Stranger in a Stranger Land

I stopped by the Health Department this morning to get the results of my annual HIV screening. Still negative after all these years. Yeah, I know, condoms and all, but they aren't foolproof, so it's still a good idea. Interesting yet disturbing: along with the results, they give you a free, ten minute phone card. Wonder how many minutes you get if you're positive?...

Anyway, in the waiting room, a social worker was talking to two men and their families. I think they may have been from Sudan, but it's hard to say, as Lincoln is an INS resettlement community for a number of different countries. They were fresh off the proverbial boat; only one of them spoke much English, and neither seemed very clear on where their new houses were or what state they were in.

It seems they were there to receive complete physical examinations, the results of which they'd have to take to the social worker next week. The children, she warned them, would have to receive five immunizations each. And they'd probably cry.

The sociologist in me was facinated by all this. Despite living in a community with a large immigrant (and refugee) population, I haven't had much contact with them. How does a person cope with the culture shock of moving to a new country, much less fleeing to a new country? What are the legal hoops they have to jump through? What are the steps necessary to acclimate them to their new lives, and whose job is it to do so? How do they go about finding jobs? Do they like it here or not? I wonder such things.

Fun fact: there are two, four-way intersections a block apart in the Haymarket. One has four stop signs reading "FOUR WAY STOP"; the other, four stop signs reading "ALL WAY STOP". I feel as if we're being test marketed somehow.