Walking down the quiet street, I felt sweat drip from my forehead, it was a typical Saturday afternoon in Queensland, hot and sticky. I could feel my heart beating faster and faster, with the occasional sharp pain stabbing through my chest. Why are you so nervous Emily? I kept asking myself, I knew the refugee family I was about to meet wouldn’t be judgmental. Maybe not knowing exactly what I was going to see and experience made me feel uneasy? That’s when self-doubt set in – why are you pestering these poor people in their own home? They wouldn’t want to spend their Saturday afternoon talking to a young University student like you Emily!?
As I approached number 29 I saw a very humble, little white house, surrounded by a vibrant green lawn with a car pulled in the driveway. I must be honest, it was much more then I was expecting. I couldn’t help but notice the huge two story home next door with three prestigiously branded cars out the front; the juxtapositioning of the two homes and the two families inside was magnificent.
An elderly woman stood at the porch to the little white house, her dark skin heavily creased, a beautiful record of the long and probably hard life she had lived. With a nervous and somewhat goofy smile I introduced myself, only to be ignored.
Thump, thump, thump, my heart picked up pace again - this is the lady you’re meant to be meeting today Emily and she clearly doesn’t want you here, I told myself.
So it was a relief to be greeted by Jenny’s familiar, ever pleasant smile in the door way. “Oh, I don’t know who this lady is!” she said with a chuckle, pointing to the elderly woman on the porch who had ignored me. Phew, I thought, I hadn’t been snubbed by the Mother I was here to meet, this was just a poor old lady who obviously couldn’t speak any English and therefore had no idea what I was saying to her!
Jenny has been in my life since the day I was born, as the neighbor to my childhood home she accepted my family as a legitimate part of her own. After I heard she was teaching English to a refugee family from Burma, as well as helping them read and pay bills and assisting them with settling into Australian society and culture, I knew I wanted to witness this act of kindness. I wanted to bring awareness to the proactive and selfless initiative Jenny was taking in helping refugees, who are often the most isolated and vulnerable of society.
As I walked into the living room she introduced me to the family, first the Mother, Arefa, she was a tiny woman with dark skin and jet black hair wrapped in colorful scarves and sarongs. I immediately felt a sense of warmth from this woman as she shook my hand not letting go until I was seated at the table - my nerves had disappeared. In broken English, Arefa told me that the lady from the porch, who was now lying on the couch, was her friend’s mother.
Next to meet were her youngest sons, eight year old Karim sat in front of the television watching Ben 10, I couldn’t help but think of my own eight year old brother Elias who, as a Ben 10 fan also, was probably at home watching the very same show. These two eight year old boys would have so much in common if they met, yet they have such opposite backgrounds, Elias born into a safe and happy household and Karim, who spent the majority of his life in the slums of a refugee camp.
Arefa sat me next to her six year old son Hasim as he was about to be tutored by Jenny and I immediately fell in love. This gorgeous little boy had big brown eyes and long dark lashes, lashes that would one day capture the hearts of many girls. Arefa told me of her two older sons who were out playing soccer with friends, Jashim thirteen and Salim eleven – how wonderful I thought, these two boys are finally allowed to just be boys. Jenny explained to me how the refugee camp did not keep records when the two eldest boys were born so they don’t know their exact birthdays, on arrival to Australia authorities gave them both the 1st of January and took a guess at their age.
Arefa’s husband Monaf came through the door way, also emitting a sense of kindness and warmth. With a big welcoming smile across his face I stood up to greet him… and immediately realized that I was a giant… The entire family was tiny, Jenny included!
I tried to ask Arefa about her journey to Australia, why and how they got here, and what their situation was like in Burma. After a few failed attempts and with the assistance of Jenny I learnt that Arefa had been forced to flee Burma when she was a young girl, after the military chopped down her family’s mango tree crops and burnt down their home. With nowhere else to go she and her family fled to a refugee camp in Bangladesh, and stayed there for eighteen years… eighteen years, that is my entire life I thought. Arefa met and married Monaf in this camp and gave birth to all four of her boys there, in 2009 they were granted immigration to Australia, having to leave all other family members behind, for a chance at a future.
Leaning back into my chair I looked down at Karim playing with a green puzzle board, which I immediately recognized as it was the exact same puzzle board I played with as a child in Jenny’s home. With a great deal of pride Monaf showed me his driver’s license and pointed to the car in the driveway as his own. Laughing he explained how it wasn’t until his fourth test that he passed, but I was more than impressed, many of my own friends have taken much longer than that I told him.
Looking around the room I was simply in awe, of the work Jenny was doing and the sheer strength and determination of this family to create a life for themselves. Overcome with a feeling a contentment I realized that this, helping refugees rebuild their lives, is what I want to do with my own life, this is where I want to be.
(From left to right: Jenny, Karim, Jashim, Hasim, Arefa, Salim and Monaf; standing proudly in front of their car).
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