I want to first answer a few questions right away that may clear up some things, as I have gotten these on many occasions in the last several months and then I have jotted down as best I can some stories and moments that have really impacted me in the last nine, almost ten months, of living at the apartments. It’s not well organized and the stories don’t happen in any particular order. I more just wanted to get them written down simply to just have them documented well and remember them so that I could reflect and give God the glory and honor He deserves for all of this. Without Him, we are nothing and what we do is for nothing. So praise Jesus for calling us into something so much greater than we could have asked or imagined.
What organization or church are you partnering with to do this and how long is your time commitment to these apartments and these people?: We are NOT affiliated with any church or any organization. We attend Citylight Benson and have a huge community of friends who support us emotionally but we have no financial support in this nor do we want that. We moved in here out of obedience to a personal call placed on our lives–not because it was a job or a step towards a job. This is just our lives. We live here out of our own decision and get to live each day however unpredictably the day may unfold and I love that because we answer to no one except Jesus. And we don’t have to have some quantifiable measure of how successful we are being because financial supporters want to see where their money is going. Nope. Just living everyday to the fullest, being successful because Jesus is our guide and He is doing radical things through us.
How do you make money?: All my life I’ve been a person who cared very little about money. I’ve always wanted to make just enough and never craved more. Working hard is of course very pleasing to the Lord, and I always desired to do just that, but my salary was never important to me. In 2016 when I shot 33 weddings and innumerable other photoshoots, I made more money than I ever thought I would in one year with a normal job and a college degree, much less making it owning my own business. But ultimately I was so busy, I never had time for anyone and my schedule made it so difficult to even see my husband. Sure, the money was great, but my heart wasn’t happy. Moving in here, I still take on a few photo jobs a month which is a huge blessing that photography pays so well. I only need to do a couple jobs a month to match the money I was making at my first job outside of college. But ultimately, Robbie supports us. He loves his job and he has an incredible work environment. He is lovingly the biggest supporter, encourager, and empower-er of what I do. He has never questioned for a second the impact I’m having by staying at the apartments all day, giving moms free English lessons, and helping everywhere I can. He is such an active part of the apartments also and knows exactly where our money goes– mostly to rent and extra food for all the kids we feed almost every day. He calls me a missionary and says he’s my only financial supporter and I love that because he’s right. I’m doing what I would do if I lived overseas, but we are blessed and get to do it right here in the United States and I couldn’t be more grateful for Robbie or Jesus for the blessings on blessings on blessings. And to be completely frank, I have no desire to ever make money doing this. I think having zero financial gain from this allows me to keep my heart in check. This isn’t a job. This isn’t a service project. This is our life, nothing more, nothing less.
You must save a lot of money living in those yucky apartments: Sadly no! We actually pay more to live here than we did to live in our cute, quaint apartment in Dundee before this. We pay $780 a month to live in a two bedroom here. It’s outrageous. This is one of the trillions of issues with this place and the people who run it. Dave Paladino is our landlord and he charges out the wazoo for people to stay in bed-bugged, mouse-riddled, cockroach crawling apartments. Pray for everyone living here that they would be empowered enough to move out of here into a home or apartment with reasonable rent and better living conditions. People have stayed here as long as they have because the state placed them here when they arrived in the states (and their first 8 months as refugees in America, they would have gotten rent assistance–that’s not the case anymore. They pay just as much as we do.) and they don’t want to leave because their community of other Karen people is so important to them. And I don’t blame them. They’re a team, they’re all family, and they’re all in this together.
