First Week of Advent: Hope

The hope of Advent is the poignant memory that Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior came into the world as a vulnerable, poor and homeless child. His parents, Mary and Joseph, were refugees at least twice. Before Jesus was born, they were forced to leave Nazareth and travel to Bethlehem by decree of the Roman Emperor.  After Jesus’ birth, they were forced to flee Bethlehem for Egypt due to King Herod’s murderous intentions.

During Advent, we remember and celebrate the hope of Mary and Joseph and their trust in God to bless and keep their little baby safe. Unfortunately, we are reminded daily that there are still empires and rulers in the world whose unjust decrees force families to flee for their lives. Christians, especially, are called to care deeply for these refugees, to recognize in them the holy family in today’s world.  We are to be a safe harbor, a place of respite, knowing that as we assist and provide for today’s refugees, we are serving our Lord.  We must keep the hope of Advent alive by shining the Light of Christ into the darkness. Advent is not only a time for remembering and celebrating, but it is also an invitation to participate in the contemporary drama of the Nativity. What part will we play in welcoming the holy family into our communities, our homes and our hearts this year?

–Caren Teichmann 
  

Caren is a student at Vanderbilt University Divinity School currently interning with World Relief Nashville for the 2011-2012 academic year.

A Thanksgiving Prayer

As Thanksgiving grows near each year, the women of my family have a tradition of taking an annual trip together before the madness of December descends upon us.  This trip is for celebrating and strengthening our relationships as grandmother, mother, daughter,sister, aunt, cousin, and niece.  Because I have four sons and a husband in my immediate family, this time with my female relatives is especially necessary and important for me.  I am eternally grateful for each of these women and our time apart which always serves to renew and refresh my spirit. 

However, today I find the idea of leaving home is bittersweet. I am as excited as ever to go and be with my family but I am sad to be apart from my new friends at World Relief, even for a week.  It was with a heavy heart that I told my Burmese friends I would not be there on Tuesday to tutor English.  We had eleven most wonderful students on Friday for English class and it makes me so sad to have to miss this Friday. How it is that these people have become so near and dear to me in only a few months of interning at World Relief?

This morning for devotion I read a poem of thanksgiving by Howard Thurman, for "all the warmth of humankind that I have known." This poem helped me to understand the love I feel for my new friends and my sadness at being apart from them for the next few weeks.  It actually put my deeply felt appreciation to and for them in the context of family. And so this morning, hours before my family arrives and we begin our journey together, I offer this prayer of thanksgiving:

"We bring to mind all the warmth of humankind that we have known:
Our mothers' arms,
The strength of our fathers,
The playmates of our childhood...
The tears we have shed, the tears we have seen;
The excitement of laughter and the twinkle in the eye with its reminder that life
is good.
For all these we make an act of Thanksgiving this day."

Caren is a student at Vanderbilt University Divinity School currently interning with World Relief Nashville for the 2011-2012 academic year.

Empowered to Serve

After two months of interning at World Relief Nashville, I am learning what it means to empower the local Church to serve the most vulnerable. Last Tuesday as I drove to tutor my refugee friend, I couldn’t help but think about how much more confident I am now than I was six weeks ago. In the beginning, I didn’t know anything about how to teach English to a newly-arrived Burmese family. I didn’t have any experience working and building relationships with people so incredibly different from me in nationality, culture, customs and language. I hadn’t ever taught a job readiness class, or picked up a newly arrived family at the airport, or shopped at K and S World Market.

During these two months, I have had some stressful moments, to be sure. But whenever I find myself in over my head, I reach out to a World Relief staff member who patiently and gracefully pulls me back to safety. Someone is always available to hear my concerns, answer my questions, direct me to resources, offer suggestions and simply tell me, “Well done.”  Time and time again, I have been encouraged and affirmed in my ministry here.  I have been empowered by the confidence the staff has in my being able to do this work and do it well.

This is something of what I have come to recognize as Empowering the local Church to serve the most vulnerable, knowledge, compassion, support, resources, patience and grace. But the most important way that World Relief empowers is by its confidence that the Spirit of the Living God is present and active in history and has called the Church to participate in God’s reconciling and redemptive mission in the world by caring for and serving the most vulnerable.

