1980’erne
1980: Hvor mange indvandrere bor der i Danmark?
I 1980 bor der 135,000 førstegenerationsindvandrere i Danmark samt 18,000 andengenerationsindvandrere.
1980: How many migrants live in Denmark?
By 1980, 135,000 first generation immigrants live in Denmark and 18,000 second generation immigrants live in Denmark.
1980: Iransk præstestyre sender tusinde på flugt
Frem til 1979 er shahen Mohammed Reza Pahlavi Irans enehersker og styrer autoritært med manglende frihedsrettigheder, systematisk tortur og andre brud på menneskerettighederne. Regimets undertrykkelse medfører oprør, og i 1979 må Pahlavi flygte ud af Iran, hvorefter ayatollah Sayyed Ruhollah Khomeini bliver indsat som øverste leder af en ny islamisk republik. Det nye teokratiske styre bliver opbygget af konservative shiamuslimske teologer, der sikrer sig magtpositioner over hele landet. Regimet er stærkt kritisk overfor Vesten og overtager hurtigt kontrollen over domstolene, militæret og sikkerhedsstyrkerne. Samtidig påbegynder regimet en voldsom forfølgelse af politiske modstandere, og kristne, jøder og andre religiøse mindretal bliver diskrimineret og truet til at forlade landet.
Efter ayatollah Khomeinis magtovertagelse i Iran udbryder der i 1980 også krig med nabolandet Irak. Konfliktens udgangspunkt omhandler Saddam Husseins frygt for, at iranerne vil føre den islamiske revolution med sig til Irak. Den otte år lange krig koster omkring 1 mio. mennesker livet, og driver mange tusinde fra begge landet på flygt. En del, særligt unge mænd, flygter af frygt for at blive indkaldt til hæren, mens civilbefolkningerne flygter fra voldsomme kampe og bombeangreb. En del iranere søger asyl i Danmark, hvoved de bliver stemplet af det iranske styre og risikerer henrettelse, hvis de vender tilbage. Antallet af iranske og irakiske asylansøgere til Danmark når sit højdepunkt i 1984-86.
1980: Iranian theocracy puts thousands to flight
Until 1979, the shah Mohammed Reza Pahlavi is absolute ruler in Iran and rules authoritarian with lacking constitutional rights, systematic torture and other human rights abuses. The regime’s suppression results in revolt and in 1979, Pahlavi flees the country after which ayatollah Sayyed Ruhollah Khomeini is appointed head of the new Islamic republic. The new theocratic rule is built by conservative Shia Muslims, who assure themselves in position of power and take control of the courts, the military and the security forces. At the same time, the rule begins a violent persecution of political opponents, and Christians, Jews and other religious minorities are being discriminated and threatened to leave the country.
After ayatollah Khomeini’s assumption of power in Iran, a war against the neighbouring country Iraq also begins in 1980. The starting point of the conflict is Saddam Hussein’s fear, that the Iranians will bring the Islamic Revolution to Iraq. The eight-year war results in the death of more than 1 million people, and the war puts many thousands to flight. Many, especially young men, flee due to their fear of being summoned to the army, while the civilian population flee due to violent fights and bombing raids. Some Iranians seek asylum in Denmark, whereby they are denounced as traitors by the Iranian rule and risk execution, if they return to Iran. The number of Iranian and Iraqi asylum seekers peaks in 1984-86.
1983: Dansk kulturarv i USA
I 1983 anser beboerne i Elk Horn i Iowa det for nødvendigt at gøre noget for at bevare historien om de danske indvandrere for eftertiden. Derfor grundlægges The Danish Immigrant Museum med det formål at huse artefakter fra og repræsentere områdets – samt hele USA’s – danske historie. I 1994 bliver første etape af museet fuldført: en bygning, der ifølge museets egen hjemmeside, skal lede tanken hen på en autentisk dansk bindingsværksgård.
I museet fortælles om immigrantens ankomst til og liv i USA. Museet huser samtidig en stor slægtsforskningsafdeling, hvor folk af dansk afstamning fra hele USA (og Danmark) har mulighed for at spore deres rødder. I 2013 skifter museet navn til Museum of Danish America.
