Spaces

Aalborg, Denmark

Space.  An area that is used or available for a specific purpose.  We often don’t think about the context of space and how we occupy it.  It’s just there for us to use, or so we think.  I visited two centers for refugees seeking asylum in Denmark, which gave me a whole new appreciation for space. It was something I will never forget, a humbling and emotional experience beyond measure.  An experience I have to share.

Refugees are different from immigrants.  Refugees are fleeing their home country because their lives are in danger, while immigrants are leaving their country for better opportunities.  When a refugee seeks asylum, they are requesting the new country to grant them a type of citizenship that will allow them to work and live like any other person.  However, the path to asylum, as you can imagine, is far from easy.  Brovst Refugee and Asylum Center is located in Aalborg, a city in Western Denmark.  Upon arrival, my class and I were received with smiles, handshakes, and excitement.  The refugees were honored that they got to share their stories and their space with us. Go figure.  They told us of their harrowing journeys to Denmark, cooked an authentic Pakistani and Somalian meal for us (one of the best meals I have EVER had) and showed us around the camp and center.  Things were not easy, but the refugees had hope.  The camp/center was located in the countryside, 45 minutes outside of the city, and it happened to be a beautiful, warm day.  Although we had been fed heavy information, we left feeling almost light-hearted.  We had had a great visit.  Their hope had given us the idea that maybe things really weren’t that bad for refugees seeking asylum after all.

The wonderful meal we ate at Brovst. 

Later in the week we visited a place in Copenhagen called, trampolinhuset or "Trampoline House" in English. This house is like a YMCA for refugees.  A safe space where refugees can get a break from the camps and engage with each other through activities, clubs, and so on. It is a space that is needed, because the life of a refugee is not as tolerable as those at Brovst made it seem.

Camp tour at Brovst

Google image of the outside of trampolinhuset

When we arrived the vibe was completely different.  No warm handshakes, and barely any smiles. At Brovst, we spoke only to men, while at Trampoline we got the female perspective.  We were not prepared.  One woman especially touched me, and I believe she touched my entire class.  She and her young son had fled the Congo and were seeking Asylum in Denmark.  However, Danish Immigration would not accept her and her child and sent them back to Africa on a few occasions.  There was another problem; her home country no longer accepted her either.  She looked me in my eyes as she attempted to tell her story through the tears.  She lived in a camp, but it was nothing like Brovst.  It was 3 hours away from civilization with terrible conditions, and she was a woman, in a camp filled with men.  I get emotional every time I think of this woman.  I still see her eyes.  She looked at the class with tears streaming down her face and said, “you don’t know how it feels to be a woman, until you’ve been raped over and over.  I’ve thought about killing myself, but my son keeps me holding on.  It’s even harder being a child growing up in the camps, without parents.”  It was at this point that the “presentation” was over.  Silence.  I could barely look at her as I wanted to prevent the uncontrollable sobbing that was building in my throat.  Why were we here??  We were not worthy of her vulnerability.  We had planned to stay the entire day, but as a collective decided it was best to leave.  We were in the way. 

During the class discussion that took place after the visit, my colleague said it best,  “Every space is ours, and we came into their space, and made it ours too.”  Space.  It’s a relative term, but it can have more meaning than we think.  Why are people so quick to occupy a space that is not meant for them? I still have no answer to my own question because I think it goes deeper than what I can say in a blog post.  But it is something to think about, and something that I will continue to think about.  Space may be nothing to one person, but mean the world to another.  Most spaces belong to someone or something. When going into a new or unknown space that is not meant for you, there is an immediate change in vibe, whether it is good or bad. We have to think outside of ourselves, and consider the alterations that another person’s space has been given, due to our presence.

My Cross-Cultural Psychology class at Brovst Refugee and Asylum Center.

*There were no pictures taken at Trampoline House.