Paul says, "It is the parts of the body which we consider least dignified, that we surround with the greatest dignity" (1 Corinthians 12:23). The most honored parts of the body are not the head or the hands, which lead and control.  The most important parts are the least respectable parts.  World Relief truly believes in the mystery of the church, that the people of God can actually embody the living Christ in the world.  When we surround the strangers among us, the most vulnerable, the alien, the orphan and the widow with great dignity, respect and love, then we place Christ at the true center of our worship.  This confidence is the spirit of being empowered to serve the most vulnerable. 

Caren is a student at Vanderbilt University Divinity School currently interning with World Relief Nashville for the 2011-2012 academic year.

The Need to Read...and Pray!

German theologian Karl Barth is credited with saying that Christians should read the Bible in one hand and the newspaper in the other. In a 1963 interview with Time magazine during the cold war, Barth said, "News media is important. I always pray for the poor, the sick, journalists, authorities of the state and the church.  However, as a theologian, I should never be formed by the world around me - neither East nor West. I should make my vocation to show both East and West that we can live without a clash. Where the peace of God is proclaimed, peace on earth is implicit."

My work at World Relief Nashville has changed the way I read news media of today, internet and online news services.  As I meet people from Burma, Nepal, Eritrea, and Somalia, I am eager to learn about the countries from which they come. Recalling this quote of Barth's, I decided that each week of my internship, I will read and pray about the news of the UN refugee agency. Today there was a story about the deteriorating humanitarian situation in Somalia and how it has forced almost 320,000 Somalis to flee their country so far this year. While the majority of Somalis seek refuge in neighboring Kenya and Ethiopia, many Somalis head northwards to embark on a dangerous sea journey across the Gulf of Aden to Yemen. This year 20,000 Somalis have arrived in Yemen's reception centres bringing with them stories of drought, famine, war and slavery that caused them to flee Somalia.

And so I pray this news with this prayer,

O glorious and blessed God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, today I pray for Somalis who have been uprooted from their homes. I pray for all those who must flee for their lives, who leave their land and culture often to live apart from their families.  I mourn their losses of dignity, community, resources and employment. I especially ask that you be with the women and children who are the majority of those displaced. Please be with those women who have been assaulted and brutalized on their journey and those who have lost children to sickness and hunger.  I pray for the Somalis who even though they survive the journey to Kenya, Ethiopa, and Yemen, their lives are scarred by danger, war, exploitation, drought, famine and desperate poverty.  God of mercy and compassion, you promise to meet us on the way and abide with us always. Help World Relief to stand with the most vulnerable, our sisters and brothers who simply desire a chance to survive and prosper in their home countries.  When there is no such chance or when it is painfully slow in coming, help us inspire and guide your church to act with compassion, care and commitment so as to be the tent in which all your children can be restored to your loving presence and safe shelter.  Amen.

Caren is a student at Vanderbilt University Divinity School currently interning with World Relief Nashville for the 2011-2012 academic year.

Motivated by Love

I have heard it said that theology is worrying about what God is worrying about when God wakes up in the morning.  A simple question in Exodus always serves to remind me what God worries about: "This cloak of [your neighbor's] is the only covering he has for his body. What else has he to sleep in? If your neighbor cries out to me, I will hear  him; for I am compassionate.” (Exodus 22: 26-27)

As a Christian, I must be worried about my neighbors, where they will sleep, how they will cover themselves, and from where they will receive their daily bread and drink.  I am called to be compassionate as God is compassionate. To be compassionate means to “feel with” God and neighbor. As a Christian, I have been taught and believe that acceptance of God’s merciful love requires that I commit myself to others.  Acceptance of the gift of life from God motivates me to work for justice, peace, happiness and life for all God’s children. This was a major factor in my decision to intern this year at World Relief.  It is part of my personal commitment to others, to my neighbors, born out of the gracious gift of God’s love for the world.

In my work at World Relief teaching English, I find myself “feeling with” the English students what it must be like to come to a new country, learn a foreign language as an adult, be immersed in a strange culture, to weep for family members left behind, to worry about where they will sleep and what they will eat.  I have discovered that in this “feeling with” my neighbors, especially as it spills over into my prayer life, I am lead to a new and deeper encounter with God.  Being united to my neighbors in their joys and sufferings, in the challenges of a new life in a strange land creates anew in me a “thirst and hunger” for God.

I can also see now that it wasn’t only my theology--my way of believing and thinking about God--nor was it merely human compassion that empowered me to start and to hopefully one day complete this journey. All along the way God has been, is and will be with me and also with my neighbors, the newly-arrived individuals to this country. God is guiding all of us, leading us toward compassionate encounters with one another that in turn serve to lead us anew to God, the source and the summit of our journey.  Praise be to God.

