I had the opportunity to join Catholic Charities refugee program back in 2017 and it changed my life. Being an immigrant myself, I understood what it was like to be in a new country all by yourself and putting down roots. Finding new friends, new home, new job, new food habits, new culture and the list goes on. All of this can be very overwhelming for a newbie. It was hard enough for me as an immigrant so I couldn’t even imagine what it would be like for someone who is forced to move to a new country as a refugee where the only alternative to moving is often life threatening.
It all started out as something I wanted to do to help refugees because I thought I could relate to the pain of living without any family in a new country. I had been through that pain myself and often missed my own family. So I set out on my first assignment to meet and greet Hadi and Maryam from Afghanistan. From their case report I learned that they were a couple from Afghanistan who were forced to leave the country for fear of death. Hadi had aided the US military operations and worked as a translator for the military there. So now the Taliban was out to get him. Facing a death sentence looming over his head and not knowing when it would come must have caused him an unimaginable kind of stress I thought to myself. Wow! How brave! I wanted to help them feel welcome in this country.
When I arrived and rang the bell, I saw Hadi struggle to figure out how to open the door. When I walked in however, I was greeted by the biggest smiles I’d seen in a while. His wife Maryam came rushing out to meet me. She couldn’t speak a word of English. And Hadi’s English was broken and had a thick accent.
Using Google translator I tried to explain the purpose of my visit and offered to help them with a range of things – what is an air conditioner, how to adjust the temperature, which foods are appropriate to keep in a refrigerator, which foods are not, switching on lights, etc. That was a lot of information for them to take in. They probably felt like things were unnecessarily uncomplicated here. I learnt from them (with Google translate’s help ofcourse) that back home they lived a much simpler life. I had never stopped to think about these things before. I guess I was spoilt.
On my second visit, they seemed a lot more well adjusted. Maryam showed me how she used Google translate to translate words from Dari to English. She was very proud to share how she understood the English word milk but she didn’t quite figure out what the purpose of “cereal” was. I took them on a walk to a nearby park and showed them how the bus system worked. This was the first time they had gone for a walk. They were cooped up in their place for a week because they weren’t confident to venture out on their own. Of course there were other volunteers who helped them with running errands, etc but they were always at the mercy of someone who could find the time for them. It must have been a frustrating situation to be in. I know it would have driven me crazy. Hadi asked me the cost of the houses we passed by. I estimated them to be around $1 million. To this, a wide-eyed Hadi responded “too much costly” to which I nodded in agreement.
On my next visit, they were already assigned living quarters and had to move. They didn’t have much stuff which made it easy to move them. I asked them what did they need help with and Hadi answered “Please help me find job. You give me job?” I told him I wish I could. They didn’t understand how job searches worked here. I tried to explain the concept of resumes and networking to a bewildered Hadi and said I’ll be back soon.
Hadi needed a new laptop. He had prepared a rough draft of his resume on this phone. I felt bad about that and promised to get him a laptop next time. I had an old laptop just lying at home that I hadn’t used for years. I wasn’t even sure if it worked anymore. Luckily enough though it did. The header of his resume read “Hadi (lastname) – Man of God”. Gosh! We had a lot of work to do.
By this time, Maryam’s English was getting really good. She could form full sentences. She proudly boasted about how she would spend hours watching English movies to learn the language. That was the cutest thing I’d heard. She was taking English classes at the local community college that Catholic Charities hooked her up with. She had learnt to take the bus on her own too. She had gotten a job as a dishwasher in the local school. Hadi too had been offered a job by one of the volunteer’s friends in some sort of technical support role. Now that they were more stable, Maryam wanted to thank me for all my help by inviting me and my husband to dinner. I learned that she had spent 4 hours toiling in the kitchen to cook special Afghani food for us. I was really touched by this gesture.
And then we started to meet more often, sometimes for walks in the park, sometimes to watch Bollywood movies together. Did I mention the Afghans are HUGE Bollywood fans, even though they didn’t fully understand Hindi? I got invited to more dinners and Ramadan feasts. And I had made a friend. I loved spending time with her. Although we had to work hard to understand each other, she would say the most amazing things.
Maryam: You come my house. I give you food.
Me: How is your work?
Maryam: Bad. My boss is bad man.
Me: Did you like your house?
Maryam: No. It is very dark.
Me: I have to walk home now.
Maryam: Why your husband not pick you up?
Me: I know. He should!!!
Me: How you feel today?
Maryam: Not good. Very sick.
I know this may sound strange but I loved these conversations. They were simple, to the point and extremely genuine. She never pretended to be fake happy. Nothing was ever fake. What she felt was what she said. No pretences. Her English was too simple to be anything but authentic. This was so refreshing to me.
And a year later, Maryam was pregnant. But she was sick all the time. She had terrible morning sickness in that it lasted all morning, noon and night. Anything she ate her body rejected. She even got admitted to the hospital. But she was still upbeat and smiling. She was having a daughter. She told me how her husband’s family was sad that it was a girl. They came from a society where men are considered important to carry on the family name. But not her. She was ecstatic. She talked about how glad she was that her daughter will be born in America because it was so much safer for women here. She was the only educated girl in her family and now she was going to educate her daughter in America. I was amazed at how progressive she was despite the conditions in which she was raised. I was truly inspired and frankly quite proud of her. She had come a long way in a short period of time. Even her English was pretty good now. All her hard work paid off.
And then I moved to San Francisco and Maryam was very sad. All the furniture I wasn’t taking with me went to her. I told her she should be happy that she is getting all this new furniture because I’m going but she wasn’t. She sent me lots of heart emojis for a week. When her daughter was born she sent me pictures. And 3 months later when I told her I was visiting she was ecstatic. “You come my home for dinner” she said. And before I knew it, I was booked for a dinner date at her house. I met her daughter for the first time and she looked like a doll. We are still good friends. She still sends me heart emojis followed by “How are you dear friend?”
When I joined the refugee program, I thought I was doing something selfless but I was wrong. I got so much more back in return. I was loved and appreciated by everyone I helped. Each family, a different story. But what was consistent was their happiness and big smiles. They taught me to appreciate what I have and not take things for granted. Each day alive, every little thing I owned, from the food in the pantry to the shoes on my feet were a gift. Hadi and Maryam were gifts. I didn’t miss my family as much anymore.
Sejal D'Souza 