| Everyone looks the same in Denmark |
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| Features | |
| Monday, 02 February 2009 | |
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It was her first time on an airplane. The year was 1969 and Pang Boon Tu was visiting her sister in Denmark, thinking she was coming for a holiday, but almost 40 years later she’s still here. “I don’t know what I was expecting. I didn’t realize it would be so cold,” she says with a grin. “And everyone looked the same. I wasn’t used to seeing so many Westerners at the same time!” Welcomed with open arms Immigration in Denmark dates back to 1521 when King Christian the Second invited Dutch craftsmen to profit from their expertise in producing high-quality farming equipment. Polish, German and Russian immigrants arrived throughout the 1700s and 1800s. After the Second World War, German refugees streamed to the country and during the Sixties and Seventies, large groups of migrants from Eastern Europe, Asia and the Middle East began coming. It was during this time, Pang Boon Tu arrived in Denmark from Singapore. On the third day of her arrival, she started working at a factory. “It was so easy to get work back then. You didn’t need any papers. You just went to the police station with your passport.” Her younger sister had arrived the year before and convinced Pang Boon Tu to come and see for herself. And what had started out as a holiday, became a new life. She felt safe in Denmark and found Danes friendly. “People would come up to me in the bus and ask me where I came from and whether I liked living in Denmark. It was different in those days.” “Nowadays, people don’t even look at you, and if they do, you feel hostility from them,” she says. As with most Chinese in her generation, she keeps to herself and surrounds herself with the circle of friends she’s made over the years. Danish society is a peripheral part of her life. Banana syndrome It is different for her son, Will Foo, 34, who was born and grew up in Denmark. “It was like living in a world within a world,” he says. Coming home from school meant shedding all Danishness and embracing Chinese traditions and culture. “You got a guilt trip when your parents accused you of becoming too Danish.” He started realising, as he grew older, that he was neither Chinese nor Danish. He now works for a Danish company based in China where his particular experiences of both cultures serve him well. “I guess I’ve learnt to make the best of both worlds and it’s helped a lot in my career.” His story is similar to that of many second generation immigrants. Guo Yu Pan, 24, is currently studying for his second Masters degree and has mixed feelings about living in Denmark. “You’d be made fun of because you looked different. You got the whole ‘ching ching chong chong’ thing when you walked down the street.” He continues, “These things are not very apparent on a global scale. Tourists have an impression that everybody’s so open,” but as he points out, “That is just the first impression. Having stayed here a longer time, you realise that this is a closed culture.” Although he introduces himself as Danish, Guo Yu Pan still gets the ‘Where do you come from originally’ question which constantly reminds him that he is different. In university, his best friends are from the international body of students. “I say I am Danish, I speak Danish fluently, I’ve lived here my whole life, but I’m still not one of them.” Leaving home This dilemma is known all too well. Athena Chee who grew up in Copenhagen, went abroad to study and didn’t come back. She had found a safe haven in Canada where there was a thriving Chinese community. “I left Denmark because I couldn’t handle the visible minority prejudice there”, she continues, “I needed to feel that I belonged somewhere.” Moving to Asia is not an option for her either. Being called a banana is something many overseas Asians are familiar with – yellow on the outside and white on the inside. “Either way, you can’t win. In Canada, people think of me as Canadian as I speak English without an accent.” The Danish-Chinese experience is comparable to that of the Chinese Diaspora throughout the Western world. Indeed, the experience is likely to be similar to that of other immigrants. The issues of identity and tradition vs. modernity are no doubt comparable. In most cases, a sense of belonging is integral. For Pang Boon Tu, 40 years on, she still feels insecure in an all-Danish setting although Denmark is the only place she can call home. “I’m used to it now,” she smiles. “Go back to Singapore? No, I’ve lived here all of my adult life. I know my son has had a rough time here, but despite everything, this is where I live.” |
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