Finally, for the first time in the six months since I had returned home, I felt like I was speaking to people who really “got me,”—who really listened to me, who not only understood but actually shared my perspectives. This conversation propelled me forward—pushing me up and out of the bottom of the curve.
Later that night, we were sitting at the dinner table with Josh’s mom and dad. Josh’s mom brought up our video call with Sara that morning, asking if we had talked about baking Christmas cookies—which, in all fairness, was the topic of our last field note. (I think in our parents’ minds, we are simply partaking in this exchange journey to teach non-native English speakers about American culture and customs. And I have been very eager to set the record straight—to explain that in fact, it is Sara who is teaching us so much!)
When Josh’s mom brought up the exchange, I couldn’t wait to talk about the real issues that we dove into with Sara and Maha that morning. But as soon as we mentioned the protests in Khartoum, Josh’s dad hardly skipped a beat before making a correlation between President Trump's government shutdown in America and what the people in Sudan are now facing. In his mind, the American people who have most of their retirement savings invested in the stock market, as well as the federal employees who will be out of work during the shutdown, will be facing “dire economic” conditions—much like the families in Sudan.
I was immediately outraged, which I think Josh could sense. Glancing over at me, he lightly brushed my arm and politely excused us from the table. Rather than engage in what felt like the start of WWIII that night, we opted to take a quick stroll around the neighborhood.