1983: Danish cultural heritage in the United States
In 1983, the citizens of Elk Horn, Iowa, find it necessary to take further steps to preserve the Danish heritage on which the town was founded. The Danish Immigrant Museum is established, accommodating artifacts and history, documenting the danish migration history in Elk Horn, as well as the rest of the USA. The first part of the museum opens in 1994, consisting of a traditional Danish farmhouse with an exhibition on the history Danish migrants in the USA.
Additionally, it is possible to research ones Danish genealogy at the museum. In 2013, the museum changes name to The Museum of Danish America.
1983: Fra ‘de-facto’ flygtninge til beskyttelsesstatus
Begrebet ’de-facto’-flygtninge – flygtninge, der ikke er anerkendt efter Genevekonventionen, men som anses for at være forfulgt i hjemlandet – bliver introduceret i 1983-lovgivningen. Dermed bliver det slået fast, at opholdstilladelse som udgangspunkt skal gives til udlændinge, hvor tungtvejende grunde gør det umuligt for dem at vende hjem.
1983: De-facto refugees
De-facto refugees are refugees who are considered persecuted in their home-country, yet not acknowledged by the Geneva Convention. The concept of ‘de-facto’ is introduced in the 1983 legislation, granting residence permits to individuals who are able to demonstrate significant barriers in returning home.
1983: Ny udlændingelov
Danmark vedtager den mest liberale udlændingelov i Europa, der bl.a. giver ret til ophold i Danmark og familiesammenføring under behandling af asylsager. Herunder giver udlændingelovens paragraf 9 stk. 2 opholdstilladelse til udlændinge med nær familiemæssig tilknytning til en i Danmark fastboende person. Behandlinger af sager overgivet fra Fremmedpolitiet til det nyoprettede Direktorat for Udlændinge. Alle afgørelser kan foruden indbringes til et nyoprettet flygtningenævn med ankemulighed ved en dansk domstol.
Den nye udlændingelov giver i midten af 1980’erne tamilske flygtninge mulighed for at ansøge om at blive familiesammenført, imens de venter på, at deres asylsager blev behandlet. En ordre fra justitsminister Erik Ninn-Hansen om at indstille behandlingen af sager om familiesammenføring var et brud på retskravet om familiesammenføring.
1983: New law on immigration
Denmark adopts the most liberal law on immigrants in Europe. The law entitles immigrants to stay in Denmark, as well as apply for family reunification during asylum procedures. I.e. the law’s section 9 paragraph 2 gives residency permits to foreigners with close family ties to a resident of Denmark. Cases are handed over by the immigration police to the newly created Directorate of Immigration. Furthermore, all decisions can be brought to a newly established refugee agency, with the possibility of appeal before a Danish court.
1985-89: Tamilsagen
Som følge af borgerkrigen i Sri Lanka, hvor 2 millioner tamiler flygter fra landet, får justitsminister Erik Ninn-Hansen sat familiesammenføringen for tamiler i bero, hvilket berører 5-600 flygtninge, hvis sager var behandlet, men intet svar havde fået. Sagen bliver i pressen kendt som “Den falske melodi”, en sag der senere ender med fængselsstraf til den da pensionerede Erik Ninn-Hansen.
1985-89: The case of the Tamils
As a consequence of the civil war in Sri Lanka, 2 million Tamils flee the country. The Danish Minister of Justice, Erik Ninn-Hansen suspends the family-reunification of Tamils, affecting 5-600 refugees, who receive no response on their applications. In the press, the case was known as “The false Melody”, a case that later ended up with a prison sentence for the then retired Erik Ninn-Hansen.
