S: To start off, can you tell me where and when you were born?
E: I was born in Congo, in the city of Kabonge, and I was born in 1996. I’m the fifth of family, like from the first born, so of the six. We are six kids: three girls and three boys. Yep.
S: Can you tell me about your home country of Congo? How old were you when you left?
E: I was about two years and a half. Yeah.
S: So you don’t remember much about Congo.
E: No, because the war started when I was one. [Children crying in background] My mom was carrying the burden. Yeah. I was still young when the war started. But still, the war wasn’t good and we moved from Congo. We went to, I think, Nyakabande [Transit Center]—that’s where we settled first. And after that place, we moved to Uganda. And in Uganda, we lived there, but the life was still not too good for us. Where we lived, like, school fees and so many things were so bad. Like, to see our parents are too old—they can’t handle the situation we lived in Uganda. So in Uganda we lived in almost seventeen years. So from that time, we lived in Uganda, things became so hard for us. And we had to be farming, to see if you can go back to school. Because my mom—she can’t do anything, my dad can’t do anything. So me and my brothers and my sisters, we were just doing farming so we could see if we could get money for school fees. And then if we don’t have anything, we have to stay home. So life was difficult in Uganda. And by that time, we could stay home the whole night or the whole day, no food, no water. Maybe water, that wasn’t too bad, but food was really tough for us. Yeah, so life wasn’t good until this process came in of bringing people in United States and other countries. And then they started calling people’s names. Like, people’s names were coming out and then you wait until maybe you see if yours will come out too—like, for your family. My mom could go to the office all day, sit, just to go and ask about us. When other people came with us from Congo, they came into United States and we were still in Uganda. Just like saying, maybe we’re not going to United States. Maybe our life can change. But God made it and they brought out on them, and then we started interviews, and then we finished, and then we waited, and that’s when we got here. We came in 2016, September 27. That’s when we got in United States. But life wasn’t good in Uganda. We just tried our best, struggled to see if everything can work. Yeah.
S: So this was in the resettlement in Uganda, correct?
E: Mm-hmm. Yes.
S: So you said that your parents had trouble paying the school fees. Were you always able to attend school or were there periods where you couldn’t afford it and you had to stay home?
E: Yeah, sometimes we were staying. Like, all the times we were staying, like, two weeks—before we go to school, we have to spend two weeks or one week at home to wait because you want another compound without school fees. Yeah.
S: Do you think that life in the resettlement was better than life in Congo?
E: I think life in resettlement was good [by comparison]. The reason why I say it was good is because, okay, still there is a war but not war like in Congo. Yeah. People could try to look for something they can do. But in Congo, you get something to do—maybe you go to farm—and then war starts. And you will leave everything you are doing. But in the resettlement, people could try their best to see if everything could work. Yeah. Because I think in the resettlement, life was somehow better. Because people were having peace. Not like in Congo. Every time you sit—like, in this moment—one minute you hear the guns have started. And if you went to the farm, you alone, you wouldn’t know where your parents are, your siblings, things like that. But in Uganda, I did not see war like in Congo, like the way my parents always say. Yeah.
S: Did your parents tell you about their escape from Congo?
E: No, not at all. But they always say the reason why they came from Congo is because of war, of Mobutu [Mobutu Sese Seko, military dictator of Zaire/Congo from 1965-1997] and—I don’t know the other name—but that’s the reason why they moved from Congo. Yeah.
S: Do you think of yourself as Congolese?
E: Yes, I am. Yeah.
S: So do you still feel in your heart that you’re Congolese, even though you don’t remember any of that country?
E: Yes, yes I do.
S: What does that mean to you, being Congolese?
E: It means a lot to me, because even though I’m not going to school, I pray that if anything changes or if I’m capable of doing anything to change my country or to make my country have peace, I feel that my country is going to have peace, and one day, one time, I’ll go back there and find peace. Yeah.
S: I hope you can go back too.
E: Yeah.
S: What do you think is the cause of the violence and the war in Congo, and how do you think it can be fixed?
E: I think the way it can be fixed is people cooperating. Cooperation, peace, communication, and understanding each other. Yeah.
S: Okay. So, when you came to the United States you were twenty years old?
E: Yes.
S: Did you do any work in the Congo after you finished school? Or—I’m sorry, not the Congo—Uganda.
E: No, I didn’t do any work in Uganda.
S: Okay. So what was your daily life like in the resettlement?
E: Okay. I was going to school and then—actually, after, like, when we go to the whole days, I’d do farming, like, to see if I can help my parents. Maybe, you know, there are seasons you’re planting, weeding, harvesting. So if there’s time for planting crops, like growing crops, and then I go during the whole days and then I help my parents. That’s the work I could do. And then go to church. We had an organization which is called CIYOTA, that’s COBURWAS International Youth to Transform Africa. So that organization could teach us a lot of things. A lot from our country, how can we do—what we can do to change everybody’s situations. How we can overcome our problems, how we can teach people how to overcome their problems. Yeah, things like that. And that helped us because most of the holidays we had our matron. She could come from where we were studying and come to the camp and to organize all the girls together and teach us a lot of things. So many things, and then that could help people to understand and to see the step forward, what you can do or what you’re going to do in your future.
S: Mm-hmm. And what is it that you do want to do in your future? [both laugh]
E: Oh, yeah. My future—okay. I don’t go to school and I wanted to go to school, but it didn’t work because my age was—I was twenty years [when I came to the United States] and that’s when they said I can’t go to school here. My plans were to see my family grow up in good situation, and I was hoping to be a nurse and then to see if all these diseases can move away, or help people who are sick. Because you find in the camp we were not just living there, like all refugees. We were not all refugees. There are nationals. You find a refugee goes to the hospital—like, for example, I go to UPMC—or someone goes to Magee Hospital—and you find [in the resettlement camp] because you are a refugee, you are not a national, they treat you like—they don’t see—they bring that thing, like tribalism. Things like that. And then there was no cooperation, and there was no understanding between us and nationals. Even in the school, they would hit us. And they see us like—so many refugees are intelligent, but because they hit us, nothing could go on. And that’s what I was fighting for, and see if all people have to understand that we are one. Yeah.
S: So you’re hoping to one day be a nurse?
E: Yeah.
S: Okay, that’s a great goal to have. So you’re hoping to go back to school to do that?
E: Yeah, if I can. [both laugh]
S: Did you give birth to all of your children here in the United States?
E: I don’t have children. [laughing]
S: Oh, you don’t have children! Okay. [both laugh] But you hope to one day have children?
E: Yes.
S: Do you feel good about having children in the United States?
E: Mm-hmm.
S: How do you think that they’ll be treated?
E: Hmm, okay. As, like, my culture? Even though, here, they say you can’t—okay, you can’t tell your child “Do this,” or “You don’t have to do this.” Because the way we were raised in Africa—These young kids in Africa, you go to school, but—like, for example, things of phones. Even me too—I wouldn’t have a phone in school. There, if they get you with a phone, you bring your parents, they take your phone and you’re going to get it at the end of the year. Or still, they tell you not to bring a phone anymore. But here, a student can go to school, he or she can do anything with a phone and nothing will happen. Because here they don’t beat anyone. They don’t—how I see it, they don’t even advise students. You dress the way you want. You talk the way you want in class. You talk the way you want to your parents. But in Africa, no. And I don’t want that to happen to my kids.
S: So you think there’s not enough discipline in the United States?
E: Yeah. Yes, yes, yes, yes.
S: So when you raise your kids, you want them to--
E: Have discipline.
S: —have more of the African style of discipline?
E: Yeah. Yes.
S: Okay. Tell me more about the refugee application process. What was the hardest thing about it? [both laugh]
E: Oh. The hardest thing about it is about, like, “Why did you leave Congo to Uganda? Are you hoping to go back there?” Like, each time they ask “Why, why, why?” You give them reasons and reasons, but they still ask you and I was wondering why they keep on ask that question. Even here, they ask when we were applying for the green card. That’s the hardest thing I saw in there. Yeah.
S: Do you feel like they didn’t believe you?
E: Yeah.
S: Like they were suspicious?
E: Mm-hmm.
S: How did that make you feel?
E: I felt bad because we were just telling them the answer, but I think they wouldn’t accept the answer because they were not believing us, what we were saying or what we’re trying to mean. Like, to tell them or to say.
S: What did you bring with you when you came from Uganda?
E: Ah, from Uganda? We just came with the documents from the offices, luggage for clothes, and that’s all.
S: So all of your personal belongings, you had to leave in Uganda?
E: Yeah. Yeah, like the documents from the settlement, we left them at the office. Because you can’t bring them here. They can’t work, they can’t do anything. Yeah.
S: How did you feel when you left, knowing that you might never go back?
E: I felt bad because sometimes you have friends or family, friends or your relatives, and since they—I don’t know, maybe others are still in the Congo. Or others are still in Uganda. And then you feel like, Oh my God. I have spent almost two years doing this interview. What about these people who are going to remain here? Are they going to pass? Are they going to come too? But you find we do interviews the same day with people, and they do [everything] before us, and then we do after, but still we go before them. And I ask myself, Why? There’s no mistake, no one died, no one got pregnant—maybe that’s the one that stopped her or him. I don’t understand. And then I feel like that’s bad. Or, when are they going to come? Because the situation there isn’t good.
S: It doesn’t seem fair.
E: No.
S: So there was a little bit of guilt that you felt?
E: Yeah, because when we left, they took all the lands where people could harvest. Like, where you could say, “This is where we’ll be getting food to feed my children, to get school fees to take my children to school.” That couldn’t happen. Because they brought in so many refugees. Different tribes, different people. And then they took all the lands. As I say now, I don’t know how they feed. Because life is too tough, more than before. Because you can’t even get [land] where to harvest anything. I don’t know how they survive that. That’s the most problem, which is their hunger is something else.
S: So you came in September of 2016. Were you aware of the election that was happening when you came here?
E: No.
S: Okay. So did you pay attention—did you know when the election happened and Donald Trump became President?
E: Yeah.
S: What did you think about what he has to say about refugees and people in your situation?
E: Ah. Okay, Donald Trump has sometimes—I think, to me, he is not a good President because of so many things he does, so many things he speaks about refugees. It’s not good at all. You find sometimes people have to come here, but he cancel. No refugee, no people from this country who are supposed to come to United States. But before we came, I heard from people saying good about Obama, Barack Obama. I liked things about Barack Obama, he was good. I think Donald Trump, no. He is not good at all to me. I don’t know to other people. Yeah.
S: Did it make you feel optimistic that you were going to an America that had elected a black president? Did you feel some sort of shared identity there?
E: Not too bad at all. Yeah.
S: Okay. How is America different than you expected?
E: America is too different than I expected it to be, because the first thing I can say is school. Students go to school, nothing they pay. They don’t pay anything to go to school. And those people who go to college or universities, you find they have scholarships. But in Uganda, to get a scholarship, it’s not something you can expect to—you have to work hard to get that scholarship. I know even here you have to work hard to get the scholarship, but the way I see it here, it’s so easy. Yeah. And I like it here because if you have your kids, they go to school without any problem. The buses—nothing. They bring the bus, you don’t pay anything to go to school. And another thing I have seen different here is jobs. In Uganda, you can finish all your degrees. But you finish almost ten years, no job, no nothing. You ask yourself, what am I going to do or how am I going to survive? I thought I am going to school and I am going to get a job. Maybe I can sustain my family or my relatives or my siblings who are going to school. But nothing I can do. But here, you go to school, you don’t go to school, you get the job if you stay strong. And I like that because it helps so many people in terms of, like, you find people who have families in Africa and then because they get something small. Because here, you work, even if it’s one hour, you get something to put in your stomach or to pay for something, like your bills. But in Africa, you work for someone, even two months, you will not get paid.
S: Oh goodness.
E: That was so terrible and hard for us to come over it. Because you work for someone or you do something for someone and he or she will not understand the situation you are living in. But here, I was happy to be here because you find all people are the same. You got the job even if you have studied, you have gone to school, you have finished your degrees, but all people in work at the job, they are all the same. They handle them the same way. They will not say here, “Oh you, you finished your degrees. This one did not go to school even a single day.” But they will see how you are doing your job, how you are respecting your time, how you’re doing everything. Even someone can go to school and another one will not go to school, but you will find that the person who didn’t go to school is more than that one who went to school, here. That’s what I have seen here.
