On Monday I will be leading a Bible study group of Iranian singles without an interpreter for the first time. Does this mean that I have learned Farsi (the Persian language) so well that I no longer need an interpreter? No. It just means that both of my interpreters will be away on holiday. I have actually only learned a few words, so unless I'm going to spend the whole evening saying hello, goodbye and God bless you, we are going to have to get by in English. Fortunately, however, they all know at least a little bit of English, so with some effort I think we will manage to communicate. Rather than try to teach anything deep, however, I will probably share a few very simple thoughts and then share pictures of Africa and possibly show a video of our work in Tanzania.
The work with the Iranian group, which I have been doing as a practical placement for my college course since last autumn, has proven to be a wonderful experience. I have been working on writing a report on the work for the college this week, so I've been spending a lot of time reflecting on it. It's a very different culture than any I had worked with before, so I've learned a lot. The following is an example of a typical experience as described in one of the drafts of my report:
On one of the first weeks of Placement, I walked into a flat in Sighthill for a dinner with the singles’ group. I started to enter the dining room directly but quickly realised everyone was taking their shoes off and I still had mine on. "This is an Iranian home" someone said. "We remove our shoes here." Fair enough. I like going without shoes at home anyhow as I find it more relaxing. I couldn't help but to smile inwardly, however, as I remembered a home I had once stayed at in the Highlands where the head of the house got very offended when he saw me come to the breakfast table without my shoes on. He accused me of being very rude and inconsiderate. Here in this Iranian home I would have been rude and inconsiderate to keep my shoes on! Its amazing what a difference these little details can make from one place to another!
There was a large dining table in the middle of the room. It was a nice, sturdy table which was covered with a lovely tablecloth. The scent of spicy food wafted in from the kitchen as we drank black tea and talked (with the help of Daniel, my interpreter for the evening). Then an announcement was made that it was time to eat. As one of the men started bringing the food into the room, the others moved the table out of the way and spread a cloth on the floor. Then everyone sat down on the floor and prepared to eat what would prove to be a fabulous Iranian feast. The above excerpt from just one evening with this group gives just a hint of the cultural flavour. It truly is a beautiful culture, and I am only beginning to scrape the surface of its multi-faceted character. I also love to listen to my Iranian friends sing in church on Sundays. The middle-eastern sound is beautiful! However, the best part is the people themselves. They seem to me to be such genuine, humble people that they are a true joy to be around.
Most of the people in the church are asylum seekers. In case anyone wonders what an
asylum seeker is, the official United Nations definition is:
"Any person, who owing to a well founded fear of being persecuted for reasons of Race, Religion, Nationality, Membership of a particular Social Group or Political opinion, is outside the country of his Nationality, and is unable to, or owing to such fear, is unwilling to avail himself/herself of the protection of that country."Of course, even though many are fleeing persecution in their own lands, they don't always escape being persecuted in other ways when they come to Britain. A recent article states: "Ironically, the evidence suggests that people trying to find protection from victimisation in their home country, are likely to become victims of crime in the UK. There have been countless attacks on asylum seekers, around Britain, including the murder of an asylum seeker in Glasgow in 2001. The murder in Glasgow prompted the UN High Commissioner for Refugees to condemn the British media for provoking racial hatred." (cited 30/4/05 at www.cre.gov.uk/gdpract/refuge.html)
According to statistics there were
5587 asylum seekers in Glasgow in 2004. Most of them live in poverty, and they are often treated very badly. There is also a constant atmosphere of fear in their communities as they wait to see which ones will be accepted and which ones will be deported. In this uncertain situation in which so many find themselves, I've found that friendship is the greatest gift that I can give them. Of course, I'm convinced that this is usually the case in any culture, but in this case where people are caught between two cultures and often uncertain as to where they belong, it seems even more so. Exiled into a land so far from home, they need to know that they belong somewhere and that they are loved. This gift of friendship is, I'm sure, more important than any lesson I could teach or any event I could organise. It's also a gift that pays back in dividends that can't even be measured because they give their friendship in return.
On Monday I will be leading a Bible study group of Iranian singles without an interpreter for the first time. It won't matter though if we fully understand each others' words because we've learned to share a common language that doesn't require words. It's the language of friendship, a language that knows no boundaries of race, language or culture.
