Lessons in Einstein from a Refugee

I never know who I will meet when I step through the door of a new family’s home. Sometimes my nose twitches from the fermenting fish smell, sometimes I am warmly greeted by air fresheners and cooking rice.

Today, I pulled up to house. A red van sat in the driveway and a young boy sat outside. A “For Sale” sign sat out front, even though the family will be renting this unit on the North side.

Inside, Ali greeted me warmly. He is a tall, lanky man, speaks excellent English and worked for the US military in Iraq. He was formerly a veterinarian and has held many jobs outside of his trained profession. The man who sponsored him, Lee, is American. He is an older gentleman, late 50s with blue eyes and white hair that is reminiscent of Santa.

As we began to talk, I learned that they struck up an unlikely friendship in 2005. Lee was doing contract work outside of Baghdad; Ali was running a rental company the Air Force used. Ali became Lee’s confidant, each trusting each other in a place where the “other” was often considered the enemy.

The new family with Lee. (photo credit Mak Suceska) 

Seven years later, the family arrived in Des Moines; this time Lee as the guide. Lee has arranged everything, will show them everything-- will help with anything the family needs.

Ali’s wife doesn’t speak any English, but she was formerly a history teacher in Iraq. As we sat together she started crying. I asked if she was ok.

Ali replied, “When you walked through that door. You looked like her sister.”

I was so moved. She was homesick. She missed her sister. She doesn’t know if she will ever see her sister again.

The family has two sons. One 10, one eight. The younger boy has cerebral palsy and has spent his life confined to a wheelchair, but nonetheless has a wicked sense of humor and charming smile.

“Anything I do is for my sons.” Ali said. His hand rested on his sons arm, defending him, protecting him.

But it was when the conversation turned to Einstein that I realized that this job I have is so much more than resettlement.

Ali sat in the middle of the room. I was to one side, Lee to the other.

Looking me in the eye Ali reiterates, “To me, you are on my left, and Lee is on my right. But to you, Lee is on your left. But to me it is correct; to you it is wrong. Just because something seems different doesn’t make it wrong.”

An unlikely friendship between a man in a military and a man protecting his family.

Relativity.