And the reason why people like it here, when they go to work—you know, us refugees, we are used to farming. Farming was really our job, that’s what we could do, that’s why we could get everything we have to sustain our families. So people get here and you find someone who was born here, you go to the same job, but you find him or her to that job, but she quit the job before you. And then you ask yourself, Why are they like this? Why are they don’t want to work? You ask yourself so many questions. Why these people don’t want to work? We like to work and we like to get money. I don’t know if it’s because what we passed through in the past. I ask myself so many questions about that because you work and you see other people not working. And then ‘you ask yourself, so how does these people feed or pay their bills? Because you go to the company to do something, you see your family, you want your family to be better. To be in a good situation. But you find for them, they don’t care. But for us, it means a lot to us. It means really a lot to us because we have passed through many things which we can’t even dare to face again, anymore. Because here, you work, you have savings, you get food stamps. That—we don’t know how to feel. That’s why we are always playing to say, if those people who are still in Africa, they can come, maybe if they can pay the bills, they get where to sleep, but still they get something to eat. That’s what we are happy for. Because it’s really different here. And I like it, the way it is. I cannot get money to save, but I will get money to pay where I live. Instead of living outside the house, or I be homeless with feed for people who are outside. And we thank God that God has enabled us to live here or he has enabled us to get in United States. And that’s what we are supposed to think about—or to feel like, we have to, like, work hard and solve all the problems you have faced in the past.
S: Mm-hmm. Well, since you brought it up—can you tell me more about your faith and how that’s helped you get through all of the challenging parts of your life?
E: Like, for me, in Africa, I went to school from low level to the highest because I was almost completing my high school and then we had to come here, so I had to stop. So during my studies, my mom couldn’t do anything. You know, she has a problem with her leg. So I can say, time for weeding. She can go to people’s farm and then she goes to weed for people so she can get—because that’s the work she can try her best to see if she can get something to take us to school or buy books or buy uniforms. She could go to people’s farm and weed for them, get money, get food—we were going to take to school because we were contributing food to take to school they would be cooking for us. It was really hard to get school fees because I would even spend one month staying in the hostel because I was staying in the boarding at school, so I could stay one month, no school fees. And that was really hard for me to understand. I was almost dropping out of school because of the situation. I was feeling for my mom, and my dad is too old, he can’t do anything. My mom, she can’t do anything, it’s just like, what is this? What am I going to do for my life? How am I going to overcome all this? So however I overcome this all: When I got here, I got the first job at Homewood Suites in hotel. So I could make the beds, clean, and then that job helped me because I would help my parents to pay the bills—like, house rent, buy things in the house, furniture, TV, and buy so many things or assist them in paying the rent and then pay the travel document. Because they had not started getting the social security income. My dad was the one who was getting the social security income, and me and my brother—he’s not here—we were the ones who were working. So we had to do our best to see everything was going good. And that’s when I overcome all the problems by getting the job, doing the job, going to work, and I felt good because I felt myself that all the problems are gone. Because I’m getting a job, I’m going to be getting paid, not the way [it was in Africa] that I spend one week, one month, no nothing—I can’t do anything for myself, I can’t buy anything for myself. Yeah, so I was really happy to see that everything worked.
S: And you religion—has that been a big part of what has sustained you?
E: Pardon?
S: Your religion—God? How do you feel that that’s been important in your journey?
E: Yeah, it is more important because there is nothing you can do without the strength from God. So whatever you do, is God’s strength. Because God leads us to do anything we do. Because you can just wake up, like I’m the one who made myself to wake up in the morning. Or I am the one who made myself to get the job because I know English or I went to school—No. Without God, you cannot do anything. That’s what I believe. And with God, everything is possible.
S: Do you feel like your faith is just as important here as it was back in Uganda?
E: No. [My faith in God] was still good, even in Uganda. Because if we could sleep or if we could go to someone’s farm and you do for that person something and you get paid, that was God. God’s plan. And God knew what was going to happen. You wake up in the morning, you go to someone’s farm, you do something, and you don’t know what he or she is going to do for you. But you find yourself getting so many things from each and every day. People were not the same. There are people who were rich and people who were not rich. So you wake up in the morning, someone has a big shop or a big boutique. But you go to farm for someone. And that person who has a shop has everything—every kind of food, every kind of clothes—but he cannot give you even a cloth, like slippers to put on, or salt to put in food. But you go to farm for someone, and that person will give you plenty things to sustain your family in a couple weeks or couple month. And you ask yourself, why me? Why is this happening to me, and it’s not happening to the other person, yet that person is rich? And that—I see that was God. Yeah.
S: Okay. How have you been treated by Americans since you’ve gotten here?
E: Okay. Since I got here, Americans—like, especially black Americans—were not good at all up to now. Because you don’t do anything—you don’t talk to them, you don’t do anything—but you find they are frustrating you. Like, disturbing you every time. Before we came here in Northview Heights, we were living in Crafton. And we had this neighbor who was too terrible to our house. Each and every minute, each and every second, her kids would come to our door, knocking, putting—rubbing eggs on the door, putting stones on the way, coming to see—our parents sat outside, like in front of the door—start pushing stones to them or trying to beat them, kind of that thing. And I was like, Why? Why is this happening? We have so many neighbors here, but why is this happening? Why us? Why—what did we do to them? We didn’t do anything. We didn’t talk to them any, like, something bad, or were we mean to them? No. And I was asking myself, why? And then when you got here, it came the same thing--
[Elizabeth's mother passes through the room and exchanges a hello with the interviewer]
E: It became the same thing again here, and then we put it to the police. And when we put it to the police, they handled the case, and now we are fine. I thank God that everything went good.
S: Do you think that they were harassing you because you’re a refugee?
E: Yes.
S: Wow, okay. I’m sorry to hear that.
E: It’s okay.
S: I’m glad that you’re in a better neighborhood now. Do you like it better over here?
E: Yeah, we like it because here you can sit inside if you—like, before we came, we were still sitting here, remaining inside, but still they would come and disturb us. But since we called the police, they cannot come and disturb us. And here, if you don’t go out, you won’t see anything bad. Even if it’s not going to happen to you, but you see it’s happening to other people. So, like, from Monday to Friday or Saturday, I can sit here and not go out. Yeah. And I don’t know what is happening out, if no one comes and disturbs me at the door. But if you go out, sometimes you get injured. Because here—okay. Here, I think, is not a good place. It’s because people like it here because these houses are for government. So they like it here because sometimes when you’re not working or you were sent back home to wait when they want to call you back at work, you go and explain to the office and they will understand and the government will have to help you pay your rent, or something you have to pay. You can’t. You leave the job, you know where to get rent from. So I like it here, but it’s always violence here. Guns every day, people’s car—they’re always having so many problems, cases like fighting every day.
S: In this neighborhood, specifically?
E: Mm-hmm.
S: So you don’t feel safe, is that what you’re saying?
E: Yeah, but I feel safe if no one disturbs me. If you stay inside, nothing. But sometimes they fight each other. They don’t fight refugees. But since we reported to the police, nothing. They didn’t do anything again up to now. And that’s—we are happy and we are good. We are now good.
