Saturday, December 18, 2010
Bhutanese refugees: American dream tantalizes, deceives
I am a refugee from Bhutan. In the early days after my arrival to Portland, I would call friends and family in the refugee camps in Nepal, telling them the United States is close to heaven and they should try to come as soon as possible.
Now, nearly two years later, I see those newly arrived struggling; they question me about my "heaven." Some say they would return, if it were possible, to their dark refugee camps rather than face their desperate situations in Oregon. I have come to feel that "the American dream" is dangerous, because people come here with great expectations. I have stopped calling the camps in Nepal.
Still, Bhutanese refugees keep coming here, for lack of other choices. Bhutan, a country tucked between China and India, claims to be one of the happiest and most peaceful places in the world. But in 1990, Jigme Singe Wangchuck, Bhutan's former king, began the process of ethnic cleansing, with India's support. He started to evict the Nepali-speaking, Hindu minority population -- called Lhotsampas -- who had lived in Bhutan since the 17th century. Lhotsampas have been banned from speaking their languages and practicing their religion. The Indian army transported and dumped our people in Nepal, where the United Nations later established refugee camps. Requests to stay in their motherland as bonafide citizens have been met with bullets, bombs, torture and rape. Some 150,000 Lhotsampas have become stateless and homeless.
The Bhutanese, the newest refugee community in Oregon, began arriving in early 2008. More than 33,000 now live in the United States -- including more than 400 in the Portland metro area -- as part of a State Department resettlement program. Another 30,000 are expected to arrive in the U.S. over the next three years -- destined to face an economic crisis that adds to the challenges of their integration.
Twenty years of living in a refugee camp is unimaginable. As a boy, one late, cold and windy winter night, I saw my father pour icy water over his head. When I asked him "Why?" he answered, "I can't sleep. I am tired and hurting so much and feeling so hopeless at having been forced from my country."
Confined to small bamboo, thatched-roof huts, refugees like my father could not work or even leave the camp. Young people like myself had few options to get an education. A dependency began to replace our ancient and elegant Lhotsampas traditions.
When the United States opened its door to refugees from Bhutan, we jumped at the opportunity. But a three-day orientation overseas did not prepare us for life in America. We were told how to use a toilet or fasten a seatbelt, but nothing about how to deal with a lack of employment opportunities. Bhutanese refugees suffer intense culture shock when they arrive in the U.S. Separation from family and from everything familiar is overwhelming, as is the trauma of war and refugee camp life.
Instead of patching up leaks in straw roofs, refugees are negotiating ink cartridges for their secondhand printers. Every day is filled with new discoveries and difficulties. Language is an enormous challenge: from being able to read notes from school, letters from health clinics and government agencies, to job applications and interviews. Finding a job to bring money into a household is an immediate need.
Refugees arriving in the U.S. are eligible for food stamps, Medicare and cash assistance. They are expected to become self-sufficient within three to eight months of arrival -- a tall order. The cash assistance itself is inadequate: A family of four receives $621 per month to pay for rent that costs a minimum of $650 for a two-bedroom apartment, not to mention utilities, clothes and other necessities. Within five months, refugee families must start to repay the travel loan they received to fly to the U.S. (a family of four owes $5,300 for the one-way trip from Nepal).
After eight months, federal refugee benefits end, except for TANF (Temporary Assistance to Needy Families) for families with children. I know many refugees who are unable to find a job within the eight months. When they lose benefits, they have to rely on Bhutanese friends and family in Oregon, who are already overburdened. For some, the pressure is too great. Suicide among refugees is a real and growing concern in the United States. Already, eight Bhutanese refugees have hung themselves in four states since 2009. Suicide by a refugee has an added poignancy: Refugees believe they are coming to start a new life, not to end it.
Although no suicide has occurred in Oregon, I have met several Bhutanese refugees here who have contemplated suicide due to their dire financial circumstances. Thankfully I was able to connect them to resources and counseling and tried to give them hope for the future.
Even refugees who do find work must deal with discrimination and injustice. Many are hired for low pay, asked to work extra hours, and some are not paid for the work. They are vulnerable, because they are not fluent in English and do not know their rights. Earlier this year, several Bhutanese men working at a downtown Portland restaurant were cheated of their paychecks. It took two months for community leaders to persuade the restaurant owners to pay them.
Bhutanese refugees are very thankful to the U.S. government and to Oregonians for welcoming them to this community and providing hope and an opportunity for a new life. But we need more support to thrive here. Families are simply not prepared for the complexity of American life. We need longer individual and group orientations, more vocational training, and more civic engagement. Portland resettlement agencies need volunteers and mentors to help refugees with school registration, transportation, and orientation in Oregon and in American culture.
We also need the U.S. to pressure Bhutan to improve life for the 80,000 ethnic minorities still living in Bhutan and to take back the exiled refugees. Bhutanese refugees want to return to their home country. International law provides only three options as a solution: repatriation to the home country; integration into a host country; or resettlement in a third country, usually in the Western world. The first two options are not available for Bhutanese refugees at this time. Seventeen rounds of bilateral talks on repatriation between the Nepalese and Bhutanese governments have not yielded a resolution. Peaceful protests by refugees in Nepali camps for return to Bhutan have failed. The Indian army has forcibly returned refugees attempting an overland return to Bhutan. And the government of Nepal does not permit the second option, local integration, because that nation is poor and unable to provide for its own citizens.
So while third-country resettlement in places like Oregon, far from our country and culture, is not optimal, it is better than languishing in temporary camps without a clear or meaningful future. Even if it means an uncertain struggle against economic and emotional hardships.
Som Nath Subedi
Subedi is a Bhutanese community member who lives in Southeast Portland. Reach him at som_subedi@yahoo.com
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment