all have a normal, whether or not we admit.

THEN I get to thinking (no I'm not dropping the metaphor yet) - I'm a Muggle born to Danish society. And there's nothing wrong with that! I will never be a pure-blood, but that shouldn't exclude me or mark me as lesser.... and if we want to bring back in the baby broomstick. I did not ride around on baby balance bikes as a wee kiddo.... but I'm fine biking. Some of my Danish friends might beg to differ, but I'm learning! Just like Hermione and Harry didn't grow up playing with toy broomsticks (apart from the one Sirius gave him until he was one) - but there's nothing less magical about them. So of course then I have to start thinking about integration, immigration, assimilation.... what model is Harry Potter really bringing forth? Seems pretty assimilationist actually - it's not like Hermione gets to bring in her life from the Muggle world more than the occasional mention of floss and dentistry since her parents are dentists. They only appear rarely in the series. But then again one of the most marvelous things about the Harry Potter series is the emphasis it places on giving everyone a fair chance, love, equality, kindness, not caring where someone is from but what they're all about and where's they're headed.

Conclusion: Harry Potter is always relevant.

War Legacy and travel blog --> life blog

On Friday, like I mentioned before, I was privy to a delectable Italian feast prepared by two Italian classmates. They live quite a bit north of the city so we had to train.... for me a bus, a train, and another train - so worth it! Very cosy evening. Without even planning I hopped on the train in the very same car as Lota, Hege, Laura, and Nash.... then when we got off at the station three other friends popped up. WOAH.

Over lasagna and pizza Laura and I somehow started talking about family histories.... She is from Belgium, the Dutch/Flemish speaking area. I was telling her that I had been to Belgium with my grandfather in the areas where he fought in WWII when I was 12. Her grandpa was also in the war. Comparing stories of how they've reflected and formed their identities around the world was eerily similar. As more joined in the conversation we became acutely aware of the meandering and unpredictable ways the world can shake up and rearrange human beings. Our two Italian hosts both had grandfathers who had fought for the fascist Italian army - everyone had to. One of my Italian friends is actually half Swiss - she's from the north of Italy - so that grandfather had been exempted from fighting simply due to his Swiss passport. Lotta from Finland told of her grandfather's traumatic experiences in the Finnish-Russian war. Irene from Spain grew up hearing mostly about the trauma of the Spanish civil war just before and around WWII. It was a sobering conversation to be had over such luscious food. The historian in me was going wild.

                                                       -    -    -    -    -    -    -    -

Lately I have been contemplating how this blog feels different these days. I'm not "traveling" like I was when I had my fun 'gap year travels' blog (http://aliceminor.blogspot.dk/ if you're interested). With that blog there was always something ABSURD or extreme happening. A giant Indian moth that I mistook for a rat with enough conviction to inspire the local guards to come in with a machete, the time we got caught up in Ganesha's birthday festival on the Ganges, learning what the hell they meant by "shame, auntie, shame!!!" in relation to my dupatta. And frankly, I was so young then. I'm so young now, but I was SO young then, and had no sense of wanting to build permanency around me. Now I find myself trying to settle into routines, make stable and close friends, get to know this place. The way I make friends here is very different form when I was traveling after high school. Then I wanted to meet and hear from everyone almost just for the sake of hearing anything anyone had to say. I still believe that I can learn a great deal from anyone I meet.... but I'm much more prone to seeking commonalities and people that truly make sense in my life. In many ways I think I exoticized the friends I made in India, Thailand, and elsewhere. They were "experiences". My friends here.... are friends. Which makes me feel weird about blogging about them and our more personal connections.

All this, I've come to believe, is a reflection of the fact not just that I'm a bit more mature, but also that I want to LIVE here. It's less fun to go on and on about how crazy and different things are when you want to be a part of it. In that vein, I had a fantastic conversation with a friend of mine from my graduate program who has been reading my blog who related to much of the feelings of being out of place or different in Copenhagen that I have discussed. She's Danish! But from a very small town in Jutland, which truly is a different world from Copenhagen.... one that I have yet to really explore. As much as I know that Jutland is a different world from CPH it was wonderful to be reminded, and also to talk to someone with an unexpectedly similar experience.

It's tiresome to be constantly reminded of my nationality in some of my young friendships with people here. I don't want to interact with people as representatives of Spain, Belgium, Ghana, Denmark, Romania, Finland -whatever. As evidenced by my earlier story about WWII legacies sometimes that's the best language we have to talk about our selves and histories but there is that fine line between discussing place-based divergences in experience and assigning inherent or defining value to those divergences. Trying to walk that line in my friendships.