S: Are there other refugees in your community?
E: Here?
S: Mm-hmm.
E: So many refugees. So many refugees. We are like—I think most of the houses are for refugees here.
S: Do you spend a lot of time with other refugees?
E: Mm-hmm. Yeah, sometimes they come to our house to visit.
S: What language do you speak with other refugees?
E: Kinyarwanda, Swahili, yeah.
S: Is it nice to have a little bit of your home back when you speak your native language?
E: Mm-hmm.
S: Do you think you’ll always speak your native language?
E: Um, yeah.
S: If you have kids one day, will you also teach them those languages, or will you only teach them English?
E: No, no, no. They have to know my mother tongue. Yeah. Yeah.
S: So can you tell me in your opinion, what can Americans do better to make refugees feel at home?
E: I don’t really know, but I feel like we have to be one. Whether we’re black American or not black American, we are one person. Yeah. I just want us to feel that—feel like we are brothers and sisters. Everything you do, we are all the same.
S: Do you hope to one day apply for citizenship?
E: Mm-hmm.
S: How will it make you feel to be able to call yourself an American?
E: Okay, I’ll be happy, but still I will want to go to my country too.
S: So you’ll be happy to be an American, but you will still feel in your heart to be Congolese?
E: Yes. [laughs] Yeah.
S: Do you think that’s a good thing, to have these two identities?
E: Mm-hmm. Yes.
S: And you hope that your kids will also have those?
E: Yes, yes.
S: Are you married, Elizabeth?
E: No, no. I’m still single. Yeah.
S: Are you hoping to also find a spouse who is African, or would you like to marry an American?
E: No, African.
S: Definitely African, okay. [both laugh]
E: Yeah, yeah.
S: So, do you remember how old you were when you first found out that you were a refugee?
E: Okay, I was like nine years old.
S: And how did you find out?
E: My parents.
S: How did you feel when they told you?
E: I felt so bad, because of the way the situation started or the things we passed through and how we became refugees. Yes.
S: And so at that point, you knew that they were trying to find a new place for you to live?
E: Mm-hmm.
S: Where were you hoping that you would ultimately end up?
E: I didn’t know. Yeah, yeah.
S: Did you think maybe America, or some European country, or Canada?
E: Um, I thought like in Europe. Because I couldn’t think about, like, American, or to be in America or Canada or any other place. Because I thought they would take us to other countries.
S: And when you finally received the invitation, how did you feel?
E: I felt so happy. Yeah, I was so happy.
S: How long was it between when you got the invitation and when you finally left?
E: It was one year and a half.
S: So lots of waiting. Okay. And what was the most memorable part about your journey to America?
E: I was like—okay, we came because like—I remember when they called us, “The visa is ready,” and then we have to go where we were supposed to wait for the dates to fly. I felt so good and I was so happy but still I felt so bad because most people, they sent them back because they had sent them the invitation that they’re supposed to leave the resettlement, but unfortunately when they got where we’re supposed to take the bus from, they told them, “You’re not going.” And that made me so sad and people cried. People felt so bad because sometimes you find people don’t have money for shopping, but you have like a shelter, and then you see you get someone who is maybe looking for some—like, a plot to buy. And then you sell, so they can get something to dress up your kids or yourself. And then you find people, like, someone sold his land so they can get money and buy some clothes and stuff for the family, but unfortunately when he got to the office, they told him, “You’re not going.” And that was really so sad because he couldn’t get any other place to go or where to live. Because we didn’t know when or what time they’re going to call him back to go.
S: So you didn’t really believe it until you got here?
E: Yeah. I couldn’t believe. Because I could see how people—even where we were waiting for the days to come, people were—every day they were doing medical check-up, and then you take medications—every day, every morning you go for medical check-up and you find some people, we will find some people have spent three weeks in hotel and I was saying, “Oh God, I don’t know if we are going.” Because before we came, my mom and my young sister, they went first and they remain with my dad. Because my brother had came before us. So they took my sister and my brother for TB test. My sister and my mother for TB test. And I was like, Oh my God. If they’re taking them first and then they find that they have the TB, we are not going. Because they have to be recovered before they allow us to go. I was praying so hard asking God to help us because the situation we were living in, it was no good. But I thank God that he answered our prayers and they didn’t find anything. Then we found them there and we found so many people have spent, like, two weeks, three weeks, four days, and then the flight—the flight went and they’re still treating them and asking God to help us and come over that. And that’s when we saw ourselves here. And we couldn’t believe we are here until we got out at the airport. We saw our caseworkers and everything, that’s when we believed that we are now in the United States. Because I was saying, maybe something could happen to us, and they say, “Oh, now we are in Kenya or now we are in Europe and we need to go back.” I was not believing anything before we get here.
S: But you’re here now!
E: Yeah, we’re here! [laughs]
S: I’m so glad you’re here.
E: Yeah, I’m so happy too.
S: Is there anything else you want to share with us about your life?
E: Um, about myself—like, me, the way I live—my family, my parents, my siblings—I just want to see everyone in a good life. Like, yes—to come. That’s what I feel like. And I feel like for now, I can’t talk about studies because my age—I’m now twenty-three, and I don’t feel like I can go back to school at this moment, because I’m now taking care of my dad until maybe when I get married. So I can’t talk about studies. And the problem is taking care of my dad—I thank God for giving me that job because they pay me for it. So I left the job I was doing, I’ve now two months been doing this job, and it’s really a good job because I have time to spend with my parents, I have time to ask them what I have to ask them, maybe about the past to know everything about the past or to know what step forward or how I can get to my future. Yeah. That is really good and what I like about this job. Even though my dad can’t remember anything, but my mom does. Because now my dad is ninety-one years old.
S: Oh, gosh. Does he have dementia?
E: What is that?
S: Memory loss?
E: Yeah.
S: So you’re his full-time caretaker.
E: Mm-hmm.
S: That’s very noble work and I know that your parents have done a lot for you and your siblings.
E: Yeah. And that’s—I’m happy that I can do all they ask. Maybe if it is two years to take care of him, I think I will get blessings from them. Because I need to do what they did for me, even though I’m not going to complete it. But I pray to God to help me, I do my best. Maybe I do, like, fifty percent of what they did for me when I was still young or when I was still in school. And then I can make them happy. Yeah.
S: That’s wonderful. Well, thank you so much for speaking with me, Elizabeth.
E: You’re welcome.
S: It’s been very nice to hear your story.
E: Yeah, thank you.