1985: Palæstinensiske flygtninge fra Libanon
I løbet af 1980’erne dukker mange palæstinensiske flygtninge op i Danmark. De er på flugt fra en blodig borgerkrig, der har hærget Libanon siden 1975, og som har stor indflydelse på de palæstinensiske flygtningelejre, der blev etableret efter oprettelsen af staten Israel i 1948. Statsoprettelsen fordrev mange tusinde palæstinensere, og mange af disse flygtede til Libanon, hvor de bosatte sig i flygtningelejre. Presset på lejrene steg imidlertid efter Seksdageskrigen i 1967, og efterhånden mistede palæstinenserne troen på, at de arabiske lande kunne hjælpe dem i kampen mod Israel. Palæstinenserne begyndte derfor i stigende grad at tage sagen i egen hånd bl.a. ved at overtage ledelse af Den Palæstinensiske Befrielsesorganisation, PLO, der skulle operere militært i Israel.
I 1982 sætter Israel hårdt mod hårdt og invaderer det sydlige Libanon, hvorved PLO bliver fordrevet. Det kommer til at gå hårdt ud over de palæstinensiske flygtninge i lejrene, da de højreorienterede kristne, falangister, invaderer de to lejre Sabra og Shatila og slår 3000 mennesker ihjel. Derudover bliver flere af de palæstinensiske lejre også angrebet af den shiamuslimske Amal-milits, og desuden hærges lejrene også at kampe mellem palæstinensiske grupperinger. Disse begivenheder sender mange tusinde palæstinenere på flugt mod Europa – herunder Danmark, der i dag huser 19.000 palæstinensere. Freden kommer først i 1990, men på det tidspunkt er mere end 150.000 mennesker dræbt og over 200.000 såret.
1985: Palestinian refugees from Lebanon
During the 1980s, many Palestinian refugees arrive in Denmark. They are fleeing from a bloody civil war, which has ravaged Lebanon since 1975 and has had enormous impacts on the Palestinian refugee camps, which were established after the foundation of Israel in 1948. The foundation has driven away thousands of Palestinians, and many of those have fled to Lebanon, where they settled in refugee camps. The mounting pressure on the camps after the Six-day War in 1967 caused the Palestinians to lose faith in the Arabian countries to help them fight Israel. Instead, the Palestinians started to take the matter into their own hands e.g. by taking control of the management of the Palestine Liberation Organization, PLO, which were to take military action in Israel.
In 1982, Israel meets violence with violence and invades the Southern Lebanon, whereby PLO is driven away. The Palestinian refugees in the refugee camps suffer the most, when the right-winged Christians, the Falangists, invade the Sabra and Shatila camps and murder 3000 people. In addition, several Palestinian camps are attacked and invaded by the Shia Muslim Amal-militia, and several camps are also ravaged by fights between Palestinian groupings. These events put thousands of Palestinians to flight to Europe – among these Denmark in which 19.000 Palestinians reside today. The peace is first settled in 1990, but at that time more than 150.000 people have been killed and 200.000 is wounded.
1985-86: Lovgivningen strammes igen
Som følge af et stigende antal asylansøgere såvel som forstærket fokus i medierne bliver lovgivningen ændret i 1985 og markant i 1986. Det betyder, at asylansøgere kan afvises ved grænsen, hvis ‘transit-landet’ de kom fra kan demonstreres som værende sikkert.
1985-86: Further changes in legislation are introduced
As a result of an increasing number of asylum seekers, as well as an increased focus in the media attention awarded to the issues of immigration, the Danish legislation is further amended in 1985 and significantly in 1986. This means that asylum seekers could be rejected at the border if the ‘transit country’ they came to Denmark from is a safe country.
1988: Charterferie
På grund af en forbedring af økonomien og længere ferier tager danskerne på charterrejser som aldrig før. I 1988 kulminerer det i et rekordår, hvor 1,5 millioner danskere køber en pakkerejse. Der kan kun spekuleres i, hvordan disse ferier har påvirket internationaliseringen, men en betydelig del af danskerne får kendskab til det sydlige Europa på denne måde. Populære destinationer er i dag Tyrkiet og Ægypten.
1988: Charter tourism for Danish tourists
Due to a continual increase in personal wealth and longer holidays, the Danes embarque on holiday in the shape of package tours with everything included in the price like never before. A new record is set in 1988, where 1.5 million Danes buy a package holiday. One can only speculate how these holidays have affected internationalization, but a significant part of the Danes got to know Southern Europe travelling in this way. Today, popular destinations include Turkey and Egypt.