Caren is a student at Vanderbilt University Divinity School currently interning with World Relief Nashville for the 2011-2012 academic year.

True Hospitality

“Great care and concern are to be shown in receiving poor people and pilgrims, because in them more particularly Christ is received.”

- Joan Chittister, The Rule of Benedict:  A Spirituality for the 21^st Century

Hospitality is one of the highest forms of devotion.  Receiving poor people and pilgrims with great care and concern is an essential part of Christian worship.  As such, hospitality must be total and complete. It is more than providing food and shelter; it is recognizing another as family, as brother and sister in Christ.  In all humility, we are to convey with our whole selves, “You are welcome here. Please come in.  You are the Christ for us in this moment.”

On Friday, I went to check on some Bhutanese-Nepali friends who arrived a few weeks ago from Nepal. When they opened the door for me, they folded their hands, bowed their heads and greeted me by saying, “Namaste.” Chittester says that in India, “Namaste means I honor the place in you where the entire universe resides; I honor the place in you of love, of light, of truth, of peace.  I honor the place within you where if you are in that place in you and I am in that place in me, we are as one.”

In their humble home, I received the gifts of hospitality, presence and service. They made a space for me to sit on the sofa and gave me a cold drink.  A family member walked next door to find a neighbor to interpret so they could tell me about their first few weeks in Nashville. One of the children brought a puzzle over to where I was sitting and invited me to put it together with her. They taught me how to say some words in Nepalese, and we all laughed together as I tried to remember and pronounce them correctly.

I learned a couple of things that day about hospitality. One is that in welcoming and receiving Christ in the poor and the pilgrims, I am also welcomed and received as Christ by them. True Christian hospitality is more than simply receiving the gift of Christ in the poor; it is also a return of the gift.  It is to recognize and honor the love, light, truth and peace of the Divine in one another.

The other thing I learned about hospitality from my Bhutanese-Nepali friends is that it isn’t so much what one does for others as it is the way in which one does it. One can merely give another food and drink or one can give it in the spirit of fellowship and communion.  One can simply offer a guest the comforts of the house or one can take the time to share life’s joys with them. Hospitality is not simply receiving the stranger; it is welcoming a brother or sister home.

Caren is a student at Vanderbilt University Divinity School currently interning with World Relief Nashville for the 2011-2012 academic year.

The Road Less Traveled

There are approximately 16 million refugees on planet Earth today.  (There are an additional 26 million persons who are internally displaced, meaning they have not crossed a national border but are in hiding within their own country.) Approximately 77,000 refugees will be resettled in the United States this year, and approximately 450 of these persons will be resettled by World Relief Nashville this Fiscal Year. 

Last week, I greeted a family upon their arrival to America . This family escaped from Bhutan crossing over the border into Nepal to a refugee camp over twenty years ago.  They lived in the camp in Nepal in huts made of bamboo for eighteen years, which is approximately the average length of stay in a refugee camp.

Eventually, after years of waiting, after having their stories verified, their credentials checked and their health and employment status deemed acceptable, they boarded a plane in Katmandu bound for Delhi.  In Delhi, they had a 9 hour layover in a very crowded and chaotic airport.  From Delhi, they flew to Brussels where they changed planes again for their flight to New York. In New York, they changed planes for the 4^th time and flew to Chicago.  In Chicago, they boarded their final plane for Nashville.  When they arrived here, they were joyful and elated but exhausted, overwhelmed and hungry. Yet, even as their journey out of Nepal was ending, they would soon begin again a new journey, orientation and adjustment to life in the United States.

--Caren Teichmann

Caren is a student at Vanderbilt University Divinity School currently interning with World Relief Nashville for the 2011-2012 academic year.

The Church Next Door

The apartment across the hall had about 50 pairs of shoes outside the door.  I asked a gentleman who was standing nearby how many people lived there.  He shook his head and said, "No, only one family. These (pointing at the shoes) are here for devotion."

He opened the door and I looked inside to see an apartment full of Bhutanese refugees praying.  He invited me in and I sat down in an open chair by the door. After the prayer, the man beside me began playing the guitar and everyone started singing in Nepalese and clapping and smiling. 

