[Once again, I am in another city taking a short break from solidarity with the huddled masses for a med school interview. UT Southwestern if anyone cares. I did not meet the son of a foreign diplomat on my way from the airport but I am seeing some of the family, which rocks]
On tuesday I finally felt like I had gotten back my equilibrium (it was short-lived. I lost it again today while trying to prepare for a few days in Texas but never mind that) in other words, I managed to catch up on all of the random things that I had to do in the office and got all of my kiddos registered for after school programs (including a break dancing club. That's right-I got a refugee kid into a breakdancing class, what did you do today?). I partially credit the fact that I was served three cups of coffee by different refugee clients (two of which were turkish coffee double shots). I was literally bouncing off of my flimsy cubicle walls. I sprinted up the four flights of stairs back to work after lunch and I started blitzing through case notes. I was practically vibrating with energy at my desk (I think I scared my coworkers a little--I may have been talking fast). The first cup of coffee came from a Nepali family who asked me if I wanted tea before we left to get clothes for their kids (we need to work on English food vocabulary). The second two cups came from an Eritrean mother who prepared the coffee in the traditional way on a little stove plugged into the wall (in violation of her rental agreement) and with a burning pile of herbal incense (also in violation of her rental agreement). Neither the Nepali family nor the eritrean mom had enough english for me to politely decline. But on the bright side all of my case notes are up to date (no mean feat).
Speaking of Nepali families--I had to take a family to DHS for one of the other case managers. Unfortunately the car was checked out so I had to borrow a car from a case manager. My coworker handed me his keys and said "the car's name is rufus--ignore the noises." Rufus is a 1987 volvo stationwagon with no AC, a broken speedometer, and nonfunctional locks (but who in their right mind would steal it). So on our way to DHS I am trying to merge onto the freeway with no idea how fast I'm going, I have all of the windows open (it is hotter'n hell), my GPS is trying to give me directions and this Nepali father decides to start asking me all of the questions that have perplexed him concerning christianity. At that moment he asked "so there are two types of christians, right? catholics and protestants--what is the difference?" As I tried not to kill us and mentally cursed out my coworker I abruptly responded "ummm....there is no difference....they are the same" And with that, the Reformation is solved. (to be fair, how would you explain the difference to a hindu? "well, there is this guy with a cool hat and red prada shoes.....")
Heart-tugger of the day/week-- There is this adorable little sudanese 12yr old boy who really wanted to play soccer for the school team. He missed the tryouts but when I called the school they agreed that he could go to make-up tryouts that day--they would let him know. I arranged a ride home for him and made sure he know, but he didn't show up for the tryouts. The next day the activities coordinator asked him why he didn't go and discovered that he was too embarassed by his lack of cleats. (he had also told me earlier that he is embarassed by his name because everyone says it wrong--poor kiddo!). I was so bummed out for this boy and I didn't know what to do for him. But the activities coordinator called me later that day and told me that she spoke to the coach and in the end the school is going to buy the kid a pair of cleats and they are automatically accepting him onto the team (after they cut 20 other boys). Hooray! (Now I just need to arrange rides for him to and from the games and somehow find $30 for his registration fee (details, details)).
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