
I was waiting for the rain soaking us to the bone to change to snow as our group of 11 Akron Ohio church youth group members and 2 CRIS (community refugee and immigration services) employees fumbled our way up several flights of stairs with 2 truck loads of donated furniture. Thank goodness Somalians keep the heat cranked up while adjusting to the frigid November temperatures in Columbus, Ohio.
My Saturday entailed attending an informative meeting about the refugee resettlement process, delivering furniture to 2 Somali families (as well as a third American family in need of our surplus), and finishing up with a hearty meal at a Somali restaurant. Although certainly needed and welcomed, our day’s work hardly seemed to put a dent in the broader problem. Columbus is a new home to thousands of Africans who fled their native country left uninhabitable by civil war. Columbus has the second largest Somali population in the nation (about 45,000). Many arrive in the US speaking little English, often with several children, and unprepared to acclimate to the American culture. It’s a far from perfect system they are given to work with, but nonetheless, deep appreciation was was felt for our efforts to contribute a small bit of help and support. And no matter what momentous struggles are ahead of you, having a bed to sleep in verses the floor still seems make all the difference. For more personal stories and info check out this blog.

Tomorrow I will be working on a painting from this weekend’s activities so I will leave further details for that post. But I’ll leave you with this last sketch which was one of the highlights of my day. As we repeatedly walked past the home of the boy on the right (PJ), we stirred enough curiosity to get him, his 2 brothers, single mother, and aunt outside to watch. We ended up giving them several pieces of much needed furniture that honestly was more than the 2 Somali families needed. The 2 youngest boys were completely enamored with the us and especially the boy on the left (Michael), who was one of the youth group members from Akron. I snapped a picture of both them as PJ, without missing a beat, affectionately took Michael’s hand and vigorously tried to warm it between his own after Michael had complained that his hands were cold and freezing from carrying boxes and furniture outside in the elements. I couldn’t feel my fingers, feet, or the end of my nose, but the warm fuzzies were at least keeping my spirit dry and out of the cold.
Technorait tags: refugees, immigration, Somalia