More and more people came into the apartment and miraculously an opening on the floor, or on the sofa, or on the table or even under the table would appear and the newcomer would sit down and begin to sing and clap.  Not one person walked past me without extending their hand and smiling warmly.  The second song they sang (I recognized the melody) was "Seek Ye First." I sang along in English because no one could hear me anyway,

Seek ye first the kingdom of God
And His righteousness
And all these things shall be added unto you
Allelu, alleluia

Ask and it shall be given unto you
Seek and ye shall find
Knock and the door shall be opened unto you
Allelu, alleluia

They really sang out on the Alleluias. I was overcome with emotion and started to cry. I was so embarrassed but they just kept smiling and nodding their heads in agreement, or sympathy, or solidarity with me. I felt like they understood my tears. Then suddenly, this hits me, it was almost like I heard a voice, my own voice, say, "Oh, this is what church is."

--Caren Teichmann

Caren is a student at Vanderbilt University Divinity School currently interning with World Relief Nashville for the 2011-2012 academic year.

Looking to the future...

Throughout this summer, the word "refugee" has slowly lost its shock value for me. After hundreds of conversations about everything from music to tattoos to relationships, people are people--nothing more--with the good, the bad, and the unique parts of their personalities and experiences all rolled up into individual human beings.

Yet because of this, it can be so easy to forget what survivors these men and women truly are, and how drastically their lives have changed. 

I cannot count how many times I have heard the phrase "before, my life meant nothing." The man from Baghdad, who had suffered through so much war and pain and loss, that every time he received a death threat there was a sense of release--as if perhaps today would be the day that all of this would finally end. The woman from Burma, who lost all but two of her seventeen children to starvation, war, and ethnic cleansing, and who somehow managed to raise and protect those final two with a smile on her face and light in her eyes. The man from Afghanistan, who now supports a wife, two children, brother, and mother in his home country, after his father was killed and his brother saw an explosion that decapitated and mutilated so many civilians that he lost his faculty of speech and reasoning. The couple from Ethiopia that trekked for months to find safety, watching their friends fall away as they walked, only to discover that in each new destination there was less promise than in the last.

With death and loss so constantly at one's doorstep, I cannot even imagine how one would begin to view life. Survival is instinctive, but without hope it can appear impossible. Yet what is so inspirational is that these men, women, and children have not only survived, travelled halfway across the world, and begun a completely new life, but they are looking towards the future. Towards children and families they thought they would never have. Toward education and employment, festivals and the Fourth of July. They are living their lives, giving to others, and making their new home a bit more beautiful, interesting, and full of life.

-- Elizabeth

Just two weeks more

My heart stands in a state of denial. I cannot believe that in a matter of two mere weeks I will no longer be living here with all of my dear friends--the refugees--people who have become my family over the course of the past few months. Whenever the subject of my departure arises in a conversation I send forth the plea that we do not discuss it for it is too painful for my little soul to ruminate upon at this moment. I simply want to enjoy the next few weeks without the bitter tinge of the reality that awaits me on August 15^th when I will drive my car out over the bothersome apartment speed bumps for the last time.

Last night I took a group of boys to play put-put golf. Thirty-six holes later we had catalogued countless laughs, a few frustrated squeals and a constant banter of jokes. I couldn’t wipe the smile the grin off my face as we drove home with the warm summer wind streaming through the open skylight and windows, with the radio on and unabashedly loud slurping noises coming from the seats around me as we all struggled to consume our melting ice cream cones before they succumbed to the fatal power of the heat. My four friends piled out of the car tangled amidst their ice cream and a profuse outpouring of thanks. As I slipped my key in the lock and they walked away into the darkness, I saw them turn around as one of them yelled, “Thank you so so much, Jenna! You are just the best friend we could have!” The others chorused their agreement and then they continued to disappear into the humid night. My heart was so touched and tears still spring to my eyes at the recollection. This summer has taught me so many beautiful things that I don’t think I have yet fully been able to process in my mind, much less possess the ability to compose in narrative form. Regardless, I know that I will view life differently from here on. These people have revealed to me a beauty of living that I hope to forever remember and carry within my soul. 

--Jenna

Making things happen (it's all in the details!)

