The Middle of Everywhere (27 page)

Bao patted Ha's arm and volunteered herself as chaperone. "I will go with you if you want. Don't worry."

Bao pulled out her computer for translating and placed it in on the table in front of her. She flashed the group a big smile and said, "My family attended Thanksgiving dinner at the community center. I made seventy-five egg rolls for the party."

Wendy asked if it was fun. "Sure, sure. We had everything—turkey, pumpkin pie, pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey and bingo. I am very good at bingo." To demonstrate she yelled out, "Bingo!" a few times. We all laughed.

Watching Bao joke around, it was hard to believe she'd lost two children escaping Vietnam. She acted as if life were a grand adventure; she didn't complain and she hurled herself into learning. She was eager to make friends and to make money.

Maria proudly announced that she had found shirts at Kmart for 70 percent off. This elicited gasps of delight from the group. Maria said, "Go tomorrow. The sale ends Tuesday."

She elaborated, "They have Christmas decorations. Very cheap. I bought a Christmas card that sings all by itself."

Yen said, "I bought toys and coats at the Salvation Army for nineteen cent a pound."

Bao said, "I bought a Christmas tree, but the needles turned brown and it died."

"Did you water it?" Wendy asked.

Bao grimaced and said, "No, Miss." Everyone laughed.

Wendy turned to Rosa. "What did you do this weekend?"

"I had a flat tire," she answered shyly.

Ha said, "I had one of those last month."

Wendy asked, "How many of you know how to change a flat tire?" When no one raised her hand, Wendy said, "In the spring, I will teach you how to do this. It isn't hard."

Bao asked Rosa, "Do you have a driver's license?"

She looked embarrassed and shook her head no.

Bao clucked and shook her head. "This one should go to cultural orientation classes."

Wendy rescued Rosa from Bao.

"Rosa," she said, "stay after class and I will tell you what to do for your driver's license. Do not worry. You are not in trouble." Then she changed the subject. "How do you like the snowy weather?"

Yen said, "It is very hard, Miss. All my children fall down."

"My first snow in Nebraska, I put snow in a box to mail to Vietnam," Bao said. "I didn't know it would melt."

"What if the roads are closed when my baby is coming?" asked Rosa.

Maria said, "The hospital will send an ambulance for you, chica. You and the baby will be fine."

"My husband called in sick today because he is afraid to drive on snow," Yen announced. "He might wreck our car."

Wendy said gently, "Maybe your husband could ask an American to teach him to drive on winter roads."

"When we first came here, the snow made our lights go off. We were afraid the snow would cover our house." Ha shivered at the memory. "We sat in the cold and darkness for several days until our caseworker dug us out."

Wendy said, "Many newcomers do not understand cold. It can be dangerous. Please wear gloves, hats, and coats on cold days and make sure your children are dressed warmly. Be careful when you walk on ice."

I reflected on how much we take for granted. We Nebraskans know about hypothermia and wind chill; we have been walking on ice all our lives. Some of the lessons were verbal: "Walk on the grass, that sidewalk is too icy" or "Those shoes don't have enough grip. You'll fall down." But most of what we know has been learned through trial and error. Walking on ice involves knowing what kind of shoes to wear and how to step solidly and slowly, feeling our way, and it involves learning to evaluate surfaces for slickness and recognizing subtle gradations in texture and color that allow us to predict where we are most likely to fall. Newcomers, especially from the Global South, have none of that knowledge.

Wendy asked, "What kinds of food are good in winter?"

This led into a rousing discussion of food. Bao rubbed her stomach and said, "Fried catfish salad with eggplant."

Ha said, "Pizza is always good." Maria agreed.

Yen asked, "Miss Wendy, do Americans eat frogs stuffed with ants?"

"Not too often," said Wendy.

"Menudo is good in winter," Rosa said. "And pozole is delicious with Mountain Dew."

"My baby likes Mountain Dew in her bottle," Yen bragged.

Wendy asked, "Is this good for babies?" Three women said yes and two no. Wendy said, "Milk or juice is better."

