The Tower of Babel

Today I was sitting in my office and heard some pretty crazy conversations going on outside of my office – and couldn’t understand a word that was said. It just reminded me of how amazing it is to work where I work. In any given day, I interact with coworkers from the Congo, Italy, Mexico, Iran, Nepal, Armenia, China, Iraq, Rwanda, Burma, Vietnam, Peru, Sudan, Eritrea, and Bhutan. Standing in the middle of the receptionist area, it is possible to hear spoken Catonese, Arabic, Somali, Spanish, Russian, Armenian, Korean, Swahili, Vietnamese, Mandarin, MaiMai, Kirundi, French, Keriwanda, Burundi, Sarenni, Burmese, Karen, Nepali, Kinywarwanda, Liberian, Kakwa, Lingala, Ewe, Farsi, Dinka, German, Italian, Romane, Serbian, Kigrinya, Kunama, and Japanese. It’s safe to say that I can hardly ever pinpoint exactly what language is being spoken. I can’t even pronounce many of the names of the languages, let alone any words in them.  The other day I took the elevator with a Nepalese caseworker and her clients and my Peruvian client. I was speaking Spanish to my client, she was speaking Nepali to her client, and periodically we would speak to each other in English. The insanity of it all struck me in that moment. I couldn’t help but smile.

It’s fun to try to pick up bits and pieces of the languages spoken around the office, even if I do butcher everything. When I interned with the Burundi community last January, I learned a little bit of Kirundi and when I see my Rwandan case worker friend, I always say hello in Kirundi. She then asks me how I am, and I reply that I am good. Thank goodness she also speaks English or else our interaction as a whole would be terribly repetitive and shallow. I have a Mexican co-worker down the hall from me. He insists on improving my Spanish, and any time I speak to him in English he quickly replies, “No hablo el ingles. Que me dijiste?”  (I don’t understand English. What did you say to me?) I then have to respond in Spanish. It keeps me on my toes! Although it helps even more to have to speak English throughout the day to my clients on the phone. Sometimes I have such long and frequent conversations in Spanish, that by the end of the day, I basically put up the white flag, my tongue twisted in knots. They think it’s funny. They should be glad there’s a phone between us.

I can’t help but think about how amazing this office is. Despite its MANY disfunctionalities, it is filled with people who are all trying to make a difference, social service case workers (all of whom are refugees themselves) sacrificing so much to help the helpless in their very own communities. If American-born social workers experience burn-out after a few years, these refugee case-workers should have been burnt out after week one. Because they are helping their friends and clients, the work is never done. And despite all they have sacrificed already in their home countries and here as newly arrived refugees, they continue to give so much. It’s inspiring.

Yes, I work in the Tower of Babel. And yes, I partially wrote this post so that at the end of the week, when I’m ready to just throw my hands up in the air and burn my office down, I can be reminded of the good things.

Namaste.