I. Pre-Denmark

Each place I’ve lived in has brought out a different side of me and affected how I view myself and the world. Southern California, where I grew up, is incredibly diverse, and where I’m from, the majority of people are Asian or Hispanic and have immigrant parents. Since I was part of the majority, my family and racial background were never a big part of my self-perception while growing up, even though it’s clearly influenced who I am today.

In this environment, I grew up with great appreciation for different cultures and the unique perspectives they brought with them. I had friends who were in the U.S. because of the Dream Act or a green card and had been waiting for citizenship for over a decade. Many of my friends’ family were from Vietnam, like mine, but we all spoke different languages, like Cantonese, Chiuchow, Hakka, Khmer, and more. An unspoken comfort of this environment is that you never have to explain your background, because everyone has been to exposed to your culture and gets it to some level. So, you never feel too different, even if they are super different from you. 

Of course, as a kid, I didn’t think too deeply about all this; rather, my appreciation manifested itself as a love for food. Some of my favorite memories are centered around food, and there are few places with a better food scene than Los Angeles. You can have some amazing Korean barbeque in the heart of Koreatown and then head down a few blocks east for some marvelous matcha ice cream in Little Tokyo. Ethiopia, Bangladesh, and China are all far apart on a map, but their enclaves are in close proximity in LA. My family would regularly make 20-minute drives to Avenue 26 to enjoy street tacos in the dusty evening air.

On the other hand, frugality is also a big value in this environment—which can be good—but it can also get extreme and turn into financial anxiety. Pursuing your dreams is considered a rather privileged concept, unless it’s a dream that’s stable and pays well. These were two values that caused me the greatest culture shock when coming to MIT. I realized that most people don’t get anxious about money and try to over-optimize their dollar. Their parents could afford to put them in extracurricular activities as a kid, owned a house, planned family vacations, and planned ahead for college. Many were genuinely passionate about what they were doing and didn’t only think about salary. It felt like everyone had developed their interests and identity more than I had. Of course, everyone has their own challenges I don’t know about—even if all seems good on the surface—and I am grateful for many things in my life. It was just a big transition for me.

Though difficult, this environment opened a whole new world of ideas, perspectives, and experiences. Home could be stifling, and I really enjoyed the challenge and freedom MIT offered. It pushed me to establish an identity and figure out my values, and it gave me the independence to do so. I found friends who were genuinely interested in who I was and encouraged me towards my goals. I met people from all around the world. I tried all sorts of new activities and slowly expanded my desire for a secure financial future to one that also incorporated doing things that align with my values. 

The diversity of SoCal and MIT sparked in me a desire to see the world and learn from different people, but as I grew older, the more I wanted to live in different places rather than only take vacations abroad. When I stay in a place long enough to establish friendships, different parts of my personality or identity reveal themselves, helping me reflect on them more. 

Prior to my arrival, I’d been warned about “cozy racism,” but I personally haven’t experienced that so far. As far as I can tell, what’s actually prevalent is ignorance about non-Western cultures and a tendency to categorize all Asians as Chinese.

II. Denmark – Hygge

Denmark is much more homogenous and geographically smaller than the U.S. It has strict immigration laws, most citizens are of Danish origin, and Christianity has heavily influenced Danish history and culture, even though most people aren’t very religious. For the second time in my life (first time was in Georgia, the country 🇬🇪), I’m living in a place where I’m genuinely in the minority, which has the effect of making me more conscious of my racial background—though not necessarily in a bad way. I’m working at University of Copenhagen, which is full of international students, but I’m still one of the very few Asian people here. Prior to my arrival, I’d been warned about “cozy racism,” but I personally haven’t experienced that so far. As far as I can tell, what’s actually prevalent is ignorance about non-Western cultures and a tendency to categorize all Asians as Chinese. 

One experience I had was when someone I’d just met kept deferring to me on knowledge about Chinese universities during a meeting. From the way they were speaking, I’d nearly thought this was information I was supposed to know and had failed to prepare for—until they said, “Of course, you’d know better than I do” for the third time and it finally registered that they thought I was from China. They probably thought they were being respectful, but my great-grandparents were probably the last people in my family to have been in China (in fact, this person had visited a Chinese university recently) and I speak with a very clear American accent, so I was rather bemused. I responded that I was, in fact, not from China.

I’ve also had to explain my culture a lot more than I have in the U.S. For example, I had to first explain what pho is before I could express my shock at its price in Copenhagen. Obviously, no one’s ever heard of Cantonese. I don’t mind this though, I think it’s fun introducing new things to other people, especially when they are curious enough to ask. There are lots of things I’m ignorant about regarding Scandinavian and European culture that they don’t give a second thought about either, and they are willing to explain to me.

