I don't usually get nervous but it was a little obvious. I called Carla twice to let her know the refugee family's flight was early. Julie, Nathan, Melissa and I left the house about 10:30 PM. We expected the family no earlier than midnight but I had a few things to do. When we go there, I attached the queen bed's headboard the frame. I was missing one nut. I brought my pipe wrench to tackle the bathroom sink drain but it was dislodged already. It is not fixed but at least it is not stuck closed. I paced around turning on the lights to look in closets and turned them off again to save on the electric bill.

They have 10 extra tubes of toothpaste, eight bars of soap and nine toothbrushes. I brought in two folding chairs. Those were needed. There is already a vacuum cleaner so the one I brought goes back home. I asked Julie to get the dinner in the oven - 325 degrees should be fine for an hour. Melissa got the Go-Phone unpacked. I spent ten minutes on my phone trying to get it activated. I got distracted so Melissa started the process over and got the $25.00 card credited to the account.

We hear a car pull up. I go outside and greet the people. They are refugees from Bhutan but not our family. We find out later that they are a brother and sister from the same refugee camp in Nepal that arrived on the same flight. The girl from Lutheran Social Services hurried them past our open door because their apartment is not furnished nearly as well as our church-sponsored apartment. She did not want them to see.

Carla calls. They are on the way from the airport. They are just entering the Deck Park Tunnel. The kids, at least, are hungry. I find out later that the family is silent. Ganga, he interpreter is telling Carla her story. She has been in the US for 7 months. She was rescued from the refugee camp just in time. The leaders of the camp sensed her desire to take the offer to go to the US despite their insistence to stay and press for repatriation from the Nepal refugee camps to southern Bhutan. The leaders are insistent that they were wrongly forced from the country as a kind of ethnic cleansing. They were accused of being illegal immigrants from Nepal. They spoke a different language and tended to be Hindus instead of Buddhists. The authorities were after here, Ganga recalls. Carla senses Ganga is not telling everything. Her ordeal was likely much worse that what she says.

When Carla calls, we spring into action. We set the table for dinner. More pacing and turning lights on and off. I decide we should have the bedroom lights off when they arrive. The gal from Lutheran Social Services is back, "They are here." She scoots out of the apartment. Carla comes in with armloads of last minute items. Behind here is Ganga and then the family. The place their palms together in a greeting. I immediately return the gesture not sure if I should have my hands at chest level or face level. Just do it. Everyone is shy-- obviously tired. I learn later they have been traveling for 44 hours! Their dress has a hint of India but not too different. On their shirts are large white labels indicating their immigrant status.

Tika, the dad has a laminated tag on a string around his neck. Carla takes the girls to their bedroom. I show Tima and Kamal the master bedroom. Everything is new to them - light switches, toilets, water faucets, clothes hangers, separate bedrooms, gas stove, toilet paper, mop for the floors, vacuum for the carpet, folding chairs, drawers in dressers, bunk bed, laundry baskets, locking doors, closing windows, unplugging the swag lamp in the dining area, pilot lights, shower, tub, toothpaste, shampoo...

Tika points to his chapped lips. I look everywhere for chapstick. I settle on a bottle of lotion. As I struggle to get the pump top to work, I wonder what it would have been like for Tika to figure it out. How can he know what bottle of what is used for what? I pump some onto my hand and use my finger to spread it on my lips. How can I tell him not to ingest it? I keep pointing to things and try to explain what it is for. He keeps saying "Thank you." It becomes overwhelming how much this family will be asked to learn just to make use of all the stuff we gave them.

Ganga shows the women the bathroom. She is explaining everything in their language. I think about the gas stove. Safety is primary for this first day. I show Tika how to turn on the gas. Then I show him the pilot light. Is this too much information too fast? Probably. Kamal, the mom comes in. She is very interested in the kitchen. I start to show her dishes in the cupboards, towels in the drawer. We get stuck on baggies. Squeeze the top it seals shut. I doubt she understands, then she says, "Fruit." Yes! Then aluminum foil. How do explain that aluminum foil covers hot things. The dinner! I show her the dinner warming in the oven with foil covering. Julie and I move it to the table. They won't sit down to eat. Too much to learn.

I wander back to the girl's bedroom. On the way past the hall closet, Tika explains to Kamal that the vacuum is for the floors. Tika finds a mop and recognizes that the mop is for the tile floors and the vacuum is for the carpets. Kamal gets it. Back in the girl's bedroom, Tika wants me to explain to the girls how the lights work. One lamp is on a swith. The other requires turning the switch at the base of the bulb. Purna tries it but fumbles. Uma gets it quicker. I ask them which bed they have claimed. Pruna, the oldest has claimed the single bed. Tara, the youngest wants the top bunk. Uma, the middle claims the bottom bunk. The only thing they have ever known is a refugee camp. That has been their life since 1991. What a transition. What a challenge.

We try to say goodbye. A neighbor arrives. Kamal is excited to see a familiar face. If we don't leave soon, they will be too tired to eat. Between all of us, the windows are closed, the door is locked. I forget my papers and squeeze back in the living room. The door closes. They are home. We head back to ours.