Joyous Interactions

05/10/24

A couple of years ago I opened my home to someone fleeing a war torn country.

Before I go any further with this, I’d just like it noted that I don’t like it when people suggest this act was somehow above and beyond, noble, or extraordinary.

I’d watched horrific scenes unfolding on my TV and simply thought, “If such an awful thing was to happen here, I’d want someone to at least offer my grandchildren sanctuary. I can do that now for someone’s son or daughter, someone else’s grandchild.“

And so I did.

I refuse to believe that expressing compassion makes me super special because if I accept that, then I’m also accepting that such compassion is rare in the world. I truly don’t believe that to be the case.

And that, in a nutshell, is how Simon came to be in my home.

When he arrived, there was something of a language barrier, and we relied almost exclusively on a translation app to communicate.

I felt bad for him, how isolating it must be when you don’t understand conversations going on around you. But my lord, has he worked hard to master English – these days there’s only the very occasional, specific word that requires the app.

He has always been a quiet and respectful guest, careful to clean and tidy after himself, considerate in his use of communal areas.

Since January, when he realised EH had left, he’s really come out of his shell (interesting correlation), slowly becoming something of a caring big brother crossed with excellent housemate.

He gently checks on my wellbeing, without being invasive.

He understands and supports my purging and renewal of the home. He offers practical help with heavy lifting type things, but gets my need to do this renovation by myself as far as possible.

He welcomes me home if he’s in when I get back and chats conversationally about the day.

And he makes me laugh – goddamn but he makes me laugh!

So today, he’s just got back from a trip to Germany and he’s showing me photos of this cool pub he went to; you’re basically sitting in the centre of a farmyard, with all these animals in pens, right next to the tables.

He shows me videos of petting the pigs, and the cows, and then he says, “These ones scared me.”

I was expecting something big and muscular, say a bison, or maybe a huge billy goat. He turned his camera to me and showed me a pen full of….

….rabbits!

His protestations that, “They did jumping when I didn’t expect“, didn’t help.

I laughed until tears were rolling.

Fortunately he took it with the affection it held.

Later, we’re both in the kitchen, me making a cup of tea, Simon getting his dinner out of the oven.

“What are you having?” I ask.

“Umm…I don’t know“, Simon replied.

I felt a giggle rising inside me. I mean, why would you select and cook a ready meal without knowing what it is?

“I think maybe chicken?” Simon said, doubtfully; he was poking at it now, to show me what was under some kind of crumbly topping.

I peered over, “Are you sure that’s chicken?“

I headed towards the recycling bin to look at the outer packaging, “It looks a lot like apple crumble to me.“

Sure enough, it was an apple crumble.

I imagined Simon would be a bit disappointed to find his chicken dinner was actually dessert.

Silly me.

He gets this big grin on his face, shrugs, and says, “It’s a discovery.”

How can that attitude not make you smile?

One more anecdote, from a prior occasion, which again indicates his fun, positive attitude, as well as his dry humour:

I bought a new microwave/grill/convection oven and, having explained the basics to him, I handed him the instruction manual.

He looked at me a little confused, looked down at the booklet, looked back up at me, and with a big grin, and tones of mock realisation, declared, “Ah! How to learn English!“

He constantly demonstrates courage and willingness to find positives and joy, even though he lives with constant longing and fear for all the loved ones who were left behind. This, and his wide open approach to the world, are such an inspiration.

The first time in his life that he ever got on a plane, he was leaving everything and everyone he’d ever known, to come to a country where he didn’t speak the language, completely putting his faith in strangers.

He’s found his own employment and has held it down continuously, determined to support himself and to put something back into his host country.

One small trip at a time, he’s exploring the world, by himself.

He willingly tries new cuisines, slowly teaching himself to vary his meat diet with some vegetables.

He’s unashamed in expressing his tastes and self, whether that’s his daft Grinch slippers, his meaningful tattoos, or the auburn streaks in his hair.

He’s determined to make the most of every situation and is driven to take every opportunity to expand his life.

As I said, he’s an inspiration.

I’m blessed to have him in my life.

JP