Mi hermana

Faces are blurred for privacy and security.

© 2019 Christy K Robinson 

 I don’t speak much Spanish. Never did, even in the two years of high school Spanish class (back in the days when dinosaurs roamed the earth). I could read news articles fairly well, and at one time had at least some vocabulary squirreled away in my brain, but conversation was never my forte. (Wait. “Forte” is Italian. I know lots of Italian terms, some of which are cognate to Spanish, because I use them daily in music.)

Living in Arizona and southern California all my life, I have a few phrases to get me by in a pinch, most of which begin with “No comprende, pero…” or “Mi español es malo.” I also know quite a few words connected with food, since that’s what I need when volunteering with an interfaith ministry that helps refugees fleeing from the horrors of Central American drug cartels and gangs.  For instance, I can ask if they want red or white rice on their plate: “Quieres arroz rojo o blanco?” I even Googled how to say Rice Krispy Treats so I could distribute dessert: “Tratas de arroz y marvavisco.”

One of our Spanish-speaking volunteers told me that some of our guests don't use Spanish that they can understand, but may be speaking an indigenous dialect.

The menu includes beans, white or red (Mexican-style) rice, rotisserie chicken, tortillas, chips, bananas and oranges, and cookies or Rice Krispy Treats, plus lemonade, milk, apple juice, and bottled water. On the tables in the background, volunteers assemble ziploc bags of apples, juice boxes, chips, cracker/cheese sandwiches, jerky, and cookies for the next stage of the refugees' journey to family or sponsor homes while they wait for their immigration court dates.

We served nearly 100 young men and women, most with children and babies. Two of the mothers sat on a bench in the shade and nursed their babies without shame (for there is no shame in feeding one’s child). One of the babies had a fever and cough, and with the help of a Spanish speaker, I asked if the baby was sick. The mother said when she was detained by immigration after 15 days of walking through Mexico without chance of a shower, and with little food or water, she and her baby were put in what the detainees call the hielera or “cold room,” where it’s refrigerated for some reason that the US agencies will not reveal. This is a regular practice of Customs and Border Patrol that takes place in Texas and California, as well as here in Arizona. Instead of two to three hours, she was left there for five days with only a foil blanket and the concrete floor before she could enter the system of cots and food in the for-profit detention center.

I've obscured faces for privacy and security.

The conditions inside of hieleras [what detainees call "the icebox"] are notoriously bad.
According to a February 2018 report from the Human Rights Watch, the conditions in the detention run by CBP centers are abysmal. In addition to the frigid temperatures, migrants are reportedly subjected to intense overcrowding, forced to sleep on concrete floors, and denied showers, soap, and toothpaste. The first photos of a hielera were only publicly released in 2016; they show over a dozen people sharing a tiny, concrete room in a Tucson facility, huddled under foil blankets. “They took us to a room that was cold and gave us aluminum blankets,” a Guatemalan woman who had been held in an Arizona detention center in 2017 told Human Rights Watch. “There were no mats. We slept on the bare floor. It was cold, really cold.” The Iceboxes at the Border in The Cut

This worried mother had seen a doctor before coming to the host church, without any medication administered to her baby, and she expected to be reunited with her husband in California tomorrow. As she talked, she touched the back of her hand to her baby’s forehead and petted his damp hair. My heart broke for her.

Today, after we volunteers had served every morsel of the food and drink we’d prepared at home and brought to the host location, we were standing around in the 90-degree shade, cleaning up and socializing. I looked up to see our guests silently gathering around us in a semi-circle in the hot sun.

One of the women in the group spoke in Spanish, which did not contain words like rice or beans or cookies. It was not a slow speech that I could translate at my comprehension speed. But I did hear words for God’s hands and feet, heart, blessing, thanks, smiles, and God. I also heard words that might have meant that they’d been mistreated on their journey, and they’d feared the gringos (Americans), but with our food and our hospitality they had been surprised.

I leaned over to Mike, who speaks fluent Spanish, and whispered, “I’m going to need a transcript later.” He answered, “I think your heart understands.”

The woman gave her impassioned speech and then fervently prayed for her fellow refugees and gave thanks to Father, Son, and Holy Spirit for the volunteers. The group of men, young children, and women with toddlers or babies on their hips filed past us and hugged us or shook our hands, saying “Gracias. Dios los bendiga.” (Thank you. God bless you.)

You know what? God has blessed me beyond measure, and continues to surprise me with new adventures in loving and being loved. When a penniless, homeless refugee has the corazon to bless me and love me in a foreign language, I’ll take it as God’s voice.

I don’t know her name, this kind woman, but she’s my sister, mi hermana. Godspeed her to safety, security, and a peaceful, happy life.

The video below was posted about one of the host church locations were I've volunteered. I love what they have to say about why we do what we do.

 

https://youtu.be/gFsJEsdgKoc

*****

Christy K Robinson is author of these books:

We Shall Be Changed (2010)

Mary Dyer Illuminated Vol. 1 (2013)  

Mary Dyer: For Such a Time as This Vol. 2 (2014)

The Dyers of London, Boston, & Newport Vol. 3 (2014)  

Effigy Hunter (2015)  

Anne Marbury Hutchinson: American Founding Mother (2018)

And of these sites:  

Discovering Love  (inspiration and service)

Rooting for Ancestors  (history and genealogy)

William and Mary Barrett Dyer (17th century culture and history of England and New England)

Editornado [ed•i•tohr•NAY•doh] (Words. Communications. Book reviews. Cartoons.)