I want to participate in 100% Foreign? so I can get others to see me as 100% Danish. I have lived in Aalborg for 30 years, and I just LOVE the place.
Aalborg is my city, and I am a very active citizen.

Nevertheless, I often hear others refer to those of us not born here as refugees or strangers. They turn it into a question of us and them. It makes me so frustrated and sad, because I don’t know what to do to make you see me as one of you. I am 100% integrated, but integration is a two-way street. When will the society accept me 100%? Teheran is the place where I was born, but when I was 16, I fled
with my older brother. In Iran you could not voice your opinion, let alone have one. You could not assemble for meetings. My father learned it the hard way when he was imprisoned and tortured. My memories of this made me get involved in the Danish society. When I was 22, I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, and my world came
tumbling down. But then I joined the local sclerosis association, and since then I have been in the Disability Council and the Accessibility Council in Aalborg as well as on other boards.

I love working for boards, because it offers me influence, a voice and responsibility. It has added new focus and meaning to my life. The disease put a stop to my dream of going to university and study administration, but with my volunteer work I can still do something for the Danish society.

Asghar Azizi / 46 / male / in a relationship / volunteer and early retirement / Aalborg / from Iran / came to Denmark in 1990 / residence permit 1990

I can’t remember a life before Denmark. Nevertheless, I feel more like a Danish-Bosnian citizen of the world than just a Danish one. I have Bosnian relatives, who I see most summers, and then there’s Leo Tolstoy. He was a rescue kitten I brought back to Denmark after a visit to Bosnia some years ago. To begin with he was ever so gentle,
hence the name, but today he is a little devil. But I adore animals and always have done.

Ever since I was a teenager, I wanted to be a vegetarian, because I like animals so much. My father would like me to at least eat fish. But now I am a vegan and my mother a vegetarian.

My family and I travel to Bosnia once a year, and I feel quite conformable down there. But when I was a teenager, I felt like a stranger. I did not speak like the youngsters down there, I did not dress like them. Like I said, today I feel like a citizen of the world – or a European. I have relatives in Sweden, Austria, Slovenia, Germany and Norway, but I belong in Denmark.

I was just 14 months old when my family came to Aalborg, and I can’t imagine living anywhere else. I realised that when there were issues with my permanent residence permit in connection with my 18th birthday. I was scared of being deported, because where would I go? I like Bosnia a lot, and I have taken Leo Tolstoy down there a couple of times, but we always return back home to Denmark.

Mirela Demo /26 / female / single / unemployed / Aalborg / from Bosnia / came to Denmark in 1994 / residence permit 1996

I have been in Denmark for 32 years. More than half of my life. I have only been to Sri Lanka once since I fled, and I will probably never go there again. The colour of my skin shows that I am from there, but I and my family feel more at home in Denmark than in my
home country. We feel safer here.

I am a bus driver and have been for 21 years. I am currently operating the routes 73 and 56 from Aalborg to Frederikshavn and out towards Mou. I enjoy my work, and I care about strictly adhering to the time schedules. If I am frequently delayed, people risk losing their jobs.

Once there was a girl who travelled from Sæby to Nørresundby for high school every day. She was told off for arriving late. But she told me that when I was the driver, she always got there in time.

I am from Sri Lanka, and back there I had professional driver’s license. I fled before I could use it. I was 23 and had been detained by the military a few times. Once we sat there in a row, we were four or five of us, next to a hole they had dug. There were people in it. Some still breathing. Even today I find it difficult with soldiers. When I drive
past the barracks in Nørresundby, and the soldiers get on the bus, I get flashbacks. I become nervous and scared, even though I know they won’t hurt me.

Kantharooban Natarasa / 55 / male / married and has three children / bus driver / Aalborg / from Sri Lanka / came to Denmark in 1986 / residence permit 1986

Two years ago, I became a father. My girlfriend and I had a son, and when we were at the hospital, a nurse came in and asked us what he was going to be called. We said something she understood as Mathias. She wrote the name down in Danish in the papers, and this is how he came to be called Mathias. I like the name, because it is used in Denmark and Eritrea alike.

My world changed in many ways when our son was born. I went on from being a refugee, who might return one day, to seeing Denmark as my
homeland. Our son will grow up here as a Dane, and through him I have become more Danish.

I make an effort to get to know the Danish system and create a life here in Aalborg for my girlfriend, Mathias and myself. But I still feel that inside our flat there is a small piece of Eritrea, while Denmark is outside. I build bridges between the two worlds by seeking knowledge about the society from TV, going to school and work. I have only
just started at Tech College to train as an electrician. But I need an internship, so if you know any? I also work at a launderette, so I am busy from 8 am to 8 pm every day. It is a bit tough sometimes. But

I still try to schedule it so that most days I can bring Mathias to day care on the way to school. Back in Eritrea, I was an anthropologist. It has given me a great interest in society and people, and this curiosity has helped me to get
to know Denmark a lot faster.

