Danish Classes: Part 2: Frisind & Alcohol

  

Note: Parts 0 and 1 of these posts are here and here, respectively. The only connection among the three is they are all inspired by the Danish language classes I took during my first three years in Denmark. This one was the hardest to write, just like the Danish homework that inspired it. I made the first attempt in October 2022, before writing Part 1. This was my third attempt.

 

We start a new book chapter titled “Dansk Frisind” in Danish class.

The literal translation of “frisind” would be “free mind”, a more nuanced translation could be “tolerance”. “Dansk Frisind” is usually translated as “Danish liberal way of thinking”. The first page of the chapter gives the following as supporting examples of Dansk Frisind: Danes don’t mind hanging out naked at the beach and allow teenagers to drink alcohol. Based on these facts, we are asked to discuss with our classmates how our home countries compare to Denmark in terms of frisind.

Giving over-generalized statements about my country, where almost 85 million people live, is something I dislike very much. When I moved abroad back in 2009, I didn’t know that I would have to be a representative for that many million people at various language classes and work events. To me, this is a burden that I didn’t sign up for. On the one hand, if I go ahead with stereotypes for the sake of keeping things uncomplicated, I risk erasing my own identity and the identities of many others that are dear to me. On the other hand, especially in a language class, I neither have the time nor the vocabulary to explain things in a non-black-and-white manner.

I know this challenge isn’t unique to me. Based on the stereotypes of our countries and the initial examples given for “Dansk Frisind” in the book, none of us in the classroom come from places that have “Dansk Frisind”.

To give credit to Danes, they have more meaningful (at least to me) examples to support their frisind. In Denmark, women earned the right to vote in 1915, abortion became legal in 1973, same-sex couples were given the right to be recognized as domestic partners in 1989 ... While not the first except for the last example, Danes were relatively ahead of many other countries in the world. The book mentions these facts later in the same chapter, but first we have to discuss the nude people and drunk teenagers.

 

During the discussions, to my non-surprise, a couple of my classmates express surprise after learning that I come from a family where the majority are Muslims.

Their reactions remind me of the questions I sometimes have to answer as the unintentional representative of a religion in the Western world.

“Do you (have to) cover your head when you go back home?”

No, unless I visit a mosque. When it comes to my hair, the only religion I follow is the Hair musical.

Among the women of my close family, my grandmother (mom’s mom) was the only one who wore a headscarf based on her religious beliefs and personal choice. In my extended family, there are others who wear headscarves as well.

“Are you allowed to drink in Turkey?”

Yes. The legal drinking age is 18, but my parents and bars allowed me to drink even younger. Till I was 16, I didn’t like the taste, though. In my early teens, I sincerely believed I wouldn’t drink as an adult. That didn’t turn out to be true.

“Are there any churches in Turkey?”

Yes, a quick internet search says over 300. Many Muslim-identified members of my family like to visit churches as much as mosques when they wish to pray inside a religious house. My mom and her sister are among them. They took me to both mosques and churches when I was a kid. As far as I know, the synagogues in Turkey aren’t open to public; you need a permission to enter for security reasons. They would have gone to the synagogues as well, otherwise.

“Are there any atheists in Turkey?”

Yes, I called one of them uncle. He died when I was 10. I have some of his belongings with me at home in Copenhagen today. They moved with me from place to place. One of those belongings is his copy of The Last Temptation of Christ. His library in general was the best source I had in Turkey when it came to learning about religion(s).

“Why don’t you fast?”

While I am legally registered as a Muslim in Turkey, I had a secular upbringing. I neither identify with nor practice any organized religion beyond some basic traditions. For example, I used to call my grandmother when the Ramadan holiday started to acknowledge the day. This is similar to wishing people “Merry Christmas” or “Happy Hanukkah”. On the other hand, I called my grandmother every Sunday regardless, when she was alive.

…

 

My experiences are my own. They are not representative of the entire Turkish population or Muslim families, but neither are the stereotypes of Turkish and Muslims families. Such stereotypes trigger questions and surprise reactions like the ones above, which in turn trigger me.

I know I am being unreasonable when I get frustrated by having to answer these questions or facing people’s surprise reactions. As Sister in Movies reminded me while I was venting one such frustration, it is better that people are curious and ask questions when they don’t know something rather than make assumptions. As someone who chose to become a professor, I want people to feel safe when they ask me questions. Also, I don’t know everything about every other country or culture either, so I would like to be able to ask questions to others without frustrating them.

