Journal Entries
September 1, 2016:
I’ve had the idea of wanting to help Syrian refugees for a while now. Ever since I became aware of the situation in Syria and Palestine, my heart hurt for all the innocent people who had their lives torn apart by conflict and war. What motivated me the most to get involved was when I saw religion come into play. Syrian refugees were being rejected from coming into the U.S. because of the fear and stigma that came with the idea of “radical Islam”. I felt terrible that so many people were being rejected the access to a better life for such insignificant reasons.
September 3, 2016:
I texted a family friend of mine who works at my mosque if he could find a Syrian family near me. He texted back that he would find me a family as soon as he got back in state. I’m hoping he can and will follow through with it, and if he does he can most likely also be a mentor for me. If not I have another mentor in mind, I’m on good terms with the principal of the Sunday School in my mosque and I’m sure she could help me too.
September 6, 2016
I got another text from the family friend I had contacted earlier, he said that he talked to whoever was in charge of the refugee “situation” at our mosque and that he should get a call from him tomorrow. Everything seems to be working so far.
September 10, 2016
My mom told me today that the family friend I had contacted (I call him Anis Uncle) called her and wanted to ask her if I was serious about wanting to be hooked up with a Syrian family. It was slightly irritating that he didn’t take me seriously, but the more important thing he brought to my attention was that there was an obvious language barrier between the Syrians and I. They speak Arabic, and I speak English (and Urdu). But I know I still want to help them, the best idea I have at the moment is to have some of my Arabic speaking friends translate and help communicate with them.
September 14, 2016
I am very relieved I got to talk to Mrs. Boutilier today. She said my idea to have my Arabic friends talk to them would be extremely helpful. She also told me about what Mida had done with her refugee family last year and it really inspired me. I didn’t even know that something like this could help a family as much as Mida helped hers. I hope I get the opportunity to do just as much if not even more.
September 20, 2016
I’m not quite sure if I’ve figured out how to balance Calc 2 and capstone yet. I’ve been talking to Mrs. Boutilier when I can because she technically is my capstone teacher. I’ve been talking to people about getting me a refugee but I usually get pretty delayed responses with little help. I’m kind of thinking about finding some different people to help me instead.
October 7, 2016
My mentor put me in contact with a group called CT Anchor and I’ve been emailing them for a few days. I recognized one of the girls in the group, Reem, from my mosque, and she asked me where I lived and other basic questions to see if they could find a family for me to help. She told me there was an event at Madinah Academy tomorrow about resettling refugees, so I plan on going. Hopefully something will turn out well.
October 8, 2016
So I went to the meeting at Madinah Academy today and it was pretty interesting. There were only like ten people who went but it was very informing about what was going on in Syria as well as what the U.S. was doing to help refugees and what they were doing in terms of letting them into the country. However, what the man there was saying didn’t really apply to me. He was telling us what bigger organizations could do to help refugee families, not individual people. After the information was given out, I met Reem and she showed me the warehouse full of donations of clothing, shoes, kitchen supplies, etc. where refugees could come and take whatever they needed. It was nice to see that there is at least something out there for all them. After that, though, she told me that there weren’t any refugee families in Windsor that I could help. There was one in New Britain she knew about. I told her that someone Mrs. Boutilier offered me a family but I wanted to see who else was out there just in case. New Britain is really far from me and the family in Manchester didn’t need help. So I don’t think I got as much out of this as I wanted to; Reem said I could volunteer at the warehouse on weekends, but that’s about it. I feel kind of stuck right now. If the family that Mrs. Boutilier was talking about doesn’t work out I’m not really sure what I’m going to do next.
October 16, 2016
I emailed Mrs. Boutilier last week saying that if the family she knows needs any help, I can go see them on Wednesday since the rest of the school will be taking PSAT’s. Before that, though, I need to find someone who will be able to translate for me. Today at Sunday school I went to Sameera. I’ve known her for two years now and I’m closest to her. I knew she knew some language other than English, so I guess I always assumed it was Arabic. Turns out it isn’t. As unfortunate as that was, Sameera said she knew someone who could help me. She knew someone who actually worked with refugees named Rana and gave me her number.
October 19, 2016
Well, the family that Mrs. Boutilier had in mind is already in good hands. I’m actually really happy that I’ve been looking around just in case this would happen, and as if there could be no better timing, Rana texted me back. She offered me a Syrian family in New Britain, but I again had to deny because I lived too far. Then, she asked me if I spoke Urdu, and I got a little excited. She had an Afghani refugee family in Hartford who spoke fluent Urdu. She told me that they fled to Pakistan and then came to America trying to escape the Taliban and that their story was really sad. I told her that I would do my best to help them. Although I first intended on helping Syrian refugees, I felt even more connected to this family. They fled from the country I was from; they spoke my language, so how could I say no? Rana told me that she’d get me their information soon.
October 24, 2016
Rana finally got me their address and phone number. I don’t know much about them, but the person whose number I have is named Kowki.
October 30, 2016
I really feel like I’ve been neglecting my capstone. I know that’s so terrible when I’m in charge of helping a needy family, but I feel so overwhelmed. I have to study for a Calc quiz, my Chemistry SAT Subject Test, apply for the Day of Pride Scholarship for UCONN, work on my research paper for Psychology and Sociology at the same time, too. I don’t know how to fit everything into my schedule and I’m afraid I’ve been pushing capstone to the end of my list. After my Math II and Chemistry SATs on the 5th, I’ll try to focus more on this.
November 8, 2016
I finally got the chance to call the family today and it definitely wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. She sounded sad and almost even a little desperate for help and kept saying thank you. I haven’t even done anything yet! She texted me all her kids sizes and didn’t even tell me anything about herself until I did. I can tell she doesn’t really know English, only the generic words that all Pakistanis/Afghanis seem to know. She spelled “shirt” as “shairt”. “Pant” was spelled “pent” and “size” was “saiz”. It took a while to decipher, but I found the information I needed. I didn’t want to ask her everything she’d been through all at once because that seemed kind of insensitive, but I hope I’ll get closer to them with time.
My next step of action to help this family is getting clothes. That is my main priority at the moment because it’s already starting to get cold and once winter actually gets here, I want them to be as comfortable as possible. It’s usually pretty warm in Pakistan year-round so I feel they might be caught a bit off guard. My mom says she’ll give them a lot of our old jackets and clothes because my brothers and I are roughly the same age as Kowki’s children. I want to have a clothing drive at school, too, but I’m not so sure yet. I’ll see what I can come up with.
Update at 9pm: My mom took me with her to vote today, but right before we got to the polling area in Stafford, I got a call from Kowki. I stood outside the car while my mom went in to vote and talked to her. She wanted to make sure I got her text about her kids’ clothing sizes. The part that I really noticed, though, was that she kept repeating the words “okay” and “sorry” whenever I said something that didn’t require a real response. I didn’t want her to apologize to me for asking for help, or anything like that. It made me a little sad.
November 9, 2016
I got the word out for my clothing drive. I hope I get what I need. I still have no idea what these people look like or what they like or anything. All I have is an imaginary image that corresponds to the voice I hear on the phone. I don’t know what they need. Kowki hasn’t asked me for anything. I know that I’ve only talked to her a few times, but I was expecting them to ask me to help them more. I don’t imagine them having much, so why are they holding back? Maybe it’s just because they don’t know me yet.
November 11, 2016
I’ve finally had some extra time to catch up on my capstone. I’m pretty proud of myself. The research paper rough draft is due on Monday. I’m just hoping I’ll be able to put together something quality in time. I want this to be good, I know I have potential to write something meaningful, I’m just trying to find out how to word it correctly. I don’t want it to get too political, but with Trump just being elected, I hope I can keep it that way.