[End of Interview]
E: I was born in Congo, in the city of Kabonge, and I was born in 1996. I’m the fifth of family, like from the first born, so of the six. We are six kids: three girls and three boys. Yep.
S: Can you tell me about your home country of Congo? How old were you when you left?
E: I was about two years and a half. Yeah.
S: So you don’t remember much about Congo.
E: No, because the war started when I was one. [Children crying in background] My mom was carrying the burden. Yeah. I was still young when the war started. But still, the war wasn’t good and we moved from Congo. We went to, I think, Nyakabande [Transit Center]—that’s where we settled first. And after that place, we moved to Uganda. And in Uganda, we lived there, but the life was still not too good for us. Where we lived, like, school fees and so many things were so bad. Like, to see our parents are too old—they can’t handle the situation we lived in Uganda. So in Uganda we lived in almost seventeen years. So from that time, we lived in Uganda, things became so hard for us. And we had to be farming, to see if you can go back to school. Because my mom—she can’t do anything, my dad can’t do anything. So me and my brothers and my sisters, we were just doing farming so we could see if we could get money for school fees. And then if we don’t have anything, we have to stay home. So life was difficult in Uganda. And by that time, we could stay home the whole night or the whole day, no food, no water. Maybe water, that wasn’t too bad, but food was really tough for us. Yeah, so life wasn’t good until this process came in of bringing people in United States and other countries. And then they started calling people’s names. Like, people’s names were coming out and then you wait until maybe you see if yours will come out too—like, for your family. My mom could go to the office all day, sit, just to go and ask about us. When other people came with us from Congo, they came into United States and we were still in Uganda. Just like saying, maybe we’re not going to United States. Maybe our life can change. But God made it and they brought out on them, and then we started interviews, and then we finished, and then we waited, and that’s when we got here. We came in 2016, September 27. That’s when we got in United States. But life wasn’t good in Uganda. We just tried our best, struggled to see if everything can work. Yeah.
S: So this was in the resettlement in Uganda, correct?
E: Mm-hmm. Yes.
S: So you said that your parents had trouble paying the school fees. Were you always able to attend school or were there periods where you couldn’t afford it and you had to stay home?
E: Yeah, sometimes we were staying. Like, all the times we were staying, like, two weeks—before we go to school, we have to spend two weeks or one week at home to wait because you want another compound without school fees. Yeah.
S: Do you think that life in the resettlement was better than life in Congo?
E: I think life in resettlement was good [by comparison]. The reason why I say it was good is because, okay, still there is a war but not war like in Congo. Yeah. People could try to look for something they can do. But in Congo, you get something to do—maybe you go to farm—and then war starts. And you will leave everything you are doing. But in the resettlement, people could try their best to see if everything could work. Yeah. Because I think in the resettlement, life was somehow better. Because people were having peace. Not like in Congo. Every time you sit—like, in this moment—one minute you hear the guns have started. And if you went to the farm, you alone, you wouldn’t know where your parents are, your siblings, things like that. But in Uganda, I did not see war like in Congo, like the way my parents always say. Yeah.
S: Did your parents tell you about their escape from Congo?
E: No, not at all. But they always say the reason why they came from Congo is because of war, of Mobutu [Mobutu Sese Seko, military dictator of Zaire/Congo from 1965-1997] and—I don’t know the other name—but that’s the reason why they moved from Congo. Yeah.
S: Do you think of yourself as Congolese?
E: Yes, I am. Yeah.
S: So do you still feel in your heart that you’re Congolese, even though you don’t remember any of that country?
E: Yes, yes I do.
S: What does that mean to you, being Congolese?
E: It means a lot to me, because even though I’m not going to school, I pray that if anything changes or if I’m capable of doing anything to change my country or to make my country have peace, I feel that my country is going to have peace, and one day, one time, I’ll go back there and find peace. Yeah.
S: I hope you can go back too.
E: Yeah.
S: What do you think is the cause of the violence and the war in Congo, and how do you think it can be fixed?
E: I think the way it can be fixed is people cooperating. Cooperation, peace, communication, and understanding each other. Yeah.
S: Okay. So, when you came to the United States you were twenty years old?
E: Yes.
S: Did you do any work in the Congo after you finished school? Or—I’m sorry, not the Congo—Uganda.
E: No, I didn’t do any work in Uganda.
S: Okay. So what was your daily life like in the resettlement?
E: Okay. I was going to school and then—actually, after, like, when we go to the whole days, I’d do farming, like, to see if I can help my parents. Maybe, you know, there are seasons you’re planting, weeding, harvesting. So if there’s time for planting crops, like growing crops, and then I go during the whole days and then I help my parents. That’s the work I could do. And then go to church. We had an organization which is called CIYOTA, that’s COBURWAS International Youth to Transform Africa. So that organization could teach us a lot of things. A lot from our country, how can we do—what we can do to change everybody’s situations. How we can overcome our problems, how we can teach people how to overcome their problems. Yeah, things like that. And that helped us because most of the holidays we had our matron. She could come from where we were studying and come to the camp and to organize all the girls together and teach us a lot of things. So many things, and then that could help people to understand and to see the step forward, what you can do or what you’re going to do in your future.
S: Mm-hmm. And what is it that you do want to do in your future? [both laugh]
E: Oh, yeah. My future—okay. I don’t go to school and I wanted to go to school, but it didn’t work because my age was—I was twenty years [when I came to the United States] and that’s when they said I can’t go to school here. My plans were to see my family grow up in good situation, and I was hoping to be a nurse and then to see if all these diseases can move away, or help people who are sick. Because you find in the camp we were not just living there, like all refugees. We were not all refugees. There are nationals. You find a refugee goes to the hospital—like, for example, I go to UPMC—or someone goes to Magee Hospital—and you find [in the resettlement camp] because you are a refugee, you are not a national, they treat you like—they don’t see—they bring that thing, like tribalism. Things like that. And then there was no cooperation, and there was no understanding between us and nationals. Even in the school, they would hit us. And they see us like—so many refugees are intelligent, but because they hit us, nothing could go on. And that’s what I was fighting for, and see if all people have to understand that we are one. Yeah.
S: So you’re hoping to one day be a nurse?
E: Yeah.
S: Okay, that’s a great goal to have. So you’re hoping to go back to school to do that?
E: Yeah, if I can. [both laugh]
S: Did you give birth to all of your children here in the United States?
E: I don’t have children. [laughing]
S: Oh, you don’t have children! Okay. [both laugh] But you hope to one day have children?
E: Yes.
