I hadn’t seen “my” refugee from Bhutan for three weeks due to what was, at best, a series of miscommunications in her family. To be honest, these most recent of many flakeages had finally started to exasperate me. It’s a half-hour drive to get there, and I build my schedule around that weekly time slot. Showing up to find no one at home gets old fast. So after this last episode, I’d figured my teaching ESL job was finished.
But I started to realize that I really missed MM, my tutee. So when she called yesterday to ask where I’d been the last two weeks, my little heart warmed to hear her voice, despite the accusational implications of her query. Chalk it up to cross-cultural differences. She read to me from a script prepared by her daughter-in-law, who speaks a little more English than than she: Geenie, when you come my house? Me e-school go, talk teacher. Okay-bye.
So I agreed to come by today. About an hour-and-a-half before I was due to arrive, and then an hour before, she called to ask where I was. Cross-cultural challenges can warp traits like patience, kindness and compassion.
But when I arrived, I instantly reverted to my better self. MM was upset — devastated, in fact — because she’d just learned she’d been kicked out of her language classes on account of her being unable to keep up with the others. It was heartbreaking to see a layer of hopelessness start to settle over her.
I drove her to her school in downtown Oakland, where we happened upon the lead teacher. The scoop: Yes, she’s at the absolute bottom of her class, and they’d told her that. I couldn’t believe it. They wanted to bump her from 20 hours of class a week to three. Luckily the teacher-woman was receptive and had already decided to let MM back into the class. I pointed out how crushed MM had been at the news, and how it would be dreadful to interfere in the learning of someone so highly motivated. And I asked, I’m not going to tell her this happened because she’s a ‘bad student.’ How should I explain it? But the woman had no suggestions.
Anyway, you should’ve seen MM’s face illuminate when she learned she could return to class. She’s so dedicated, and this class is the only structure and social contact she has in this strange new country. If she doesn’t mind being lost in the subject matter, how could a person deprive her of these opportunities? She may not be learning much English, but she’s benefiting in many other ways.
Anyhow, it was a wonderful feeling to be able to help MM. I felt a little guilty, though, because she was so thrilled and thanking me so much, when I really didn’t do anything; it was the lead teacher who rectified the matter.
After we left we stopped into Barnes & Noble where I looked at some ESL books and then suggested we look at the children’s books. We go old woman’s books, she countered.
Back at her house she fed me roti (actually, it was just a tortilla) with tomato achar and my usual half-a-china-teacup of Nepali milk tea. I had a long conversation with her delightful and very astute son, Binod, who asked me why Americans pay so little attention to any country but their own, and why American children move away from their families as soon as possible. He told me he’d accidentally joined match.com when a friend had told him its purpose is to help you find people who look like (that is, “match”) you. When he started getting e-mails from women, he realized he’d been duped.
He wanted to know why MM had been moved out of her class. They thought the afternoon class would be a better fit for her, but they said it’s okay if she comes back to her old class, I explained. All completely true. Sometimes it’s handy being from Delaware.
I showed MM and Binod a picture of Yo-Nenny. MM thought she was wonderful-looking. I showed MM and Binod a picture of Lulu. Binod (age 24) thought she was wonderful-looking. The handsome 20-year-old son, John, left to fill the car with gas while Binod went into the other room with the Nielson-rating people who had just installed a box on their TV, paying $700 plus $15 per month for the privilege.