1988: Iulia kom til Danmark før Rumæniens kollaps
Interview af ph.d.-studerende Sahra-Josephine Hjorth
“Jeg tog afsted et år inden, det hele faldt fra hinanden. Altså før Berlinmurens fald. Jeg tog afsted i februar 1988, og jeg tror revolutionen i Rumænien startede i slutningen af 1988.” Jeg vendte tilbage til Rumæniens for første gang siden 1988 i år. Så jeg tog afsted i den værste periode under det kommunistiske regime. Det var et dramatiske skifte for mig at flytte fra Rumænien, som på mange måder var politisk undertrykt og begrænset – også økonomisk. Vi havde mad, fordi alle har fået mad på en eller anden måde, men det skulle alt sammen blandet, og vi brugte mange kræfter på bare at overleve.
Jeg flyttede til Sverige med min fra, før jeg kom til Danmark. Mine forældre var skilt, og min far havde giftet sig på ny. Vi var 4 børn i alt, men det var en nem skilsmisse for mine forældre. To til min mor og to til min far. Min søster og jeg flyttede med min far til Stokholm og denne høje civilisation – du ved, luksus og overflod på alle måder – var meget chokerende. Det tog noget tid for os at vænne os til lugtene, perfumerne – du ved, alle de her kemiske smagt, som jeg var meget imponeret af. Vi kom fra en fattig middelklassefamilie, og det var dette, mine forældre var flyttet væk fra ind til byen for at få job på fabrikkerne. Min far klarede det godt. Han avancerede ret hurtigt, så han fik ansvar for et team, før vi forlod Rumænien. Min mor var sælger, og hun fik også en hurtig karriere til trods for hendes baggrund. Så vi var født i denne familie, hvor begge forældre arbejdede, og vi havde alt, vi behøvede. Vi var ikke akademikere, men vi var ressourcestærke.
Min lidenskab for studier, litteratur, filosofi og digtning mindede ikke om vores baggrund. Da jeg kom til Sverige, indså jeg hurtigt, at jeg kunne forfølge mine drømme, fordi jeg nu var fri, men også havde muligheder. Jeg var overrasket over, at man kunne gå på universitetet gratis. Jeg var overrasket over, at folk var lige – du ved, det var ikke som om, at du var, hvad dine forældre var. Folk var ligeglade med din baggrund, og det betød mere, hvad du gjorde i bestemte kontekster. Det var meget styrkende for mig. Så mange hurtige, gode forandringer skete, og jeg havde også min søster – min kære lillesøster. Hun var rigtig god i skolen i Rumænien og fortsatte med at være god her. Hun gennemførte sine medicinstudier, men mødte så bagsiden af medaljen – nemlig, at der ikke var nogen jobgaranti. I det mindste var min sikker på et job i Rumænien, hvis du havde taget en universitetsuddannelse.
Jeg studerede romerske sprog, og det var meget ydmygende at modtage offentlig forsørgelse. Det føltes som om, at du blev betragtet som en tigger. Jeg var fattig, men også stolt og havde min værdighed. Jeg har aldrig været glad for at modtage arbejdsløshedspenge, og jeg har altid forsøgt at arbejde så meget, som jeg kunne, så jeg kun kunne modtage supplerende arbejdsløshedsunderstøttelse, og det fik mig til at tage en uddannelse, så jeg fortsatte bare i håbet om at finde noget, hvor jeg ikke skulle ydmyge mig selv. Denne form for stolthed kan jeg ikke forklare, hvor kommer fra. Det er ikke engang en national stolthed, men mere en individuel stolthed. Det er vigtigere for mig at kæmpe for menneskelig værdighed, fordi jeg skulle kæmpe så meget for den i Rumænien.
Jeg blev ved med at uddanne mig selv og fik en ph.d. og indså, at det er svært at aflæse systemet, når du er en fremmed. Du går som katten rundt om den varme gryde, som de siger på dansk, men du kan ikke rigtig komme derhen, fordi du ikke ve,d hvordan du skal spise den, så du forsøger i stedet af orientere dig.