Okay, on to many many stories that impacted me and that I hope will impact you:
Early in March 2018, I had called the landlord to ask for a maintenance person to come check out our shower drain that took hours to drain completely. Every shower we stood with water sometimes up to our shins because of this drain. We had tried draino many times without success. They said they would send someone out to us in the next couple of days. One morning, I had three children in my apartment, two of which were waiting their turn for me to braid their hair before school. There was a knock at the door. My hands were occupied with the braid, but the door was unlocked so I called out, “Come in!” The knocking continued and I knew it was probably Tha Wah, Chat Htoo’s sister, so I called out a little louder, “You can come in, Tha Wah!” Sure enough, it was her, and she sort of lollygagged as she made her way inside. I continued to braid when there was yet another knock at the door. I sighed and sort of yelled, “Just come in! The door is unlocked!” An adult Asian man who worked for the apartments pushed the door open slightly and peered in. As I made eye contact, I quickly tried to make amends for my attitude. “I’m so sorry sir!! Please come in! I thought you were another kid coming in before school!!” He laughed and was good-natured about the whole thing. He said, “Wow, you have a lot of kids!” and I said, “Yeah, they’re not mine. But I sure love them like they are.” I pointed him to the bathroom and thanked him for coming. He began his maintenance as I wrapped up the braiding and gave kisses-on-the-cheek goodbye to my kids. I walked into my bathroom and told him to let me know if there was anything I could do to help him. He said he was going to run to his truck to grab a few items he needed and that he’d be right back. By the time he returned, there were two Karen moms in my living room with their pre-school age children. He started to speak to one of the moms that he had known before in Burmese. Then he switched to English as he and I walked into the bathroom together saying, “I have to ask. Who are you? And what are you doing with all those kids and these women today?” I laughed. I think it’s the question so many people want to ask but don’t know how. People see it and are so surprised by it. I said, “That’s a great question! I teach these moms English every day, and their kids are just as much a part of my husband and my lives too, as they come over each night to hang out and eat food.” He explained he was Kachin, another Burmese minority group, like Karen, but with a unique language and culture too. He said, “I’ve never met someone like you. I can hardly believe it!” I was so excited to meet a Kachin man, as I had only ever heard of Kachin people before that moment. I asked him some questions about his life and how he ended up in Omaha. His English was so good for only being here three years. And that he had a great trade job really impressed me. He was so kind and continually thanked me for loving and serving “his people” even though they were somewhat different. But in many ways they are the same– both cultures have experienced the brutal judgement and oppression of the Burmese people. Both cultures have fled their country for safety in refugee camps elsewhere. Both cultures understood depravity. I told him I was about to leave with these women to take them down to the apartment office to help them sign a new lease, but that he was more than welcome to stay and continue his work.
An hour and a half later, I got back to my apartment. Inside, there was a note left for me by Gyung, the Kachin man, that read: “Hi.. Dear Teacher. We so sorry about your tub clogged. My name is Gyung (insert phone number). You are so kindness and helping for our people. I so so thank you. God bless you and your family. You can call me anytime.” Not only did he leave this precious note, but my shower drain was fixed and my entire tub had been scrubbed sparkling clean. If I wasn’t already amazed by all of this, I then noticed that every trash can in my apartment including the big kitchen one had been emptied, taken out, and refilled with new bags. This man blessed me so much that day. I remember clinging to this little note against my heart as I stared at my emptied trash can in the kitchen and a tear fell down my cheek. I could feel the Lord ordaining these interactions. I knew the inconvenient shower drain issue had been such a gift because it led me to Gyung. I had a friend and confidant now who worked for Dave Paladino. God is good. Always.
As time has gone on, Gyung has grown very close to Robbie and me both. He calls me often when he happens to be at the apartments just to see if I’m home and ask me how I am. One time Gyung saw that I wasn’t home and hadn’t locked my door, so he locked my door for me and then called to let me know. When I have called the apartment office several times in a row with zero answer trying to get ahold of someone for one problem or another that needs to be fixed in one of my neighbor’s homes, I call Gyung and every time without fail, he answers the first time and writes down the problem and finds someone himself to get the job done. We have become a team. He wants to help his people just as much as I do. So he always reminds me to call him whenever I may need anything. I have had so much success with getting my neighbor’s apartment issues fixed because of how reliable he is (even though Dave Paladino’s office isn’t). He answers on his days off even and always comes to the rescue, often coming himself to fix something even though it may not be his own line of expertise. We have accomplished more together than separately and I’m thankful for the ways that Jesus shows Robbie and me that we can’t do this alone.
One evening when I was not home, Gyung was helping a neighbor across the hall from our apartment on his own time (not for work). He was attempting to help the family get their new smart tv connected and set up. He knocked on our door and discovered Robbie, exactly who he needed, to help. Robbie so joyfully accepted and in turn, also got to meet our neighbors across from us who we had not known up until then. Robbie soon found out that this tv wouldn’t connect to internet because it wasn’t a smart tv at all. It was merely a simple 40-inch television. With no hesitation, Robbie said, “Let’s go return the tv tonight together so I can help you pick out one that will do all the things you want it to do.” So Gyung, Robbie, and the twenty-something son of this family drove to Best Buy and made some returns and purchases. As the night went on, Robbie gave them our antenna for free in order for them to have channels they could actually watch without paying for cable. It was no surprise to me when Robbie told me how in return the family was so so grateful for the help, and they wanted to bless him with lots of food. Robbie sat down with them on their floor, like usual custom, and ate a bunch of food with Gyung and this family. Apparently halfway through, Robbie asked what he was eating to which he found out it was the insides of a chicken–all sorts of organs and such. But he swallowed it down knowing it meant a lot to the family that he was eating it. I still laugh about Robbie eating gizzards and chicken heart and stomach. Robbie is adventurous, but probably not that adventurous. So it’s a good thing he didn’t know what it was when he first began the meal. Regardless, this implemented our relationship with this family and I’m so grateful for how Robbie nearly daily gives hours of his time to these people with no concern for his own time. And I’m thankful for Gyung and how he loves also.
