Citizenship

I want to be an American!

Those of us who were born in the United States seldom think about what it means to be a citizen of the greatest nation on earth. We take our freedoms for granted. We never worry about a revolution, a military coupe, being driven from our home, tortured or worse. We travel freely and through our own efforts can raise ourselves up by our boot straps. We never question whether we will be able to get an education or practice our religion without fear. Americans who’ve never travelled beyond U.S. borders have never known anything else. But for the folks we work with life was much different until they came here. They came from places of turmoil, where personal safety was unknown, where families were often separated when they fled, where they grew up in a refugee camp with no school and the list goes on, where many who were allowed to immigrate were forced to leave a wife, husband or children behind. But the struggle wasn’t over when they landed on America’s shore. They may or may not have come with refugee or asylum status. Those with “status” can get a work permit, a social security card, may have a sponsor to help them. Those who arrived with a diplomatic or tourist visa have no status and cannot get a work permit, risk deportation when their visa expires or they commit even a minor violation of the law. They also risk physical harm and women especially may be preyed upon by human traffickers who’ll force them into either work or sex slavery. Texas we’re told is a trafficking hotbed because of the number of undocumented (illegal) immigrants here from all over the world.

Yet there is a common theme you can’t help but notice as you meet them. They all want to be citizens of The United States of America. They want to work hard and make their way; even if they have to work 2 low paying full time jobs  just to pay rent here in Austin. They want to educate their kids and themselves if possible. They want to live their lives in peace. But most of all they want to vote and be a full participant in American life. They are excited about the presidential election in November.

For those who went to school or grew up in an English speaking country the citizenship test is not as challenging as it is for those with no schooling or who have to learn English well enough to prepare for the exam. Those who’ve taken the citizenship test and passed it are proud of their accomplishment and proudly tell you that they’re a citizen. Those who don’t pass are determined to take it again until they do pass and there are several agencies in town that offer free citizenship classes. But some of those we work with can’t take the classes because of work or family obligations. So we are taking on the challenge in addition to helping people learn to read. It is such a challenge to keep up but it would be such a reward for us if we help even one person become able to call themselves an American!

 

Thousands of Liberians live in the U.S. like our friend above.

She hopes to be able to vote in November.

Rose and Kojo

Meet our friends from Ghana

It was just before Christmas that we stopped at McDonald's for a bite to eat. As I was looking for a seat I noticed a young boy sitting by himself in a kind of isolated table. He looked all alone with just a book of Bible Stories for Children beside him. It looked like a scene I have seen in other countries of children who's parents have no child care and I knew school was out for the holidays. He sat very quietly. The thought came to me, "That boy is from Africa and he is waiting for his mom to get off work." We finished our meal and were headed for the door but when I passed the boy again I said, "How ya doin' young man?" "Fine" he replied. I heard the hint of an accent so I asked, "Where are ya from?" He hesitated as he said, "Ghana." He was waiting for his mother to get off work at 4 o'clock. It was now about 2 p.m.

We stopped in at that same McDonald's several times when we were in that part of the city just to see if that little boy was there. But he never was. Then one day in April we stopped in just to get a drink. But on our way out I felt a need to step around the corner just to see if by chance the boy might be there while Eileen made her way to the car. To my surprise the boy wasn't there but a dark skinned black woman was sitting at the table eating her lunch. "That's his mother" I thought as I looked at her black McDonald's uniform. I didn't know what to do so I just said, "Are you havin' a good day today?" She said she was having a nice day. But I had to know--was she the mother of the boy. So I asked, "Are you from Ghana by chance?" Her eyes brightened, she smiled and I new we were about to have a discussion about Africa. She was in fact the mother of the boy and a very religious woman who spoke about her church. We talked for several minutes and I knew I had to get Eileen involved in the conversation so I went to the car and got her.

We continued to talk when the door opened and in walked the little boy we had seen in December. He smiled when he saw us. He remembered us and he sat down next to his mom. We talked until his mom had to go back to work. Her name is Rose and his is Kojo. Before we left I asked if I could take their picture and promised to make a print for her.

 
It took a while but I printed the picture and Eileen found a nice from for a buck at Goodwill. We put the picture in the frame and stopped at McDonald's a few more times but Rose was never there. Then at last we stopped and saw Rose. Eileen gave her the picture and she said, "It's beautiful and kissed the frame. She was very pleased to have a picture of her and her beautiful boy. She will be a special friend for life.
 

It's Great to be Alive!

What a Difference a Year Makes!   

This has been an amazing week for Eileen and me. Let me tell you about it.

 On Monday, April 18 I saw my cardiologist. My EKG checked out well and he took me off of one medication. It's a water pill and I am so glad to be rid of that one.

On Wednesday, April 27, the anniversary of my heart attack in Uganda I thought about that day last year when I woke up with what I thought was indigestion and was in a hospital in Gulu a few minutes later. This year I woke up and went and worked out for an hour. Later in the day we talked with the father of a Nigerian family we've been working with since October. The man is the minister of a mega church of 900 members in Lagos, Nigeria. We asked him if he joined our church if he would be able to give up his church in Nigeria. That discussion didn't go too well. He said he would not give up his ministry. 

On April 28 last year I was in a tiny flying hospital bound for South Africa for surgery. This year we left at 6 a.m. for the temple in San Antonio with two missionaries to meet a family they had taught that was being sealed. We put the names of our Nigerian friends on the prayer roll. That evening back in Austin we had an incredible lesson with the same Nigerian couple we had spoken to the day before and their children. The father announced to us that he will go back to Nigeria next week to tell his flock there that he plans to join the Mormon Church and that he hopes they will follow him there. He bore powerful testimony of Joseph Smith and the Book of Mormon. He was very happy about his decision and we had an incredible experience. I took some pictures. 

  On April 29th last year I had double bypass surgery and woke up on oxygen with 5 plastic tubes sticking out of my chest. This year we took our Nigerian friends to be interviewed for their baptism on Saturday.  

Today, April 30th we spent all day at the church house where we baptized a very sweet lady from Congo who speaks little English so much of the service was in French. Eileen spoke on the Holy Ghost and Geortund was able to understand her completely. She was followed by a young American woman that we helped teach and who has studied the Church for two years. And finally we finished with the baptism of four members of the Adetuyi family from Nigeria. I baptized Veronica, the mother. Their children were baptized by the Shoal Creek missionaries. What a difference a year can make. I'm grateful for every day that I'm alive.

 

Reading

READING------ I never really thought about how advantaged I am because I can read until coming on mission. I mean, who really thinks about being able to read a newspaper, or a magazine in the doctor’s office, a child’s book or nursery rhyme, an insurance document, the U.S. Constitution, the Pledge of Allegiance, or The Bible? You don’t think about how to do it. You never wonder if the ‘e’ on the end of a word is silent or not. You never think about the sound a double ‘oo’ makes when you read ‘look’ or ‘cool.’ You never think about these things unless you can’t read at all. That’s why we have started working with some of our African members who can't read.

What do you mean they can’t read? They’re adults! Some have teen-age children!

But don’t be too judgmental too fast. Talk to them for just a few minutes and you piece together a sad tale that is hard for them to even talk about. Many were very young when war broke out in their country. Villages were attacked. People were shot or hacked to death or burned alive inside their hut. Families literally ran for their lives, going every which direction. Often family members never made it out, or they got separated but had to keep running through the bush, the swamp, the forest or jungle. No time to look back. Eventually they got to a refugee camp where they may have spent years growing up in conditions that weren’t much better than where they came from. In addition to that, there was no school so they never learned to read. Then one day, some nameless immigration agent came and told them they could come to the United States as a refugee. This was a mixed blessing that involved much more struggle for life or to make a life. No time or money to learn to read.

So in addition to helping some with immigration issues, finding employment or other things we now look for people who cannot read that want to learn. But we don’t know anything about how to teach reading. So of course we looked online and found some good resources and started taking a whack at it. With nothing to teach with we went to Goodwill and bought our first text book----Hop on Pop by Dr. Seuss. Little did we know that Seuss starting writing his witty rhyming books to help kids become better readers. All our kids went through Hop on Pop. It’s a fun book that you can almost memorize the whole thing. But it wasn’t until it became our text book that we noticed that the text gets more complex and difficult the further you get into the book. Turns out, all his books are that way and other “learn to read books” use the same technique.

A few times we have called Eileen’s sister Norma Jean who is pretty much an expert at teaching people to read. Tonight she told us of a technique where you read with the student alternating line for line and moving your finger under the words as you read. We will try that next using the scriptures as a text. We will see how that goes.

The Car Family

The Car Family

Last week we stopped by the Car’s apartment to give them an article about the oldest son in the family, Mulbah Car. Mulbah is finishing high school this year and has been one of the best high school running backs in the United States this year, gaining over 1,600 yards and scoring 33 touchdowns. He has been heavily recruited by major colleges but has committed to play for University of Houston next season. Mulbah is a very modest kid and active in the Church. He spends a lot of his time looking after his younger siblings while his mother is working long hours. His father is in Liberia and he hasn’t had contact with him for many years.