November 13, 2016
My research paper is turned in! This is a big week for capstone. I feel proud, relieved, excited, and nervous all at once. I’m hoping that meeting the family for the first time won’t be awkward or anything. What am I supposed to say to someone in that kind of situation? I don’t really know anything about them. What do I talk about? How do I talk to them? Formal or informal? And my Urdu is definitely rusty. I barely talk to anyone in Urdu. Although it is my first language, I’ve lost the habit of speaking in it. Since my mom isn’t home much because of work, I kind of lost my reason to speak it. My brothers always spoke in English, and I honestly don’t remember what language my dad spoke to me in. I’m pretty self conscious about talking in Urdu now. Every time I try, I have someone end up laughing at me. I do want to fix my Urdu, and that is honestly part of the reason I wanted to help Kowki, as well. However, I’m still uncomfortable talking in it. I’ll have to force it, though. I don’t have any other way of communicating with them.
November 18, 2016
I’ve been talking to Rivera for a couple of days now so I can get one of his boxes from the food drive. I assumed that if they didn’t have clothing, they’d probably also need food. I didn’t tell them I was getting them food because I wanted to surprise them. I knew what they could and couldn’t eat (Muslims cannot eat pork, but besides that many of us only eat halal meat). Since finding good, halal food is decently hard to find in America, I figured anything would be nice. I sorted out a box with some muffin mix, beans, corn, cranberry sauce, and (most importantly) lots of rice. I hope they like it.
I called Kowki later and told her that I was going to stop by with some clothes for her family on the 23rd. Since we have a half day that day, I’d get a chance to go in daylight. My mom doesn’t like driving to new places in the dark. After I told her, she said “thank you” three times in a row. That was so sweet. It made me happy that I was helping someone in need, but it also made me wonder what her situation was like. I know she’s a refugee, but I don’t know that much about what the Taliban does in Afghanistan. And even in Pakistan, I only know a little. I think I’ll look into it. Maybe it’ll help me understand.
November 21, 2016
I got a call from Kowki today. She started our conversation off with saying “sorry to bother you” (In Urdu). And all she wanted to ask me was to call her before I come to her house on Wednesday. It makes me sad whenever she apologizes to me like that. I’m excited to meet her, though. I’m expecting a pretty small place, probably without much stuff inside. I know a lot of people who donated mattresses for refugees at my mosque. Maybe they don’t have mattresses yet either. I doubt they have a car or a TV or anything like that, but I’m not sure. When I went to that meeting at Madinah Academy last month they said that they usually decorate houses and fill them with a few things (furniture, food, etc) before the family settles in. So they must have something?
November 23, 2016
Today was quite a day. First off: the senior potluck. I had to give a short talk about what I was doing for capstone, and although I was dreading it, it came to good use! Erna was sitting nearby and heard what I was doing. She said she loved what I was doing and her mosque had winter clothing that was specifically donated for refugees. I didn’t know what could be more perfect. After school, she texted me and told me that she could get a bag from there for sure.
Later in the school day, I got all the clothing people had collected from the “staff clothing drive” we had. I didn’t really know what to expect other than Mrs. Zamorski’s donation, but whether or not she was the only one who donated, I was pretty happy with what I ended up with. It was a bit of a struggle to haul a huge garbage bag of clothing (Thank you Mrs. Bout and Kevin) out to my car. At the same time, Mr. Rivera had a guy in my Spanish class bring my box of food downstairs to the lobby. It was a lot, but I got it into the car. My mom was stuck at work so she had a family friend give me a ride to Kowki’s house. I had never been in that part of Hartford before, and all I did the entire time was look out the window and wonder what I was going to do and say when I met Kowki. It was definitely an eye opening thing to see. I had never seen low income housing before—and if I had then I never paid attention to it until now. For some reason, I didn’t think of low income housing when I imagined visiting Kowki for the first time. I imagined a normal apartment or condo. For 5 minutes before we even got to her home, my mom’s friend was constantly talking about how “dangerous” this part of Hartford was because of the type of people who lived in low income housing. He gets paranoid a lot.
After he parked the car, we both went inside. The front of the building was kind of dirty. There was a stain on the paint and newspaper on the ground and a very weird smell that I have no idea how to describe. My mom’s friend said it was probably urine, and I’d like to think it wasn’t but I haven’t thought of an alternative yet. There were boxes in the wall, also, that I’m assuming is for mail. They all had names on them, and I saw Kowki Nazari.
None of the doors inside had numbers on them, so I called her to find out which door she lived behind. I had to go outside next to the car so my mom’s friend wouldn’t hear me talking in Urdu, and quite unfortunately, she told me she wasn’t even home. She said she was at the doctor. I didn’t want to ask why, but I told her it was fine. She got very upset, though, I could tell by her voice. It was like she was worried she made me upset and that I wasn’t going to help her anymore. She kept asking when I’d be back, too. It felt like she had to make sure I was still going to help her. And it was sad because it made me think of how much help she might really, desperately need.
November 27, 2016
Today I got the chance to go back to Kowki’s house. Seeing her building wasn’t any easier the second time and I was just as nervous. I called her to ask which apartment was hers, and she said that she was going to send her kids to get us. After a minute or two I saw a man and two girls walk out of the apartment towards us. I didn’t know who the man was at the time, but he did turn out to be Kowki’s husband. She never mentioned him before, so I had no idea. After we all grabbed some of the stuff, they took us up three short flights of stairs to their apartment. I was only in the living room for the time we were there, but it was nicer than I expected. They had couches, a table, rugs, a TV, etc.
Seeing Kowki for the first time was different than I expected. I imagined them to look more Pakistani in my head, but I guess I just forgot they were from Afghanistan. Habit, I guess. She was very nice though, and said thank you for everything—just like she did on the phone. She told us to sit down, and her little son sat on a chair looking at us quietly the entire time. Two of her daughters were so shy; they went in a room out of my view. Her oldest daughter stayed next to her mom just like how I stayed with mine. I got an introduction to all the kids. Three girls and a little boy, in order of age their names are Sheeba, Rubina, Habiba, and Ali. For most of the time, it was Kowki and my mom talking. I wanted to talk, but not in Urdu. Unfortunately, that was my only option.
They exchanged stories, and I listened. My mom started off with our story of her being a single mom having to raise three kids. Kowki opened up right after us and told us about what she experienced in Afghanistan and Pakistan. She told us about her husband disappearing for days. When he got back, he wouldn’t talk about what happened. She told us about how her family would have to go days without food. The Taliban had taken over the area she used to live in, but even after leaving to Pakistan, she had problems dealing with her husband’s mental state and their food shortages. I had heard refugees’ stories online before, but hearing it in person by an actual refugee made it feel so much more real. Right before we were about to leave, Kowki told us one last thing. She was pregnant. I realized then, no wonder nearly every time I call her she’s at or coming from a doctor’s appointment.
December 11, 2017
Erna texted me again today, she had a bag of clothes for me to take and also had a friend who offered to take the girls shopping! I thought that was so sweet, and definitely not what I was expecting. I needed to be there to translate for them, but I thought it could be fun. It would be nice for them to have a “girl’s day”. The main problem is transportation. I’m not sure what to do about that. My mom’s van broke down last week and it’s at the mechanic’s right now. There’s a problem with the transmission and my mom says that’s really expensive to fix, so I have no idea how long we’ll be without a car. Until we get our van working again, I can’t do much for capstone.
December 12, 2017
In the lobby before we headed up for class, I was talking to Erna a bit about what she texted me yesterday. She said it would be great to take the girls shopping so they’d have some fun and make new friends. I can’t believe that up until this point I didn’t really think about getting them involved with other people to make friends. I know a lot more of the Pakistani community than Sheeba and the other girls do and I’m sure they’d like to meet them. I personally love having friends that had the same background as I did, and I’m sure that having those kinds of friendships would make the transition into living in America much more comfortable.
December 18, 2017
Erna brought me the clothes from her mosque on Wednesday, and my mom said that we’d drop it off for her on her way from work today. Our van is still not working so she borrowed a friend’s car. Kowki said that she needed some maternity clothes because her clothes were getting tight, so my mom and I went to Saver’s to find something that may be cheap but still in good condition. There were a couple of dresses there that my mom said would be fine. We went to her house afterwards, and my mom told me to stay in the car while she gave the clothes to Kowki because it was getting late and she didn’t want to stay until it got dark out. My mom has always been a little afraid of cities at night—it’s kind of weird to me considering she grew up in the largest city in Pakistan.
