"Pre-arrival Services"

Technically our work is split into two parts--pre- and post-arrival services. Normally I mostly just help with the post-arrival services but I lent one of the case managers a hand with pre-arrival work this last week. Last week we got the news that a family of nine from the Congo was being resettled by our agency in Portland. We only had about 10 days to find and furnish a 4-bedroom apartment--and our donations coordinator was out of town. Fate was with us and we did manage to find a place (at the last second we managed to find a landlord who had never before rented to a refugee family--she is going to hate us for a while I think (even with the best of families it just tends to involve a lot of chaos and "creative" paperwork while they are waiting for their documents to be processed).

Here is the Congolese family of nine with all of their worldly possessions
(The balloon was from the interpreter)

We spent hours upon hours setting up this apartment (eight bed frames to assemble, eight box springs and mattresses to carry up the stairs and eight sets of sheets to make up the beds with). What really struck me was the sheer volume of excess plastic packaging all of the lamps, microwave, vaccuum, etc. involved. But it was exciting because everything we put together was for a family who had probably never had it before.

About two hours before this family was supposed to arrive we got a phone call letting us know that their flight was delayed in Dallas. A serious problem with the refugee resettlement program (among many others) is that once a family goes through customs there isn't really a system of support for the family to help them through their connecting flights. At that point the airline in theory takes over but since the families often do not speak English it can be pretty tricky. So this family was stuck in DFW for hours and hours without food, money, or the ability to ask what was going on and how long the delay would be. A stranger finally took pity on them and let the dad use her phone to call the emergency US number (which is Cecilia's cell, LOL) and we told him that as soon as he got to Portland we had food for them and a place to sleep. Meanwhile we were really concerned that their flight would be delayed over night in Dallas. In theory the airline would give them vouchers for food and a hotel but how would a refugee family with no english be able to figure out how to use that? As the flight was delayed later and later I got more and more concerned so I finally called in the calvary (aka the Dupont family---or more specifically, Rick and Margaret) and warned them that if this family's flight got delayed much more I was going to ask for a favor way above and beyond the ties of family and have them pick up this family and make sure they got food and a place to sleep (I figured that if anyone could feed nine people on short notice it would be the Duponts). Though I am pretty sure they were alarmed and I probably over-extended my "favorite niece" karma they agreed to help if it came to that.

Luckily, the Congolese family's plane did take off and they made it to Portland. Of course, once they arrived in Portland they did not understand that they needed to come outside of security in order for us to find them. After an hour, (at this point around 11pm Portland time) we confirmed with an airport employee that the family was still waiting outside the gate and, after unsuccessfully arguing with a TSA agent, we had to call the Portland police to go through security and wave the family out (absolutely ridiculous that neither TSA nor the airline could help us out then). We finally got the family out and collected their luggage. They were, of course, exhausted and overwhelmed--the interpreter kept taking pictures and speaking to them rapidly in French/Swahili trying to explain that my co-worker and I were trustworthy and would help them--but they were also incredibly relieved and happy. At one point I turned to the mom to say something simple in French and she had her face in her hands and was mumbling to herself, visibly shaking with relief. I don't speak Swahili or French really but I am pretty sure she was saying "we made it" over and over.

You can see the rest of the family gathered around the kitchen
table reflected in the window

We finally got them back to their apartment where I got to show them all of the beds, kitchen utensils and bathroom things we had carefully purchased and arranged just for them (very fun part of the job). Though they were glassy-eyed with exhaustion and we no longer had an interpreter to help the case manager had to walk them through safety features and basic orientation to the shower, locks and electricity. I cooked them a basic dinner (sauteed veggies, bread and a few rotisserie chickens) and by about 1am they were all gathered around their table, finally eating and able to relax. My coworker Brendon looked at them and said "why can't the state department see this when they review us?" He paused and then said, "they'd probably criticize us for not having a food handler's license."

We finally left, telling the family that we would check on them the following afternoon. [side story: this family lived clear across town from my house and I had an 8am appointment the next morning with another refugee very close to their apartment. I had a brief moment where I wanted to just sleep on this family's couch. I was thinking "they wouldn't know it was weird--it's not like they'd say no, they would assume that this is what case managers just did in America." I was very tempted but I did drive home in the end].

I have more stories to come about this family, so stay-tuned! A special shout-out to Rick & Margaret for not just hanging up the phone when I called :)