Have you ever had circumstances that line up so perfectly that you can‘t chalk it up to circumstance or chance? I think my meeting the Aguz Alamazai family from Afganistan was one of those situations. Here‘s what happened.
In August I got a text from a friend who brought my attention to the evacuation of Afgans as the Taliban was taking over the country. The conveyed information, or at least the way I interpreted it, was not encouraging of the then political powers and their choices to withdraw from Afganistan. I can remember thinking that I know virtually nothing of the situation and have been very disengaged from the military and their actions and hence can‘t make a statement regarding the situation. I did note that I felt rather helpless for the families of Afgans that were in the midst of chaos. I think I even prayed if there was someway I could participate, please make it known.
The plight of Afgans didn‘t leave my thoughts quickly though and I ruminated on the situation for weeks, if not months. I was down in Costa Rica in the beginning of September having 5 days of solitude when I started researching how we could help with the Afgans. World Relief popped up in my mind and soon thereafter on my screen. They were looking for donations of new items to furnish housing for families who were coming from Afganistan. Perfect. I sent a text to my small group that Balin and I meet with regularly asking them if they‘d like to help and off we went.
When I got home in mid-September I set out to shop for 2 apartments, having set up many apartments in the past, this was pretty straightforward. I‘d forgotten how much stuff you “need” for living comfortable in America. It’s an impressive amount. After purchasing just the bedrooms and bathrooms I was exhausted. My friend Traci put her hand to the kitchen and was very effective. Stephanie brought over containers for all the items so we could transport them easily - it was a three family job - both time wise and financially. It took probably 3-4 weeks to gather the items and finally get them downtown to drop off at the World Relief office. Traci and I carted our wares into the storage area and learned that Spokane alone was expecting 500 families from Afganistan. That’s a lot of people and it was a pretty small storage space with not enough items.
Having dropped off the items I was feeling pretty good. Good deed done. I moved on with my life and didn’t think twice about doing more.
A month or so later, we went down to see my mom for Thanksgiving. We were at the airport on our way home hanging out around our gate waiting for our plane. At the gate was a rumpled looking family that was making a bunch of noise. I thought to myself, “Sheesh - they seriously look like Gypsies from Romania”, all the while hoping they would keep their kids quiet as they were fighting and crying.
Then it struck me - “These people are the refugees coming from Afganistan - and i bet they’re going to Spokane through World Relief”. So I watched. Other people were watching too. No one got too close and you could tell everyone was a little irritated with the misfit family. They were kind of a mess to be honest.
As I watched, our plane got delayed by an hour and I thought these poor people couldn’t hold it together much longer as it was already way past 8pm. So I stepped in. I got out my phone, looked up the language they speak in Afganistan - which is Pashto - went on my translator app and typed out a message to the dad: “Are you coming from Afganistan to Spokane?” He was he said in broken English (even something as simple as a yes when you don’t know the language and are tired can be difficult to get out) and showed me his transfer badge that was hanging on a laniard around his neck. I introduced myself and then started to ask him a couple of questions, in Pashto, to let him know I was friendly and there to help. The gate agent came up to the family intending to tell the family the plane was late and that they needed to wait there, so I told her I would make sure they got on the plane and where they needed to go. She looked at me smiled and said “Thank you.”
After a few minutes of talking with the dad, Peer, we exchanged What’s App numbers. I then sat down and started showing the kids some photos of Piper, of Spokane and some of the things they might see while they’re here. They all quieted as they crept closer to look at my phone. Twenty or thirty minutes passed and I heard the call for our flight to finally start boarding. I translated to Peer that it was time to go and helped him gather his 6 children under 9, his wife and their belongings, so we could get on the airplane. I walked them over to the boarding gate, handed the agent their tickets and was able to get them on board before the other passengers. As we were walking down the plank, the 4 year old (Adela) grabbed my hand and held it tightly as we walked down towards the plane. My heart just about burst.
When the plane landed it was well after 11pm and we all started to disembarque. As I came up to where Peer’s family was, Adela was screaming, still stuck in her seat as her parents were walking away with the other children. I quickly unbuckled her and put her in my arms and she snuggled in. I got the privilege of walking their family through the airport to the baggage claim where they were met by Saw, a World Relief worker. I touched base with him, asked a few questions, gave everyone hugs and went home.
During this whole time I thought once or twice of my family, but I knew that they were fine. Apparently Balin stood on the sidelines and was watching me engage with the family the whole time, knowing that it was filling my cup. The kids, I think they just thought I’m a little crazy - which is true.
Having lived overseas in Germany for a year as a 21 year old, I remembered the feelings of anxiety not knowing what was before me. Landing in Germany I was exhausted, confused, overwhelmed with my luggage and bicycle, and needed to get to the town I was going to live in 3 hours away. I ended up spending the night in a park after I ditched my belongings in a bush, because no one would help me out and give me a hotel room. A hotel room I could have paid for but either there was no vacancy or they didn’t want me in particular. It’s a longer story, for another day, but it taught me deeply to have compassion for people in difficult circumstances.
Can you imagine living in a worn torn country (Peer later told me he has three bullet wounds from the Taliban shooting him on his way home), with 6 children - 5 of them girls. Let’s sit on that for a moment.
Then your country is taken over by the enemy and you and your family have to flee. You are able to arrange in the chaos of the occupying forces departure, tickets for your family on a cargo plane. (Peer said there were no seats, they were sitting on the floor of the cargo hull.) You then arrive in Dubai and wait there for a month until you have clearance to go to America. I can’t even imagine entertaining 6 children during that time in a refugee camp. Then you’re flown to a military base in Virginia where further processing and paperwork take place as well as all immunizations, health checks etc. Finally 3 months later you’re flown to a small city in the corner of Washington to make your home. You literally have the clothes on your backs, which are threadbare and have holes, and you, the father speak the language about as well as a 2 year old. AND you have a wife and 6 children. Humbling and hopeful.
Your host country has given you approximately 3-6 months of services but then you’re expected to get a job, put your kids in school and live the American Dream.
In the midst of it all, this family is so thankful, joyful and working through the difficulties. It’s really hard. I can’t help but think that their proverbially “bootstraps” are going to be difficult to grab onto.
Here are my friends:
 |
| He’s 2 and clearly the one to whom all affection is given. When we have tea or food at Peer’s house, Mohammed is the only one at the table with Peer and ourselves. |
 |
| The 4 year old who captured my heart. |
 |
| Abeda- she’s 5 I think and kind of quiet and shy. |
 |
| Amela is the “sister large and in charge”. She is working on her English and s’not afraid to use it. |
 |
| Akela is the second oldest and is very helpful. When I asked her what she would like , she asked (in universal sign language) for a rolling pin so she could make bread/naan. |
 |
| This is momma. She’s 28 years old and so kind. She’s often in the kitchen making tea or food when I come over, but is quick to take a minute to sit down and chat. (Peer translates) There are more stories I could tell and perhaps in a future post I will as their stories and our story is worthy of sharing. I will say that I don’t believe in coincidences. I honestly believe that this was orchestrated and I can’t wait to see how the story continues. |
Comments