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It was in the middle of April 2018, a normal Monday, when the kids had all been home from school a little while, several were in my apartment coloring, doing a puzzle and talking to me about their days. Robbie hadn’t returned home from work yet. Suddenly, Chat Htoo’s mom came rushing in the door, speaking quickly in Karen to her daughter, and Chat Htoo told me her mom was needing me to come with her. So all of us hurried out the door and joined Chat Htoo’s brothers, father, and a couple other random Karen friends in the back parking lot of the apartment gathered around a red minivan, not talking, just waiting for me. As I observed the situation, there was a white woman around 50 years old standing next to the vehicle looking on and I just stood there confused. I asked Chat Htoo and her brother Thing Aye why their mom needed me and they told me they were considering buying this van but wanted to know if I thought it was a good deal. It suddenly made sense. I proceeded to ask about the van to the white woman. “What year is the van?”, “How many miles are on it?”, “What is the cost?” The woman answered me somewhat impatiently until I asked, “Can I take a look inside?” when she finally exploded with, “Who are you anyway? Some high schooler from Benson? You’re not the family, you’re not the one making the purchase! You cannot see inside! I don’t even know why you’re here.” Even though my heart immediately felt defensive and downright offended, I tried to calmly, but assertively say, “No, I’m their neighbor and friend and I’m graduated from college. I spend everyday with this family.
They have never made a purchase this big ((the van would be $3000)) so they are trusting me to help them make this decision.” Why did it matter who I was?? Wasn’t it obvious the family had asked me to be there? The woman had a Karen interpreter with her; she loudly says to her interpreter: “I have to be somewhere in thirty minutes. I found this vehicle for them like they asked. It’s an amazing deal so I don’t know why they are just sitting there! Tell them they need to make a decision! This is wasting my time.” The Karen translator stood there, with obvious embarrassment, not knowing how to kindly ask Chat Htoo’s family to make a decision when you didn’t need to know English to understand how rude this white woman had been. Because I was not prepared for this situation at all up until six minutes before, I don’t think my mind and heart were ready to be so emotionally rocked. Who was this woman?? How could she treat a refugee family–a vulnerable family who haven’t had any education on this type of buying experience–with such disrespect? Sure, maybe the van was a good deal. Maybe 3000 dollars was an amazing price for this particular car. But maybe 3000 dollars was all this family had in their bank account total (or maybe they didn’t even have that?). And maybe they needed fifteen days to make this decision instead of fifteen minutes (like any normal person would while buying a car).
The family was looking at me to make the next move, and no one was making a sound. I felt like I had lost my privileges to ask any more questions because the woman made it clear that she had no interest in me being there. But I don’t know if that had been obvious to the family considering the language barrier. The white woman proceeded, “Tell them to get in the van and I will drive them around the neighborhood. It’s a great van. Mya Thin asked me to find a vehicle that her family could afford and that’s what I have done” (When she said Chat Htoo’s mom’s name “My-uh Thin” exactly the pronunciation as it is phonetically written, I knew this woman didn’t really know the family otherwise she would have known her name is pronounced “Me-yuh Thay”. This woman thought she was helping by, as I found out later, spending one hour a month with the family. But in fact, she never even cared enough to learn the mom’s actual name or cared enough to spend more than her “sacrificial one hour a month” with them. I was outraged.) As the family slowly started getting up from their seated position on the curb, the white woman aggressively says again, “Why aren’t they getting in the car? I have somewhere to be. They need to get in the van so I can get on with my night!” I was astonished. My heart was broken. It was in these moments I realized truly the love I had for this family (and my Karen people as a whole) because I had never felt such defensiveness, such hurt, such fight in my heart for justice. How dare anyone be treated this way, but even more so the people who have so little. They had done nothing to hurt this woman yet she somehow felt like she had the right to tear them down. Chat Htoo’s mom and dad got in the van with her 3 year old brother when the woman says, “No! No! The child cannot come! He is not allowed in here.” Hser Haw, the three year old, began to cry and I really couldn’t understand the situation considering if the family bought the vehicle, the kid would be in the car every time they went anywhere. But alas, the woman had made her demand clear. So it was a mess trying to figure out who would drive with them. Thing Aye got in the car with only his dad and before the door slammed in my face I worked up the nerve to say, “Mam, do you work for Miss Pam?” (Miss Pam is a very respected woman in Omaha who has a ministry that works with refugees in our city and also in our apartment complex). You could tell the woman didn’t want to answer me because she was shocked I knew this– she probably had a gut sinking feeling that I would then tell her boss how she had treated this family. She didn’t like me because had there not been an American present during this situation, she wouldn’t have been discovered. And the Karen people would have had no idea they had the right to complain or speak up for themselves. She confirmed that she worked for Miss Pam as a volunteer just before closing the door on me.