Gettin' down with the Norwegians

Yesterday my friend Nash and I decided that we're "eating our way through Europe"... which is slight exaggeration, but entertaining nonetheless. Tonight two Italians from our program are having us over for a delectable Italian feast and last night our friend Hege took us along to a Norwegian feast at the local Norwegian Seaman Church of Copenhagen.

Copenhagen is a pretty "blond" space... but this was extreme. It was almost all women so the straight blond hair was just EVERYWHERE. Nash is a black man. With a loud English accent. I am blond, of course, but with an overenthusiastic American laugh and strange command of Danish with a somewhat random accent (I've heard Polish, Swedish, German... and of course American). Lotta is a Swedish Finn, so she has her own issues there. And Laura is a pretty enthusiastic Belgian who was an hour late - which doesn't seem to be a very "Norwegian" thing to do. SO we integrated pretty well is what I'm trying to say. The past week or so in our course we have been studying Diasporas from various angles... and then we realized we were right in the middle of one!!

After a hardy - and I mean HARDY - meal of lamb, cabbage, potatoes the priest announced that there would be a "cosy time" in the adjacent room with coffee, dessert, and a trivia quiz. I swear, the Norwegians practically SPRINTED to clean up the dishes so they could get on to their cosy time. I've never seen a band of young people clean so efficiently. We didn't thrive in the Norwegian quiz setting but Hege did what she could for us. Of course Danish and Norwegian culture/tradition aren't insanely different... that was part of what made the whole thing funny. It was so explicitly NORWEGIAN even though much of what was happening could have been elsewhere in Denmark... just without people identifying with being Norwegian together. The language is a bit different of course. And Hege would probably want me to add that they had some Norwegian snacks and chocolates. But mostly the distinction seemed like a collective identification with not being "from here" - so in that way I wasn't really pretending. Hahahah no, I'm just kidding, we were total Norwegian posers.

The Welfare State

A couple nights ago I had a friend over for dinner and excellent conversation. She also gave me her old Nokia phone so I'm not connected until the iPhone comes out and I can jump on the deals. Another friend gave me an old sim card he had, another is lending me her bike for a year, a fourth hooked me up with a job, and finally another got me connected to this apartment. Again, I must say, the whole "Danes are unfriendly" trope just doesn't hold up for me. Different social mores on the whole, yes of course, but also so many remarkably loyal and kind people.

The dinner date. The Welfare State. Ida is a Danish law student in her final semester before she writes her thesis - meaning, she knows a thing or two about Danish law and social/political structures. All her life she's thought of the welfare state as a combination of assistance to the poor and elderly, to people with disabilities, to the student stipend she receives. And the logic behind it, to her understanding, was that Denmark takes care of it's own and that it's a strong value to ensure that everyone has equal opportunities. This week Ida started a course on "Social Law" - meaning laws related to Danish social structures, chiefly the things we think of as the welfare state. It was one of those classes, she says, where you leave with the feeling that EVERYONE needs to hear what you just learned because it's that important and paradigm - shifting. The professor didn't say anything descriptive about Denmark that she didn't already know, but she did frame the Danish social system from a totally fresh perspective.

The welfare state is NOT, Ida explained to me, at all connected to moneys for those who are unable to work, or are too poor to provide for themselves. This whole system comes from two sets of logic. The pure welfare state logic derives from the idea that if we all chip in our savings than we will be insured when times are rough for us or simply when we're old. Essentially - pay in now and your children will have a good start out into the world and you'll be cared for later. It's really a large-scale security program. Not a romantic "long-of-Denmark" driven exercise. Programs for those who can't work because they are injured, prematurely ill, or whatever reason - stem from a different logic. The belief that everyone should have enough to get by because it's best for society and it's simply what is right. So when political discourse starts to talk about how much immigrants or refugees "cost the welfare state" they're muddling with two sets of logic. The issue is that people who haven't been here for a while have not paid into the system and are not PART of the welfare state - they are part of the other set of logic.

One of the scariest challenges to the welfare state, Ida was saying - and I heartily agree, is that young people take it for granted and don't quite understand it. Young people generally think it's "awesome" that they get the student stipend (S.U.) but really take that for granted - and they fact that of course they wouldn't pay for education or health care. It's something that the generation before witnessed being achieved but now... it's how life has always been for young people.