Ha wanted to know why American grocery stores do not smell. "Vietnamese stores are very fragrant."

Maria said, "Shrimps in Mexico are much better."

Wendy said, "A shrimp must swim a long ways to get to Lincoln from the ocean." Everyone laughed.

Wendy joked, nurtured, and served as a cultural broker for these women. She made class feel like a party. Her students arrived tired, but they grew less tired as the class progressed.

Wendy asked how everyone's kids were doing. Yen said, "My kids went to Chuck E. Cheese this week."

"I bought my daughter a new dress," Maria bragged. "She made straight A's."

"That is what I tell all my children," Bao said. "Make straight A's like Maria's daughter." Everyone laughed but Ha.

Ha shook her head sadly. "My daughter stay out late on Saturday night. She is a very bad girl."

"She is not a bad girl. She just has bad friends." Bao wagged her finger at Ha. "I told you, do not let her leave the house except for her job and school."

"My son is only three and already he has learned a naughty word from the boy next door," Rosa said sadly.

"Children are spoiled in America," Ha said. "Teachers here are top easy. In Vietnam if you made a mistake you had to kneel in the corner or teacher would hit you."

Wendy asked, "Do you want me to make you kneel in the corner if you make a mistake?"

Bao joked, "I am too fat to kneel in corner."

Ha remained serious and said, "In the United States, children lose their spiritual nature and become materialistic."

Maria said, "My oldest daughter comes home after school and takes care of the children. She cooks and cleans the house."

"If the oldest child is good, all the younger ones will be good," Yen said.

Ha said, "I worry my daughter is with gang kids."

"It is good you are learning English," Wendy said reassuringly. "You can help your children more when you understand our language."

Bao said, "I let my children study at an American school, shop at the mall, and wear American clothes, but I make sure they think like Vietnamese."

"That is the best way to have a family," Wendy said. "Pick what is best from each culture."

She patted Ha's bandaged arm. "I am sorry your daughter is having trouble."

Bao volunteered, "Tell your daughter if she is a good girl, Auntie Bao will buy her a cell phone." Even Ha smiled.

Wendy offered, "Would you like to have an English lesson?" The women nodded happily.

Wendy distributed handouts and had them follow along while she read aloud a dopey story about a visit to a luxury beach hotel, an elegant place with tennis courts and a golf course. I thought it was cruel to make such poor women read about wealth. But, much to my surprise, they enjoyed it. They had no resentment of the rich. Instead, they all pretended to take a vacation to this hotel.

Yen said, "Someday I will go to a hotel like this. I will take my kids and we will build sand houses."

"Sand castles, you mean," said Wendy.

Ha giggled, "I would like to go there just with my husband for a honeymoon."

Rosa said, "What is a honeymoon?"

"Ahhh, chica. You don't know anything," Maria chided.

Wendy intervened. "It's good she is in our class. We can help her."

Bao pointed to the hotel scene on her handout and asked me, "Is it in Florida?" I nodded and she said, "I will make lots - of money and buy my family plane tickets to Florida."

Maria said, "One time I went dancing at a hotel like this one."

Bao interrupted. "Dancing or kissing, chica?"

Maria blushed and Wendy cleared her throat and hid a smile. She said, "Let's look at the grammar in this story."

We worked on which prepositions to use when. The rules were complex and there were many exceptions—
on
the weekend,
in
the morning, and
at
night. We also worked on irregular plurals such as
foot
and
feet
and
child
and
children.
Wendy explained the difference between
flushed,
as in "a face
is flushed," versus flush,
as in "flush the toilet."

After a while Wendy noticed many furrowed brows and tired faces. She said, "Let's put the books away for now."

She wanted to end things on a happy note. She said, "Each of you tell us what you think is beautiful."

The women all looked thoughtful.

Ha said, "The flowers in the mountains near my village; beautiful red flowers bloomed along the road and up into the trees."

Yen said, "The faces of my children as they sleep are very beautiful."

Everyone nodded in agreement. Bao made a joke that wasn't a joke. "My paycheck when I have worked overtime is very beautiful."

Rosa said, "The snow is pretty on the pine trees."

