This week has been a shmorgasboard (sp?) of cheap volunteering gratification--in other words, I have been taking adorable little kids to their first days of school. I walked each kid to his or her bus stop and watched them board the bus, then I raced ahead to the school and tried to meet the bus before the kid disembarked and then I would hold their hand and walk them to their classrooms. These kids are CUTE--we are talking like "Save the Children" advertisement cute, like I could make Ghaddaffi interrupt a rant and say "awwww!!!!!" And they are so terrified! Most of them do not speak any english and are overwhelmed by the masses of other children. For their sakes (and my love of cuteness) I am so glad that I could walk them through the process on their first day. Other little kids were not so lucky--I passed on crying burmese 3rd grader and another little boy who did not speak english and was too terrified to respond to any questions in any of the variety of languages the counselor was trying. My heart just went out to every one of these sweethearts (sorry to gush, but OMG precious!) and I wish I could have sat next to them all day.
My kids all got on and off the buses okay the first day but today (the second day) I got a frantic phone call from one girl's little sister reporting that the older sister had missed the bus and was stuck at school (a good 4 miles away). I drove to the school (45 minute drive during rush hour for me) and when I pulled up there were three ESL kids, counting my student, who had all been confused and missed the bus. A school administrator was near them and she said "oh my god, are you Sarah?!" like she couldn't believe I was a real person. Apparently the kids couldn't explain where they lived or how they were getting home but my kid kept repeating "Sarah is coming" and the administrator was left to pray I existed. It struck me then how bizarre my role is in these kids' lives--they don't know who I am, who I work for, or why exactly I am helping them but they have this inexhaustable supply of trust that I will be there when they need help. I ended up taking the lot of the kids home. One of them was a plucky turkmeni kid who spoke english pretty well and was a hilarious conversationalist the whole drive home (he at first refused to tell me that he was from turkmenistan because he was tired of people not knowing that it was a country in Asia--I liked this kid, he had moxy).
Today I also was supposed to take a Somali to the Social Security Administration to get a social security card. I picked him up from a friend's apartment (who had been resettled in 1996!) and headed out. I blame the fact that I was driving a 30 yr old Somali man wearing baggy jeans, a popped collar and a sideways hat (which he changed into from a button-up shirt and slacks just to go to the SSA office for--someone needs to talk to this guy about american stereotypes) for the fact that I forgot to check whether he had brought any documents with him. Apparently the SSA wants some form of ID and verification that you are a legal resident before they will give you a social security card......oops. I told the guy I'd have to take him back tomorrow.
Final story-- I have discovered that I love the Nepali. All of the families I have met are adorable and really really hospitable. I drove one family to a clinic and the one english-speaking family member talked my ear off the whole way there. He told me about how he loves to play music, how his favorite thing in the world is to see a group of children in matching uniforms heading off to school, how since "we are educated people" (meaning he and I) we know that there is only one God and that man created the fight over religion so he as a Hindu was still a brother to me, a Christian. The same guy also nearly passed out later when he had to have his blood drawn and spent several minutes explaining to me how much he hates needles (hey mom, you should be friends). I was just tickled pink by this family. In a few minutes I am going to the airport to pick up another Nepali family with my coworker. Said coworker told me that we have to take the 15 passenger van because every singly other Nepali in the city wants to go meet this family at the airport--that is the Nepali way. We will pick 12 of them to go with us and help get this new family settled tonight. I am really excited--I'll let y'all know how it goes!
No comments:
Post a Comment