I have more to think about, I'll come back to it.

Here's Ida helping me learn Danish with "Peter Pedal" - Curious George in Denmark. 

TUSIND TAK DENMARK

I feel moved to thank the nation of Denmark. Thanking nations isn't something I do regularly, I must note. I tend to shy away from fierce displays of nationalism or dogmatism. I don't like it when any political leader says we live in "the best nation on earth" etc, etc because I think it's simply hyperbole and absurd. But... THANK YOU DENMARK. Thank you.

Earlier today I wrote about the Danish bureaucracy. And yes, it's frustrating and I won't take back any of my political commentary on it. Still, there are important fabulous things about Denmark that I want to highlight! Today when I received my Danish "CPR" number which will make me legal in Denmark for the next 2.5 years I was extremely surprised at my own emotional response. The woman handling my paperwork asked me a bit about the upcoming election while she processed my documents and before I knew it she was writing down phone numbers for the two doctors closest to my home address. She then gave me a little information on free government classes for learning Danish, wrote down the emergency phone number in Denmark for me and told me I should check in with either of those two doctors or call such and such nurse who is available 24/7 if I have any quick questions.

I didn't get it. Damn it I have been to Denmark for two five week programs about Danish society and studied Denmark for my thesis - and I just didn't understand. I have a mild medical condition that I need to take medication for daily. My insurance in the US has never covered it and I was worried that in Denmark they wouldn't want to send me to the doctor if I needed those pills. Timidly I asked... "I'm sorry if this is a silly question but... how much does it cost to go to the doctor?" The Borgerservice official stared at me with a look of pained sympathy, shaking her head. "It doesn't cost you anything in Denmark."

Health care. Legal residence. I'm not kidding - I almost teared up as I left the Borgerservice place.

Balkan wanderings - Sarajevo

Hello! I haven't been writing in a long while because I haven't had a computer or consistent internet... but a lot has happened. Most importantly - I AM AN AUNTIE!!! My brother welcomed his first child into the world on July 3. Her name is Alice Juliet Kinyon Minor. Though I am having a wonderful time traveling I really can't wait to get home and meet my newest loved one.

The program is over! strange whirlwind of a finish! As always with these things.

This is a group shot of Copenhagen 2012 in the Christianshavn meeting room :) Wonderful group of people.


Bosnia.... it was one of the most powerful weeks of my life. After the HIA conference in Sarajevo I stuck around and saw the city for a day. We (five friends from my program last year plus an HIA fellow from France) took a trip around the outskirts of Sarajevo. Amazing views from the hills, local watering holes, and of course the tunnel of hope. The 800 meter long, 1.5 meter high tunnel through which military personnel, civilians, food, supplies, medicines... everything... came in and out of Sarajevo during the four year siege. The entrance is strangely anonymous. A family allowed the tunnel to emerge in the basement - taking enormous risks in doing so of course. Like many areas of Sarajevo there are still bullet holes all over that home.

This is me and my friend Una (she works for HIA doing office and book keeping stuff) along the river that runs through Sarajevo. That is a cultural center behind us. Una is so amazing! Blessed to have her as a new friend. Una, and Sara and I spent an afternoon wandering at the end of the conference. It was a welcome change of pace to be in a smaller group and without a particular agenda of things to see and do. I'm so glad I'll get to live in the same place as the two of them soon.

(side note: my friend, who is Bosnian, opined that the bullet holes left behind in Sarajevo are a complicated mixture of not having the funds to repair and not wanting to cover up the conflict. Sarajevo is majority Bosniak. The war can be somewhat considered a civil war - but it was also largely a war of aggression from the Bosnian Serbs against the Bosniaks and Bosnian Croats.... but I hesitate to categorize too much. If I've learned anything in Bosnia it is that you cannot say anything about the war or ethnic groups without several caveats. Ethnicity doesn't equal religion and vice versa... but often they stand in for each other politically. which leads to more tension.)

While in Sarajevo we also visited Srebrenica, the site of Europe's worst genocidal crime since World War Two. Obviously a difficult visit. An over three hour bus ride from Sarajevo, extremely hot - the Balkans are HOT. We met with a man who survived Srebrenica, Hasan Nuhanovic. He was a translator for the Dutch peacekeepers who turned 6,000 Bosniaks over to the Serb army. He was forced to turn over his parents and brother to the Serbs but held back himself to translate. Over the past 9 years he has been engaged in a law suit against the government of the Netherlands... but the trouble is, UN troops can't be prosecuted on the national level.