On the other hand, my American identity rarely needs explaining. I’m frequently surprised by how much people in other countries know about U.S politics, news, and culture. Even though I keep up with U.S news, they are sometimes even more updated with U.S. current events than I am, whereas I hardly know anything about Danish culture and politics. When I taught in Georgia, all of our students knew who Washington, Lincoln, and Roosevelt were, whereas my co-teacher and I had no clue who King David IV was. To quote a native Dane, “The most important influence over Danish politics is American politics.” Barbie and Oppenheimer were immediate worldwide hits, no doubt partly due to Hollywood’s behemoth position in the entertainment industry. Many people can pinpoint my Californian accent, and most people speak much better English than I can speak their language. If I came from another country, like so many other people do, it would surely be much harder to navigate this new environment. It made me think a lot about the power geopolitics has over local culture and how the world might change a hundred, two hundred years into the future. Some people believe China is a potential next candidate for world superpower. If that happened, most people’s second language would probably be Mandarin Chinese instead of English. In that scenario, might English eventually morph with Mandarin to form a completely new, unrecognizable language? In addition, how should the U.S use their influence now for the good of the world? What even is good for the world? These questions are fascinating to think about, and getting out of my U.S bubble has encouraged me to think more deeply about them.

Coming to Denmark was a big decision. I have two simple questions to guide my big life choices. 

1. What kind of person do I want to be after this period of my life is over?
2. Which path do I think will help me achieve that, or at the very least, get me started? 

The first question usually isn’t difficult to answer, and I try not to overthink the second one because I think gut feeling is valuable here. When I feel lost, I think about my answers to these questions to reorient myself. That’s how I decided to attend MIT, and that’s how I decided to come to Denmark. 

Part of why I wanted to come here was because of its famed work-life balance and status as one of the happiest countries in the world. This mentality seemed so different from my hometown and MIT, both of which have lots of chronically overworked people, and I wanted to learn from it. Because the value of hard work to the point of burnout has been drilled into me since I was born and that’s what I identified with growing up, this new culture of work-life balance has been what’s imbalanced me the most.

When I arrived in Copenhagen, I actually wished for a bit more bustle. I’m used to the density and hustle of U.S cities I’ve lived in—LA, San Francisco, Boston, and New York—and Copenhagen was practically empty in comparison. Most shops are closed by 7 pm and bakeries by 6 pm. Even though I’m a night owl and occasionally disappointed I can’t run out to buy something at night, I have to say I’m glad they close so early because, honestly, no one should have to work midnight shifts at a store. Only American establishments, McDonald’s and Burger King, are open 24/7 here. 

In general, Danish culture seems to emphasize a slower pace of life than the U.S. A central concept to this slower pace is hygge. Hygge refers to the feeling of coziness and contentment you get when you’re relaxed and spending time with people you care about, talking about things big and small. According to The Little Book of Hygge by Meik Wiking, staying indoors chatting with friends with a blazing fireplace inside and a thunderstorm outside is an especially hyggeligt time. Hygge is a direct contrast from what I’m used to: it emphasizes slowing down, being in the present, having no agenda, and enjoying the simple pleasures of life. There is no price tag to hygge, but ironically and unsurprisingly, there’s a whole economy around advertising products as hyggeligt.

Vaffelbageren after sunset

Nevertheless, the principles behind hygge serve as a good reminder for me to just relax. I really enjoy nighttime river walks, and the sunset was especially pretty one night, so I went out to take pictures of Nyhavn. As I was walking, I put my phone away and focused on the sights, sounds, and smells around me. I ate a waffle at Vaffelbageren, so far my favorite dessert in Copenhagen. The waffle was warm, fluffy, crispy, and the perfect contrast to the cool breeze wafting over my skin. The strawberry jam and powdered sugar melted deliciously in my mouth. I watched a hot dog stand serve its last customer and shut down for the night, the blazing light suddenly swallowed by the creeping darkness. I listened to a live, three-person band singing words I didn’t understand. A Danish guy saw me taking pictures and suggested that I pass by the opera, where the lights reflecting off the water were especially pretty. I’m not sure I ever tried deliberately slowing down like this in the U.S.

My favorite dessert in Copenhagen, a delightful waffle with strawberry jam and powdered sugar

I’m working at the Niels Bohr Institute, researching climate trends from billions of years ago. People in my lab leave work at 4-5 pm, eat lunch together every day, and frequently take coffee breaks just to chat about life. In the U.S., I tend to mentally separate work and life, and I feel the need to keep up a professional appearance even during work-bonding events because they’re special, one-off events. In Copenhagen, however, the everyday casualness of eating lunch and coffee break culture has made me feel more comfortable around and connected to my coworkers. I don’t usually drink coffee, but I’ve started a coffee habit here.

 I sometimes even find myself justifying my breaks as a way to get to know people in my lab better—almost as if I shouldn’t just relax for no reason. Working here has made me realize how much of my identity I tie to working long, hard hours and outputting as much as I can.

Although this should destress me, I actually get stressed about leaving so early and taking so many breaks because I feel like I should be more “productive” and working my full, mentally allotted 8 hours with no distractions. I sometimes even find myself justifying my breaks as a way to get to know people in my lab better—almost as if I shouldn’t just relax for no reason. Working here has made me realize how much of my identity I tie to working long, hard hours and outputting as much as I can. Even though I do a lot of things outside of work, such as play frisbee and attend Danish class—and I do genuinely enjoy them—these activities are normally associated with goals. I’m always trying to perfect a frisbee throw or practicing my Danish pronunciation. I naturally push back against doing too many “pointless” things and not being “productive” enough, which is a mentality that I’ve observed more frequently among other MIT students than in Denmark. (Even though the point of these pointless activities is to relax, so I’m really not doing myself any favors.) I’m still trying to decide what kind of balance I should establish between these purposeful and pointless activities, since both are necessary for happiness.