Life has been a little hectic this week. The health department is putting on a free mobile dental clinic at the apartments for all children (refugees and non-refugees) under the age of 16. Rounding up all of the children and getting parental consent forms signed for each one has by no means been a project that one could consider a small undertaking. On Monday, I knocked on every apartment door and in many cases mimed the action of a dental cleaning procedure for the family in order to convey the message of the services we were offering. Some of the kids were so excited to get their teeth cleaned and receive a sticker that it was a very rewarding day of work. The first two days of the clinic each child saw the dentist for a few brief minutes while she analyzed what exactly each individual would need done on their teeth and from there we scheduled appointments for them that will occur over the course of the next two weeks.

When one stops to consider all the services that these people are offered upon their arrival to the United States it is truly remarkable. All of the doctor appointments, dental clinics, driving services and more are quite detailed operations that require not only the skill of the individual carrying out the task, but also the dedicated logistical work of many individuals behind the scenes.

This summer has afforded me a front row view of how detail oriented one must be when working with individuals from another culture--no element of planning can be overlooked.

-- Jenna

A Glimpse of Heaven

Perhaps one of my favorite parts of this internship is watching the melding of different groups at the the apartments. As I watch Nepali, Eritrean and Mexican children playing together on our living room floor, I ruminate on how this is probably one of the closest glimpses of heaven that I may be afforded here on Earth. To see people of literally “every tribe and nation” laughing together is such a beautiful experience.

Scripture also talks about the Wedding Supper of the Lamb in Revelation 19:9a: "Blessed are those who are invited to the wedding supper of the Lamb!” I am certain there is going to be delicious food from all of these countries at that supper--maybe even some Sudanese goat stomach in the brownish-orange sauce like I ate last week. (If you could have seen the pride with which a Sudanese boy told me that his mom had prepared that dish, I think you would ask Jesus Himself to taste-test it just to watch the proud smile spread across the child’s face as Jesus told Him it was delicious and worthy of the special occasion.)

 --Jenna

In Our Midst

I have been surprised during my time here in Nashville how few locals seem to know of the vast refugee population living within the city. Unless one intentionally seeks out these newly arrived individuals, they remain off the radar of most people. Unbeknownst to most, we are more connected to the refugees than we realize--perhaps they pack the chicken you buy at the supermarket, perhaps they clean your hotel room or prepare the room a loved one uses in the hospital. The question is whether or not we stop to see them, to acknowledge their presence around us. Many people fear that if they approach people of a unique background that they will be greeted with reproach or annoyance, when, in my experience, the response is almost always a smile--whether an all out beaming glow or a timid grin.

The other day I was talking with a gentleman from the Middle East who studied here in the U.S. He remarked about how the U.S. is so remarkable because it is virtually one of the only places where within one city you can interact with people from across the globe. He commented on the rich cultural spectrum within most major American cities and how fortunate we are to have such a plethora of experience and worldviews available on a daily basis. While I agree that this is indeed a beautiful opportunity, I find that most often we self-segregate and limit our “cultural experience” with our neighbors to experimenting with ethnic cuisine at a restaurant on the weekends. What would happen if we would truly reach out across linguistic bounds and cultural differences to find the commonality that lies within the souls of all people? If I could encourage people in one way, it would be to urge them to seek to get involved in the lives of people who see the world differently than themselves. It will grow your worldview, the richness of your life and the veracity of your faith. Analyzing your beliefs and lifestyle through the eyes of someone who is unaccustomed to the social norms we grow up with  causes us to reflect more deeply on our actions, words and beliefs. Living with the refugees I have not solely learned about other cultures and countries, I have learned more of myself and who I want to be as well. --Jenna

Caring Communities

“They are going to kill me!” said a13-year-old Ethiopian refugee after seeing kids shoot 4th of July fireworks all around him. “No, no one is going to kill you because I am here,” responded his 15-year-old Sudanese friend. Both of these kids have gone through hard situations in their home country. They have both experienced the need to look out for themselves or save their own lives, but yet they manage to not fall into selfishness or deep individuality. This sense of caring for others felt by the Sudanese young boy is something every person on earth should have.

Many times we get caught up in individuality and selfishness, even when serving the needy, because we use everything we accomplish as a tool for self-praise. Realizing that nothing we have or do comes from our own strengths can help us have a humble spirit, and at the same time, look up and see God’s many blessings. Hanging out and working with refugees everyday has highlighted this life lesson. Seeing kids from different nationalities care for each other, professionals with university degrees happily accept a housekeeping job, and even a Buddhist monk take off his robe in order to adapt to American society, are examples of situations that have humbled me and made me realize of my own egocentricity.  These refugees are my teachers. I am not here just to serve them or look after them; they also turn around and serve me in the process.