Jeg har ikke været i kontakt med det rumænske samfund i Danmark eller Sverige, fordi jeg har valgt ikke at ville alliere mig med klagende rumænere, fordi de altid klager, mangler dit eller dat. Så jeg har lukket døren, og det er derfor, jeg ikke går med til rumænske begivenheder, fordi jeg vil ikke blive ved at være rumæner. Jeg vil gribe muligheden for at blive mig selv, fordi jeg kan, og det har jeg altid nydt Danmark for. Jeg har aldrig oplevet diskrimination, kun fra min kørelærer. Hun havde et problem med mig og min mand, fordi han var gift med mig og ikke en dansk pige. Men ellers har vi aldrig mødt nogen form for diskrimination.
Jeg er blevet mødt at en lille smule distance, men aldrig af diskrimination eller at nogen mennesker syntes, jeg var dum – tværtimod er jeg blevet mødt af beundring. Som fremmed i et fremmed land mangler jeg nogle basale ord. Du er blevet opdraget forskelliget med på en speciel måde. Jeg opdagede, at da jeg rejste tilbage til Rumænien denne sommer, behøvedes jeg ikke at lade som om eller spille en rolle. Jeg skulle ikke bruge kræfter på at være. Jeg kunne slappe af på den sociale arena, men jeg kan aldrig rigtig slappe af i den sociale arena i Danmark. Jeg har altid været opmærksom på, hvad der er foregået, og jeg tror, det er en del af at forsøge at være en del af virkeligheden her.
1988: Iulia came to Denmark before the collapse of communism in Romania
Interview by Sahra-Josephine Hjorth
“I left one year before it all fell into pieces. I mean before the Berlin Wall fell. I left in February 1988 and I guess the revolution in Romania came at the end of 1988 if I’m not. I returned to Romania for the first time since 1988 this year. So I left in the worst time in the communist regime. It was really a dramatic shift for me to move from Romania, which was a country that was in many ways politically oppressed and restricted and also very strained economically. We had food, because everybody got food somehow, but it all had to be fixed and mingled and in guess a lot of struggle went into just survival.
I moved to Sweden with my father before coming to Denmark. My parents had divorced and my father had remarried. We were 4 children and it was an easy division process for them. Two to my mother and two to my father. My sister and I moved with my father to Stockholm. So to arrive in Stockholm and in this high kind of civilization, you know, luxury and surplus in all ways you know that was quite shocking. We took some time to get used to the smell, the scent, the perfume you know all these chemical flavors that I was very impressed by at the time.
We came from a poor middle class as background and this is when my parent had managed to move away from the countryside into town and get jobs at factories. My father he did very well. He was very conscious and advanced quite fast, so he became responsible for a team before he left Romania. My mother was a vendor and again she made a quite quick career in comparison to their background. So we were born in this family where both parents worked and we had sort of what we needed, and that was everything basic. We were not academic or in any kind of way, but a resourceful family beyond day-to-day survival.
My passion for studies, for literature and philosophy and poetry and some esthetic inclinations I had was not sort of a family background. When I came to Sweden I realized quite fast that I could pursue my inclinations, because I was now free, but also that I had possibilities. I was amazed that you could go to university without having to pay. I was amazed that people were equal, you know it was not like what your mother is or what you father is you are. People really didn’t count your background, but count more what you do in a specific context. It was very empowering for me. So a lot of fast, good changes happened and I had also my sister, my very bright little sister. She was very good at school in Romania and continued to be very good here. She did medicine studies and completed the studies and then realized the backside of the medal that there were no jobs guaranteed. I don’t know, at least in Romania if you managed to go to university you were sure to have a living for the rest of your days.
I studied roman languages and the humiliation to receive social welfare that was really humiliating. It felt like you were considered as a beggar. I remember my father exploited the system in Sweden to get some paid subsidy for me. He did that the first week I arrived in Stockholm. Today I’ve never forgiven him for doing that, because I didn’t come as a beggar. Perhaps I was poor but I was proud and I had my dignity. I’ve never been happy to take unemployment money and I always tried to work as much as I could, so I could only get supplementary unemployment money and that made me keep taking education, so I just continued in hope of finding something where I didn’t have to humiliate myself. This kind of pride I cannot explain where it comes from. It is not even a national pride but is like an individual pride. It is more important for me, since I had to fight so much for it in Romania, to keep my human dignity.
