The first message I got from Rashida Fridah said “Are you on your way? I can’t seem to open the lock, even with the right code”. We had a shift together at Retro Nørrebro, a charity café around the corner from Assistens Cemetery in Northern Copenhagen. We’d never worked together before, and had only met at social events in passing. Both of us were new to the café but as it had so many international volunteers and members of staff it was impossible to know everyone. It was the start of a long and cold Danish winter, and the locks on the doors were frozen. This was Fridah’s first winter in Copenhagen, and she was bundled up with scarves and gloves, trying to force open a café door in an otherwise deserted street.
The second message I got from her was less than a month later. It said “Do you…

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