S: Do you feel good about having children in the United States?
E: Mm-hmm.
S: How do you think that they’ll be treated?
E: Hmm, okay. As, like, my culture? Even though, here, they say you can’t—okay, you can’t tell your child “Do this,” or “You don’t have to do this.” Because the way we were raised in Africa—These young kids in Africa, you go to school, but—like, for example, things of phones. Even me too—I wouldn’t have a phone in school. There, if they get you with a phone, you bring your parents, they take your phone and you’re going to get it at the end of the year. Or still, they tell you not to bring a phone anymore. But here, a student can go to school, he or she can do anything with a phone and nothing will happen. Because here they don’t beat anyone. They don’t—how I see it, they don’t even advise students. You dress the way you want. You talk the way you want in class. You talk the way you want to your parents. But in Africa, no. And I don’t want that to happen to my kids.
S: So you think there’s not enough discipline in the United States?
E: Yeah. Yes, yes, yes, yes.
S: So when you raise your kids, you want them to--
E: Have discipline.
S: —have more of the African style of discipline?
E: Yeah. Yes.
S: Okay. Tell me more about the refugee application process. What was the hardest thing about it? [both laugh]
E: Oh. The hardest thing about it is about, like, “Why did you leave Congo to Uganda? Are you hoping to go back there?” Like, each time they ask “Why, why, why?” You give them reasons and reasons, but they still ask you and I was wondering why they keep on ask that question. Even here, they ask when we were applying for the green card. That’s the hardest thing I saw in there. Yeah.
S: Do you feel like they didn’t believe you?
E: Yeah.
S: Like they were suspicious?
E: Mm-hmm.
S: How did that make you feel?
E: I felt bad because we were just telling them the answer, but I think they wouldn’t accept the answer because they were not believing us, what we were saying or what we’re trying to mean. Like, to tell them or to say.
S: What did you bring with you when you came from Uganda?
E: Ah, from Uganda? We just came with the documents from the offices, luggage for clothes, and that’s all.
S: So all of your personal belongings, you had to leave in Uganda?
E: Yeah. Yeah, like the documents from the settlement, we left them at the office. Because you can’t bring them here. They can’t work, they can’t do anything. Yeah.
S: How did you feel when you left, knowing that you might never go back?
E: I felt bad because sometimes you have friends or family, friends or your relatives, and since they—I don’t know, maybe others are still in the Congo. Or others are still in Uganda. And then you feel like, Oh my God. I have spent almost two years doing this interview. What about these people who are going to remain here? Are they going to pass? Are they going to come too? But you find we do interviews the same day with people, and they do [everything] before us, and then we do after, but still we go before them. And I ask myself, Why? There’s no mistake, no one died, no one got pregnant—maybe that’s the one that stopped her or him. I don’t understand. And then I feel like that’s bad. Or, when are they going to come? Because the situation there isn’t good.
S: It doesn’t seem fair.
E: No.
S: So there was a little bit of guilt that you felt?
E: Yeah, because when we left, they took all the lands where people could harvest. Like, where you could say, “This is where we’ll be getting food to feed my children, to get school fees to take my children to school.” That couldn’t happen. Because they brought in so many refugees. Different tribes, different people. And then they took all the lands. As I say now, I don’t know how they feed. Because life is too tough, more than before. Because you can’t even get [land] where to harvest anything. I don’t know how they survive that. That’s the most problem, which is their hunger is something else.
S: So you came in September of 2016. Were you aware of the election that was happening when you came here?
E: No.
S: Okay. So did you pay attention—did you know when the election happened and Donald Trump became President?
E: Yeah.
S: What did you think about what he has to say about refugees and people in your situation?
E: Ah. Okay, Donald Trump has sometimes—I think, to me, he is not a good President because of so many things he does, so many things he speaks about refugees. It’s not good at all. You find sometimes people have to come here, but he cancel. No refugee, no people from this country who are supposed to come to United States. But before we came, I heard from people saying good about Obama, Barack Obama. I liked things about Barack Obama, he was good. I think Donald Trump, no. He is not good at all to me. I don’t know to other people. Yeah.
S: Did it make you feel optimistic that you were going to an America that had elected a black president? Did you feel some sort of shared identity there?
E: Not too bad at all. Yeah.
S: Okay. How is America different than you expected?
E: America is too different than I expected it to be, because the first thing I can say is school. Students go to school, nothing they pay. They don’t pay anything to go to school. And those people who go to college or universities, you find they have scholarships. But in Uganda, to get a scholarship, it’s not something you can expect to—you have to work hard to get that scholarship. I know even here you have to work hard to get the scholarship, but the way I see it here, it’s so easy. Yeah. And I like it here because if you have your kids, they go to school without any problem. The buses—nothing. They bring the bus, you don’t pay anything to go to school. And another thing I have seen different here is jobs. In Uganda, you can finish all your degrees. But you finish almost ten years, no job, no nothing. You ask yourself, what am I going to do or how am I going to survive? I thought I am going to school and I am going to get a job. Maybe I can sustain my family or my relatives or my siblings who are going to school. But nothing I can do. But here, you go to school, you don’t go to school, you get the job if you stay strong. And I like that because it helps so many people in terms of, like, you find people who have families in Africa and then because they get something small. Because here, you work, even if it’s one hour, you get something to put in your stomach or to pay for something, like your bills. But in Africa, you work for someone, even two months, you will not get paid.
S: Oh goodness.
E: That was so terrible and hard for us to come over it. Because you work for someone or you do something for someone and he or she will not understand the situation you are living in. But here, I was happy to be here because you find all people are the same. You got the job even if you have studied, you have gone to school, you have finished your degrees, but all people in work at the job, they are all the same. They handle them the same way. They will not say here, “Oh you, you finished your degrees. This one did not go to school even a single day.” But they will see how you are doing your job, how you are respecting your time, how you’re doing everything. Even someone can go to school and another one will not go to school, but you will find that the person who didn’t go to school is more than that one who went to school, here. That’s what I have seen here.