Here is a video of him:  http://www.ushmm.org/genocide/take_action/gallery/portrait/nuhanovic

It was a powerful presentation. Hard to say much more about it. We all sat in a large hall and he began to talk. A few minutes in he told us that we were sitting in the large containment area where the Bosniaks were gathered before they were slaughtered. Where he had said goodbye to his family 17 years ago.

Another thing Bosnia has taught me - 17 years is an EXTREMELY SHORT TIME.

Sarajevo is filled with this tumultuous cascade of lightness and weight. Young people carry the stories and prejudices of their parents, the elderly remember a time when everyone coexisted, and ethnicity is never far from the surface although everyone looks the same. Seriously. They are all Yugoslavians. There are different religious roots but no one is "purely" Croat or Bosniak or Serb. And Muslims are not "new". In Mostar, Muslims and Catholics coexisted peacefully for five hundred years before the war.

The HIA conference was really fantastic. I saw presentations on Internally Displaced People in Bosnia from the war - there are still thousands. The shifting political landscape and national economy makes it hard for them to return home - either members of a different ethnic group have moved into the area or there is no longer a home where they lived... etc. I also learned about segregated schools in Bosnia. A MAJOR issue.

As always meeting new amazing people was a highlight of the conference. So we did some fun / upbeat stuff too. Here we are at the Eurocup semifinal, Italy vs. Germany. That's Kasper, Margrethe, me, Pierre-Anthony, and Una.

And here I am at the conference closing reception in a building overlooking part of the city. Bosnia is GORGEOUS. absolutely beautiful. the beautiful photos are coming soon.... That's Ogi and Tara behind me.

Outside our hotel which was in the hills of Sarajevo overlooking the city center, etc. Gorgeous, gorgeous place.

Marija and me in Sarajevo Old Town. FANS are such a good thing. Marija had one in Copenhagen last year and I thought it was a fashion statement type situation... No. So much more than that.

When we went on our tour of Sarajevo was stopped at an ancient Roman bridge on the outskirts of town (after looking at the tunnel of hope). I made 'friends' with two little girls... they taught me some Bosnian. "Volim vas!" We love each other! and of course: "Vi volim Bosnia!" We love Bosnia. Dang I love children... I have been wanting to snatch them all up - especially since I'm about to meet my newborn little niece when I come home! Every kid is a major reminder of her for me.

More later.... I am in Belgrade now and want to see a little something... we took an overnight bus here from Montenegro and are all a bit drowsy but I think I'm fresher than most. I'm a solid bus sleeper.

The next post will be a bit more upbeat - abotu our visit to Marija's place - my friend from Southern Bosnia, and Mostar and Dubrovnik. And buses in between... transit is always amusing....

All my love,
Alice

Visas and Borders

The Visa journey… Sitting in the Danish Agency for Labour Retention and International Recruitment… an arm of the Ministry of Refugees, Immigration, and Integration. Woohoooo… When I got here almost three hours ago it said I had a wait time of 55 minutes. I am in line as number 162. They are on number 38. Damn.

This is such a strange sort of purgatory…. people are just moving slowing, but also exactly the same. Way calm about the situation. Like we all expect to be like cattle here. Almost everyone around me is brown. Lots of babies, old people, LOTS of young men. Last time I was here a little 2 year old was running around with a balloon. When it popped it was about the most exciting thing the room had seen in hours. (number 39!!!)

I am having all sorts of thoughts about deservingness and citizenship. This entire system of nations, borders, passports – it’s so new, so flawed. It chills me to think of how seamlessly we accept this system. Forventet ventetid, estimated wait time: 235. In minutes. This is pretty wild. There are more languages in this room than most hundred square mile sections of Denmark I would guess. Some musings on how to live my life. I really appreciate some aspects of how Danes approach “social justice” and human rights type work. There is less of a competitive edge to their notion of doing good work than I have found with most like-minded Americans. It’s a strange thing, really. Being competitive about helping people. I mean, really? But I’m serious. Why do I care about the world? Do I need to win at helping? NO. That’s some bullshit. Danes seem to value their own happiness in a way that many Americans I know who are interested in “helping people” just… don’t. There is something more genuine in that to me. More of a tendency, an emphasis on living life in a way that includes social justice, helping. The “do-good” isn’t separate from, but deeply intrinsic to, the rest of a person’s life. Of course it’s not all so rosy. But in general I really do think that Danes value their happiness. And that translates into them being less wound tight, holding less of a martyr complex, than a lot of Americans.  

 Part of that I think comes from the psychology of the welfare state. People have space to do what they love, what they’re good at, because different types of work are valued more equally than in other parts of the world. I absolutely think that hard work and valuable service should be recognized and awarded. But the hundreds times salaried leaders of big companies who really have done nothing remarkable apart from being born where they’re born and working how they work in our system – that doesn’t make me dance around about the American dream. Whenever I hear the sound of stamps I get slightly excited. You know new comers because they look at the overhead when the little ding! announcing next-counter-open sounds. The rest of us know that it isn’t our number. I have been mistaken for a Swede several times. Had a nice chat with a Canadian-Swedish couple that are pregnant together. They’re number 283 so coming back Monday.

For the final project at the end of the fellowship this summer, everyone is doing an “Action Plan” – a practice at creating a plan for a social justice action. I have helped brain storm with one of the groups. They are interested in ideas of nationhood and borders. The rights and deservingness bestowed up on us by virtue of soil and blood. As am I, clearly. My idea is to create an educational tool for elementary – high school aged kids. Of course adjusted by age. The basic structure will be that kids are given a passport that contains the rights available to someone in a given situation. There will be a story line of the people they become taken from a realistic sample of the experiences of people in that area (Copenhagen, for example). As the class learns about the stories and experiences of refugees to their community students would share what the person they are “playing” experiences. For example – you get sick! What are your rights? You outgrow your shoes! What is the “normal” next step? If you live in Center Sandholm you wait a couple months until your parents are issued tokens that can be taken to the camp store where you can get new shoes. One draw back of this program is that the kids who “play” more disadvantaged groups may gain a look at the lack of equality at play – but not every kid. So another way to approach it would be to have two profiles in each passport: native Danish and then another situation. Which can also include long-term resident, etc. They closed the doors half an hour ago but somehow the wait time as continued to increase. Clearly a ploy to assuage the masses. I have no stock in that little red number.

Forventet ventetid: 361 minutes.

HAHAHA there were just three ding!s within about two minutes and the crowd made a hugely audible “ooOOOOoooo” sound. And then we all looked around and were so aware of the collective hilarity of our situation. I’ve become buddies with a Chinese student who goes to Roskilde University. She gave me a cupcake. And two Indian men living in Denmark…. we’ve attempted to get on the internet together and generally joked about the conspiracy theory that is the little minute wait time light. Immigration authority friendships = the best friendships. My Chinese friend just realized she didn’t have the bank statements that she needs to prove she can pay for things…. so her friend is racing off to get it... She has lived here for five years and she says that this is the first time they’ve asked for it. Interesting!   

 Forventet ventetid: 195 minutes. REALLY??!?!?! Late breaking news.... I MADE IT!! One of my new friends from the immigration office gave me her ticket (very Willy Wonka) because she got another from her friend... I had helped her with paperwork she was missing and made her a drawing, she gave me a cup cake. Really a whole little world in there.... I AM ALLOWED TO GO TO DENMARK.

Constitution Day? ...and a tour of KPH neighborhoods

Today is "Constitution Day" in Denmark... Which is both celebrated with typical Danish flag waving (every single city bus sported two little Danish flags at the front) and gathering in crowds. We had normal programming in the morning – but one of the speakers was actually a Danish political scientist and political economist who I relied upon heavily in my thesis! I have to admit I was a bit star struck. I don’t suppose he’s used to young American followers. He probably just thought I had some sort of staring issue. A fair assumption really given my recent tendency to gape open-mouthed at any Danish speaker. All the neurotic writing down of vocab words and listening to Danish music and deciphering newspapers HAS paid off though… I’m just in the socially-awkward staring space at the moment.

 But to Constitution day! We went to a Ny-Dansk (New Dane) youth council celebration that featred local rappers and reggae artists as well as politicians such as the Minister for Integration and the Minister for Religion and Equality. They gave rather white bread talks but it was super cool to see them there in my neighborhood.... which you will read more about below and hopefully see why it was interesting to have the mainstream Danish political set present.