III. Denmark – Exploring & Adapting

Another value that Europe is challenging is being willing to spend money on myself, a struggle I’m sure many other low-income students identify with. I struggled with this at MIT too, but it was easier to be frugal when I was busy with classes and UROPs. Copenhagen and exploring other European countries––something I want to do––is expensive, and in the beginning of my internship, I tracked every single expense, worried far too much about small purchases, and over-optimized my spending categories. However, what’s the point of hoarding money if I don’t enjoy life, especially when I’m in my 20s? The stress and effort wasn’t worth whatever amount of money I was saving, and it wasn’t as though I had a spending problem anyway. Consistently reframing my thoughts this way and abandoning my expense-tracking spreadsheet greatly improved my mental health. Instead, I’ve found that setting a general, realistic monthly spending limit, rather than categorizing my purchases––something most budget planning apps seem to encourage you to do––works much better for me.

The other reason I came to Denmark was because of its biotech industry and sustainability efforts. People sort their trash and recyclables here, many products market their sustainable packaging, and everyone bikes. In terms of packaging, it’s hard to tell what works and what’s a gimmick because I started trying to limit my plastic usage in the U.S., and I honestly haven’t found it much easier to do so here. My biggest expense (aside from rent) is groceries, and they use a lot of plastic. However, single-use utensils are usually made of wood here, and it baffles me now why the U.S. hasn’t made this seemingly simple switch yet. 

MIT Brass Rat photoshoot in Nyhavn

Something I appreciate about Copenhagen is the urban planning. Prior to coming here, I was really excited about the bike lanes, and they’ve exceeded my expectations. They’re double the size of Boston’s bike lanes, on a raised platform separated from cars, have their own traffic signals, don’t randomly merge with car lanes, and often have bidirectional lanes even when cars can only go one way. I love that I can go just about anywhere with my bike. I met an urban planner who specializes in designing bike lanes, and he told me that one metric of effective bike lanes is the proportion of women bikers, because they tend to be more concerned about safety. In Copenhagen, the split is almost 50/50, which is about as good as you can get. The abundance of green space is also incredible –– parks and gardens are everywhere, they are huge, and there are no skyscrapers blocking the sky. I’ve joined an ultimate frisbee team here, and it’s so much fun running around in the grass chasing a little plastic disc. It could be a difference between Danish and American culture, but there’s less loud cheering and sideline talk from teammates here, which I kinda miss from when I was part of sMITe, MIT’s women’s ultimate team. Still, it’s been a good way to meet Danish people and stay active. 

Working with a cup of cortado (my preferred type of coffee) in the kitchen

Of course, my time abroad would be incomplete without exploring Danish cuisine. Eating out in Copenhagen is pretty expensive, so I haven’t done it that much, but what I’ve tried has been good. A friend and I went to Det Lille Apotek, the oldest restaurant in Copenhagen, where we had a traditional meal consisting of a sausage stew, duck, and caramelized potatoes. Even though the Danish diet consists mainly of bread, meat, cheese, and potatoes, it hasn’t been as heavy as I thought it would be. Vietnamese cuisine incorporates a lot of veggies, so I miss vegetables whenever I’m abroad, and I’ve been regularly cooking to make up for it (plus it’s cheaper and healthier). I’ve eaten many a kebab, which seems like Copenhagen’s version of fast food, and gone to numerous bakeries. I love ice cream, but sadly, I’m not a big fan of Danish ice cream because it’s not as creamy as I’d like due to its lower fat content compared to Italian gelato. However, some of the best pistachio gelato I’ve ever had is just an hour away in Helsingborg, Sweden.

I’ve found that my diet is the part about myself that I’m most reluctant to change, partly because food is comforting to me and partly because my stomach doesn’t like big changes. I want to make bánh xèo and eat steamed fish, but Asian food is sparse and I have to go out of my way for Asian ingredients. For the first few weeks, I was resistant to change, but lately, I’ve started adapting to the Danish diet in small ways––I eat rye bread for breakfast, drink coffee, and roast potatoes for an afternoon snack––so maybe that’s a sign I’m starting to settle in my latest environment.

Elderflower ice cream from Ismagariet

Pear (top) and pistachio (bottom) gelato in Sweden

Sean and me at Det Lille Apotek

I’ve been living in Copenhagen for two months, and it’s been a wonderful experience so far. I’m planning to stay until the end of the year, and I’m excited to see what I’ll learn and how I’ll grow from the rest of it! I’ve recently developed a mild interest in European architecture, so we’ll see where that goes, and there are still tons of museums, activities, and food I want to try, which will surely lead to more reflection. Stay tuned!