New to U.S. with stories to share
Immigrants joke about ‘real’ English, customs and getting settled.
When Kibreab Weldegabr, an asylee from Eritrea, bought groceries in the U.S. for the first time, he approached a counter and, reading a display card, asked for “One L-B-S.”
The salesperson responded, “You mean, one pound?”
No, Weldegabr said, he wanted one “L-B-S.”
Eritrea uses the metric system. Weldegabr, 26, had never needed to understand English measurement units before winning his asylum case a few months ago.
His attorney Elizabeth Lopez, founder of the Southern California Immigration Project, recently hosted Weldegabr and three other clients from African countries on a panel at First Unitarian Universalist Church of San Diego to share stories about adjusting to American culture.
“I want you all to get a glimpse of what I get to hear every day,” Lopez told the crowd. “They’re people and go through the same things we do.”
She told the story of a client who bussed tables at a restaurant as one of his first jobs in the U.S. When a waitress gave him some of her tip money at the end of her shift, he was offended. He thought that meant that she thought he needed a handout.
After he learned about American tipping culture, he apologized.
Playfully named “To Get to the Other Side,” Lopez’s event opened with clips from “The Good Lie,” a 2014 film about refugees from Sudan getting used to life in the U.S.
The clips ranged from somber moments, such as two brothers working at a grocery store have to throw away expired food, to humorous scenes, such as the brothers trying to memorize all the cereal varieties.
The panelists’ stories of what surprised them about the U.S. struck similar emotions.
Nadine Umutoni, a 28year-old from Rwanda, and Sadiq Hassan, a 25-year-old from Somalia, described the country’s beauty.
“When I came to the U.S., I saw green land — beautiful,” Umutoni said. “You can go out and enjoy the beautiful, green scene. When I was back at home, I never knew there was such a thing.”
Hassan said, “We have paradise on earth, and that’s U.S.A. In Africa, most of the houses I’ve seen are made of mud and stones. Wood houses — it’s wonderful. I’d like to be here forever.”
Jumi Onimole, a 46-yearold Nigerian woman who came to San Diego about two years ago with her son, said she first noticed how many people were homeless.
“It made me realize what we see back in Africa is also here,” Onimole said.
The difference, she said, is that because of corruption in her home country, much of the money meant for programs to help people ends up lining the pockets of people in power.
Several panelists explained their struggle with the different versions of English spoken in their countries and in the States.
“I speak English fluently,” Hassan said, thanking the audience profusely every time it was his turn to speak. “I understand some people, and some people, I don’t understand you.”
Onimole joked that back home, they speak “real English” — British English.
The panelists also talked about American customs that were new to them but they grew to appreciate.
Onimole explained that in Nigeria, party hosts are expected to provide all of the food for their guests. She was delighted to learn about potlucks.
For Hassan, to-go boxes at restaurants was a foreign concept.
He was eating out with a friend, and both were too full to finish their food. In his culture, he said, asking for a togo box would be considered disgraceful.
“This is America,” his friend responded. “Welcome to U.S.A. We don’t throw no food here.”
Lopez asked the group what Americans could do to better help them adjust to the U.S.
“When someone answers a simple question, it makes a difference,” Umutoni responded, giving an example of showing a new arrival how to use an ATM. “You go home feeling like you learned something and are ready for tomorrow.”