Refugees Are Changing the Land of Ikea and Abba
The Reshaping of Sweden's Social and Political Model
“Which color?” asked the officer, who sat on the other side of the solid table.
“What?” I answered cautiously.
The state representative, whom I met on a gray February day in early 1990 at the Swedish consulate in Zurich, where I studied at that time, became louder: “What color does the toothbrush have?”
I was surprised and a little bit intimidated by this question and responded, whispering, “The color of my toothbrush?”
“No sir,” he screamed back, “the one of your girlfriend!”
I do not remember the ending of this uneven conversation …