The Man from Jerusalem

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I just met a man. He sets up shop in Gammeltorv, the square just down the street, and sells jewelry and hats. I hadn't planned on chatting - I just wanted to buy an earring. As I wandered up to his stand, he said "Hello, if you need help with something, tell me, I'll help you. Are you French?"

"No, I'm Canadian." (I know this is a lie, but sometimes I lie about being from Canada. Occassionally, especially in Chile, it elicits a completely different reaction than being from the U.S. This man didn't care - Canadian and American were equal in his book.)

"Canadian, eh? You work at the school here?"

"Well, I go to the school..."

"Yes, yes - that's what I mean, you are working by studying at the school."

"Oh, yeah. Where are you from?"

"I'm from Jerusalem. That's the problem with Danes, with Denmark. They don't ask. You ask me where I'm coming from - they don't ask that. They don't want to just talk. They have to have a reason to talk, not just to talk."

He's been here for 25 or 26 years, but he doesn't like it. He lives with a Danish woman, his wife I presume, and he has a son. That's why he is here, because his son is here. He doesn't like the cold and there is nothing here for him. "The Danes are closed. In America, in Canada they are more open. I have a Canadian friend and we fight-"

"-but at least you're talking."

"-yes, we talk and we fight and we don't talk for a month, two months, and then we hug and we talk again. Danes - they don't do that. They don't talk. They don't want to know."

I wish I could transcribe everything this man said, but he spoke so fast and our conversation was all too brief because it started to snow. He mumbled something about misreading the weather report, and he decided to pack up and go home.

What struck me so much was not how separate this man felt from the Danes, but how he wanted them to know, wanted them to ask where he is from, who he is. When we talk about integration and immigrants, it seems like we often try to gloss over those differences. There is a tension in this country, which can definitely be perceived as racial, and is frequently perceived as racial by the students from the States, where we have a different, more heterogeneous cultural history. We think it's rude to ask where someone is from, to assume they are not "really" Danish. And of course this is different with every individual, but I feel like the story I ususally get in class and on our academic excursions is one that doesn't want to explore this difference, to ask. Which is weird because Danes are known for being straightforward, saying what they mean without wrapping it up in niceties and apologies.

I think there is a lot to learn here. Luckily this man is outside with his jewelry stand often, and I will need another earring at some point. I look forward to talking with him again.

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Comments

[bailey337]

Erin
Great blogs!! Enjoy your study abroad time! I loved Europe when I went, great pics too!