Can you imagine that a person can go from a high temperature to a temperature of negative 13 degrees? Can you understand that someone who has moved finds himself in front of a passport officer who asks him in a language, and he doesn’t know what to say or answer? This person is me, Khaled, the author of this line.
I moved from my native Sudan as an immigrant with three daughters to the United States Washington Airport and from there directly to Iowa City by bus.
On this day, she wished to die, and indeed, I almost left because I suffered from the pain of reaching America, of course, a matter that you can imagine, dear Continental, but you cannot comprehend the magnitude of the pain!
It was snowing, and the temperature was gone in my body, but it was replaced by ice. A friend I met in Iowa City told me that we were going to work tomorrow. I said, especially, that I needed to start my life to provide food for my three daughters.
When we went to work, he said he would pick me up in the evening to take me home. So, after work, I kept waiting until it was late. I thought I would wait for him outside the workplace, and it seems I chose a different door from the one which we entered, so my friend came back without finding me.
I didn’t carry any phone because I didn’t have official papers to help rent the house or buy a phone. When my friend found me, I was passed out from the cold. He took me inside the car, and I came to life. Three hours later… This is a story with a cold. As for the new American culture, it was harder than the cold and harder than the free Sudan that I left. How do I talk to these people in a language I don’t understand? I spoke English, but in a “British” accent or an American accent. I could hear them as if they were the sounds of birds chirping around me.
But I was able to get past this language with the kindness of the people of Iowa City; these people are the favorites of all without sorting. They were able to help me understand what to say and what I wanted in broken English.
The days passed, and everyone advised me to go to Kirkwood to improve my language. Indeed, Kirkwood and its staff were more kind and compassionate. These are all teachers and staff who have contributed to the development of my language and have also contributed to making me love American culture, unlike what I imagined before I came to America. We thought that the Americans were similar in their actions to the government of George W. Bush, who hit a drug factory in Sudan… But I learned that the American people have nothing to do with politics; they reject all kinds of killing and destruction.
Another struggle I have faced in my life is the culture of eating and the culture of dressing, but over time I realized that America has become America in this position because of granting complete freedom to everyone in their beliefs, clothing and education.
More than that, it gives equal opportunities; it encourages the weak to become strong, the ignorant to learn, and the sick to heal… A civilization that truly respects religions and children is a civilization that deserves recognition and respect. Finally, there is a big difference between us and America in terms of culture, but we are connected by humanity, love for others, serving people and helping them. Thank you, Iowa City, and thank you, Kirkwood, for everything you have provided to us today. I returned to write the articles that I was writing in Arabic in my country, Sudan. I say them out loud.
Thanks, Olga. Thanks, Ryan. Thanks, Mohamed Jouyriyah and thanks, Haidi. I promise all my teachers that this appreciation to you for serving the people and Iowa City and its people remains a crown in my head.
Categories: Opinion