Tesfamariam Yohannes / 32 / male / in a relationship / student / Aalborg / from Eritrea / came to Denmark in 2014 / residence permit 2015

All depending on the circumstances of course, I feel from 0 to 100% Danish. If people generalise about Iraqis in Denmark, I feel 100% Iraqi, but if on the other hand I hear about Danes being generalised in Iraq, I feel 100% Danish. Generalisations provoke me.

I came to Denmark in 1985. At the time I smoked 60 cigarettes a day. Then in 1989 I met my wife. She was a keen runner. So, I decided to quit smoking and start running. Initially I could run about 1 km at a time.

I started running further after reading a book at the library. It described how you in 36 weeks could train for a marathon. So that is what I did. My first run was 23 April 1990. Since then I have completed 172 marathons, several half marathons and a number of ultra runs. An ultra run is anything over 42,195 km. The longest I ever did was 169 km in 24 hours. That was in Norway.

What running does to me is give me peace. It is a sort of therapy, and it makes me tired so I can sleep at night. When I run, I can move the problems from my head and down into my body. It is good for me, because my head cannot cope with all the problems on its own, but the body can. Running is so important to me that I would rather die
during a run than peacefully in my bed. Running has given me back my life in the aftermath of the war, flight and cigarettes, and when I run, I am 100% proud of what my body can accomplish.

Karim Abbas Hassan / 67 / male / married / children / pensioner / Aalborg / from Iraq / came to Denmark in 1985 / residence permit 1985

In my bedroom I have two stones. A small one and another one a bit bigger. To others they probably don’t look much, but to me they mean the world. The little one represents what I want to be, the big one represents hope. They are both from Palestine, the place I come from, but which I never set foot in until this year. My grandparents
fled in 1948, so until my family came to Denmark nearly 30 years ago, they lived in the United Arab Emirates.

I have always felt 100% at home in Denmark, but I have also taken a lot of interest in Palestine. Earlier this year I finally plucked up the courage to join an organised tour of the West Bank. The trip compelled me to engage myself 100% in the Palestinian cause – here.

My parents are a bit uneasy about my commitment, but they don’t have to be. After the journey, I feel even more at home in Denmark. This is where I belong and where I have the freedom to be an activist. And activism is precisely what the two stones in my bedroom symbolise. The little one was picked up outside Ahed Tamimis’ house in Nabi Salih. I admire Ahed’s courage. She is only half my age but has twice the courage. I picked the other and bigger stone up from my country. It symbolises hope of a better future for Palestine. The two stones are in my home, in my town and in my country. They mean everything to me and help build bridges between my two cultures.

Rasha Khalife / 33 / female / single / architect / Aalborg / from Palestine/ UAE / came to Denmark in 1988 / residence permit 1988

I like observing life through a lens. To photograph. At the moment I take a lot of photos of nature. The nature just outside my window. I only just moved to a small village south of Aalborg and live right next to a lake. There are a couple of swans there, and one of their swan
chicks has white wings but a brown speckled body. It is between two stages of life and beautiful in its own way. I like the lake because I can walk all the way around it. It calms me to watch the scenery.

Occasionally I get this feeling of ”people overload”. I was bullied as a child. This was in Aarhus, where for many years I was the only foreigner in the class.

The bullying still haunts me, even though I have moved on and grown up. I find it hard to read people and need to feel the tranquility inside myself. I used to be bad at that, but as I grew older, I got better at finding the focus. Like in a photo it is all about cutting out everything that isn’t relevant.

I have lived in Aalborg for 12 years, but it isn’t till now I have acknowledged that I need the tranquility of the nature. Perhaps I am between two phases of life like the swan chick? From a stranger to myself to a stranger in society. Denmark may change, but in the nature I find the tranquility and the irreversible.

Samira Taba / 36 / female / in a relationship / sociological consultant and culture counsellor / Aalborg / from Iran / came to Denmark in 1985 / residence permit 1986

I was seven when I came to Denmark. I grew up here and see Denmark as my home. When I was young, I felt more like a Dane, but as I have visited Vietnam several times, I have become aware of the other side of me. Today I am fond of the cultural gift that my parents gave me. Back home we always played a lot of Vietnamese
music, and it means that today I also know that part of Vietnam.

Nevertheless, I will always feel more Danish and belong in Aalborg. This is where I live with my family, work as a waiter and where my friends live.

They are childhood friends and they mean a lot to me. We play together. I collect magic cards, and I have a unique collection. I got one of my friends to make a nice wooden box – a “cube” – for the cards. I have about a thousand of the most unusual foil-cards in it. They are all different. I love my cards, because they allow me to play. Throughout my childhood I dreamt of playing. But money was tight,
so there was nothing left for toys. I think that is the reason why I am still like one big playful child. When we celebrate Vietnamese holidays and festivals, I am usually the one in charge of entertaining the children. Now that I am about to become a father myself, I look forward to that. Earlier this year I got married in Vietnam, and it was great to be able to invite my friends over for the wedding.

Tay Van Doan / 33 / male / married / child / waiter / Aalborg / from Vietnam / came to Denmark in 1992 / residence permit 1992