Moving to Denmark as an American has become a hot topic since Donald Trump began his run for President. Now that he is in office, I expect to hear even more from Americans interested in immigration to Denmark.
Since I’m selling a book called How to Live in Denmark, you’d think I would encourage as many Americans as possible to look into Denmark immigration.
But moving to Denmark with a U.S. passport isn’t as easy as just buying a plane ticket and a lot of sweaters.
I was at a high-level networking meeting the other day. Not on purpose, but because they originally asked me to be their speaker, and then decided they wanted somebody else to be their speaker instead and were too embarrassed to un-invite me.
So there I was in a vast room of men (and it was mostly men) wearing pretty much the uniform of the male Danish executive: blue business suit, pale shirt open at the collar, a few neckties – not many – and pointy leather shoes.
And they were all wandering around the room like children lost in a department store at Christmastime looking for their parents. They were all there to network and meet each other, but they didn’t quite know who to network with. So they mostly ended up talking to people they already knew. They did not expand their networks.
When you work in a Danish office, you’ll often find yourself invited to impromptu in-office social events with your Danish colleagues. Somebody’s birthday, someone’s having a baby, somebody has been with the company for 10 years, someone is going on vacation the next day. And they almost all involve cake.
Cake is very important in Denmark. Cake builds bridges. Cake makes friends. And when there’s cake on offer, as a foreigner, it’s a good idea to show up and accept it.
When I first started working in a Danish office, I made a big mistake. I said no to cake. Continue Reading
My apologies that I haven’t been blogging for the past couple of months – I’ve taken some time off to promote my book Top 35 Mistakes Danes Make in English, which you can get on Amazon or Saxo.com, or at any Danish bookstore.
But taking time off is a very important part of Danish life – in fact, some people would say it is one of the best parts of Danish life.
The best example, of course, is the famous Danish summer vacation. When I first began working in Denmark, people used to start saying around April or May, “So – are you taking three or four?”
What they meant was, are you taking three or four weeks off for your summer vacation?
If you’re Danish or have friends or family who are Danish, you may enjoy my new book, “Top 35 Mistakes Danes Make in English.”
For the past 16 years, I’ve made my living at least in part by correcting Danish people’s English at big companies like Danske Bank and Carlsberg. And I run into the same mistakes again and again.
Confusing ‘fun’ and ‘funny.’ Mixing up ‘customer’ and ‘costumer’. Spelling ‘loose’ with two ‘o’s and ‘see’ with only one ‘e’. Confusing ‘learn’ with ‘teach’ and ‘loan’ with ‘borrow.’ And saying ‘meet’ to mean the time one starts work. “You must meet at 9.” Meet who?
This book is an attempt to put myself out of business.
If you’ve been asked for a job interview at a Danish company, congratulations. Danish companies don’t like to waste time, so they wouldn’t be setting aside time to meet you if they didn’t think there was a solid chance they might hire you.
Job interviewing in Denmark is a difficult balance, because the Jantelov makes all forms of bragging or self-promotion distasteful to the Danes. You’ve got to convince the person interviewing you that you’re skilled and capable without sounding like a used car salesman.
What I tell potential hires to do is prepare by reviewing their working history and coming up with three good stories about projects they’ve worked on – two in which you did well and succeeded, and one that went very badly, but where you learned some important professional lessons.
By admitting to have made some mistakes in your work life or have been less than perfect on the job, you’ll give yourself a lot more credibility with Danish companies, where the default motto is “Work hard, but don’t take yourself too seriously.”
I’ve applied for jobs in Denmark and been hired; I’ve also been the person doing the hiring and sorting through applications.
Here’s the truth: It’s really no fun on either side. On the applicant side, you can feel like a beggar, desperate for someone to recognize and reward your talent. It wears on your confidence, particularly in a long hiring process, which is common in Denmark even for Danes.
And on hiring side, you’re facing a huge stack of applications, mostly from people who know nothing about the company, nothing about the job, and are sending you a standardized letter or cv that gives no indication about why they’re a good fit.
For example, when I was hiring for a copyediting position at a financial company in Copenhagen, I got a letter in flawless English from an Eastern European woman who was a display artist at IKEA. She put together the sofas and pillows to give the imitation living rooms a chic and homey atmosphere. It’s noble work, but it had absolutely nothing to do with the job we had advertised, and she’d given no indication of how her skills would transfer.
I get a lot of email at How to Live in Denmark from people looking for jobs in Denmark, and I can spot definite patterns based on nationality.
Indians and Pakistanis, for example, tend to send me mails full of numbers and data: “I have 6 years of I.T. experience and an Msc in Chemical Engineering. What is my expected first-year salary and what will be my living standard based on that salary?”
Left-wing Americans like to pour out their frustrations at the capitalist excesses of their home country, and then ask how quickly they will be eligible for Danish social services like free college tuition. (One single mom from the U.S. had three children she was looking forward to educating at the Danish taxpayers’ expense).
Correspondents from Eastern Europe want to know if they really have to learn Danish, no doubt because in addition to their native language they’ve already had to learn English (which they generally speak well) and sometimes Russian or German.