--Lissete

Job Readiness

Photo by Intern Mathison Ingham

This summer World Relief is offering job readiness classes to clients. These classes provide opportunities to practice interviewing for jobs and give information about the American workplace environment and employer expectations.



God's Glitter

Evening at our apartment complex is an exciting experience. When we first moved in, the fast-paced games of soccer and animated conversations occurring as the sun set seemed somewhat foreign and intimidating. But we have begun to appreciate this as one of the most vibrant times of day, as the heat wanes and those who work regular hours come out to chat. The constant game of soccer that occurs nightly on the old tennis courts, ending promptly at nine, becomes a miniature global village, where Iraqi, Somali, Bhutanese, and Mexican boys and men unite to challenge their athletic skills. The younger boys look on, laughing at their older brothers' stumbles and cheering on their successes. The jungle gym swarms with children from ages two to twelve, the younger ones guarded vigilently by their mothers, the older ones inventing games for their younger siblings to play in. The intern apartment provides yet another gathering place, where games of checkers provide a setting for all types of conversation and revelation.

As the sun sets, summer's fireflies become a prime source of entertainment, with girls and boys chasing and jumping and running to catch one of the mysterious little creatures. "They're like God's glitter," I couldn't help remarking to our sweaty and smiling group. One little girl, whose religion and ethnicity I don't know, said in a solemn little voice, "I know God-- he created the bugs!" Her words, accompanied by the chatter of a dozen different languages surrounding us, provided a momentary taste of the understanding that must permeate a heaven populated by people from literally all over the globe. --Elizabeth

Life lessons: Welcoming the Stranger

Little time living among the refugees is required to discover that soccer is a sacred nightly ritual for the majority of the people living there--for the teenagers who play as well as for the adults who observe and the small children who congregate to jump rope and squirm beside the field until they too are old enough to partake in the evening’s competition. The younger boys play until about 8 o’clock when the older ones begin to show up and gradually phase out those smaller than themselves. A cement wall serves as a perch from which I may observe the game and record vocabulary words from about six different languages in my journal. Each child seems determined that I finish this summer proficient in their native tongue, whether that be Dinka, Arabic, Kurdish, Nepalese, Burmese, Tigrinya… Such fun! Checkers has also quickly become a competitive favorite in our home. I seem to now have a running tournament going with a boy from Eritrea and another from Sudan...

We have been so wholeheartedly welcomed into the refugees' hearts and homes that I feel as though I am a long-standing resident here and not someone who arrived a mere three weeks ago. This is a lesson I hope to carry with me when I leave this internship: how to welcome the stranger and give them a home regardless of the community I find myself in, who they are or where they are headed. In the meantime, I am looking forward to cheering on many soccer games and hopefully winning many checkers games that are to come :)

--Jenna

World Refugee Week Block Party

Photos by Intern Mathison Ingham

Community, Equality & Soccer

Community: a word that means so much more than just a group of people living together in one place. In the case of the apartment complex where we live that houses various groups of totally different people, the feeling of community is present. To be a community, the people do not necessarily have to share the same values, culture or practices. Looking at the apartment’s play area and seeing about 15 different nationalities gathered together is proof of the existence of a very diverse community. Sudanese, Somalis, Mexicans, Caucasian native-born US citizens, African-Americans, Nepalese, Bhutanese, Burmese, Iraqi, Kurdish, Syrian are among the groups that make up this community. Some are Christian, some Hindu or animistic. Some are refugees; some are immigrants or US citizens. They each hold their own language and social values, but regardless of this, just about every night, they all come together to enjoy a time of fun at the soccer field.

This reminds me of the fact that we were created in the image of God. Born to be social creatures and to feel the need to have leisure time. Even though there might be resentment, jealousy or even hatred between the different nationalities when fellowship happens, these feelings fade. Seeing all these people peacefully united by the most popular sport in the world was one of the things that I enjoyed the most this week. It gave me hope. Hope of a better future, where violence and war between ethnicities could be resolved. If only they could understand that God made every person on earth equal according to His image, with the same needs, such as the need for fellowship and fun. That is why a big part of my mission this summer is to share about God’s endless love for all his sons and daughters. --Lissete

Starting over in America

At the beginning of our time at World Relief, as the new interns, we had the opportunity to go through "Walk in my Shoes," a three-day experience that simulated the process that refugees go through upon arriving to America...[F]aced with tasks that were both unfamiliar and daunting, it wasn’t long before we started complaining about the heat, the unfamiliar foods, and the stress of not knowing what we might be doing next. Yet we still knew that nothing truly bad was going to happen and that [in the] worst possible scenario we could walk to a gas station and find a familiar language and culture.