Mulbah Car is one of the best running backs in America. He will play for University of Houston in Fall of 2016

The Car’s live in a small apartment that houses 7 people when you count the mother Oretha, her 5 children and a family friend named Wilfred who stays there so he can get to work. His family lives in another part of the city but Wilfred has no transportation to get to Whataburger where he works. There home also seems to be a gathering place for many children who live in the same apartment complex where many Africans live and often look after each other’s children the same as in Africa.

Mulbah wasn’t home but his mother, Oretha and his sister Blessing were. Oretha can read very little so Eileen read the article we brought to her. She was beside herself with joy. She shouted and cried. She couldn’t believe that such an article was talking about her son. Blessing also shouted and laughed for joy because her name was mentioned in the article. They both hugged Eileen so tight and we so happy to have the article which included 3 pictures of Mulbah.

Watch Mulbah Run  Signing Day Video

 

On another day we stopped by the Car’s apartment. This time only Oretha and Blessing was there and we saw a most amazing mother/daughter event. Oretha was sitting on the couch and Blessing was seated in front of her on the floor; her hair braided in tight rows on her head. It looked very nice I thought.

Oretha selects strands of artificial hair to sew in Blessings braided rows

Then I noticed Oretha had a large curved needle like an upholstery needle and she was literally sewing something into Blessing’s hair. It was quite dark in the room as African homes often are. But in the dim light I could see what looked like long strands of artificial hair that Oretha was sewing into the rows of braids on Blessing’s head.

Layer by layer, fake hair is sewn into Blessing's tight braids.

It took a while to see just how she was doing it. Starting at the back of her head she sewed in a layer of artificial hair but running the curved needle through the braided rows on Blessing’s head. As she finished one layer she would start sewing another layer about an inch up higher toward the crown of Blessing’s head. She repeated this process several times with each layer of hair covering the previous layers.

Eventually she had artificial hair covering Blessings entire head. It looked like real hair and you could not see where the individual layers had been attached. Oretha combed and brushed the hair and it looked so real. You would never guess that it was artificial hair at all. In spite of the poor light I had to try to take pictures with Eileen’s phone. Blessing was so delighted with the end result. The rows of braids were completely hidden and it looked just like her natural hair. Oretha told us this is done commonly among African women who are very particular about their hair.

Blessing shows of her new hair. Looks so natural!!

Little Gloria has braids. But Jaimylynn's curls are sewn on!

 

 

Folded to the side Jaimylynn's fake curls expose her braided rows.

A better view of how the new curls are attached

Keepin' it weird in Austin - Halloween to Christmas

 FROM AFRICA TO AUSTIN

 

Texas state capital from the graffiti wall

We arrived in Austin just before Eileen's birthday. Spent our first week enjoying a surprise visit from daughters Liz and Emily and trying to learn our way around the city which is very confusing with crazy traffic 24/7. We did our best to keep Austin weird by adding to our famous graffiti wall.

A man's home is his castle

Hangout for young people

Liz touches up a painting

A Friendly Dragon

We've spent most of our time trying to find the African members in Shoal Creek Ward. It is quite the challenge. Many in the same family have different last names. Many live outside the ward boundaries. Many have nonworking phone numbers. Others have moved to who knows where. Some do not speak English which makes getting work difficult. Others have visa issues so they can't work legally. Others have very little education and don't read or write well. So we have our work cut out for us.

Daniel and Ricky are two of our new friends from Liberia. They're cousins.

Christmas day was very quiet for us. Spent the morning relaxing, worked out at the gym, talked with family members for a few hours by the time we reached everyone. Had a great Christmas dinner with our Bishop's family. Barbecued briskit (this is Texas after all where barbecue is always in style).

Christmas night found us at Casa Marianella, a refugee shelter that invited us to their Christmas celebration. We had no idea what to expect but it was a great experience. We first met 3 men from Somalia. Then a guy from Ivory Coast. Another from Peru and his friend from Ethiopia. There was lots of food from various countries. We didn't know what much of it was but it was tasty! Soon they cranked up the African music and people started dancing in a big circle. It looked very tribal even though there were people from non-African countries and staff members and volunteers as well. It was lots of fun. And for mom the best part was when a woman from Somalia gave Eileen her tiny little boy to hold while she danced. The little guy went right to sleep and was snug as a bug in his little blanket.

Delicious food from many countries

We stood out from the crowd with our black name tags, my white shirt and tie and Eileen nicely dressed. People were curious to talk about us. A woman from Congo said she had been to our church before and wanted to come again. The man from Ethiopia was very proud that his country has a long history of Christianity. He asked me for a Book of Mormon so I went to the car and got him one. But perhaps the best thing was that we got to visit for several minutes with the Executive Director of Casa and even longer with their grant writer and development person. They both gave us lots of good information and no doubt we will be looking to them as a resource in the future. It was a great night and we felt very productive.

BFF's from 3 different countries!