December 30, 2017
I got a call from Kowki today. When I answered, she said Salam and called me beta (Side note: this is a pretty typical way for Pakistani/Afghani people to greet someone. Beta means child in Urdu but it’s used affectionately usually between older family or family friends to someone significantly younger than them). I was a little surprised at first; this was the first time she called me that. And the entire conversation sounded like I was talking to a close aunt, not a refugee mother I was trying to support. She asked how I was doing, and how my family was doing. I told her that we had been sick for a while and that we hadn’t been able to visit in a while because our van broke down. She said not to worry about it, and that she hoped we felt better. She gave us one of those home remedies that Pakistani Aunties so often tell each other. It happened to be one of the remedies my mom uses already (green tea boiled with ginger and sweetened with honey), but the thought was really sweet.
January 5, 2017
Our van finally got fixed. My mom says that we’re going to stop by Kowki’s house soon because we promised to take them shopping for new shoes and we haven’t yet.
January 14, 2017
Today was an entire day spent with Kowki and her kids. After my mom got out of work around 2:00pm, we headed out to Hartford. We told them that we were going to go shopping with them at Sam’s Club and Walmart. When we got to their apartment, all of them were pretty much ready, except for Rubina, who was sick and wanted to stay home. She had a fever and a headache, so we decided to get her some medicine while we were out because they didn’t have any at home. We got in the car so Kowki and Ali sat in the middle two seats and both girls sat with me in the back. While we drove, Sheeba and I talked a lot; just general getting to know each other kind of talks. I was happy to talk in Urdu with her because she didn’t seem fazed by it at all. Kowki told me that before we got to their house, Sheeba was making roti (not sure how to describe it—it’s a staple food in a lot of Southeast Asian homes. It’s kind of like flatbread, but not exactly). She was picking the dough out from under her fingernails and I thought of all the times I had to go through the same ordeal. Kowki asked me if I knew how to make roti, and I said, “ha liken achi nahi banti,” meaning “yes but not very well.” Classic Pakistani humor. (It’s funnier in Urdu/If you’re Pakistani, I promise).
As we were leaving Hartford, Sheeba and her sister looked outside the entire time. She was so surprised when she saw the Connecticut River. As drove over the bridge, she said to me, “There’s a river here? We had no idea. When we first came here I asked the lady who helped us move in if there was any body of water around here, and she said no.” I didn’t realize until then, they had been in the U.S. for months now, and had never been outside of their little area of Hartford. I complain to my mom when she keeps me in the house for two days in a row, I had no idea how they must’ve felt. All anyone in Pakistan dreams of is coming to America someday. Imagine coming here and not being able to see all the great things there are to see. Our conversation moved from there and Sheeba told me that in Afghanistan her family owned a beauty salon and her and her mom used to work there together. I told her about how my mom has a gas station and I work there with her whenever she needs help, too. I asked her what it was like in Afghanistan, and she just shrugged, she said it was kind of like Connecticut—meaning lots of trees. When they came to Pakistan afterwards, the Peshawar area they were in also has a lot of trees. I told her that my family was from Karachi. She looked surprised and told her mom in Farsi. She asked me when I came to America, and I told her I was born here in Hartford, and that Urdu was still my first language. She looked at me surprised again and told her mom like it was some big deal—it made me smile.
We got out of the car at Sam’s Club. Sheeba looked at the sign in the front and sounded it out, getting it perfectly right the first time. I told her that this and Walmart were really popular stores in America. I also told her that we weren’t in Hartford anymore because I didn’t think she knew. She seemed surprised and asked me where we were, and I told her Manchester. She sounded it out again “man-ches-ter”. And when I told her she got it right, she turned to her mom with confidence and told her where we were. It was sweet to watch. After we got inside, we went to looking at the winter jackets first. Ali tried on a puffy, dark blue jacket, and Habiba tried on a couple more but settled on a purple one of the same kind. Sheeba and I went to another part of the store to look for a coat for her. I bumped into my friend Hiba and talked to her for a bit. I told Sheeba that there were a lot of Pakistani girls our age in the state, we were just spread apart. I hope I can introduce her to some of my friends eventually. Sheeba showed me the coats she liked, but didn’t get any of them. She liked the peacoats with the hoods on them, and I told her to get it, but she kept insisting that she had a jacket at home already. I’m not sure if I believe her, though, because it was pretty cold today and she was only wearing a cardigan. From there, we all moved over to the shoes. I saw Sheeba looking at a pair of heeled booties, but again she told me that she didn’t want anything when I asked her. She didn’t get anything from Sam’s Club. What we ended up buying were three winter jackets, one for each child, except Sheeba. We also got a pair of boots for Habiba.
Next, we went to Walmart, because we didn’t find shoes for everyone. Once we got there, Sheeba and I separated from everyone else while they were trying to find shoes and clothing. My mom told me to look for a headache/fever reducer for Rubina and to get Sheeba some face wash because she was breaking out. She asked me what she could do to stop her acne, but I told her that my skin wasn’t any better. She said that right now, she just used regular soap to wash her face, and I showed her some products similar to what I had at home. She kept saying she didn’t need it, but I made her take it. Then, we went over to get some medicine. She looked kind of surprised and asked me “don’t you need a prescription to get medicine here”? As we walked around the store and back to our parents, I told her about American life. It was just the basics, but still pretty different than life in Afghanistan. On one last trip around Walmart, I asked Sheeba if there was anything else she wanted. She hesitated a little and told me she really wanted a curling wand for her hair. I have to admit, I was a little surprised at first, but when she told me why, I don’t even know how to explain how I felt. She told me how at school, the other girls would say she looked so “simple” because she always came to school with her natural, board straight hair and makeup-free face. It made me upset that something like that had to be a problem for her. She had spent so much time in her home country doing other people’s hair and makeup, and as if she didn’t miss that enough, now she felt bad about not being able to do all that with herself. I told her that she could leave braids or twists in her hair overnight to curl her hair naturally, but she told me she had tried and her hair didn’t hold shape well. I wanted to be able to take her to the mall and buy her new clothes and makeup and hair products. I think I have an old curling wand in my room somewhere, I don’t use it because my hair is already fairly curly, so if I find it I’m sure Sheeba will like it a lot.
At the very end of our shopping spree, we took Kowki, Sheeba, Rubina, and Ali out to eat at McDonalds. Ali looked the most excited because he was trying to hide his smile the whole time we were ordering. We ordered everyone French fries and the Fish O-Fillet sandwiches and a soda. Although Rubina wasn’t there, my mom still bought food for her to eat at home. Sheeba kept insisting that we take her food since we didn’t order for ourselves, but my mom and I kept saying no.
The day as a whole taught me a lot. I don’t think I realized how much I have in common with Sheeba until today, and more importantly I realized that my family and her family had so much in common as well. This whole time I feel like I’ve been looking at the Nazari family as refugees rather than normal people. They lived the same as we did, just with less. And even with that, they were so, so generous.
February 10, 2017
Wow. The most unexpected thing that ever could have possibly happened just happened. Kowki called and said that she’s moving to Texas. This Monday. In 3 days! She said that she found a friend that lives there, and she wants to be around more people of similar background. I can understand to that, but she needs $500 by then, and I don’t know what to do on such short notice. I texted Rana to see if she has any advice or ideas in mind. I’m waiting for a response right now. My mom and I have been calling a couple people we think might help and so far we have $100 from one of my mom’s co-workers. My mom said we’re going to stop by one more time before they go—probably Sunday—so I need something by then. My mom says we have some sadaqah money saved up that we can give them, but other than that, I’m not sure what we can do on our own.
