The Wherewithal of Life. Michael Jackson

in Denmark.”

      “You felt sure you’d find work here?”

      “Yeah, I sincerely did. I knew people were more organized here, the system was more open, more efficient than back home, and I knew that I had an education I could use. I was also willing to work. I didn’t want to just come here and sit back—I never wanted that—so when I came and found that things were very different from what I’d imagined, it became a bit of a disappointment to me. Nanna will also tell you that I have always considered Denmark one of the best places to live.”

      “Did you speak any Danish at that time?”

      “Oh no, I didn’t even understand ‘good morning.’”

      “What kind of work did you think you would find here?”

      “Firstly, I knew that people in Denmark spoke English. Secondly, I had read a lot about Denmark in my university courses, and so I knew about the big international companies that are located here. Maersk, for example, has very big operations in Uganda. Thirdly, I knew of another company called Schmidt, a transportation company, so I knew there would be something I could do. Even if there was no work with these big international companies, I could do office work, or deskwork as they say, or drive, or do cleaning work. What I didn’t know was that even cleaners in this country have to have a special education. So when I came, I thought cleaning was simply a matter of getting a broom and, you know, dusting things and carrying dirty things. But no, cleaners have an education; there are institutions that train them. So that was the first blow, because the first job application I sent off was for a lowly job. I’ve always had this view that to get satisfaction in your career you should start from a lower level and feel that you’re actually growing with an organization, so I thought that entering an organization as a messenger or a cleaner would help me get a better understanding of the organization, help me learn the language faster, become socialized, and probably make friends. What I didn’t know was that even if you wanted to be a messenger there was a proper administration for that.”

      “Did you have a work permit at this time?”

      “After I went back to Uganda to finish my degree, I had to wait more than six months before I was permitted to return to Denmark and start a new life there with Nanna.”

      Emmanuel called to Nanna, who was in the bedroom with Maria, reading a story. Emmanuel asked Nanna to explain the bureaucratic obstacle course she had had to run.

      “First,” Nanna said, “I had to prove that I earned enough to support us both. I had to show the Danish authorities my pay slips, because it was not permitted for my parents to help with our living expenses. I was still a student, writing up my thesis. So I had to postpone finishing the thesis and find work. Then I had to put up a guarantee of fifty thousand Danish kroner, which was roughly equivalent to ten thousand American dollars. This money had to be available to the state in case Emma and I became a burden on Danish society. The money had to be available for seven years but would be reduced gradually as Emma acquired skills in Danish language and knowledge of local customs. Even so, I had to relinquish my rights to Danish social security, even though every Danish citizen is entitled to it. For as long as our marriage lasted, I would not be permitted to receive anything from the state. These were the financial obstacles. But an evaluation would have to be made to see whether our attachment to Denmark was stronger than our attachment to Uganda. How could Emma show attachment to Denmark, when he had never lived here? Then we had to have our apartment evaluated to see if it was big enough for both of us and that it was not rented. We had to actually own it. Finally, we both had to sign papers where we agreed to follow all the new government initiatives for integrating migrants into Danish society—learning Danish language and customs in a relatively short time and agreeing to DNA testing in case we were genetically related. All these requirements had to be satisfied; otherwise the state had every right to send Emma back to Uganda. Michael, I cannot tell you what it is like living under this pressure. And in a country, my country, internationally know for its humanism.”

      “So I returned here in the summer of 2003,” Emmanuel said. “I had only just arrived when I received a letter from the municipality stating all the necessary steps to be taken for becoming integrated into Danish society, which of course we had to agree to. I was required to attend a cultural and language institution, where I spent the next one and a half years learning Danish and learning about Danish culture. The process included meeting and making new friends, learning about life in Denmark, the Danish kitchen, the school system, the legal and political systems. Showing I was not here to suck the state coffers dry.”

      In the summer of 2004, Nanna helped Emmanuel find seasonal employment as a guide for a tourist company, welcoming people off cruise ships, advising them on sightseeing, and escorting them to the airport. In 2005, Emmanuel discovered that he could enroll at the Copenhagen Business School, where courses were in English and required no fees.

      During this time, he continued to network, send out job applications, and attend four-week training programs organized by the municipality. But even after completing his master’s at CBS, Emmanuel could not find a job.

      “I would provide every kind of information, describe my abilities, say what I was willing and able to do, but nothing happened. I wanted to work in Denmark and pay Danish taxes as a thank-you for having received a free education at CBS. This was my genuine desire, to work and pay back taxes. Why? Because I come from a country where schooling is not free. There is no way you can wake up one morning and get such a very high standard of education free of charge. This only happens in some of the wealthier countries of the world. At first, I wasn’t so pressured. I said to myself, ‘Well, it’s just the beginning. I’ve only been here for two years, three years, four years, five years, so it’s okay.’ Then I began giving myself excuses: the jobs are going to people who have been here longer than me; I need better qualifications. But then it dawned on me that this had become a permanent problem. It was a little easier in the summer, because I had that part-time job to look forward to. But there was a catch. You’re not allowed to work beyond a certain number of hours per week. If you go over the limit, you miss out on your right to receive unemployment benefits. But even if you work as many hours as you’re allowed, you still may not earn as much as the unemployment benefit. So staying home and doing nothing often earns you more money than going out and working in these part-time jobs. I was not used to sitting at home and receiving cash payments for doing nothing. I don’t want to be a man who sits at home while his wife goes out and works. I’m not lame, I’m not blind, I’m not deaf. Even people with those disabilities find work, so what’s wrong with me? I have an education, two degrees. I didn’t care where I found work, even if it was in Jylland. Because Nanna was an anthropologist, we had agreed that she might end up getting a job anywhere in the world. We had agreed to go where the work took us, to Indonesia, to Greenland, to Brazil. But it was trickier for me, because I could easily find work in Kenya or Uganda, and Nanna had a problem with that. I couldn’t understand her. I asked myself, ‘Why is it that Nanna prefers me sitting here, being upset, being demoralized, to letting me go where I can find a job?’ This compounded my frustrations, because Nanna seemed unwilling to go to places where I could find work, even though I was willing to go anywhere her work took us.

      “At the same time, I was struggling inside myself with the fact that even when I tried to explain why I was not working, I wasn’t sure whether I had the right explanation, whether it was because I was Ugandan, whether it was because I had studied the wrong things and was unemployable, or whether it was because I was going to the wrong companies or something like that. But then I would contradict myself by saying, ‘Well, there’s no company without a finance department, and this is what I am qualified to do, so why can’t they just give me a job or at least try me out, put me on probation?’ My complaint was that the government was trying to help people find work, but it had created so many rules and regulations that life had become unlivable. They want to make sure you’re not here under false pretenses, but they make life impossible for you. I don’t want to get handouts from the government. I want to work and earn money and keep my family. I don’t want to get money from a government that I’m not working for. So the war within myself has been over whether to sacrifice my relationship with Nanna and Maria by going to Uganda and finding work, or to stay here as