Bit Nine

It snowed!!!

Absolutely beautiful giant clumps of white snow fell for hours on March 1st! Out in Covington, there was at least 6 inches covering the ground! In Conyers, we had probably about half of that, but it was glorious! It stuck around for a few days, and then melted away, but it made me feel so happy to be in Georgia!


Unfortunately, my camera was dead, and I couldn't find my charger, so the few pictures I have are from Heidi's camera.

Another disappointing part of the day was that, when I left my house that morning, I hadn't planned on the weather taking such a snowy turn, so on the way to Covington, as the snow became heavier and heavier, I had no coat and no boots (just my crocs to cover my feet)! I still enjoyed watching the others build a snow kangaroo (pictured above) from inside the warm house!

Bit Eight

When Heidi suggested that I volunteer to visit a Muslim refugee family once a week so that I could begin a friendship and learn more about the culture, my gut reaction was, "um...what else could I do?" I've never been able to look at someone and say, "I'm going to be that person's friend!" In fact, the times when I've purposefully tried to make friends with people, it never turns out the way I expect. It's usually the people I don't feel pressured to get to know that I end up being good friends with. Therefore, I found it very doubtful that I could step into a Muslim's life and successfully make a friend.

I explained this to Kelly when she invited me to join her to visit her friend, Basimah (not her real name). Since it was not a situation in which I would feel any pressure to form a relationship, I agreed to go along. Kelly needed a ride, and I was anxious to see how this "forced friendship" worked.

We arrived at Basimah's apartment, but she was not home yet. However, four of her house-mates (all women) were home. Only one of them spoke English, and so she invited us in.

Immediately, I felt welcome. Walking into the apartment of a refugee is very different than walking into an American home. Yes, their living rooms are nothing to write home about - nothing on the walls, just a coupld of couches and a small TV on a tiny table, but there was something that made me feel comfortable enough to sit and talk.

The woman who spoke English, chatted with us as if we had met before, and the other three pulled out some chairs. They were content enough to smile and listen to our English conversation. Two children sat on the floor, watching cartoons.

Eventually, we were asked if we wanted some tea. I politely said yes, but had I known how amazing Somali tea is, I would have been much more emphatic! Somali tea is like a hot version of Southern Sweet tea, but better! There are some special spices in it that give it extra flavor. And I'm pretty sure they add about 3 spoon-fuls of sugar to each cup! It was delicious!

By the time Basimah arrived, Kelly and I were happily chatting with the residents of the apartment as if we lived there. We talked about how I was trying to learn Arabic and how poorly I was doing. We chatted about the weather, learned everyone's names & ages, and taught one of the girls a few words in English (although I'm pretty sure she understood us quite well already).

It was difficult to say goodbye to such a friendly group of women. I have changed my mind on how I feel about making friends with Muslim refugees. It's nothing like making an American friend. In America, it's inconvenient when someone drops in to say "hi." In Somalia, it's expected! I'm now looking forward to building relationships while I'm here.