Meeting the Neighbors

As I’ve spent time in our Garland rental house I’ve made it a goal to meet all of our neighbors that live right around our home. It’s been many years since I lived in a neighborhood and while I love my country life, I saw this as an opportunity to meet some new people that I would never know otherwise.

There are 5 houses that I set my sights on, those on each side, the one directly across from me and the 2 on each side of them. Some were easier to meet than others. One actually tried to meet me so they were the first and the easiest. We’ve exchanged phone numbers and visited several times. Three others I was able to meet when they were outside working in the yard and it was easy to go over and introduce myself. All very kind people.

But the last one, they were more of a challenge. Because the women there wear a hijab I knew they were likely from another country. And when I would see them and try to wave they didn’t give me any reaction. At first I thought that I would have to be content with us just each keeping to ourselves.

Then one day I opened my mailbox and there was an envelope addressed to one of those neighbors that had been accidentally delivered to me. I saw this as my opportunity to try again. So that afternoon I carried the letter to their house and knocked.

When the door opened there was a whole houseful of children standing there, wide eyed with surprise. They called out behind them and the same woman appeared that I had seen coming and going. I smiled and held out the letter and she didn’t instantly take it from me. Instead they cheerfully beckoned me inside. I accepted.

They were very hospitable, bringing me a small plate of nuts and olives and trying to give me something to drink. It was instantly obvious to all of us that this was going to be interesting….not a single person in that room besides me spoke one word of English. We sat there trying to communicate but our cultures are so different that even gestures weren’t working. I tried greeting each child and asking simple questions, but overall no one understood anything I was trying to say.

Just as I was about to leave a man walked in the front door. I didn’t recognize him as the man who lived there. He was surprised to see me and I was excited when I realized that he speaks English. Hallelujah!

He and I started speaking and he told me their story. He is the brother of the man who lives there (his wife and children were there when I visited….it was a full house!). Their families are from Afghanistan and they worked for the US military. He was an interpreter so he is the only one who speaks English. There are 4 brothers who were all brought here by our government with their families and dropped in the middle of Garland TX. They are struggling to find work or learn the culture and the language.

But this is the part he told me that really struck me and will always stay with me. He said to me, “We are so very happy that you received this mail and came to bring it to us. In our religion we don’t eat until we know that our neighbors have food. But you are the first neighbor who will speak to us at all.” Wow. This was so humbling! As a Christian why am I not doing this? Why am I not making sure that my neighbors are ok before I tuck myself comfortably into bed at night (of course I don’t actually have neighbors where I live out in the country, but still I have people).

Then the woman of the house started to say things for him to interpret so she could tell me all of the things she had been wanting to say. They have 8 children (they couldn’t believe I have 9 children!) and that they wanted to thank me for always tossing the balls back over the fence that their children lose. At one point he said, “She says you are the one who has been waving at her and it always made her so happy that you would do that!” I had no idea! They never responded, but I kept waving and now they wave back at me every time like I’m a long lost friend.

A few nights ago there was a knock my the door and it was two of the girls from that house. They handed me a huge plate of food. I didn’t recognize anything on the plate and tried to ask them what it was, but they didn’t understand me. So I just thanked them happily and took the plate. The next morning I was leaving for a few days so I decided to take the plate back with some other food when I returned.

I wanted to take them a watermelon. It’s so American and summery and maybe something they hadn’t had before. When I got back I went to 3 stores and couldn’t find any watermelons. So I settled on a big bag of fresh cherries.

I took the cherries over with their plate and once again I sat in their living room as the center of attention, but no way to communicate. Past “How are you!” “Good, how are you?” we were stumped. As for the cherries, they either didn’t know what they were or I just can’t read their unspoken responses so I have no idea if they understood what I was trying to do. I suspect that right after I left they dug into this curious bag the neighbor lady brought them.

And before you suggest a translator app, we have tried a few of them. It doesn’t really work for English to Pashto. When either of us tries to put something in the translator app, the other person has no idea what they are trying to say. I have learned a few words in Pashto. Hello, thank you and how are you. When I tried to say them they laughed and tried to help me say it correctly. My goal is to show them that I am interested in getting to know them, not to actually learn their language.

Not living in our Garland house full time means I may not have a lot of opportunities to build this relationship, but I’m happy with whatever God does with all of these neighbor friendships. I see myself as His tool to use however He wants. And thankfully all of them are kind and happy to meet us.

And who knows, maybe we are meant to help these people from half way around the world in some way and show them that there are Americans who care about them. And I am already affected by the care they have shown me. I think it will be good for all of us.