From time to time, I’ve had a routine of volunteering at my local adult school’s ESL Civics department. There, I would assist people along the roadway to legal American citizenship. Plus, I got to use my linguistic capabilities so that was always fun. I performed translations, elaborated on the facets of American history and government, and worked menial tasks.
Before last week, I haven’t been to the adult school in months due to personal obligations and general laziness. However, I was specially asked to attend last Thursday by a teacher there. A new student was present, one who spoke very little English and was a native of Cambodia.
I went and found the student not in the Asian corner as expected, but seated towards the front of the room, amidst Hispanics. After all, what was the use of grouping up according to geographical boundaries if one didn’t share a common language? I introduced myself and found the lady to have a very soft voice, perhaps reflective of a fatigue garnered from life.
I helped her pronounce and translate some of the formalities of the naturalization process, but pretty soon, she was telling me about her life. It didn’t surprise me either–a person who speaks both Khmer and English to a proficient standard is rare nowadays.
She has lived in California for six years. Her family used to own a donut shop, but the retail space was purchased by a Quizno’s after two years. Around that time, the landlord of her home had increased the rent and her family had to find a new place to live. The family relocated, but unemployment was still an issue. The lady’s daughter, who is currently pregnant, works at Target’s cafeteria. Her son-in-law works in airport, with shift being 3 am- 3 pm, considering the one hour commute time.
None of these struggles are new. As tragic as they are, everyone’s accustomed to hearing of similar burdens, considering our current economic recession. What sets this lady apart is that she has no one. I already mentioned how rare it is for a person to be proficient in both Khmer and English. Within lady’s own family, the adults speak only Khmer and the children have had opportunities to study English since they were in Cambodia, but no longer retain fluency in Khmer due to their schooling. There is no large or organized Cambodian community in this area.
Furthermore, the lady has a mother in Cambodia who is very ill. She is the only one with the ability to take care of her–all of her siblings had passed away during the brutal Pol Pot regime in the 1970s. Every so often, she has to go to Cambodia to take care of her mother, though she may not stay longer than a period of three months without risking her permanent resident status. In the last 6 years, she has spent over 450 days outside of the United States.
I don’t mean for this to be a sob story, but it has had a deep affect on me. It was an eye opener to the situation of people who come to this nation in pursuit of personal freedoms. There are many stories out there which are sure to be much more horrific. The lady’s struggles were in spite of the fact that she was educated. She had received over 10 years of instruction and could read French during a time in which many in her country haven’t had any schooling and couldn’t even read their native Khmer.
The teacher who had asked me to come says that I probably have made a deeper impact than I know on the woman simply because I was there. Suffering is an internal part of the human experience. What may one person do to help relieve the sorrows or struggles of the next?
The Life of Tea 