I kept educating myself and then I took a PhD and I realized that it is difficult to decode the system when you are a foreigner. You go like the cat around the hot porridge, as they say in Danish, and you cannot really get to it because you don’t know how to eat it, so you try to sort of orient yourself you know.
I have not been in touch with the Romanian community in Denmark or Sweden because I made a decision back in Stockholm, that I don’t want to make allies with complaining Romanians, because they are complaining all the time about, lacking this and that and not having this and that. So I sort of closed the doors and that is partially why I didn’t go to Romania events, because I didn’t want to keep being a nationalist Romanian. I wanted to take the opportunity of becoming myself because, I could do that and I always enjoyed Denmark for that.
I never felt any discrimination, only from my driving teacher, she had a problem with me and my husband being married and him not marrying a Danish girl, but otherwise I’ve never been met with any discrimination. I ‘ve been met with a little bit of distance but never with discrimination or that some people found me stupid, on the opposite, I’ve been met with admiration.
As a foreign in foreign country, some basic words are lacking. You have been raised differently and raised in a specific sort of way. I discovered that when I returned to Romania this summer. I didn’t have to pretend I didn’t have to play a role. I didn’t have to make an effort to be. I could sort of relax on the social arena and I could never really quite relax on the social arena here. I’ve always been at least very aware of what was going on, so I think this comes from trying to really really become a part of existence here.”
1990: Anne kom til Danmark fra Tyskland
Interview af ph.d.-studerende Sahra-Josephine Hjorth
I en stue på Frederiksberg går snakken livligt om Annes baggrund i Tyskland og om at være tysk indvandrer i Danmark. Som flere tyskere med katolsk opvækst har bemærket, så viser mange danskere en vis mistro og undren overfor katolicismen: “Da jeg kom til Danmark og skulle have mit cpr-bevis og mit arbejdsbevis, blev jeg spurgt om, hvilken konfession jeg havde. Hun spurgte, om jeg var kristen, og jeg svarerde “ja”. Så var hun ved at sætte kryds i folkekirken eller sådan noget. Så sagde jeg: “Jamen, jeg er altså ikke protestant, jeg er katolik.” “Nå,” sagde hun så og kiggede på mig, som om det var meget mystisk, at jeg havde sagt, at jeg var kristen. Det kunne hun ikke forstå.
Så sagde jeg: “Jeg er romersk-katolsk kristen”. Så kunne hun jo udfylde det et eller andet sted længere nede på sin blanket. Det var en kontordame, der ikke lige vidste så meget om religion. Hun kiggede på mig som om, jeg havde sagt noget forkert, da jeg havde sagt, jeg var kristen. Vi snakkede ikke mere om det.
Karakteristisk for tyske indvandrere i Danmark er, at de ikke er nemme af få øje på i gadebilledet. De ligner ofte danskere både fysisk og kulturelt og tilegner sig typisk det danske sprog ganske hurtigt. Er det rigtigt? Jeg tror, tyskere gør en stor dyd ud af at passe ind og ligne danskere. Altså vi vil ikke skille os ud, og det har nok også noget med vores historie at gøre. Vi er ikke så stolte af at være tyskere, så hvis folk går rundt og tror, vi er danskere, så er det fint. Så er jeg danskeren.
Jeg har mange kollegaer fra alle mulige lande og med forskellige hudfarver. I den sygeplejerskegruppe, jeg er i, har jeg en kollega fra Afrika, som kom hertil som flygtning, én som kom med sine forældre fra Pakistan, da hun var lille, og én med tyrkiske forældre, men som selv er født i Danmark og opvokset i Køge. Forleden var jeg ude for sådan en sjov situation. Der var en patient, hvor det var lidt svært at lægge en kanyle i hånden, fordi hun havde nogle meget skrøbelige blodkar, og jeg blev tilkaldt. Så stod de tre omkring hende – det var både Virginie fra Congo og Nevin, med tyrkiske rødder og Tabassam. De snakkede om, at de var fra tre forskellige lande. Så kom jeg ind i rummet og kiggede på den ældre dame, der sad der, og syntes det var meget sjovt.
