When I was a nurse I took care of many people from other countries and I always learned five words in their language: please, thank you, hello, good bye and excuse me. The Basic Five.
People seemed to enjoy being greeted in their native tongue (even though my accent was often laughable), and it felt like it made a small connection.
Stranger in a Strange Land
Retired from nursing, I started a part time job about a month ago. One of my co-workers is a woman from Ukraine. She and her daughter have been here about six months. She has limited English and I have five words in Ukrainian.
The name of her town is not one I have heard on the news but I gather that things were not good there.
She has this very cool app on her phone where you speak into the phone and it types what you have said then translates it into Ukrainian, and vice versa. You can both read what has been spoken as it is translated.
I love this kind of technology.
In the early months of the terrorist attack on Ukraine I was looking for ways to help and I found a crochet heart pattern on Ravelry. I bought it but didn’t make it until last month, when I made it for Tina (not her real name).
We are busy at work and Tina and I don’t have much time to talk but it cracks me up that we have had short conversations, each in our own language, accompanied by gestures and facial expressions. It somehow works.
Still Trying to Help
World Central Kitchen, Armstreet, and Doctors Without Borders continue their work. I stumbled upon a beautiful towel rack made by Forged Commodities, a small business in Kyiv, so I ordered it.
I am back to waking to avalanche control explosions and recall the first words I learned in Ukrainian: Slava Ukraini!
Maybe these are more important than The Basic Five.
Tina might agree.
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