The diary of a Pakistani Millennial in Norway continues with a look at gender and multiculturalism in Norway.

Being a woman is tough in this male-dominated world. Or so I’ve heard say many times. Add to the list attributes such as Muslim and Pakistani, and it’s a wonder that they get by in life with any ease.

Read more: From Islamabad to Klepp

And yet, here I am, living, breathing, and quite frankly, enjoying life—a fact that many here in Norway are surprised at when they see me.

An arranged marriage

Mine was an arranged marriage, which means that I only met my husband after we were already married. In Pakistan that is usually the case. So, it’s not a wonder that a common phrase has been chalked out to explain the phenomena:  ‘a wedding is like a lottery; you either win big or you lose’. Mine has proven to be a jackpot!

So, when I first arrived here in Klepp to join my husband, I was quite taken aback at the surprise people felt after I interacted with them. This included the doctor, midwife, nurse and a few others. Apparently, they could not fathom that I, a Pakistani Muslim woman, newly-married and that too arranged could seem so happy!

And ‘wow! Your English is so good!’ Well, yes, my English needed to be good if I wanted to teach at the university level back home, I would think to myself while offering them a polite smile.

Read more: How to get married in Norway

‘It’s so good to see that you are happy!’ was another comment after witnessing me laugh at one of my husband’s jokes at a dinner party we hosted. ‘You don’t look like a Pakistanisk at all, you look Indiansk!’ I was told, much to my consternation at another gathering.

Surprise below the surface

Now, don’t get me wrong, these comments and many others like them, were all said in good faith. Yet the surprise hidden just beneath the surface pinched my heart every time. It still niggles at the back of my mind sometimes, and I feel like a lab rat under constant scrutiny of vigilant eyes of some unseen entity, as if being a happy, successful, empowered Muslim woman is something out of the ordinary.

It shouldn’t be like this. After all, how often do we question the happiness of a local couple who just upped and got hitched on a whim? If spontaneous actions such as these are the norm, then why not the local traditions and cultures of other nations understood to be the norm in their context? Such is human nature, I suppose.

The fear of the unknown; suspicion of the outsider… Or perhaps it is merely the fact that we humans have a tendency to group together similar items in our minds.

Cue: dark skin female with a covered head = Muslim, which also ‘naturally’ leads most of us to believe that a Muslim woman must be a victim of heavy-handedness, cruelty and neglect. Note the word ‘most’. And so the next emotion that often accompanies this mental calculation is that of sympathy.

Immigration to Norway

Norway is a rich country, both in terms of its wealth and beauty of its people and the landscape. Over the years, the changing global political situation and the burgeoning human crisis in many parts of the world has led Norway to be the host to a number refugees fleeing from their native lands.

Read more: Norway Immigration Guide

Ever since my arrival in this sleepy little town a year ago, I’ve seen : Somalians, Eritreans, Syrian, Turkish and a few Afghan too. Many of them are survivors, having faced war and conflict and barely made it here alive, while others have come here as an escape from the economic hardship and poverty in the hopes of earning a decent living and simply surviving.

The Norwegians seem proud of their ability to provide these refugees, most of whom have barely made it here, with a sense of security, freedom and lifestyle that would have otherwise not been possible for them. Their problems and realities back home are looked upon with great pity by the local population, who offer them help and moral support.

But there's a catch

Yet there's a catch. Pity and sympathy when used in such context can often have paternalistic or condescending overtones.

For instance, while talking with some of the locals about the refugees fleeing warzones, I got the sense that many were of the view that since they’ve been kind enough to host these war-torn people, the new-entrants should rid themselves of all the baggage from their previous homeland. They should embrace the Norwegian way—whether it is the culture, language, work ethic or the everyday quirks.

But what is difficult to understand is that integration does not happen overnight. Nor is it so easily achievable. Of course, human nature demands constant change and adaptation in order to survive.

That being said, in my opinion it kind of defeats the purpose of integration and multiculturalism if there exists such low tolerance to acknowledge different cultures and world views. Instead, a bit of empathy goes a long way. I strongly believe that formulating immigrant policies while keeping an empathetic mindset can achieve far more efficient results than one that only takes a monolithic, rigid approach.

The attitude towards immigrants and refugees

In my quest to learn about the local politics and the general attitudes of the public about the issue of immigrants and refugees here in Norway, I spent a good few days poring over the internet, reading up on research articles and newspapers. What I found as a result was quite thought-provoking.

Firstly, the political spectrum of Norway is one complex set of confusing colours and misleading names. I mean, the Progress Party is not really all that progressive. Then there's the whole red-green shebang that I still can’t get my head around! Secondly, Norwegians are quite contradictory in their opinions and attitudes, especially when it comes to allowing new entrants to ‘share the pie’ so to speak.