But for refugees, this is not the case. [After coming to America,] doctors become cabbies, teachers become farmers, and businesspeople become factory workers. [Sometimes] newlyweds lose relatives, parents must leave children, and thoughts are trapped without language to share them. Professional recognition, communicative ability, family ties, and social connectedness are left in the country of origin. Yet despite all this, among the refugees I’ve met, there is such an abundance of humility and hope. More than once, I’ve asked how someone liked his hospital cleaning or her tomato-picking job and heard that even though they might not love it, “America is good.” Complaints are so far and few between, it can be easy to forget the huge barriers that must be crossed to integrate into a new culture, as they are overshadowed by the truly outstanding kindness, ingenuity, and humility that these men and women exhibit every single day. --Elizabeth

Race Day Snapshots

Photos by Intern Mathison Ingham

Learning to be generous

The air hung thick inside the little apartment as we all gathered inside--seven Americans and a vacillating number of Burmese women and children who scurried about the apartment in a whirling haste. As we slid off our shoes, smiling uplifted faces greeted our own and beckoned us to sit upon the thatched mat rolled across the living room floor. Our hosts graciously laid before us their favorite holiday meal: noodles covered with a spice-laden, quail egg soup and topped with garlic sauce, green onions and cilantro, soy sauce, fried corn cakes and an extremely spicy ground dried pepper. I have been completely humbled by the lavish generosity of these people we have come to call friends. When we are invited to dine in their homes, they insist upon serving us and assure that they will eat later. I wonder if there truly is food, at least of the same kind and quality, “for later”… Kids scurry to hand out water bottles to all of us interns sitting cross-legged on the floor and to find fans with which to laboriously cool us as we enjoy the meal. As we leave the apartment, a little girl runs up and hands us her last piece of gum and apologizes that she doesn’t have one for each of us.

The fact that it is not merely the adults, but also the children who serve so wholeheartedly has caused me to ponder. How is it that those who have so little can be delighted to give away what they have? They spend hours preparing a meal so expensive and labor-intensive that it is normally only eaten for special celebrations-all for people who they scarcely know. What they may not realize, is that what touches my heart at a level much deeper than the delicious feast they prepare, are the dancing sparkles that light their eyes and the smile-lines that deepen on their faces as we mime conversations. These people truly possess servant’s hearts. They give, not out of duty or obligation, but a true desire to bless others. It is as though they possess a deeper understanding of what it truly is to live than I. Perhaps after fleeing danger and spending years in refugee camps, they have come to know a deeper truth of life than I in my security can grasp. Living amongst these families has caused me to ruminate on what it truly means to have a generous spirit. I find myself wanting to become a person who gladly shares my blessings, no matter how great or small, with those around me, regardless of how well I know them or whether or not they actually even dire need what I am able to offer. When one accepts an internship to work with refugees, she naturally assumes that she will be working to serve these newly arrived individuals, but already I have encountered that the opposite also occurs: the refugees are helping me, also a newly arrived individual to Nashville, to feel as though I have a community and a home here. As our opposite worlds meld on this common ground, we witness the truth that no matter what the culture, language past, that the human spirit supersedes them all. --Jenna

Walk across the street, walk across the globe

We left the apartment of the family of our Nepali neighbors. They live across the parking lot from our identical building; both resting atop a hill in southern Nashville where lush trees flourish on the roadsides and temperatures easily peek 100 degrees Fahrenheit on a given day. The apartment complex in which we live is home to many refugees and immigrants to the area. Not five minutes after returning to our little abode a knock sounded at the door. Upon answering, we saw the smiling face of the same Nepali woman and daughter whose home we had just left. They held out a gift bag with two plump mangos wrapped in paper towel resting at the bottom. We welcomed them inside and began the pantomime regime we have discovered necessary to communicate across the linguistic barriers that seek to separate us. Since arriving a little over a week ago I have learned some Nepali words: dhanybhad= thank you, kasto cha?= how are you?, meru nam Jenna ho= my name is Jenna. Smiles spread across their faces as we attempt to imitate the sounds they make.