And the reason why people like it here, when they go to work—you know, us refugees, we are used to farming. Farming was really our job, that’s what we could do, that’s why we could get everything we have to sustain our families. So people get here and you find someone who was born here, you go to the same job, but you find him or her to that job, but she quit the job before you. And then you ask yourself, Why are they like this? Why are they don’t want to work? You ask yourself so many questions. Why these people don’t want to work? We like to work and we like to get money. I don’t know if it’s because what we passed through in the past. I ask myself so many questions about that because you work and you see other people not working. And then ‘you ask yourself, so how does these people feed or pay their bills? Because you go to the company to do something, you see your family, you want your family to be better. To be in a good situation. But you find for them, they don’t care. But for us, it means a lot to us. It means really a lot to us because we have passed through many things which we can’t even dare to face again, anymore. Because here, you work, you have savings, you get food stamps. That—we don’t know how to feel. That’s why we are always playing to say, if those people who are still in Africa, they can come, maybe if they can pay the bills, they get where to sleep, but still they get something to eat. That’s what we are happy for. Because it’s really different here. And I like it, the way it is. I cannot get money to save, but I will get money to pay where I live. Instead of living outside the house, or I be homeless with feed for people who are outside. And we thank God that God has enabled us to live here or he has enabled us to get in United States. And that’s what we are supposed to think about—or to feel like, we have to, like, work hard and solve all the problems you have faced in the past.
S: Mm-hmm. Well, since you brought it up—can you tell me more about your faith and how that’s helped you get through all of the challenging parts of your life?
E: Like, for me, in Africa, I went to school from low level to the highest because I was almost completing my high school and then we had to come here, so I had to stop. So during my studies, my mom couldn’t do anything. You know, she has a problem with her leg. So I can say, time for weeding. She can go to people’s farm and then she goes to weed for people so she can get—because that’s the work she can try her best to see if she can get something to take us to school or buy books or buy uniforms. She could go to people’s farm and weed for them, get money, get food—we were going to take to school because we were contributing food to take to school they would be cooking for us. It was really hard to get school fees because I would even spend one month staying in the hostel because I was staying in the boarding at school, so I could stay one month, no school fees. And that was really hard for me to understand. I was almost dropping out of school because of the situation. I was feeling for my mom, and my dad is too old, he can’t do anything. My mom, she can’t do anything, it’s just like, what is this? What am I going to do for my life? How am I going to overcome all this? So however I overcome this all: When I got here, I got the first job at Homewood Suites in hotel. So I could make the beds, clean, and then that job helped me because I would help my parents to pay the bills—like, house rent, buy things in the house, furniture, TV, and buy so many things or assist them in paying the rent and then pay the travel document. Because they had not started getting the social security income. My dad was the one who was getting the social security income, and me and my brother—he’s not here—we were the ones who were working. So we had to do our best to see everything was going good. And that’s when I overcome all the problems by getting the job, doing the job, going to work, and I felt good because I felt myself that all the problems are gone. Because I’m getting a job, I’m going to be getting paid, not the way [it was in Africa] that I spend one week, one month, no nothing—I can’t do anything for myself, I can’t buy anything for myself. Yeah, so I was really happy to see that everything worked.
S: And you religion—has that been a big part of what has sustained you?
E: Pardon?
S: Your religion—God? How do you feel that that’s been important in your journey?
E: Yeah, it is more important because there is nothing you can do without the strength from God. So whatever you do, is God’s strength. Because God leads us to do anything we do. Because you can just wake up, like I’m the one who made myself to wake up in the morning. Or I am the one who made myself to get the job because I know English or I went to school—No. Without God, you cannot do anything. That’s what I believe. And with God, everything is possible.
S: Do you feel like your faith is just as important here as it was back in Uganda?
E: No. [My faith in God] was still good, even in Uganda. Because if we could sleep or if we could go to someone’s farm and you do for that person something and you get paid, that was God. God’s plan. And God knew what was going to happen. You wake up in the morning, you go to someone’s farm, you do something, and you don’t know what he or she is going to do for you. But you find yourself getting so many things from each and every day. People were not the same. There are people who were rich and people who were not rich. So you wake up in the morning, someone has a big shop or a big boutique. But you go to farm for someone. And that person who has a shop has everything—every kind of food, every kind of clothes—but he cannot give you even a cloth, like slippers to put on, or salt to put in food. But you go to farm for someone, and that person will give you plenty things to sustain your family in a couple weeks or couple month. And you ask yourself, why me? Why is this happening to me, and it’s not happening to the other person, yet that person is rich? And that—I see that was God. Yeah.
S: Okay. How have you been treated by Americans since you’ve gotten here?
E: Okay. Since I got here, Americans—like, especially black Americans—were not good at all up to now. Because you don’t do anything—you don’t talk to them, you don’t do anything—but you find they are frustrating you. Like, disturbing you every time. Before we came here in Northview Heights, we were living in Crafton. And we had this neighbor who was too terrible to our house. Each and every minute, each and every second, her kids would come to our door, knocking, putting—rubbing eggs on the door, putting stones on the way, coming to see—our parents sat outside, like in front of the door—start pushing stones to them or trying to beat them, kind of that thing. And I was like, Why? Why is this happening? We have so many neighbors here, but why is this happening? Why us? Why—what did we do to them? We didn’t do anything. We didn’t talk to them any, like, something bad, or were we mean to them? No. And I was asking myself, why? And then when you got here, it came the same thing--
[Elizabeth's mother passes through the room and exchanges a hello with the interviewer]
E: It became the same thing again here, and then we put it to the police. And when we put it to the police, they handled the case, and now we are fine. I thank God that everything went good.
S: Do you think that they were harassing you because you’re a refugee?
E: Yes.
S: Wow, okay. I’m sorry to hear that.
E: It’s okay.
S: I’m glad that you’re in a better neighborhood now. Do you like it better over here?
E: Yeah, we like it because here you can sit inside if you—like, before we came, we were still sitting here, remaining inside, but still they would come and disturb us. But since we called the police, they cannot come and disturb us. And here, if you don’t go out, you won’t see anything bad. Even if it’s not going to happen to you, but you see it’s happening to other people. So, like, from Monday to Friday or Saturday, I can sit here and not go out. Yeah. And I don’t know what is happening out, if no one comes and disturbs me at the door. But if you go out, sometimes you get injured. Because here—okay. Here, I think, is not a good place. It’s because people like it here because these houses are for government. So they like it here because sometimes when you’re not working or you were sent back home to wait when they want to call you back at work, you go and explain to the office and they will understand and the government will have to help you pay your rent, or something you have to pay. You can’t. You leave the job, you know where to get rent from. So I like it here, but it’s always violence here. Guns every day, people’s car—they’re always having so many problems, cases like fighting every day.
S: In this neighborhood, specifically?
E: Mm-hmm.
S: So you don’t feel safe, is that what you’re saying?
E: Yeah, but I feel safe if no one disturbs me. If you stay inside, nothing. But sometimes they fight each other. They don’t fight refugees. But since we reported to the police, nothing. They didn’t do anything again up to now. And that’s—we are happy and we are good. We are now good.