Like many other aspects, Norwegians seem to have a particular view of certain things, and immigration is one of them.

For instance, according to a report in 2018 on the attitudes towards immigrants and immigration published by Statistics Norway, 29% of Norwegians strongly agreed that most immigrants make an important contribution to Norwegian working life, 34% strongly believed that most immigrants enrich the cultural life in Norway, while only 7% Norwegians strongly agreed that most immigrants are a cause of insecurity in society.

Read more: Scepticism of Immigrants falling in Norway

This would lead one to believe that issues such as integration of the immigration population and their acceptance would be looked upon favourably; yet interestingly enough, around 29% of the Norwegian general public agreed that compared to today, refugees' and asylum seekers' access to residence permits in Norway should be made more difficult.

Outspoken politicians

Another baffling thing I learnt was the rigid views of the former Minister of Immigration and Integration, Sylvi Listhaug regarding immigration and Muslims in general. In all honest opinion, I found them outrightly xenophobic and Islamophobic at times.

For instance, her comments related to immigrants such as, “We are fully aware that there are wolves in sheep’s clothing”; and “Fundamentalists who hate our Norwegian system are coming to exploit the boundless Norwegian naivety,” among many others reveal how selectively prejudice she has been.

Statements such as these clearly reveal the lack of understanding there is at the plight of those running for their lives and in desperate need of shelter and protection. Herein lays the basic difference between pity and empathy, the latter of which is so obviously lacking in this case.

Nonetheless, the fact that she was forced to resign as Minister of Immigration due to her fiery and offensive rhetoric proves the true values of the Norwegian political system. It makes me optimistic that despite such acute differences on issues such as multiculturalism, identity, belongingness, and integration, there is yet sufficient space to debate and to find a middle ground. Not only the Norwegian society but for the new entrants into the system.

The post Of Being a Woman, Empathy and Multiculturalism in Norway appeared first on 51łÔšĎÍř.

I’ve always found it fascinating how people identify themselves; what identity-markers they use in a particular situation.

Moving to Norway to join my husband, who works here, has given me another wonderful opportunity to observe this phenomenon.

First impressions of Klepp

I came to last year fully expecting a bustling metropolis, with skylines, crazy traffic and countless people on the go with their noses in their smartphones and little time to look around and relax.

So, it was quite a shock to land at Sola airport and see just how ‘relaxed’ it all was. Everything from the security people, the airport staff and the whole ‘air’ of the place.

It was an even bigger shock to see not a single high-rise building in the vicinity of my new home that I share with my husband. And so my first impression of Norway, and indeed Klepp, was that of underwhelming surprise. Like the morning tea that you’ve been eagerly waiting for arrives too late, too cold and too bland!

For me, this sleepy little town was the exact opposite of what I was used to: too many playgrounds and parks, but too few people to enjoy them!

Empathy through travelling

As someone who had to change several schools—and cities—because of my father’s job, I’ve learnt what it means to be regarded as the ‘other’.

Empathy, to me, is one of the most important traits one could adopt. As a child I was raised in the UK because of my father’s studies and later as part of his job responsibilities. I, as a Pakistani Muslim, remained a minority for the most part of my childhood and schooling years.

When we returned to Pakistan, I became an outsider despite having the same ethnic and religious background as my other classmates. By the time I joined university, I had resigned myself from ever fitting in.

Yet, interestingly enough, my new classmates—most of whom belonged to far-off, economically deprived areas of the country—viewed me as a privileged individual of the majority class by virtue of my ethnic and sectarian identity.

Unexpectedly, I, like many others like me, was expected to extend a hand towards others; those underprivileged individuals who were misunderstood by the state and the majority.

Being part of a class full of students with diverse backgrounds and cultures, I found myself struggling to navigate through conversations that were full of scorn towards the state for ignoring and polarising a significant part of society from the mainstream. This was perhaps the first time I seriously considered studying issues of identity, culture and politics in detail.

Read more: The Debate on Structural Racism in Norway

While I prided myself on my ability to identify with and understand others’ points of view, I had never considered transferring that interest to research. I spent most of my Masters immersed in passionate discussions about the Pashtun, Sindhi and Baloch culture and how identity fit in the narrative of conflict. In particular, I could not wrap my head around how feelings of distinctiveness give way to violent conflict.

Identity and belonging

Life in Klepp seems a world away from these issues; and yet, if I truly think about it, identity, conflict and belongingness, or the lack of, aren’t all that irrelevant here either!

When I first came here, even a simple task such as crossing the road was in itself an experience for me. Not because of crazy traffic, honking about and refusing to give way; rather the opposite!