One of the program participants was a founding member of the Republican Movement in Denmark - which has nothing to do with American Republicanism as understood today. It's all about arguing about the state of democracy in Denmark and against the monarchy because it is so extremely undemocratic to preference certain people because of their birth. Not to mention pretty fiscally irresponsible to give them so much money when Denmark is in the red. The core argument though is that the constitution gives the Monarchy too much power and this flies in the face of Danish political values enshrined in the welfare state. In short, it is outdates. Maybe fine in 1849 when the constitution was officially written, but certainly unsuited for today. Technically no law is in force unless the Queen approves it. The Danish monarchy has significantly more power than the British monarchy because it's not just a verbally "understood" relationship between the crown and Parliament - the Constitution actually vests sovereignty in the Monarch. So. Constitution day. A bit of a big day for the Republican Movement folks.




 Thought I'd write about København neighborhoods! Or at least my take on them… might be interesting to look back on once I've lived here for a while.

Indre by – City Center, or literally “Inner City” but it has NONE of the connotations of an American inner city. This is the old part of town where you’ll find churches, castles, Parliament, the old stock exchange, and Nyhavn (the famous canal that is just crawling with picturesque boats and Danish flags and colorful canal-front houses). It’s very pretty and fun to walk around though of course the streets are very much pre-motor vehicle so it’s easy to get taken downstream to the wrong end point when you’re on a bike. Also prohibitively expensive place to eat or do anything really.


Here's a photo of me in Indre by taken at Distortion, which I wrote about a few days ago:



Vesterbro – “Vester” means Western. This is one of the ‘hip’ neighborhoods to live. Lots of artists, coffee shops, a totally different feel to the streets – a bit more close together. This is one of the places where communities of immigrants live because housing is less expensive. The old meat packing district was hear… today that’s a cool place to go for bars and dancing because the big warehouses have been converted.


Fredriksberg – A fancier neighborhood northeast of Vesterbro…. lots of pretty gardens and expensive apartments and nice schools. Part of Fredricksberg is literally in a different municipality than the rest of København because they’re the wealthiest and have their own system of garbage collection and recycling going, etc. Very strange to find that out because it doesn’t seem to fit with the Danish mentality… I will try to learn more.


Nørrebro – Nørre means North. Sensing a pattern!??! I thought the neighborhoods and streets were so clever last year until I learned what it all meant. Really quite factual and unimaginative… Danish itself is the spicy thing. This is THE most multiethnic place in all of Denmark. And I live in probably the most multiethnic spot of all, Mjølnerparken. Closer to city center, Nørrebro has bunches of places to go out and coffee shops and cheaper food options. As you go further from the city center it gets less wealthy and more populated by immigrant families. My neighborhood, Mjølnerparken, is actually a complex of four big apartment buildings that are the Danish version of “the projects”. Here’s an aerial photo of the complex:
 

In the media this place has been spoken of as the ‘ghetto’ but that word choice is highly contentious, extremely racially loaded, and completely far off from reality. As I sit on the balcony of the apartment where I am staying I can see a woman putting out laundry. She’s wearing a veil. That’s really what it comes down to. In the courtyard I see a guy helping his friend fix a bike and about 20 kids running around playing in the jungle gym. Hardly that terrifying if you ask me. Anytime there is a WHIFF of crime or trouble in this area it is front page news. So much so that Danish politicians have made a show of going to visit the neighborhood. And others (Pia Kjærsgaard of Dansk Folkeparti) publicly say that they are too afraid to go here. Here are some politicians 'visiting':
 


Østerbro - Øster meaning "Eastern". Unsurprisingly it is to the east of Nørrebro, along the coast. It is a more calm neighborhood. Definitely a place to raise your kids. The huge city stadium and one of the biggest parks Fælledsparken is there as well. This is where I stayed with Thomas for the first week. He's always complaining that it's not 'edgy' enough and that the only thing remarkable about it is the high number of grocery stores you can find there. It's nice though!


Amager - this is the island south of the rest of the city.... Morten lives here and we had our staff welcoming dinner there at his house but that's the most I've really been there. Pretty residential / isolated. I actually have hung out along the huge canal on the Amager side but that's it. We'll see if that changes or not!

And then there are other little neighborhoods within neighborhoods of course, and places on the periphery like Hellerup (POSH) north of Østerbro and Valby south of Vesterbro... but I can't claim to know much about it all beyond that. Hahah except i took my bus WAY too far past my stop yesterday almost to the next county. Nice sight seeing at least. Hej hej for now!