Så sagde jeg, bare for at vende det lidt på hovedet, “men jeg er nok den eneste her, der ikke har et dansk pas”. “Har du ikke dansk pas?!”, sagde de alle tre. Det var lidt sjovt. Der er mange læger fra alle mulige steder i verden. Det er sjovt nogle gange, for tit tror patienten jo, når jeg kommer ind, at jeg er dansker. Jeg synes nogle gange, det er lidt sjovt at bryde den forventning ved at sige: “Nej, jeg er faktisk også indvandrer”. Eller når jeg har patienter, der har indvandrerbaggrgund, og de siger: “Åh, det er så svært at lære dansk.” Så siger jeg: “Hvor gik du på sprogskole? Jeg gik på sprogskole på Studieskolen.” “Nå, er du ikke fra Danmark?!”, siger de så. Så har man jo skabt en forbindelse, som folk ikke ser.
Jeg synes, det nogle gange er godt at forstyrre folks billede af sandheden og sige: “Jeg er også indvandrer. Godt nok “kun” tysker, men det er rigtig nok”.
1990: Anne came to Denmark from Germany
Interview by Sahra-Josephine Hjorth
In a living room in Frederiksberg, the main talking point is Anne’s German background and her life as a German immigrant in Denmark. As many other Catholic Germans, Anne has experienced a certain mistrust and wondering about Catholicism from the Danes. “When I arrived in Denmark and needed my cpr-number and my proof of work, I was asked, which confession I belonged to. She asked, if I was a Christian, and I responded with a ‘yes’. She was about to put a cross against the Lutheran Church of Denmark or something like that. Then I said: “But I am not a Protestant, I am a Catholic.” “Oh, well,” she said and looked at me as if it was very mysterious, that I had called myself a Christian. She couldn’t understand it.
Then I said: “I am a Roman-Catholic Christian.” Then she would be able to fill that information in somewhere on the blanket. She was a typist, who didn’t know as much about religion. She looked at me as if I had said something wrong, when I said, I was a Christian. We didn’t discuss it further.
Characteristic of the German immigrants in Denmark is the fact that they are easy to spot in the street scene. They often look like Danes both physically and culturally and they quickly acquire the Danish language. I think Germans make a virtue of fitting in and being like the Danes. That is, we don’t like to stand out, and it probably has something to do with our history. We are not proud to be Germans, so if people think, we are Danish, it is a good thing. Then I will be the Dane.
I have many co-workers from different countries and with different skin colours. In my nurse group, we have one co-worker from Africa, who came here as a refugee, one who came here with her parents from Pakistan, when she was a young girl, and one who is born and raised in Køge by Turkish parents. The other day, I experienced a very rum situation. We had trouble inserting a cannula into a patient’s hand, because she had very fragile blood vessels, and I was called into the room. We were three people there – Virginie from Congo, Nevin with Turkish roots and Tabassam. They were discussing, how they all come from different countries. When i entered the room, I looked at the old woman, who sat there and thought it was funny.
To turn things upside down, I said: “But I am probably the only one here, who doesn’t have a Danish passport.” “You don’t have a Danish passport,” all three of them said. That was kind of fun. There are so many doctors from different places in the world. It is funny sometimes, because the patient thinks, when I enter the room, that I am a Dane. Sometimes, I find it funny to go against these expectations by saying: “No, I am also an immigrant.” Or when I talk to patients who are also immigrant and they say: “Oh, it is so difficult to learn Danish.” Then I say: “Which was your language school? I went to Studieskolen.” “Oh, you are not from Denmark?!”, they say. Then you’ve created a connection, that people don’t usually see.
I find it good to disturb people’s perception of the truth and say: “I too am a immigrant. Only German, but it is true.”