***side note: sadaqah is voluntarily giving charity in Islam. It’s different than zakat which is mandatory charity
February 13, 2017
I just got home from visiting Kowki for the last time. I remember asking my mom a few days ago whether or not she thought we actually helped them, and after today, I truly think that we did. We came with the clothes and the bangles that my cousin, Hira, gave us last week. She just came back from visiting Pakistan and had a lot of extra things that she was trying to get rid of. When we got to their building, Sheeba was waiting for us and walked us up to her apartment. My mom told her that we brought Eid clothes for them and she looked surprised but very happy. We put all the stuff down, and after we met with each other, my mom and I sat down on the couch and Kowki sat on the couch across from us with Habiba and Rubina while Sheeba was opening the box of bangles. I saw her face light up and she said she loved bangles. (Side note: bangles are very popular in countries like Afghanistan, Bangladesh, Pakistan, and India. They’re typically made of glass and you typically wear a different set for every outfit). Since I was little, I always loved them, too. I was glad that they were in her size, and her sister and I both watched her put on a pink and gold set while our moms talked. After a bit of watching Sheeba put them on, her sister came over to look at them, too. I loved seeing how excited they were, and then Rubina came over to look at the clothes we brought. Kowki opened the bag and pulled the dresses out one by one and Sheeba came over to pick them up and look at them. Every time she picked up a dress, she’d say something like “wow” or “it’s so pretty” and Rubina’s mouth would just drop open and her eyes got so wide. It was probably one of the cutest, purest things I’ve ever seen. The last dress was the purple dress, and before even opening it, she said “this one is my favorite” and her mouth dropped open and her eyes got wide again. They all looked so happy, the happiest I had ever seen them.
After my mom took a picture of us, she and Kowki started talking about their bad eyesight. Kowki told my mom that she should use surma every night as it’s helped her. My mom said she knew about how good surma was, but you can’t get pure surma in America. She turned over to Sheeba and said something in Farsi. A moment later she turned back to my mom and told her that she had pure surma with her. My mom kept declining her offer, but Kowki and Sheeba opened up their suitcases looking for it anyways. After about four suitcases, Kowki found it and told us about how her mother had given it to her in Afghanistan as a gift after Sheeba was born (Surma doesn’t expire). She even made the green bag it was in. My mom told her that it seemed like such a valuable thing, seeing as her mother was still in Afghanistan and sick, but Kowki insisted that it was the least she could do for us. She talked about her family in Afghanistan. She wants to bring her mother to the U.S. someday, but her other family doesn’t care much for coming here. Kowki told us she got a call from her sister and she asked for her to send money. Everyone in Pakistan, and apparently Afghanistan as well, thinks money grows on trees and the streets are paved with gold in America. When she told her sister that she didn’t have enough money to send, she was told “then what even was the point in going to America”? Kowki continued saying, “They don’t ask if the kids and I are okay, they ask about money.” It was sad to hear, but it struck a chord with me. My extended family was never known for asking how my mom and her kids were doing either, especially after my dad passed away in 2008. She told us more about her husband too. He had some mental health issue, but it hadn’t been diagnosed. She told us that she’d find him banging his head on the walls or glass and he had anxiety and he wouldn’t talk much. He’d never talked to me since the first day I met him. My mom proposed the idea that maybe it was depression, but she said it could be, but no one was sure. I know a lot of refugees suffer from PTSD, so that’s another possibility.
In our culture, it’s common that the person who has company offers their guests chai (tea). They didn’t have any tea, but they offered us milk. I smiled at the thought, but my mom and I both refused. She offered us rice too; she said they had a lot left over. She told us about how they’d usually eat the rice plain and sparingly so they wouldn’t run out too soon, but now that they were leaving, they had so much left over. I remembered when I brought her rice, too, and I wonder if they had eaten it all by now or not.
When we were leaving, I went around and hugged each of the kids. Sheeba and I had gotten the closest over our time together. After her I went to Habiba. I hugged her, and she hugged back. Even after I let go of her, she wouldn’t unwrap herself from around my hips. We laughed and Sheeba said “bas kar” which pretty much translates to “you can stop now”. I went to Ali next; I was going to miss him. He was so cute. His hug only really came to my legs, and I picked him up and swung him around a little. After I put him down, I went to Rubina. She gave me a hug and told me that if she was a little stronger she would pick me up, too, but I told her “main to app ko pakar sak te hoo,” (“Well I can pick you up”) and I did. When I put her down a second later, she laughed and said “Thank you”. I went to Kowki last. We exchanged our “Allah hafiz” and “we’ll miss you so much,” and “stay in contact”, and then we had to leave. They gathered outside their door to wave goodbye to us until we made it down the stairs and out of their view. Their smiles and laughter stayed in my head. I wish the best for them. I hope they find just what they’re looking for in Texas. I hope they love America, and get to live how they want. I wish the best for the baby that’s about to be born. I’ll really miss them a lot. I wasn’t expecting them to leave, and I do wish they’d stay, but I’m happy we got to help them in some way in the time we had.
February 14, 2017
I emailed Mrs. Bout because I wanted advice as to what I might do for capstone now that my family left. I was thinking about getting another family, if there is another that speaks Urdu. I also like the idea of talking to people about what I experienced through capstone. With what’s going on in politics right now, I think it’s very relevant. I hate hearing ignorant people talk about the refugee crisis or the travel ban, so if I could educate even one person, I feel like I’d be pretty happy with myself. I think I’m going to try to talk to Erikson soon and ask him if I can talk to his class about it.
Also: We got a text from Kowki saying that they landed safely in Texas. I hope they enjoy their experience there, and I hope they didn’t have any trouble at the airport. I wish them all the best. I can understand why they’d want to go somewhere where they have more Afghani people. I do wish I got to introduce them to the Pakistani community here in Connecticut, but I guess this is what was meant to happen.
February 20, 2017
My mom keeps insisting that I ask Rana for another family to help. It felt great for both my mom and I to help Kowki, but as much as I want to make more of a difference, I also want to focus on getting the experience I received out to other people. I feel like that’ll have a wider impact.
March 7, 2017
Since our last visit to Kowki when we gave her $500, she’s needed $200 more. My mom sent it in the mail previously but we it came back “return to sender”. Kowki knew someone who lives here in Connecticut that could give it to her in person, so he came to meet my mom and I at the store. His name was Mohammad Ali (I wish it was the boxer, it wasn’t. Mohammad Ali is a pretty common Muslim name) and he was from Afghanistan too. He stayed for a while and talked about his own experience in America with us. He had fled Afghanistan two years ago and come to the U.S. as a refugee, too. Since then, he served in the military and later on began helping other refugees that settled in Connecticut—that’s how he got into contact with Kowki. His story was touching, and I hope that I can continue doing something similar in the future.
Update at 8pm: I just found out that the 6 year anniversary for the Syrian Civil War is on the 15th, and I want to do something so badly to mark the day. I know most people probably don’t know what the day marks, so I figured raising awareness would be an effective way to go. I was looking through old capstone projects, and I saw and remembered others selling ribbons for their cause. Raising money would be great, I know how much the people in Syria and the refugees need help. All that help costs money.
March 16, 2017
I made a poster and made all the ribbons over the snow days, and today I started selling them. I realized a slight problem in my plan. Once I got a table and set everything up in the lobby, almost everyone had already arrived at school and was starting to head up to class. After seeing that, I decided to go around and sell to people I was almost certain would buy one from me—Mrs. Nguyen, Mrs. Weimer, and Mrs. Ladd, for example. I also sold to my friends in class and I made $32 by doing that. Not bad? I’ll set my goal to $200.
March 21, 2017
I’ve been selling ribbons continuously, and since I missed the bus this morning, I got dropped off at school early and managed to sell for a half hour in the lobby. I’ve made almost $100 and I’m happy with that so far. I knew that if I could make this much at school, I’d be able to make a lot more at the mosque during Sunday school. Last year the youth group did a lot of bake sales to support Palestine and Syria, so I think I’ll pick it up this year.
March 25, 2017
I baked a cake and some brownies for Sunday school today. I sold out of everything by the end of the day even though it was raining and was therefore only allowed to sell in the women’s side of the mosque. I made $35—pretty good. I also set up a box for people to donate to Syria at my mom’s store. I’m almost at $200 now.
April 2, 2017
I’m pretty much done selling ribbons at school now, so I’ve decided I’ll be doing a bake sale every week until the end of the Sunday school year (around May 13th). I made $47 today and have crossed the $300 mark. Until my last bake sale, my goal is to make at least $500. According to the UNHCR website, $500 can provide thermal blankets for 50 refugees. It can also provide emergency shelter for 2-5 families. Anything would be great, really. I know Syria needs every dollar it can get.
