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Ahmedi writes that no one knew who was going to take all these refugees to America, but she says that “most of us Afghans didn’t really think about it” (134). Their assumption was that it was the US government, but it turns out it was a private Christian organization called World Relief. When Ahmedi declared that she would apply for herself and her mother, people scoffed at her determination. Local people said that the Americans wanted widows and orphans because they wanted to import slaves to work for American families. Her mother believed what she was hearing and argued with Ahmedi not to take her to America. Ahmedi explained all that she had experienced and seen in Germany, arguing that the local people did not know what they were talking about.
Eventually, her mother agreed that they should apply to go. They had to apply in a posh neighborhood in Quetta. When the appointed day arrived, the Americans were wholly unprepared for the crowd of hundreds of Afghans hoping to apply to immigrate to the US. The Americans were told they needed to find a different place to process the refugees. They moved the operation to a compound in the desert outside of the city. The location was not on a bus line, and it was too far to walk. A local woman organized shared rides out to the application location. The woman paid a man a set fee to drive out to the location and wait until the end of the day and bring everyone home. The more riders she signed up, the less each rider had to pay. In this way, they arrived early in the morning at a desolate location in the desert, where hundreds of others were already in line, with thousands more to follow.
Ahmedi and her mother did not get close to the front of the line on the first or second days. On the third day, they were able to make their way forward in the crowd. On that day, an official announced that they were taking the wounded and disabled first. He scanned the crowd, and his eye fell on Ahmedi, who waved her arm to hold his attention. The man ushered Ahmedi and her mother into the compound. Inside, they were given an appointment slip for an interview at a later date in Quetta. They needed to return two weeks later to be interviewed a second time. At the end of the second interview, they learned the program had accepted them.
The World Relief charity conducted the interviews in Quetta. In order for Ahmedi and her mother to actually come to America, however, they had to receive approval from the US Embassy in Islamabad. They had to travel back the way they had come when they entered Pakistan, through the Taliban stronghold of Peshawar. If they made it to Islamabad, and their application was successful, then the embassy would pay for their return trip to Quetta. If they were unsuccessful, however, they would have to figure out how to get home themselves. They managed to scrimp together the money for train tickets. After arriving in Islamabad, they found a taxicab to take them to the hotel, where they were to spend the night before their interview. Two Pakistan motorcycle policemen pulled over their cab. The policemen correctly guessed that they were refugees heading to the embassy and demanded that Ahmedi and her mother hand over all their money. The taxi driver was Afghan, and he interceded, eventually convincing the policemen to accept only a couple hundred rupees, instead of all of their money. They made it to the hotel, had a good meal, and a good night’s sleep.
At the embassy the next day, they were interviewed and then informed that they had been accepted. They were shown a video about America and then given their train tickets home and told to await further instruction. This was August 2001. A few weeks after they had settled back into their old life in Quetta, the events of September 11, 2001 happened. All flights to America were canceled, and the refugee relief program was put on hold. Seven months later, out of the blue, they received word that their planned trip was on again, and they would leave the very next week.
Although there is not one universal refugee experience, Ahmedi recounts aspects of their journey that are all too common for refugees, migrants, and immigrants trying to change their life circumstances. One thing that emerges in these chapters is the refugee information network. Although there was an advertisement on television, Ahmedi and her mother never saw or received direct information about the World Relief opportunity. The news simply passed by word of mouth throughout the region. This informal refugee information network, of course, can spread misinformation as well, as in the fears about Americans seeking to enslave Afghan widows. In real time, each leg of the refugee journey is fraught with danger and uncertainty and requires both smart planning and savvy impromptu adjustments on the fly.
Each leg of their journey cost money that they did not have, posed dangers for two women traveling alone, and continually put them at the mercy of strangers. Particularly in the region between Islamabad and the Afghanistan border, refugees were numerous and readily identifiable, making them easy targets for those who might exploit their predicament. Ahmedi and her mother experienced both ends of this spectrum of vulnerability. Their taxi driver was kind and helpful. He forfeited his fare to help them escape the exploitative police officers. On their way to the train home to Quetta, the cab driver took them to a market so they could buy provisions for their journey, but they missed the train. Another Pakistani police officer in the train station interceded and helped them get their tickets replaced for the next day. Ahmedi writes of her fear that this officer would attempt to take advantage of them as the others had done. “And it just goes to show that you can never tell. I feared that policeman on sight […] But this one showed us nothing but compassion” (163).
Ahmedi also demonstrates how refugees are never completely disempowered during these fraught journeys. When they were in the Islamabad hotel, a waiter brought food to their room. Ahmedi recognized it as leftovers from other guests and told him to take it back and to bring them a menu. She figured that if World Relief had paid for the hotel and a meal, then the hotel was trying to exploit their humble and desperate condition. She figured correctly, and the waiter returned with a menu and brought them a fresh meal.
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