As soon as they drove away, I lost it. I was crying so hard and ran to my apartment to shield my face. Chat Htoo and Hser Gay Moo ran quickly after me, hugging me tight, crying because they saw me crying. We stood in my apartment, each with our own tissues, as I choked out, “I’m so sorry you guys have to see me crying like this. I just cannot believe how that woman treated your family Chat Htoo! It was so wrong! She doesn’t realize that making a decision this big could take weeks, or at the very least, hours. She cannot expect you guys to know if you want to buy a van within a matter of minutes. I would never want anyone to be treated like this but much less one of your families here. It’s awful!” I stood there in my living room with an eleven and ten year old’s arms around my waist, my shirt getting wet from their tears. We finally let out a small chuckle as we realized how funny we must look bawling in my apartment by ourselves. When I could breathe again without more tears coming, I walked with the girls back outside to Chat Htoo’s mom and her friend who were waiting for the woman to come back with the van. Mya Thin, via Chat Htoo, said, “Chase, we will buy the van if you think it’s a good deal. But we will not if you don’t think it is.” Oh dear. Another experience nothing had prepared me for. Here I realized I held all this power I never asked to hold. But it was my true honor to bear, as I understood the strong trust these people had in me. As I still felt emotional about the entire thing, I tried to contain my tears as I answered back, “I wasn’t allowed inside the van, so I’m not sure exactly how nice it is. From the looks of it, it seems nice. But I’ll be honest, it’s difficult for me to make this decision without letting my opinion of that woman cloud my judgement. I want you guys to make a good decision, and I want your family to have a nice car. But maybe I can help you find another car another time when you can have plenty of time to come to your decision.” Mya Thin completely agreed and determined not to buy the van that evening.
Three days later, when I could finally tell the story without crying, I called Miss Pam, relayed the story, and she, with her immense respect for me and immigrant families, wouldn’t tolerate this behavior and said the woman would be let go of immediately. Although I already admired her, my respect grew a lot for Miss Pam that day. Thankful that at least for now, no one would be able to treat these guys this way. Ultimately I had my first experience where I needed to be an advocate, and I began the process of learning how to stand up for my people. Through this situation, I realized the authority I held with these people’s trust and I walked away believing even more that I needed to be the best me for these people. I never wanted to let them down, but I know I will someday because I’m not Jesus. I had some growing up to do, some tougher skin to form, and I learned that day what I meant to these families.
As an update, the family did buy a bigger vehicle for their 9-person family. And they purchased it from another Karen man who was fair and gave them time to decide. I’m very pleased to say the vehicle has been going strong for them with no issues for months now.
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Some days are really long and really tiring but they are so worth it. Each day is so new and so unpredictable. I have learned to be ready for anything. Oftentimes, I find myself cooking my lunch at the time I’m preparing my breakfast just so that food will be ready to take on the go if and when a new need arises at the apartments and I need to fly out the door.
One morning in August 2018, I knew I had only two things to do that day (as I hadn’t started teaching again just yet since the kids were still on summer break). I was taking a neighbor to the doctor in the morning at 8:30 and that I had plans to go to dinner with my sister, Brett and her husband Jeff at my sister’s boss’s house that evening (just a super sweet invitation of them wanting to get to know Robbie and me over a casual dinner alongside Brett and Jeff). I took Pwe Tee to the doctor to remove her nexplanon birth control from her arm. I had helped her make this appointment a couple weeks prior. She’d had it in for three years and planned to get a replacement put in that same day also. We waited such a long time, and the procedure took quite a bit of time also because a resident doctor was taking it out and being supervised by an official doctor. I asked the interpreter to make sure Pwe Tee didn’t want me to leave the room while this took place but the interpreter reassured me that Pwe Tee felt better if I was there with her. This interpreter, Thay (pronounced Tay), who is Karen herself, is so kind and we have gotten to know each other over the last nine months of so many doctor appointments. She always tells me, “You have so many friends! I never can believe that you’re in here with so many different Karen families each week. Trust me, you’ll never be forgotten by them. I will never forget the couple who helped my family so much the first year we were in the U.S.”