I’ve had the idea of wanting to help Syrian refugees for a while now. Ever since I became aware of the situation in Syria and Palestine, my heart hurt for all the innocent people who had their lives torn apart by conflict and war. What motivated me the most to get involved was when I saw religion come into play. Syrian refugees were being rejected from coming into the U.S. because of the fear and stigma that came with the idea of “radical Islam”. I felt terrible that so many people were being rejected the access to a better life for such insignificant reasons.
September 3, 2016:
I texted a family friend of mine who works at my mosque if he could find a Syrian family near me. He texted back that he would find me a family as soon as he got back in state. I’m hoping he can and will follow through with it, and if he does he can most likely also be a mentor for me. If not I have another mentor in mind, I’m on good terms with the principal of the Sunday School in my mosque and I’m sure she could help me too.
September 6, 2016
I got another text from the family friend I had contacted earlier, he said that he talked to whoever was in charge of the refugee “situation” at our mosque and that he should get a call from him tomorrow. Everything seems to be working so far.
September 10, 2016
My mom told me today that the family friend I had contacted (I call him Anis Uncle) called her and wanted to ask her if I was serious about wanting to be hooked up with a Syrian family. It was slightly irritating that he didn’t take me seriously, but the more important thing he brought to my attention was that there was an obvious language barrier between the Syrians and I. They speak Arabic, and I speak English (and Urdu). But I know I still want to help them, the best idea I have at the moment is to have some of my Arabic speaking friends translate and help communicate with them.
September 14, 2016
I am very relieved I got to talk to Mrs. Boutilier today. She said my idea to have my Arabic friends talk to them would be extremely helpful. She also told me about what Mida had done with her refugee family last year and it really inspired me. I didn’t even know that something like this could help a family as much as Mida helped hers. I hope I get the opportunity to do just as much if not even more.
September 20, 2016
I’m not quite sure if I’ve figured out how to balance Calc 2 and capstone yet. I’ve been talking to Mrs. Boutilier when I can because she technically is my capstone teacher. I’ve been talking to people about getting me a refugee but I usually get pretty delayed responses with little help. I’m kind of thinking about finding some different people to help me instead.
October 7, 2016
My mentor put me in contact with a group called CT Anchor and I’ve been emailing them for a few days. I recognized one of the girls in the group, Reem, from my mosque, and she asked me where I lived and other basic questions to see if they could find a family for me to help. She told me there was an event at Madinah Academy tomorrow about resettling refugees, so I plan on going. Hopefully something will turn out well.
October 8, 2016
So I went to the meeting at Madinah Academy today and it was pretty interesting. There were only like ten people who went but it was very informing about what was going on in Syria as well as what the U.S. was doing to help refugees and what they were doing in terms of letting them into the country. However, what the man there was saying didn’t really apply to me. He was telling us what bigger organizations could do to help refugee families, not individual people. After the information was given out, I met Reem and she showed me the warehouse full of donations of clothing, shoes, kitchen supplies, etc. where refugees could come and take whatever they needed. It was nice to see that there is at least something out there for all them. After that, though, she told me that there weren’t any refugee families in Windsor that I could help. There was one in New Britain she knew about. I told her that someone Mrs. Boutilier offered me a family but I wanted to see who else was out there just in case. New Britain is really far from me and the family in Manchester didn’t need help. So I don’t think I got as much out of this as I wanted to; Reem said I could volunteer at the warehouse on weekends, but that’s about it. I feel kind of stuck right now. If the family that Mrs. Boutilier was talking about doesn’t work out I’m not really sure what I’m going to do next.
October 16, 2016
I emailed Mrs. Boutilier last week saying that if the family she knows needs any help, I can go see them on Wednesday since the rest of the school will be taking PSAT’s. Before that, though, I need to find someone who will be able to translate for me. Today at Sunday school I went to Sameera. I’ve known her for two years now and I’m closest to her. I knew she knew some language other than English, so I guess I always assumed it was Arabic. Turns out it isn’t. As unfortunate as that was, Sameera said she knew someone who could help me. She knew someone who actually worked with refugees named Rana and gave me her number.
October 19, 2016
Well, the family that Mrs. Boutilier had in mind is already in good hands. I’m actually really happy that I’ve been looking around just in case this would happen, and as if there could be no better timing, Rana texted me back. She offered me a Syrian family in New Britain, but I again had to deny because I lived too far. Then, she asked me if I spoke Urdu, and I got a little excited. She had an Afghani refugee family in Hartford who spoke fluent Urdu. She told me that they fled to Pakistan and then came to America trying to escape the Taliban and that their story was really sad. I told her that I would do my best to help them. Although I first intended on helping Syrian refugees, I felt even more connected to this family. They fled from the country I was from; they spoke my language, so how could I say no? Rana told me that she’d get me their information soon.
October 24, 2016
Rana finally got me their address and phone number. I don’t know much about them, but the person whose number I have is named Kowki.
October 30, 2016
I really feel like I’ve been neglecting my capstone. I know that’s so terrible when I’m in charge of helping a needy family, but I feel so overwhelmed. I have to study for a Calc quiz, my Chemistry SAT Subject Test, apply for the Day of Pride Scholarship for UCONN, work on my research paper for Psychology and Sociology at the same time, too. I don’t know how to fit everything into my schedule and I’m afraid I’ve been pushing capstone to the end of my list. After my Math II and Chemistry SATs on the 5th, I’ll try to focus more on this.
November 8, 2016
I finally got the chance to call the family today and it definitely wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. She sounded sad and almost even a little desperate for help and kept saying thank you. I haven’t even done anything yet! She texted me all her kids sizes and didn’t even tell me anything about herself until I did. I can tell she doesn’t really know English, only the generic words that all Pakistanis/Afghanis seem to know. She spelled “shirt” as “shairt”. “Pant” was spelled “pent” and “size” was “saiz”. It took a while to decipher, but I found the information I needed. I didn’t want to ask her everything she’d been through all at once because that seemed kind of insensitive, but I hope I’ll get closer to them with time.
My next step of action to help this family is getting clothes. That is my main priority at the moment because it’s already starting to get cold and once winter actually gets here, I want them to be as comfortable as possible. It’s usually pretty warm in Pakistan year-round so I feel they might be caught a bit off guard. My mom says she’ll give them a lot of our old jackets and clothes because my brothers and I are roughly the same age as Kowki’s children. I want to have a clothing drive at school, too, but I’m not so sure yet. I’ll see what I can come up with.
Update at 9pm: My mom took me with her to vote today, but right before we got to the polling area in Stafford, I got a call from Kowki. I stood outside the car while my mom went in to vote and talked to her. She wanted to make sure I got her text about her kids’ clothing sizes. The part that I really noticed, though, was that she kept repeating the words “okay” and “sorry” whenever I said something that didn’t require a real response. I didn’t want her to apologize to me for asking for help, or anything like that. It made me a little sad.
November 9, 2016
I got the word out for my clothing drive. I hope I get what I need. I still have no idea what these people look like or what they like or anything. All I have is an imaginary image that corresponds to the voice I hear on the phone. I don’t know what they need. Kowki hasn’t asked me for anything. I know that I’ve only talked to her a few times, but I was expecting them to ask me to help them more. I don’t imagine them having much, so why are they holding back? Maybe it’s just because they don’t know me yet.
November 11, 2016
I’ve finally had some extra time to catch up on my capstone. I’m pretty proud of myself. The research paper rough draft is due on Monday. I’m just hoping I’ll be able to put together something quality in time. I want this to be good, I know I have potential to write something meaningful, I’m just trying to find out how to word it correctly. I don’t want it to get too political, but with Trump just being elected, I hope I can keep it that way.
November 13, 2016
My research paper is turned in! This is a big week for capstone. I feel proud, relieved, excited, and nervous all at once. I’m hoping that meeting the family for the first time won’t be awkward or anything. What am I supposed to say to someone in that kind of situation? I don’t really know anything about them. What do I talk about? How do I talk to them? Formal or informal? And my Urdu is definitely rusty. I barely talk to anyone in Urdu. Although it is my first language, I’ve lost the habit of speaking in it. Since my mom isn’t home much because of work, I kind of lost my reason to speak it. My brothers always spoke in English, and I honestly don’t remember what language my dad spoke to me in. I’m pretty self conscious about talking in Urdu now. Every time I try, I have someone end up laughing at me. I do want to fix my Urdu, and that is honestly part of the reason I wanted to help Kowki, as well. However, I’m still uncomfortable talking in it. I’ll have to force it, though. I don’t have any other way of communicating with them.
