If we say that culture is something you have, then I am 100% foreign, because I came here with a different culture. But if we say that culture is something we do, then I am zero percent foreign. I come from a Christian Iraqi family, and I have lived most of my life in Denmark. This means that I am often placed in some little boxes where I do not fit in, because I am neither a typical Iraqi nor a typical Danish-Iraqi. It can be rather frustrating at times, but it does give me the opportunity to define myself. The cross around my neck symbolises God, but not a Christian God as such, because I don’t believe in religion.

In most places God is described as someone who gives people the right to use animals as they please, which is something I am beginning to question.
Why should God not have empathy with animals, I ask myself? I feel guilty when I eat meat, and I seriously consider dropping it totally.

Also I don’t necessarily believe in hell as described in the Bible, because if people are generous enough to forgive, then I don’t believe that there is someone out there larger than man who would be so small-minded and not being able to do the same. I would like to be better at showing my gratitude to the people around me. I even find it hard to say thank you to someone standing right beside me, or indeed ask this person for help. But if it is God I want to thank, I can do it. I believe that is one of the reasons why faith is so important to me.

Rand Tayih / 23 years / female / single / studies intercultural pedagogy / Glostrup/ from Iraq / came to Denmark in 2000 / residence permit same year

When I feel foreign it is because of the language, so perhaps I am 20% foreign. I have always been judged on the basis of my qualifications as a designer and a human being. Not on my background, which I appreciate.

I was raised in a loving home with a mother and a father kissing each other until the very end, and I have always aspired to create a loving family of my own. I share a house with my son and his family, and it is such a blessing to be close to my grandchildren.

Creativeness has always played a big role in my life, and I try to pass it on to them via puppetry, drawing and play, and I become so happy and touched by their imaginative ideas. However, my family life has also been associated with grief. Some 18 years ago my daughter walked out, and she has refused to see me ever since. She has told her father that this was due to an episode just after we arrived in Denmark, when I was supposed to have locked her up in the basement. I have no idea where the story comes from, and I would have liked to talk it over it with her, because the knowledge of it all being based on some misunderstanding is unbearable. When my mother was dying

I moved in with her and slept in a bed next to hers, and she told me about her childhood, her youth, her love life, everything. Today there is nothing more I need to speak to my mother about, and when I think back to those days, it is with deep affection. I hope that one day I may say an equally beautiful goodbye
to my children.

Jana Novak /  71 years / female / single / children / Hårlev / designer / from Czechoslovakia / came to Denmark in 1974 / residence permit same year

I feel 50% foreign. I know that I am slightly different, but this is not necessarily because I am from another country. It might just as well be due to my opinions or due to my height. When I lost my parents I had a thought; you can live all your life in a country, but it is not until you bury a relative that you really put down roots.

My husband and I sometimes talk about our being part of the happiest generation. We were both born after World War II during a time characterised by optimism. Gender equality, equal pay and free education were on the agenda. The standard of living gradually increased and children could look forward to a more privileged life than that of their parents. Unfortunately this development does not look like it can continue. The Copenhagen property market is characterised by speculation, inequality is growing, and Copenhagen risks ending as a ghetto for affluent citizens. As far as gender equality is concerned, there is still a lot to fight for too.

For example, as a citizen you have to be active if you want to ensure real equality in the judicial sector. Last April, the Roskilde Court acquitted three young men of the rape of a 16-yearold, and only after a media storm and public demonstrations, the regional court overruled this verdict.

This was a prime example of poor juridical practice, where cultural issues on gender and sexuality shape the way the law is interpreted. The law is equal for everyone, but not everyone is equal before the law.

Katia Forbert Petersen / 67 years / female / in a relationship / children / film director and
photographer / Copenhagen Ø / from Poland / came to Denmark in 1969 / residence permit same year

It is only when someone asks me where I come from that I am reminded that I was not born here. Both my husband and I were children when we came to Denmark, and if my husband hadn’t been Vietnamese too, I would probably have been more Danish. But I am grateful that together we can keep the Vietnamese traditions alive.