Maria said, "Our teacher is beautiful. She looks like Julia Roberts." We all chuckled, but Maria was serious.

Bao put her hands together in prayer and pleaded, "Please, Miss Wendy, don't go to Hollywood and leave us here."

Wendy said, "I'll take you with me. We'll all stay at a hotel on the beach and make sand houses." Outside it was snowing. Inside, the weather was tropical.

From the moment of arrival, families face dilemmas: Do they let their children drink Coke and watch cartoons? Do they try to speak English or do they stick with their native language? What kind of clothes do they wear? Do they wear shoes in the house? Do they shake hands with strangers? Do they encourage family members to be individuals or to maintain a family-based identity?

Families arrive here intensely unified; they have survived great crises and stayed together. All have focused on the dream of reaching a safe good place. But once here, people develop individual dreams. These conflicting dreams create tension and sometimes break up families that have risked their lives to be together. It's sad to see a family that has survived bombs or crocodiles split up over a credit-card bill or a drinking problem.

Internal culture wars often ravage families. One sister may continue to wear her hijab while other sisters wear shorts and halter tops. A teenage daughter may want to dress like American girls and the father is horrified. Grandchildren watch
The Simpsons,
while, in the next room, their grandfather prays to his ancestors. A Laotian girl argues with her mother in a way the mother didn't even know was possible. A boy in high school wants to date and his father expects him to wait for his arranged bride.

There may be arguments about what language is spoken in the home. Wage earners pick up a new language more quickly than the stay-at-home parent. Old people have a harder time adjusting to a new country and a new language. Some don't even attempt to assimilate. They leave it up to their kids, but often the first thing the kids learn is to disrespect elders.

I once saw a vivid demonstration of power reversals in families. A psychologist asked members of the audience to stand in order of the power distribution of traditional families—old men first, then other adult men, then women by age, and lastly, children. He spoke about assimilation rates for the genders and different ages. Then he had the group stand in the order of who learned about America the most rapidly; The order was exactly reversed—first children, then younger women, then younger men, and last were the elderly.

Gender issues raise some of our thorniest problems. In traditional cultures the lines of power and authority are clearly drawn. Men and older people wield power over women and younger people. Men and women have separate spheres and distinct cultural roles, roles that are difficult to maintain in America. Because of economic pressures and laws regulating education, property, divorce, and domestic violence, traditional roles are compromised. For the first time, many women experience the freedom to work, to go to school, and to marry whomever they choose.

However, women may experience a lack of protection and support. They may be frightened by all their new freedoms and uneasy with the responsibility to choose that comes with them. Ironically, the freedom that women have in our country can lead to a tightening of male control. Men feel threatened by the changes and react by becoming more controlling. Gender role strains contribute to domestic violence or divorce.

Parents tend to be poor and overworked, often holding two jobs or working endless overtime and double shifts. Many parents rarely see their children. A man from Honduras drives a truck long distances and is home with his family at most one night a month. The rest of the time he sleeps in his truck. He cannot afford to call home. Once I talked about a book I was reading with a mother from Croatia. She said, "I wish that one day I would have time to read a book."

Families from certain parts of the world have not been exposed to advertising, sexually explicit materials, or graphic violence in the media. American sleaze is everywhere, and everyone in the family is vulnerable. Refugees have the same problems we all have with MTV, Howard Stern, slasher movies, and sexist music. But they are less prepared. I met a three-year-old Kurdish girl whose first word was
chalupa
from Taco Bell ads. She only wanted to eat what she saw on television. A Syrian mother told me with horror that her son had bought a
Penthouse
magazine. I talked with a Russian man who was one thousand dollars in debt two weeks after he received his first charge card. These are new problems for traditional families.

Refugees' families can be marginalized by poverty and racism. Newcomers learn to look at their cultures through American lenses, and what they see isn't positive. Psychologist Michael White describes people as being "recruited into prejudice," that is, they learn to see themselves as inferior by seeing themselves through the eyes of prejudiced others. Prejudice, what Latinos call "
mal trato,
" leads to depression and internalized feelings of worthlessness.