On the other hand, these questions are like bullets from a loaded gun, even if they aren’t intended that way. Religion is one of the strongest and most violent dividers of people. My Muslim-majority family is the main reason why I am “the other” in Europe. My secular-majority family is the main reason why I am “the other” in Turkey or among other Muslims. I have listened and been in the middle of countless heated political debates on alcohol, fasting, women’s hair … both in the context of Europe’s attitude towards Islam and secular vs non-secular camps in Turkey, both with strangers and dear friends and family members. I am not blind to the, at times brutal, consequences of these conflicts throughout history.

The cliché Western narrative for my case would be “stuck between two cultures”. I am not stuck; this is my culture. I have been realizing that part of getting older is to learn how to hold contradictions together without breaking apart. I would like to own my culture and welcome questions on it even if the answers are not straightforward and cause unease in me.

 

Let’s go back to Danish class.

One of the homework assignments in the “Dansk Frisind” chapter is writing an essay on the alcohol consumption in our home country in comparison to Denmark. In addition, the essay must discuss high alcohol consumption among teens and whether harder alcohol rules can prevent it.

Among all the homework I have done for the Danish classes, this one gives me the hardest time.

I know, instead of torturing myself, I can write something like “Danes drink a lot.” and “In Turkey, we like drinking rakı with meze dishes.”  and be done. The point of these Danish essay assignments is to prepare you for the essay section of the Danish language exam, which you have to pass if you want Danish permanent residency or citizenship. People who grade these exams don’t care about your arguments in the essay, they only care about whether you can create coherent and grammatically correct Danish text in concise space (max 4-5 paragraphs).

The problem is I care. The topic of alcohol is a loaded and political one, not just in Turkey but also in Denmark.

Why does this chapter showcase alcohol habits in Denmark as an example of frisind and then ask us to discuss prevention methods for high alcohol consumption of teens? Why does alcohol consumption pop up often in Danish news and in political debates? Why is Denmark the country that created a film like Druk (which I must admit I don’t like as much as it is beloved in the popular culture)?

How do I represent the attitude of 85 million people, who are Muslim-majority and range from extreme secular to extreme conservative and all the shades in between, toward alcohol? Rakı and meze dishes don’t cut it, and instead of trying to find a way to represent the 85 million, my mind keeps going back to one person, my grandfather, my mom’s dad.

My grandfather was a Muslim. He did the prayer 5 times a day going to the mosque for it almost every day. He fasted. He read passages from the Quran every night before going to bed. He was a small business owner. Once he owned a restaurant, among its frequent customers were the workers of a nearby brothel. For a long time, his primary source of income was the liquor shop he owned in one of the most religiously conservative districts of Istanbul called Eyüp. He got shot in front of that shop for not supporting the district’s right-wing groups. He survived the shooting but turned the shop into a regular market with no alcohol sales after that. After my mom finished elementary school, he decided that she should stop her education, but backed down after my grandmother’s fierce resistance. He didn’t force his two daughters to cover their hair. He took them to the beach wearing a bikini. He let them drink alcohol together with him when they were teens. He stopped drinking alcohol after one of his grandchildren died at the age of three. He didn’t interfere with anyone consuming alcohol at his house even after that.

My grandfather is one person, and hence doesn’t represent the 85 million. But the complexities in his story is to me more representative of Turkey’s relation to alcohol and frisind than any overly-simplistic generalization I can come up with for the essay I am supposed to write.

In the end, I don’t include my grandfather in the essay. My Danish isn’t good enough to do justice to his story and I don’t have the space to elaborate. I will likely get a low grade if I try. I know this grade doesn’t matter, but I need constructive feedback to prepare for the big exam. So, I write something simpler about not generalizing either Turkey or Denmark. I end it with “For at opsummere er generalisering generelt forkert.”, which is me quoting Butler Lampson’s “Generalizations are generally wrong.” advice from “Hints for Computer System Design”, which I also quote several times to my students in the courses I teach.

After completing this essay, I promise myself to become emotionally detached from any Danish homework topic.

 

In Notes on a Foreign Country: An American Abroad in a Post-American World, Suzy Hansen mentions that James Baldwin expressed feeling free in Istanbul as a gay black man. The city offered him the refuge he needed in the 1960s.

Last year, a German man I interacted with told me that the older conservative Germans like to say, “We should be harsher like Denmark in our immigration laws.”

A place not really known for its frisind may still be capable of giving you the kind of acceptance you need, and it doesn’t mean that a place that is considered a stellar example of frisind will welcome you with open arms. 

Maybe frisind is more about being open to the contradictions of people and places rather than creating strictly-shaped boxes for them.