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