Living here amongst these people one feels as though she were in another country all together. Emerging from my apartment I see men and women squatting and lounging in front of their homes; many with little caps resting atop their heads chattering away in a tongue completely foreign to my ear. Many of those who live around us are families who have arrived to Nashville person by person- sometimes over the course of many years. Yesterday, I met a woman from Myanmar/Burma who finally arrived last week to join her husband after three years of living an ocean apart. She laughingly explained her surprise to find her husband quite round and plump after living here for an extended amount of time. Many of our neighbors and friends wait in anticipation as aunts and uncles, brothers and sisters prepare to join them after finally being approved for the long journey and process to becoming members of a new country.

There are three of us World Relief Nashville interns who are going to be doing the same immersion program this summer: Elizabeth, Lissete and myself (Jenna). We will be living in an apartment complex where many of the refugees live, as I mentioned earlier, and working to establish relationships with them so we can learn from each other. We have many objectives for the summer but they are basically broken down into three categories: community, development and ministry...Refugee resettlement is such a multi-faceted process that I am excited to more fully understand all the details of how an individual makes the transition of living in one country to another, one culture to another, in situations such as those facing the people we work with. --Jenna

Getting ready for the Run with the Nations 5K

Interns preparing posters for the Run with the Nations 5K Walk/Run for Saturday, June 18th.

Not just clients, but neighbors

The first week of work at the World Relief office consisted of diving straight into training for community, ministry and development initiatives and then meeting the refugees. Settling down in the apartment complex that many of the refugees call their new home gives it a whole new twist to the experience. The refugees are not only our clients; they are our neighbors, friends, and part of our new community. Our relationship with the refugees has consisted of complete reciprocity. We teach them English, they teach us Burmese and Nepali, we visit them or invite them over for dinner, and they invite us to their house and fill us with presents. Everyday someone new comes and fills us with their generosity- they give us things ranging from fruits, vegetables and Fanta to Indian cakes and Burmese scarves. We cannot believe the kindness and love these people have for us, and we have not even helped them out yet! God shows his love and mercy for us through people like them. I am excited for what is yet to come. --Lissete

Crayons and Coloring Pages Create Opportunity for Friendship

Yesterday evening we got a knock at our door and it was our little Burmese friend M. standing there with a big smile. We asked her to come in and her friend E. from China tagged along behind. We sat and visited for a while and then we asked if they wanted to color. For the next two hours the little girls sat on our floor coloring in our Minnie Mouse coloring book as we chattered about their lives, etc. About an hour after the first two arrived another knock sounded at the door and a 13-year-old girl from Thailand timidly came in. She said she heard that this was the place to come if you wanted to color. She couldn’t stay at that moment, but I think she will probably stop by another time… Coloring has proven to be a very effective bonding tool with both the kids and adults alike. --Jenna

Intern Orientation: UNHCR Activity

Photo by Intern Mathison Ingham

Interns participate in an activity designed to simulate the difficult decision-making process of the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR). The UNHCR decides which refugees will be referred for resettlement and who must stay behind. (Less than one per cent of refugees get the opportunity to resettle to third countries.)

Welcome to Nashville

Minglaba. Ahlan. Namaste [Welcome!]—A fifteen minutes drive from Vanderbilt University exists a universe that normally can only be experienced by a flight halfway across the world. Not too far south of K&S World Market on Nolensville Pike live hundreds of men, women, and children who have experienced unspeakable hardships yet have been given the opportunity to begin again in the Nashville area through their international designation as “refugees.”

Yet the generosity and laughter that literally seeps through the walls here seem all the more genuine when it is not undergirded by an ideal past, easy present, or a surfeit of material possessions. The community within cultures is astounding; certain doorsteps become gathering places for women and children socializing during the daytime, and men coming from, or going to, work at night. Yet despite this tight-knit sense of community, the refugees have welcomed us with open arms—literally showering us with gifts at all hours of the day. At first, we felt guilty, not wanting them to use their limited resources to provide us with delicacies. But as we gingerly began to give back—a meal here, a bag of fruit there—we realized what they must have understood long ago, that living with open hands and hearts creates a society where no one is truly desolate or alone.

I came here this summer thinking I would learn to give more thoroughly in one area of my life. Yet what I have learned over this past week is that giving cannot be a one-sided endeavor, and a truly generous life encompasses work as well as home.

--Elizabeth