While we wait for the doctor to come in, there is no interpreter with us. Pwe Tee and I sit next to each other in the room, quiet; I know more Karen than she knows English so that’s not saying a lot. But in a weird way, we know each other well, without having ever had a full conversation that didn’t involve one of the kids from the apartment helping translate. I sit with her in her living room often, with her 3 and 5 year olds climbing on me, watching the world go by through her living room windows. Sometimes to make phone calls for someone in her family, or sometimes just because her home is my home too, and it just feels good to be there. Her children from three until twenty three love me so well. I pull out my phone in the doctor’s office and show her photos from the last few months that her teenage son, Ler Htee Moo, is in with Robbie and me and of course a bunch of other youth. Camping, swimming, frisbee, the lake, some in her living room, some in the garden, playing chi loh behind the apartments, etc. Pwe Tee loves them, laughs at some, and smiles at all the rest. We love each other even though we can’t ask much about each other’s lives. But we know what life is like at that moment, and we know much about each other’s days at the apartment, and that’s sure feels good enough.
After the appointment, we came home and Pwe Tee’s 23-year-old daughter, Moo Paw, asked if I had time to take them to the food pantry. They had missed their day the month before because they didn’t have a way to get there. This family has twelve people living in a three bedroom apartment and no one who knows how to drive. I can definitely make time for this. So we packed up the car with Moo Paw, her one year old daughter, Eh Tha Seh, and Pwe Tee. Just before taking off, I got stopped by sweet Gyung doing maintenance at the apartments. He was wondering if I had time that week to call Metro Community College and find out if they offered classes for heating and cooling education. Gyung had never asked me for a personal favor like this and I was so thrilled to take on the task. He said he tried to figure it out himself but couldn’t and he didn’t want to bother me with one more thing to help someone with, but if I at all found the time, he would appreciate it so much.
I had never been to the food bank before this day. We signed in and were given a small form to fill out. Then we waited. And we waited. I made a long phone call to Metro during our wait and found out Metro did in fact offer heating and cooling classes. I called Gyung too and arranged a time when I could help him enroll. He was ecstatic and so grateful. Two hours of the workers calling numbers and finally their numbers got called quickly one after the other. The three of us ladies were so hungry by the time we got back there. They were allowed so much food. It was a blessing to watch them get to take so much home with them that day. We had two volunteers help us bring it all out to my car. I wasn’t sure we would fit into the car after all the food was put in there, but we managed.
I quickly ran inside to eat a late lunch when Mu Baw Htoo, Hser Gay Moo’s mom, asked me to drive her and her daughter Eh Gay Moo to the doctor. I had taken Eh Gay Moo to the doctor innumerous times this year. She is way underweight for the average American kid. But that’s just it: she’s getting evaluated on a scale made for kids who are heavier and taller than Asian kids on average. Several doctors have been so concerned for her health. She’s four years old and weighs 38 pounds. Yes, she’s so skinny, but her mom is so skinny too, and short, but they’re healthy. One day I even took Eh Gay Moo to see a nutritionist per the doctor’s request and the specialist was the first person with the most realistic perspective we had seen in months. She monitored Eh Gay Moo as she climbed on me, interacted with me and her mom with such joy and interest, played with toys and played pretend with the plastic food items in the room. The nutritionist went overboard explaining how healthy she believed Eh Gay Moo to be and how she didn’t have a single concern for her health. It was awesome. But this day, here we were again. Another check up to see if Eh Gay Moo was gaining weight. This day was the first day I really realized how much I knew this family. The interpreter was there, Jonathan (another Karen man who knows me well by now), but as all questions got asked, I knew the answer to them. In fact, Jonathan looked at me before translating wondering if I could answer for them to get the appointment moving quicker. Sure enough. I know their phone numbers, their birthdays, some I even know their Social Security numbers by heart. But more importantly I could answer how many meals a day she’s eating, what she eats, what she plays with and who she plays with, what her daily routine is, and how well she learns new words. I know whether she can dress herself, can balance on one foot, can tie her own shoes, etc. The doctor in the room seemed a little shocked by my knowledge and had the interpreter confirm a few of my answers. When they were confirmed, his shock turned into sweet surprise. He was an immigrant himself, and he thanked me continually throughout the appointment for my “service and friendship,” as he called it, with these people. He saw how Eh Gay Moo felt most at ease in my lap than anywhere else throughout the appointment, and how Mu Baw Htoo and I interacted with comfort. He told me he’d never seen anything like this and couldn’t believe I would give up making money to do this with my days. I told him I couldn’t imagine anything else. I told them about the nutritionist appointment and how she hadn’t been worried about her weight at all. This was a new doctor and he seemed to agree after being given all the information.