November 18, 2016
I’ve been talking to Rivera for a couple of days now so I can get one of his boxes from the food drive. I assumed that if they didn’t have clothing, they’d probably also need food. I didn’t tell them I was getting them food because I wanted to surprise them. I knew what they could and couldn’t eat (Muslims cannot eat pork, but besides that many of us only eat halal meat). Since finding good, halal food is decently hard to find in America, I figured anything would be nice. I sorted out a box with some muffin mix, beans, corn, cranberry sauce, and (most importantly) lots of rice. I hope they like it.
I called Kowki later and told her that I was going to stop by with some clothes for her family on the 23rd. Since we have a half day that day, I’d get a chance to go in daylight. My mom doesn’t like driving to new places in the dark. After I told her, she said “thank you” three times in a row. That was so sweet. It made me happy that I was helping someone in need, but it also made me wonder what her situation was like. I know she’s a refugee, but I don’t know that much about what the Taliban does in Afghanistan. And even in Pakistan, I only know a little. I think I’ll look into it. Maybe it’ll help me understand.
November 21, 2016
I got a call from Kowki today. She started our conversation off with saying “sorry to bother you” (In Urdu). And all she wanted to ask me was to call her before I come to her house on Wednesday. It makes me sad whenever she apologizes to me like that. I’m excited to meet her, though. I’m expecting a pretty small place, probably without much stuff inside. I know a lot of people who donated mattresses for refugees at my mosque. Maybe they don’t have mattresses yet either. I doubt they have a car or a TV or anything like that, but I’m not sure. When I went to that meeting at Madinah Academy last month they said that they usually decorate houses and fill them with a few things (furniture, food, etc) before the family settles in. So they must have something?
November 23, 2016
Today was quite a day. First off: the senior potluck. I had to give a short talk about what I was doing for capstone, and although I was dreading it, it came to good use! Erna was sitting nearby and heard what I was doing. She said she loved what I was doing and her mosque had winter clothing that was specifically donated for refugees. I didn’t know what could be more perfect. After school, she texted me and told me that she could get a bag from there for sure.
Later in the school day, I got all the clothing people had collected from the “staff clothing drive” we had. I didn’t really know what to expect other than Mrs. Zamorski’s donation, but whether or not she was the only one who donated, I was pretty happy with what I ended up with. It was a bit of a struggle to haul a huge garbage bag of clothing (Thank you Mrs. Bout and Kevin) out to my car. At the same time, Mr. Rivera had a guy in my Spanish class bring my box of food downstairs to the lobby. It was a lot, but I got it into the car. My mom was stuck at work so she had a family friend give me a ride to Kowki’s house. I had never been in that part of Hartford before, and all I did the entire time was look out the window and wonder what I was going to do and say when I met Kowki. It was definitely an eye opening thing to see. I had never seen low income housing before—and if I had then I never paid attention to it until now. For some reason, I didn’t think of low income housing when I imagined visiting Kowki for the first time. I imagined a normal apartment or condo. For 5 minutes before we even got to her home, my mom’s friend was constantly talking about how “dangerous” this part of Hartford was because of the type of people who lived in low income housing. He gets paranoid a lot.
After he parked the car, we both went inside. The front of the building was kind of dirty. There was a stain on the paint and newspaper on the ground and a very weird smell that I have no idea how to describe. My mom’s friend said it was probably urine, and I’d like to think it wasn’t but I haven’t thought of an alternative yet. There were boxes in the wall, also, that I’m assuming is for mail. They all had names on them, and I saw Kowki Nazari.
None of the doors inside had numbers on them, so I called her to find out which door she lived behind. I had to go outside next to the car so my mom’s friend wouldn’t hear me talking in Urdu, and quite unfortunately, she told me she wasn’t even home. She said she was at the doctor. I didn’t want to ask why, but I told her it was fine. She got very upset, though, I could tell by her voice. It was like she was worried she made me upset and that I wasn’t going to help her anymore. She kept asking when I’d be back, too. It felt like she had to make sure I was still going to help her. And it was sad because it made me think of how much help she might really, desperately need.
November 27, 2016
Today I got the chance to go back to Kowki’s house. Seeing her building wasn’t any easier the second time and I was just as nervous. I called her to ask which apartment was hers, and she said that she was going to send her kids to get us. After a minute or two I saw a man and two girls walk out of the apartment towards us. I didn’t know who the man was at the time, but he did turn out to be Kowki’s husband. She never mentioned him before, so I had no idea. After we all grabbed some of the stuff, they took us up three short flights of stairs to their apartment. I was only in the living room for the time we were there, but it was nicer than I expected. They had couches, a table, rugs, a TV, etc.
Seeing Kowki for the first time was different than I expected. I imagined them to look more Pakistani in my head, but I guess I just forgot they were from Afghanistan. Habit, I guess. She was very nice though, and said thank you for everything—just like she did on the phone. She told us to sit down, and her little son sat on a chair looking at us quietly the entire time. Two of her daughters were so shy; they went in a room out of my view. Her oldest daughter stayed next to her mom just like how I stayed with mine. I got an introduction to all the kids. Three girls and a little boy, in order of age their names are Sheeba, Rubina, Habiba, and Ali. For most of the time, it was Kowki and my mom talking. I wanted to talk, but not in Urdu. Unfortunately, that was my only option.
They exchanged stories, and I listened. My mom started off with our story of her being a single mom having to raise three kids. Kowki opened up right after us and told us about what she experienced in Afghanistan and Pakistan. She told us about her husband disappearing for days. When he got back, he wouldn’t talk about what happened. She told us about how her family would have to go days without food. The Taliban had taken over the area she used to live in, but even after leaving to Pakistan, she had problems dealing with her husband’s mental state and their food shortages. I had heard refugees’ stories online before, but hearing it in person by an actual refugee made it feel so much more real. Right before we were about to leave, Kowki told us one last thing. She was pregnant. I realized then, no wonder nearly every time I call her she’s at or coming from a doctor’s appointment.
December 11, 2017
Erna texted me again today, she had a bag of clothes for me to take and also had a friend who offered to take the girls shopping! I thought that was so sweet, and definitely not what I was expecting. I needed to be there to translate for them, but I thought it could be fun. It would be nice for them to have a “girl’s day”. The main problem is transportation. I’m not sure what to do about that. My mom’s van broke down last week and it’s at the mechanic’s right now. There’s a problem with the transmission and my mom says that’s really expensive to fix, so I have no idea how long we’ll be without a car. Until we get our van working again, I can’t do much for capstone.
December 12, 2017
In the lobby before we headed up for class, I was talking to Erna a bit about what she texted me yesterday. She said it would be great to take the girls shopping so they’d have some fun and make new friends. I can’t believe that up until this point I didn’t really think about getting them involved with other people to make friends. I know a lot more of the Pakistani community than Sheeba and the other girls do and I’m sure they’d like to meet them. I personally love having friends that had the same background as I did, and I’m sure that having those kinds of friendships would make the transition into living in America much more comfortable.
December 18, 2017
Erna brought me the clothes from her mosque on Wednesday, and my mom said that we’d drop it off for her on her way from work today. Our van is still not working so she borrowed a friend’s car. Kowki said that she needed some maternity clothes because her clothes were getting tight, so my mom and I went to Saver’s to find something that may be cheap but still in good condition. There were a couple of dresses there that my mom said would be fine. We went to her house afterwards, and my mom told me to stay in the car while she gave the clothes to Kowki because it was getting late and she didn’t want to stay until it got dark out. My mom has always been a little afraid of cities at night—it’s kind of weird to me considering she grew up in the largest city in Pakistan.
