The only way to love America’s government efficiency
Trent Reedy
In early August I told you about my Afghan friend Jawad Arash, whom I met during my time in the war in Afghanistan and who, after a long ordeal fleeing the deadly Taliban, finally arrived on July 25, safe with his family, in Indiana. When we spoke recently, I asked him about his family’s acclimation to America.
The long ordeal following the betrayal of Afghanistan was difficult. Jawad’s wife struggled to cope with the terrible situation: forced to flee her home, she and her husband with their three young kids were living in a one-room Pakistani apartment with no air conditioning. It was unsafe for the children to play outside. With little hope of escape to safety, she sank into depression, for which a doctor prescribed medication.
ALL THE THING THE HOUSE CAN’T DO WITHOUT A SPEAKER
Jawad couldn’t sleep most nights, worrying about Pakistan deporting his family to Afghanistan, where the Taliban hunted him.
Now, in America, Mrs. Arash has finished the process of getting off the medication, happy her children can go outside and play in a nice park, and she no longer fears losing her husband each time he goes out.
“I can finally sleep at night,” Jawad said. “It’s amazing.”
His youngest two children don’t sleep quite as soundly. Used to sleeping on the floor, Afghan style, they frequently fall out of bed. Then they cry and have a hard time getting back to sleep.
The other pain in the butt involves American toilets. “This thin paper,” Jawad lamented. “My son, he complains there’s no water to clean up. He hates the paper.”
This helped me understand the purpose of the little hose I’d see in some Afghan bathrooms during my time in the war. “Can’t help you,” I said to Jawad. “Toilet paper is the American way.”
Jawad doesn’t mind. He celebrated America using a phrase I never imagined I’d hear unironically: “government efficiency.” He went to an office to get a Social Security card. “The man was so nice!” Jawad was amazed that the official demanded no bribes but rather handed over the Social Security card for the listed fee.
But America is far from perfect, as Jawad soon discovered when he had to visit the Indiana Bureau of Motor Vehicles. “I had a very bad experience with the BMV people. They really killed me, nagging about every single thing.”
The Indiana BMV woman objected to the flimsy paper upon which Afghans print their driving licenses but not to the fact that said license only certifies one as equipped for random navigation through lawless Afghan traffic chaos. Then she demanded a translation of the document from someone other than Jawad, who is probably one of the best translators in America. He had to come back the next day with a different translation. Then the BMV official wanted all four pages of his immigration form, even though only the first was specific to Jawad and the rest were pre-printed instructions. “Tough,” said the BMV lady. “Bring all four pages back tomorrow.” When he returned the next day, a different BMV person said they didn’t need the instruction pages. After several days and many trips, Jawad was finally able to take the test and get a valid Indiana driving license.
“That’s America,” I said. “I’ve never encountered a pleasant person at the driving license station.”
Jawad is brilliant and hardworking, but his family is poor because our government hasn’t allowed him to work outside one employer, Indiana State University. Jawad loves the caring, dedicated faculty where he works, and he is excited because of a recent program in which he may be authorized to work elsewhere (for which he must pay $410). It’s unfair. People like Jawad, who worked with our military in Afghanistan and who choose to follow our immigration laws, face these crazy and expensive obstacles. Yet Jawad will do whatever he must for his family, and this old soldier is desperately relieved to know that although they face many struggles, he and his family will be OK.
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Trent Reedy, author of several books including Enduring Freedom, served as a combat engineer in the Iowa National Guard from 1999 to 2005, including a tour of duty in Afghanistan.
*Some names and call signs in this story may have been changed due to operational security or privacy concerns.