He noticed the bites all over Eh Gay Moo’s skin and asked how long they’d been there. I told him as long as I’ve known Eh Gay Moo, they’d been there. From her neck and stomach all the way down to her feet and ankles, she was covered in scabs and bites. Even though her siblings had very minimal bites on their bodies comparatively, we always imagined them to be bed bugs in the apartment. The doctor brought a man in that could identify different kinds of bites. He strongly believed her to have scabies. I was so happy to think of Eh Gay Moo getting relief from this. Even with all her constant itching, to the point of bleeding sometimes, she never complains, and she remains so playful and energetic. Jonathan, the interpreter, explained the standard procedure of treating for scabies to Mu Baw Htoo, but she asked me if I would please come over that night to put the treatment on her daughter myself. She was worried she might forget one step. What an honor that was to me. Even though scabies is highly contagious upon touch, I felt so unafraid of the bugs. I was asked by my American friend, “aren’t you worried you’ll get scabies?” and I cannot explain enough how unafraid I was. It didn’t even cross my mind. Before we left, the doctor told Jonathan, “Will you tell this woman that from one immigrant to another, I want to remind her to be thankful for people like Chase. I want you to ask her to say ‘thank you’ as often as she can.” This was to my surprise and embarrassment as I started to shake my head and look down at my feet. But Jonathan told her this in Karen and she did thank me, as she truly always does.
We got home with just enough time to spare before I needed to drive with Day Mu, my other 23-year-old Karen friend, to visit the home of a Karen family who was three weeks fresh to the United States. We picked up the 16 and 20 year old daughters and took them to my friend Paw La’s apartment nearby to sit in the living room and talk. Day Mu knew these girls from the refugee camp and it was special becoming Paw Ku’s first American friend in the States. We spent an hour and a half there before I really needed to return to get back in time for dinner at Brett’s boss’ house.
I made it just slightly late. We had been in Canada the weekend before for Robbie’s nana’s memorial and Robbie had missed Monday at work because of it. The next day we would both be leaving for Wyoming and Ohio separately to visit different close friends of ours so Robbie needed to be at the office late that night to make up for it and missed dinner. The evening was wonderful and Brett’s boss and her husband were excellent hosts and conversationalists. I knew I needed to leave early to be home by 8:30 that evening to get the scabies cream on Eh Gay Moo before her 9pm bedtime. I managed to get back to the apartment by 8:35 and went straight up to apartment 26. They had already bathed her like I instructed them to do before I arrived. The bed sheets, blankets and old clothes had been stripped from her bed and closets and put aside for proper cleaning. The family and I sat on the floor in their dark living room, lit by a lamp, watching me lather Eh Gay Moo in lice cream that apparently works for scabies. Cute little Eh Gay Moo, giggling from the cold lotion on her bare skin while Hser Gay Moo sweetly asked me about how my dinner was. I looked around me and felt the tiredness from that day soak into all my limbs and I remembered how I still needed to pack for my flight the next day to Ohio. But I also remembered I had my family in front of me, us all laughing at Eh Gay Moo’s singing in Poe Karen and talking about our days, Hser Gay Moo resting her head on my arm as we sat and looked through some jarred pickled vegetables Brett’s boss sent me home with. The only thing to complete this beautiful, exhausting, wonderful day would be to cuddle into Robbie’s arms that night and relay all the stories to his marvelous, supportive ears.
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Ler Htee Moo’s family brought some mail to my attention one day in early August. It was from Paladino’s office which claimed they owed late fees for late rent from May 2018 and the current month in August. This was a 160 dollar charge; 80 dollar fees for both months. Moo Paw, the oldest daughter, who is the one who actually signs the rent checks for her family, showed me the carbon copies of her checks for those two months and sure enough she had written her full rent amount on the first day of both May and August. She said she put both checks in the mail on the first. As long as rent is received before the 6th day of the month, it’s not late. So I sat with the family in their living room and called down to the office. The woman I talked to was adamant that this was an issue that needed to be addressed with Dave Paladino himself. But Dave wasn’t available that day and she said he wouldn’t be available until Friday morning at 8am, three days later. My complaint was that the letter I was holding in my hands said the issue needed to be resolved and paid within six days of being received otherwise they risk eviction. By the time Dave could potentially be reached in three days, we’d be pushing seven days since they received the mail. I needed to know without a doubt that this family would be safe to wait on resolving or appealing. As I very assertively made it known that I didn’t trust their office to make note that we had attempted to resolve because they had broken my trust many times in the past several months when they said they would do one thing but they didn’t, she impatiently told me that it was fine and to just call back in a few days just before hanging up on me. Pretty cool, huh? *rolls eyes*.
I returned to Moo Paw’s on Friday morning around 8:30am. We called the office together and I was told, “Dave is in Fremont today and isn’t taking calls.” As you can imagine, I was pretty frustrated. I explained the situation and said I needed to speak with someone immediately about it because this poor family is at risk of eviction and they are actually really trying to do the right thing. The woman told me to meet her down at the office and she would have someone deal with it in person. So we picked up our things and drove downtown. The woman I had spoken to asked me what valid reason we had for appealing the late fees. I said, “This family has lived in your apartments for four years. They have never had a single late rent payment until apparently May of this year, which they didn’t even know about because we have proof she signed her check on the first of the month that month. They really do want to do the right thing and have worked hard to make sure their payments are always on time. I’m assuming you received the late checks on the sixth of the month each time because I know she mailed it out on the first and I can’t imagine it coming any later than that. I just think we need to look at this family’s situation and understand they have twelve people living in their apartment and another $160 will really affect them!”