December 30, 2017
I got a call from Kowki today. When I answered, she said Salam and called me beta (Side note: this is a pretty typical way for Pakistani/Afghani people to greet someone. Beta means child in Urdu but it’s used affectionately usually between older family or family friends to someone significantly younger than them). I was a little surprised at first; this was the first time she called me that. And the entire conversation sounded like I was talking to a close aunt, not a refugee mother I was trying to support. She asked how I was doing, and how my family was doing. I told her that we had been sick for a while and that we hadn’t been able to visit in a while because our van broke down. She said not to worry about it, and that she hoped we felt better. She gave us one of those home remedies that Pakistani Aunties so often tell each other. It happened to be one of the remedies my mom uses already (green tea boiled with ginger and sweetened with honey), but the thought was really sweet.
January 5, 2017
Our van finally got fixed. My mom says that we’re going to stop by Kowki’s house soon because we promised to take them shopping for new shoes and we haven’t yet.
January 14, 2017
Today was an entire day spent with Kowki and her kids. After my mom got out of work around 2:00pm, we headed out to Hartford. We told them that we were going to go shopping with them at Sam’s Club and Walmart. When we got to their apartment, all of them were pretty much ready, except for Rubina, who was sick and wanted to stay home. She had a fever and a headache, so we decided to get her some medicine while we were out because they didn’t have any at home. We got in the car so Kowki and Ali sat in the middle two seats and both girls sat with me in the back. While we drove, Sheeba and I talked a lot; just general getting to know each other kind of talks. I was happy to talk in Urdu with her because she didn’t seem fazed by it at all. Kowki told me that before we got to their house, Sheeba was making roti (not sure how to describe it—it’s a staple food in a lot of Southeast Asian homes. It’s kind of like flatbread, but not exactly). She was picking the dough out from under her fingernails and I thought of all the times I had to go through the same ordeal. Kowki asked me if I knew how to make roti, and I said, “ha liken achi nahi banti,” meaning “yes but not very well.” Classic Pakistani humor. (It’s funnier in Urdu/If you’re Pakistani, I promise).
As we were leaving Hartford, Sheeba and her sister looked outside the entire time. She was so surprised when she saw the Connecticut River. As drove over the bridge, she said to me, “There’s a river here? We had no idea. When we first came here I asked the lady who helped us move in if there was any body of water around here, and she said no.” I didn’t realize until then, they had been in the U.S. for months now, and had never been outside of their little area of Hartford. I complain to my mom when she keeps me in the house for two days in a row, I had no idea how they must’ve felt. All anyone in Pakistan dreams of is coming to America someday. Imagine coming here and not being able to see all the great things there are to see. Our conversation moved from there and Sheeba told me that in Afghanistan her family owned a beauty salon and her and her mom used to work there together. I told her about how my mom has a gas station and I work there with her whenever she needs help, too. I asked her what it was like in Afghanistan, and she just shrugged, she said it was kind of like Connecticut—meaning lots of trees. When they came to Pakistan afterwards, the Peshawar area they were in also has a lot of trees. I told her that my family was from Karachi. She looked surprised and told her mom in Farsi. She asked me when I came to America, and I told her I was born here in Hartford, and that Urdu was still my first language. She looked at me surprised again and told her mom like it was some big deal—it made me smile.
We got out of the car at Sam’s Club. Sheeba looked at the sign in the front and sounded it out, getting it perfectly right the first time. I told her that this and Walmart were really popular stores in America. I also told her that we weren’t in Hartford anymore because I didn’t think she knew. She seemed surprised and asked me where we were, and I told her Manchester. She sounded it out again “man-ches-ter”. And when I told her she got it right, she turned to her mom with confidence and told her where we were. It was sweet to watch. After we got inside, we went to looking at the winter jackets first. Ali tried on a puffy, dark blue jacket, and Habiba tried on a couple more but settled on a purple one of the same kind. Sheeba and I went to another part of the store to look for a coat for her. I bumped into my friend Hiba and talked to her for a bit. I told Sheeba that there were a lot of Pakistani girls our age in the state, we were just spread apart. I hope I can introduce her to some of my friends eventually. Sheeba showed me the coats she liked, but didn’t get any of them. She liked the peacoats with the hoods on them, and I told her to get it, but she kept insisting that she had a jacket at home already. I’m not sure if I believe her, though, because it was pretty cold today and she was only wearing a cardigan. From there, we all moved over to the shoes. I saw Sheeba looking at a pair of heeled booties, but again she told me that she didn’t want anything when I asked her. She didn’t get anything from Sam’s Club. What we ended up buying were three winter jackets, one for each child, except Sheeba. We also got a pair of boots for Habiba.
Next, we went to Walmart, because we didn’t find shoes for everyone. Once we got there, Sheeba and I separated from everyone else while they were trying to find shoes and clothing. My mom told me to look for a headache/fever reducer for Rubina and to get Sheeba some face wash because she was breaking out. She asked me what she could do to stop her acne, but I told her that my skin wasn’t any better. She said that right now, she just used regular soap to wash her face, and I showed her some products similar to what I had at home. She kept saying she didn’t need it, but I made her take it. Then, we went over to get some medicine. She looked kind of surprised and asked me “don’t you need a prescription to get medicine here”? As we walked around the store and back to our parents, I told her about American life. It was just the basics, but still pretty different than life in Afghanistan. On one last trip around Walmart, I asked Sheeba if there was anything else she wanted. She hesitated a little and told me she really wanted a curling wand for her hair. I have to admit, I was a little surprised at first, but when she told me why, I don’t even know how to explain how I felt. She told me how at school, the other girls would say she looked so “simple” because she always came to school with her natural, board straight hair and makeup-free face. It made me upset that something like that had to be a problem for her. She had spent so much time in her home country doing other people’s hair and makeup, and as if she didn’t miss that enough, now she felt bad about not being able to do all that with herself. I told her that she could leave braids or twists in her hair overnight to curl her hair naturally, but she told me she had tried and her hair didn’t hold shape well. I wanted to be able to take her to the mall and buy her new clothes and makeup and hair products. I think I have an old curling wand in my room somewhere, I don’t use it because my hair is already fairly curly, so if I find it I’m sure Sheeba will like it a lot.
At the very end of our shopping spree, we took Kowki, Sheeba, Rubina, and Ali out to eat at McDonalds. Ali looked the most excited because he was trying to hide his smile the whole time we were ordering. We ordered everyone French fries and the Fish O-Fillet sandwiches and a soda. Although Rubina wasn’t there, my mom still bought food for her to eat at home. Sheeba kept insisting that we take her food since we didn’t order for ourselves, but my mom and I kept saying no.
The day as a whole taught me a lot. I don’t think I realized how much I have in common with Sheeba until today, and more importantly I realized that my family and her family had so much in common as well. This whole time I feel like I’ve been looking at the Nazari family as refugees rather than normal people. They lived the same as we did, just with less. And even with that, they were so, so generous.
February 10, 2017
Wow. The most unexpected thing that ever could have possibly happened just happened. Kowki called and said that she’s moving to Texas. This Monday. In 3 days! She said that she found a friend that lives there, and she wants to be around more people of similar background. I can understand to that, but she needs $500 by then, and I don’t know what to do on such short notice. I texted Rana to see if she has any advice or ideas in mind. I’m waiting for a response right now. My mom and I have been calling a couple people we think might help and so far we have $100 from one of my mom’s co-workers. My mom said we’re going to stop by one more time before they go—probably Sunday—so I need something by then. My mom says we have some sadaqah money saved up that we can give them, but other than that, I’m not sure what we can do on our own.
***side note: sadaqah is voluntarily giving charity in Islam. It’s different than zakat which is mandatory charity
February 13, 2017
I just got home from visiting Kowki for the last time. I remember asking my mom a few days ago whether or not she thought we actually helped them, and after today, I truly think that we did. We came with the clothes and the bangles that my cousin, Hira, gave us last week. She just came back from visiting Pakistan and had a lot of extra things that she was trying to get rid of. When we got to their building, Sheeba was waiting for us and walked us up to her apartment. My mom told her that we brought Eid clothes for them and she looked surprised but very happy. We put all the stuff down, and after we met with each other, my mom and I sat down on the couch and Kowki sat on the couch across from us with Habiba and Rubina while Sheeba was opening the box of bangles. I saw her face light up and she said she loved bangles. (Side note: bangles are very popular in countries like Afghanistan, Bangladesh, Pakistan, and India. They’re typically made of glass and you typically wear a different set for every outfit). Since I was little, I always loved them, too. I was glad that they were in her size, and her sister and I both watched her put on a pink and gold set while our moms talked. After a bit of watching Sheeba put them on, her sister came over to look at them, too. I loved seeing how excited they were, and then Rubina came over to look at the clothes we brought. Kowki opened the bag and pulled the dresses out one by one and Sheeba came over to pick them up and look at them. Every time she picked up a dress, she’d say something like “wow” or “it’s so pretty” and Rubina’s mouth would just drop open and her eyes got so wide. It was probably one of the cutest, purest things I’ve ever seen. The last dress was the purple dress, and before even opening it, she said “this one is my favorite” and her mouth dropped open and her eyes got wide again. They all looked so happy, the happiest I had ever seen them.
After my mom took a picture of us, she and Kowki started talking about their bad eyesight. Kowki told my mom that she should use surma every night as it’s helped her. My mom said she knew about how good surma was, but you can’t get pure surma in America. She turned over to Sheeba and said something in Farsi. A moment later she turned back to my mom and told her that she had pure surma with her. My mom kept declining her offer, but Kowki and Sheeba opened up their suitcases looking for it anyways. After about four suitcases, Kowki found it and told us about how her mother had given it to her in Afghanistan as a gift after Sheeba was born (Surma doesn’t expire). She even made the green bag it was in. My mom told her that it seemed like such a valuable thing, seeing as her mother was still in Afghanistan and sick, but Kowki insisted that it was the least she could do for us. She talked about her family in Afghanistan. She wants to bring her mother to the U.S. someday, but her other family doesn’t care much for coming here. Kowki told us she got a call from her sister and she asked for her to send money. Everyone in Pakistan, and apparently Afghanistan as well, thinks money grows on trees and the streets are paved with gold in America. When she told her sister that she didn’t have enough money to send, she was told “then what even was the point in going to America”? Kowki continued saying, “They don’t ask if the kids and I are okay, they ask about money.” It was sad to hear, but it struck a chord with me. My extended family was never known for asking how my mom and her kids were doing either, especially after my dad passed away in 2008. She told us more about her husband too. He had some mental health issue, but it hadn’t been diagnosed. She told us that she’d find him banging his head on the walls or glass and he had anxiety and he wouldn’t talk much. He’d never talked to me since the first day I met him. My mom proposed the idea that maybe it was depression, but she said it could be, but no one was sure. I know a lot of refugees suffer from PTSD, so that’s another possibility.
In our culture, it’s common that the person who has company offers their guests chai (tea). They didn’t have any tea, but they offered us milk. I smiled at the thought, but my mom and I both refused. She offered us rice too; she said they had a lot left over. She told us about how they’d usually eat the rice plain and sparingly so they wouldn’t run out too soon, but now that they were leaving, they had so much left over. I remembered when I brought her rice, too, and I wonder if they had eaten it all by now or not.
When we were leaving, I went around and hugged each of the kids. Sheeba and I had gotten the closest over our time together. After her I went to Habiba. I hugged her, and she hugged back. Even after I let go of her, she wouldn’t unwrap herself from around my hips. We laughed and Sheeba said “bas kar” which pretty much translates to “you can stop now”. I went to Ali next; I was going to miss him. He was so cute. His hug only really came to my legs, and I picked him up and swung him around a little. After I put him down, I went to Rubina. She gave me a hug and told me that if she was a little stronger she would pick me up, too, but I told her “main to app ko pakar sak te hoo,” (“Well I can pick you up”) and I did. When I put her down a second later, she laughed and said “Thank you”. I went to Kowki last. We exchanged our “Allah hafiz” and “we’ll miss you so much,” and “stay in contact”, and then we had to leave. They gathered outside their door to wave goodbye to us until we made it down the stairs and out of their view. Their smiles and laughter stayed in my head. I wish the best for them. I hope they find just what they’re looking for in Texas. I hope they love America, and get to live how they want. I wish the best for the baby that’s about to be born. I’ll really miss them a lot. I wasn’t expecting them to leave, and I do wish they’d stay, but I’m happy we got to help them in some way in the time we had.
February 14, 2017
I emailed Mrs. Bout because I wanted advice as to what I might do for capstone now that my family left. I was thinking about getting another family, if there is another that speaks Urdu. I also like the idea of talking to people about what I experienced through capstone. With what’s going on in politics right now, I think it’s very relevant. I hate hearing ignorant people talk about the refugee crisis or the travel ban, so if I could educate even one person, I feel like I’d be pretty happy with myself. I think I’m going to try to talk to Erikson soon and ask him if I can talk to his class about it.
Also: We got a text from Kowki saying that they landed safely in Texas. I hope they enjoy their experience there, and I hope they didn’t have any trouble at the airport. I wish them all the best. I can understand why they’d want to go somewhere where they have more Afghani people. I do wish I got to introduce them to the Pakistani community here in Connecticut, but I guess this is what was meant to happen.
February 20, 2017
My mom keeps insisting that I ask Rana for another family to help. It felt great for both my mom and I to help Kowki, but as much as I want to make more of a difference, I also want to focus on getting the experience I received out to other people. I feel like that’ll have a wider impact.
March 7, 2017
Since our last visit to Kowki when we gave her $500, she’s needed $200 more. My mom sent it in the mail previously but we it came back “return to sender”. Kowki knew someone who lives here in Connecticut that could give it to her in person, so he came to meet my mom and I at the store. His name was Mohammad Ali (I wish it was the boxer, it wasn’t. Mohammad Ali is a pretty common Muslim name) and he was from Afghanistan too. He stayed for a while and talked about his own experience in America with us. He had fled Afghanistan two years ago and come to the U.S. as a refugee, too. Since then, he served in the military and later on began helping other refugees that settled in Connecticut—that’s how he got into contact with Kowki. His story was touching, and I hope that I can continue doing something similar in the future.
Update at 8pm: I just found out that the 6 year anniversary for the Syrian Civil War is on the 15th, and I want to do something so badly to mark the day. I know most people probably don’t know what the day marks, so I figured raising awareness would be an effective way to go. I was looking through old capstone projects, and I saw and remembered others selling ribbons for their cause. Raising money would be great, I know how much the people in Syria and the refugees need help. All that help costs money.
March 16, 2017
I made a poster and made all the ribbons over the snow days, and today I started selling them. I realized a slight problem in my plan. Once I got a table and set everything up in the lobby, almost everyone had already arrived at school and was starting to head up to class. After seeing that, I decided to go around and sell to people I was almost certain would buy one from me—Mrs. Nguyen, Mrs. Weimer, and Mrs. Ladd, for example. I also sold to my friends in class and I made $32 by doing that. Not bad? I’ll set my goal to $200.
March 21, 2017
I’ve been selling ribbons continuously, and since I missed the bus this morning, I got dropped off at school early and managed to sell for a half hour in the lobby. I’ve made almost $100 and I’m happy with that so far. I knew that if I could make this much at school, I’d be able to make a lot more at the mosque during Sunday school. Last year the youth group did a lot of bake sales to support Palestine and Syria, so I think I’ll pick it up this year.
March 25, 2017
I baked a cake and some brownies for Sunday school today. I sold out of everything by the end of the day even though it was raining and was therefore only allowed to sell in the women’s side of the mosque. I made $35—pretty good. I also set up a box for people to donate to Syria at my mom’s store. I’m almost at $200 now.
April 2, 2017
I’m pretty much done selling ribbons at school now, so I’ve decided I’ll be doing a bake sale every week until the end of the Sunday school year (around May 13th). I made $47 today and have crossed the $300 mark. Until my last bake sale, my goal is to make at least $500. According to the UNHCR website, $500 can provide thermal blankets for 50 refugees. It can also provide emergency shelter for 2-5 families. Anything would be great, really. I know Syria needs every dollar it can get.
"Stricken families have begun "taking children out of schools so they can work, so that they can try to earn more...we're seeing girls being married off earlier when the families can no longer feed them.""
Mother Jones, 2015