S: Are there other refugees in your community?
E: Here?
S: Mm-hmm.
E: So many refugees. So many refugees. We are like—I think most of the houses are for refugees here.
S: Do you spend a lot of time with other refugees?
E: Mm-hmm. Yeah, sometimes they come to our house to visit.
S: What language do you speak with other refugees?
E: Kinyarwanda, Swahili, yeah.
S: Is it nice to have a little bit of your home back when you speak your native language?
E: Mm-hmm.
S: Do you think you’ll always speak your native language?
E: Um, yeah.
S: If you have kids one day, will you also teach them those languages, or will you only teach them English?
E: No, no, no. They have to know my mother tongue. Yeah. Yeah.
S: So can you tell me in your opinion, what can Americans do better to make refugees feel at home?
E: I don’t really know, but I feel like we have to be one. Whether we’re black American or not black American, we are one person. Yeah. I just want us to feel that—feel like we are brothers and sisters. Everything you do, we are all the same.
S: Do you hope to one day apply for citizenship?
E: Mm-hmm.
S: How will it make you feel to be able to call yourself an American?
E: Okay, I’ll be happy, but still I will want to go to my country too.
S: So you’ll be happy to be an American, but you will still feel in your heart to be Congolese?
E: Yes. [laughs] Yeah.
S: Do you think that’s a good thing, to have these two identities?
E: Mm-hmm. Yes.
S: And you hope that your kids will also have those?
E: Yes, yes.
S: Are you married, Elizabeth?
E: No, no. I’m still single. Yeah.
S: Are you hoping to also find a spouse who is African, or would you like to marry an American?
E: No, African.
S: Definitely African, okay. [both laugh]
E: Yeah, yeah.
S: So, do you remember how old you were when you first found out that you were a refugee?
E: Okay, I was like nine years old.
S: And how did you find out?
E: My parents.
S: How did you feel when they told you?
E: I felt so bad, because of the way the situation started or the things we passed through and how we became refugees. Yes.
S: And so at that point, you knew that they were trying to find a new place for you to live?
E: Mm-hmm.
S: Where were you hoping that you would ultimately end up?
E: I didn’t know. Yeah, yeah.
S: Did you think maybe America, or some European country, or Canada?
E: Um, I thought like in Europe. Because I couldn’t think about, like, American, or to be in America or Canada or any other place. Because I thought they would take us to other countries.
S: And when you finally received the invitation, how did you feel?
E: I felt so happy. Yeah, I was so happy.
S: How long was it between when you got the invitation and when you finally left?
E: It was one year and a half.
S: So lots of waiting. Okay. And what was the most memorable part about your journey to America?
E: I was like—okay, we came because like—I remember when they called us, “The visa is ready,” and then we have to go where we were supposed to wait for the dates to fly. I felt so good and I was so happy but still I felt so bad because most people, they sent them back because they had sent them the invitation that they’re supposed to leave the resettlement, but unfortunately when they got where we’re supposed to take the bus from, they told them, “You’re not going.” And that made me so sad and people cried. People felt so bad because sometimes you find people don’t have money for shopping, but you have like a shelter, and then you see you get someone who is maybe looking for some—like, a plot to buy. And then you sell, so they can get something to dress up your kids or yourself. And then you find people, like, someone sold his land so they can get money and buy some clothes and stuff for the family, but unfortunately when he got to the office, they told him, “You’re not going.” And that was really so sad because he couldn’t get any other place to go or where to live. Because we didn’t know when or what time they’re going to call him back to go.
S: So you didn’t really believe it until you got here?
E: Yeah. I couldn’t believe. Because I could see how people—even where we were waiting for the days to come, people were—every day they were doing medical check-up, and then you take medications—every day, every morning you go for medical check-up and you find some people, we will find some people have spent three weeks in hotel and I was saying, “Oh God, I don’t know if we are going.” Because before we came, my mom and my young sister, they went first and they remain with my dad. Because my brother had came before us. So they took my sister and my brother for TB test. My sister and my mother for TB test. And I was like, Oh my God. If they’re taking them first and then they find that they have the TB, we are not going. Because they have to be recovered before they allow us to go. I was praying so hard asking God to help us because the situation we were living in, it was no good. But I thank God that he answered our prayers and they didn’t find anything. Then we found them there and we found so many people have spent, like, two weeks, three weeks, four days, and then the flight—the flight went and they’re still treating them and asking God to help us and come over that. And that’s when we saw ourselves here. And we couldn’t believe we are here until we got out at the airport. We saw our caseworkers and everything, that’s when we believed that we are now in the United States. Because I was saying, maybe something could happen to us, and they say, “Oh, now we are in Kenya or now we are in Europe and we need to go back.” I was not believing anything before we get here.
S: But you’re here now!
E: Yeah, we’re here! [laughs]
S: I’m so glad you’re here.
E: Yeah, I’m so happy too.
S: Is there anything else you want to share with us about your life?
E: Um, about myself—like, me, the way I live—my family, my parents, my siblings—I just want to see everyone in a good life. Like, yes—to come. That’s what I feel like. And I feel like for now, I can’t talk about studies because my age—I’m now twenty-three, and I don’t feel like I can go back to school at this moment, because I’m now taking care of my dad until maybe when I get married. So I can’t talk about studies. And the problem is taking care of my dad—I thank God for giving me that job because they pay me for it. So I left the job I was doing, I’ve now two months been doing this job, and it’s really a good job because I have time to spend with my parents, I have time to ask them what I have to ask them, maybe about the past to know everything about the past or to know what step forward or how I can get to my future. Yeah. That is really good and what I like about this job. Even though my dad can’t remember anything, but my mom does. Because now my dad is ninety-one years old.
S: Oh, gosh. Does he have dementia?
E: What is that?
S: Memory loss?
E: Yeah.
S: So you’re his full-time caretaker.
E: Mm-hmm.
S: That’s very noble work and I know that your parents have done a lot for you and your siblings.
E: Yeah. And that’s—I’m happy that I can do all they ask. Maybe if it is two years to take care of him, I think I will get blessings from them. Because I need to do what they did for me, even though I’m not going to complete it. But I pray to God to help me, I do my best. Maybe I do, like, fifty percent of what they did for me when I was still young or when I was still in school. And then I can make them happy. Yeah.
S: That’s wonderful. Well, thank you so much for speaking with me, Elizabeth.
E: You’re welcome.
S: It’s been very nice to hear your story.
E: Yeah, thank you.
[End of Interview]