She heard me out but didn’t say anything before she just walks away. I looked over at Moo Paw, my heart beating so fast, her eyes so hopeful as she looked back at me trusting and hoping I said enough to change the reality. She came back with a piece of paper. She had printed their family’s rent payment history over the last four years. She scanned through it and agreed, they had always turned their rent in on time. Her whole mood changed as she said, “Okay, I’ll waive the $160 fee today. Just make sure they start dropping their rent checks in our mailbox if they think it could be late.” YAY! We were relieved and elated! This was huge!
As we started to exit, she said, “Now hold on! I see here they haven’t resigned a lease for 2018 yet. Are they planning to move out? Otherwise we need to sign a new one today.” We could do that. Moo Paw and I sat down with her over a new rental agreement. We were told the rent would increase $35 extra a month. Look, this family already pays $800 for their place. Another 35 dollars would be drastic for these people. I asked her how I could keep that from happening. She sighed, probably so frustrated to be working with me, and told me she would go find someone. Victor came up from the back. Victor had been the guy that showed Robbie and me our apartment before we moved in. He’s pretty nice. He said, “So you’re trying to keep the rent from increasing, but you already know everyone who lives in these apartments have increased rent each year, so what is your argument for it not going up?” I said, “Well, I live in the apartments also so I feel like I have a right to say: These apartments are really shitty. Bottom line is, they’re not even worth the 800 dollars the family is already paying. Much less 835.” Victor looked surprised that I would say that to him. He laughed as he looked down at the rental agreement. I could feel blood in my hot cheeks. I couldn’t believe I said that to him either. He responded, “I appreciate the honesty. I’ll keep the rent at 800.” Oh my goodness! Moo Paw and I hugged each other out of happiness. Two huge wins for us that morning at the apartment office. I felt proud that I didn’t let my fear of not being liked keep me from fighting for justice for a vulnerable family who can’t speak English well enough to do it on their own. They didn’t even know they were allowed to fight something like this. Younger Chase would have heard the rent was going up and she would have just accepted it because it would be too scary to contest something and too nerve-wracking to risk being told no. But not anymore. I love these families too much not to at least try. And the Lord is with me everywhere I go, loving these families so much more than I ever could. Moo Paw couldn’t wait to get home to tell her parents.
There was just one more obstacle though. Moo Paw wasn’t on the original lease. Just her father and mother. I needed to drive back to Benson, pick up her parents, and drive them back downtown to the office to get this signed today. So we did. It was a hassle, and I felt slightly uncomfortable to even walk back into their office later considering I have no idea what my reputation is like in there, but we got their new lease signed with the same rent amount and we celebrated the whole way home.
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Towards the end of August, I had spent the morning teaching in my living room and had just gotten home around 3pm from a grocery trip. As I was putting my groceries away in my kitchen, my unlocked door swung wide open in a hurry. It was Moo Paw breathless asking me to come help right away!! I dropped what I was holding, threw on my flip-flops, and raced out the door after her. I had no idea what had happened. I followed her, running, to the back parking lot where many Karen people from her own family and some not, were gathered around a tall, white man probably around 40 years old dressed in black with a gun on his hip. I arrived to the scene and it was an eviction officer from the apartments, looking intimidating as ever, telling the family that he had a paper from Dave Paladino saying this family was supposed to have moved out a few weeks ago. I questioned why? He asked who I was with the most skeptical tone. I explained I was a friend of the family and I knew a lot about them so I was asked to help because they don’t know enough English to defend themselves. He said all he knew was the landlord had said they never signed another lease so he suspected they should be moved out by now and if not, he would make them. I could feel my passion for justice well up within me. I said, “Excuse me, but I happened to be the one who took this very family to the apartment office three weeks ago to sign a new lease! So you cannot evict them!” and he said, “Mam, I’m just giving you the information I have. See this paper? Dave signed it asking me to come here today.” I refused to accept that. “Sir! That’s ridiculous! Who do I need to call to prove we signed another lease already?” He dropped his argument and relaxed. “Sometimes Dave has these printed without double checking on the situation.” (I didn’t say anything to this comment but truly couldn’t believe he would admit that our landlord is so rude that he would allow families to be scared out of their wits with an eviction officer at their apartment without double or triple checking first that he was correct in doing so!!).