While I would stand on the side of the road as I was used to all my life and wait for the road to clear of cars and vehicles, in Norway I found cars stopping all the way away from the zebra crossing to allow the pedestrians to cross the road first.

Apparently the pedestrians have the first right to cross the road on a zebra crossing. This was miles away from how its done back home: in some of the larger cities traffic, that mainly includes motorbikes, motor rickshaws and vans, is so unruly that one has to cross the road at one’s own peril. Believe me, I have tried several times!

One morning in October last year, on my daily commute to the language school on my bus, we had to wait for several minutes before a zebra crossing because the driver insisted that a lady with a stroller cross the road first despite her doing the exact thing for the bus! In my opinion, it says a lot about a nation’s moral values how they behave out on the road.

A visit from the Prime Minister

Back in September last year, I spotted a sign around the local shopping centre announcing its expansion and the arrival of the Prime Minister in the opening ceremony. Coming from a relatively politically aware family, it was a very appealing idea to witness first-hand another country’s head of the state interact with its people.

Klepp, on that day had more people out on the streets than ever. It was a treat watching people out and about, where previously the shopping centre had been nearly empty! That day I also got to witness a real-life protest here in Norway. The issue: ‘Bompenger’.

Less than a hundred people gathered outside the main tent where the PM was to deliver her address, with placards and posters protesting against the road toll tax, chanting ‘nok er nok! (enough is enough!). Although at the time, my husband and I were grappling with our phones, connecting to google translate in an attempt to translate the slogans on the placards!

Peaceful political protests

Some of the protesters had managed to get into the tent and interestingly enough sat quietly on the benches with their posters. The moment that the PM came on stage to deliver her speech, these protesters silently stood up and turned their backs towards the stage with their placards facing the stage. Once the PM had finished her speech, the protesters turned back and sat down again.

Now, I don’t claim to be an expert of protests; yet I’ve had the chance to witness quite a few. And I must admit this had to be the most peaceful, the most silent one ever! A few days later I saw another group of around 25-30 people and 6-7 cars passing by outside our home with placards and chanting the now-familiar ‘nok er nok’ chant.

Different from protests in Pakistan

For many developing countries, Pakistan included, the system is more fixated on counting the number of protestors and the forceful means through which they show their strength rather than the issues they are protesting about. The bigger the better; the more violent, the more likely it is for the government to address the issue.

Last year in November, the apex court in Pakistan acquitted from all charges Asia Bibi, a Christian woman who had been sentenced to death in 2010. Within hours of the judgement, protesters backed by the Tehreek-e-Labbaik Pakistan (TLP), a rabid, fast-growing political party that exists solely to punish blasphemers, brought the major towns and cities to a virtual standstill in protest over the acquittal.

Private-owned cars and motorbikes were burnt; ambulances were forced to be stuck for hours on end as traffic was halted; businesses closed; schools, colleges and universities were shut by authorities and thousands of citizens were left stranded with no way to reach their offices.

Such was the chaos and the impunity of the protesters that their leaders continued to spew hate-speech for days, in some cases calling for the army to mutiny against its leaders if they supported the decision of the court and declaring the judges that issued the judgement liable for death!

Yet despite all the mayhem, the government in office was forced to bow down to the protesters and to concede some major concessions including the freeing of all protesters that had been imprisoned for disturbing the law and order situation in the country despite issuing strongly-worded warnings to them previously.

The reason was not that anyone in the government had any soft spots for the cause of the protesters; rather that in Pakistan, parties and groups having the street-power and the ability to bring cities to a standstill more-often-than-not get their way.

It was the same with the Muttahida Qaumi Movement (MQM), which by the 1980s had become the sole most prominent party in urban Sindh with the most street power. The brutal strength and sheer force employed by the party’s workers enabled MQM to literally rule Karachi, the largest metropolis of Pakistan, prompting critics to refer to it as a militant, even fascist organisation.

Conduct during conflict

In Norway, as is with most western societies, things are done quite differently. After witnessing the ‘thirty-people protest’ as I have begun calling it, I learnt that the government had decided to abolish the toll tax between Bryne and Klepp.

Where previously I had naĂŻvely laughed at the small number of protestors, I now marvelled at the governance and democratic traditions of the country- after all, it speaks volumes about a nation how they conduct themselves in times of conflict and difference of opinion.

The Norwegians may have numerous issues and disputes with its government yet they are fortunate to have a system which addresses the problems of its people quickly and efficiently- something that we Pakistanis would fare well to learn from!

Norway has so far proven to be a beautiful place with beautiful people. Yet, as is with humans, there are also a lot of contradictions and paradoxes to be found here. Still though, it seems I’m all set to continue interacting with new people, learning, unlearning and relearning right along with them, and to truly understand the ‘alternate perspectives’.

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