My favourite celebration is the Vietnamese New Year. We gather the whole family, that is around 44 people. We have a pleasant time all night with traditional Vietnamese food and games. It is not like a Danish celebration which ends at a certain time. A lot of people stay overnight, and the party doesn’t really finish till after brunch the following day. Simon, our unofficial foster son, also joins us every year.

Simon was five when he and his two siblings came to Denmark from Vietnam. He never really felt at home with his adoptive mother, so when he
discovered another Vietnamese family in town, he practically moved in with us.

It wasn’t long till he became a part of the brood. He says I remind him of his biological mother, and that he feels at home here. Simon has had a tough time getting a grip on life. We have helped him as much
as we could. Today we are officially a relief family for his son Philip, named after our son. I think that Simon was too old when he arrived here. He was torn away from everything he knew, and overnight he was placed in a new home and given a new name and a new mother.

My home is with my family here in Denmark, and Simon’s home is here with us.

Trang Thuy Hoang Pham / 44 years / female / in a relationship / children / accountant / Borup /
from Vietnam / came to Denmark in 1975 / residence permit same year

I am 100% refugee. Even though I now have asylum, my future here is still uncertain. The last eight months my children have been in the asylum centre Roskilde waiting to get an answer from the immigration office. We did not flee together.

Although I was scared when I fled, their flight was definitely the worst. The boat they took sank in the
Mediterranean sea. For 10 days I didn’t hear from them at all. I thought that they had drowned as so many others did. Pictures of dead children were sent to me to see if I could identify any of them.
After 10 days they called. I could not believe it. The happiest day of my life was when I was reunited with my family. And I assume that the day they are given asylum will be just as fantastic.

I was married at the age of 16 in an arranged marriage, and I had my first child when I was 17. Therefore I did not have a youth and I felt limited in my marriage. I cannot identify myself with this culture.

I had one year with no restrains before my husband came here, and during this period I feel like I found myself. Adapting to this has not been easy for
my husband, and therefore we argue a lot. But I refuse to be the person I was before.

Now I travel the world and participate in conferences concerning refugees. I am engaged in a lot of NGOs, where I work for a better integration and a better understanding between the different
nationalities and cultures here in Denmark.

Amongst other things I have invited people to Syrian dinners. I am happy and I feel like I
deserve it.

Manal Bashir Tahhan / 41 years / woman / in a relationship / children / receptionist /
Birkerød / from Syria / came to Denmark in 2014 / residence permit
same year

We are Vietnamese. We cannot change our background. But we live 100% within Danish society, which means that in everyday life
we don’t think about being Danish or Vietnamese.

We are just here 100%. I am a catholic, and I always had the ambition of becoming a priest. I was
close to getting my dream fulfilled when I was forced to flee. Arriving in Denmark, I realised that my dream was over. I had a family back in Vietnam to support, and I simply couldn’t afford to continue my studies. So I decided to study engineering. I had all kinds of odd jobs until my wife and I managed to scrape enough money together to buy a small corner shop. We both worked long hours, and it wasn’t always easy to juggle work, children and education at the same time. But we managed. Later I bought a restaurant as this had much more
potential. Even though I am not a trained chef, my roast pork had the crispiest pork crackling in the suburb of Hundige. We sold the restaurant and built a factory to create more jobs for the Vietnamese in Denmark.

Our family and friends have always believed in us and in our dreams. Every time we have embarked on a new adventure, they have backed us, and at times even helped us financially. Once we had problems at the factory I managed to scrape 1,5 million kroner together in just three days. We no longer work as self-employed, so now it is time to gear down and enjoy life with all the fantastic people we are surrounded by.

Vinh Hien Do / 64 years / male / in a relationship / children / trained engineer, technician with NKT Photonics / Copenhagen V / from Vietnam /
came to Denmark in 1980 / residence permit same year