By now there were maybe seven or eight Karen friends around us watching everything happen, as many of the high school boys had just returned home from High School that afternoon. We happened to be standing next to the small area for visitor parking in the back of our apartments. There weren’t any cars there, so he passive aggressively says, “Well, mam, you can show me where your car is so I can tow it now.” Confused, I asked what on earth he was talking about. He goes, “Well, you’re not in visitor parking, so I need to tow you.” I laughed so hard. “Well, thanks for profiling me and assuming I don’t live here. But sir. I’m a resident here! I’m their neighbor!” He proceeded, “You live here?? WHY?!” and I loved giving him my answer: “Because I love these people so much and because I am here to protect them from people like you.” His disgruntled response was: “I don’t care that you live here. That’s fine.” Whatever bro. But it felt good to advocate for my people, for them to see me stand up for them and love them. I realize more and more all the time that I am justice-minded and I do not want people getting taken advantage of. Not on my watch. All my Karen friends around me loved this moment and I was given a few hugs. We all went back to our homes and I felt a little more capable to continue to love with my actions and words in big and small ways.
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On May 10, 2018, I had strep throat so I wasn’t teaching that day. It was almost 11:30am when I heard my door knob shaking with someone trying to open it. When the person discovered it was locked, the door knob twisting became a frantic knock at my door. I raced over and answered it. Hser Boe Paw, my sweet 27 year old upstairs neighbor, with tears in her eyes, tried to muster the best English she could to tell me she needed my help and she was so nervous. I had never seen her like this so I rushed out the door with her, eager to help in whatever way I could whatever the situation. We ran quickly around back, then down the sketchy sloped driveway that leads to our back parking lot. As we ran, my eyes finally made contact with what had happened. Hser Boe Paw had been practicing driving with her learner’s permit and with her husband and three year old son in the car when she tried to make the turn from the neighborhood road to the east of us onto this sketchy and very narrow driveway up to the apartments, attempted to put on the brakes and missed. She drove up the curb of the drive and straight into the corner of a person’s home. Poor thing was scared to death.
The woman who owned the home happened to be home when it happened so she was the one to call the police, and thankfully all things considered, she was really calm, but Hser Boe Paw, on the other hand, had no idea what to do. And frankly, she was scared of the police (something most Karen people have had to unlearn in the U.S. because the only police they’ve ever known are the oppressive Thai police that restrict their every move out of the refugee camps). I calmed Hser Boe Paw down by explaining that I had gotten in a car accident before, and how nearly everyone does at some point in their lives. I reminded her that no one got hurt and what a blessing that was, as we looked over at her three year old son, Michael who was laughing and playing in the grass. While we waited for the police, I made sure to start gathering her permit and their car insurance and registration. Thin Win, her husband, ran back to the apartment to see if he could find the necessary documents that they unfortunately didn’t have in their car.
Amazing how quickly word travels amidst this community. Within ten minutes, there was a crowd of Karen people gathered on the curb chatting about the accident as they looked at Hser Boe Paw’s car stuck to the corner of this yellow house. They really were there supporting her, and even though I think if it had been me, I would have hated having all the people around watching me, I believe she was happy to have so many friends present. It probably just meant less explaining to do later on. Pretty funny.
The Police officer arrived and I soon felt very blessed because he was so so kind and so patient through the language barrier. I had called my friend Day Mu to come over as soon as she got back to the apartments from her morning class to help with translating. The police officer spoke too quickly and with too difficult a vocabulary for Day Mu to keep up, so it ended up being the officer talking, then me saying it in more simple language, more slowly, and then Day Mu translating it into Karen and then Hser Boe Paw responding in Karen and Day Mu very shyly giving her English interpretation. The great thing about this set-up is I know the limitations of Day Mu’s language. I’m with her nearly every day in some capacity, either teaching her or just hanging out with her or running errands together like best friends would. So I know what to say that she will understand. But also, she did so amazing and I was so proud of her that day. She’s not an interpreter, which is so much pressure for an English language learner but she did a phenomenal job. I couldn’t have done it without her.
We got everything figured out paper-work wise. Next it was the trouble of getting her car off of this lady’s house. Thin Win asked if I would be willing to drive the car off of the house because they were too scared to. I agreed, although I really wasn’t excited about doing it myself either. Multiple Karen men surrounded the car to help guide me off and back onto the pavement. But the car seemed to be stuck. The officer was kind enough to say he would give it a go. When he couldn’t reverse off of the house either, I realized part of the broken headlight was sharply wrapped around the gutter, keeping the car from moving. I pushed the gutter a different direction and the car was able to be removed. Everyone was clapping and we were all so happy to see very little damage was done to the home.
In the days that followed, we made many phone calls concerning taking the STAR class to remove the ticket from her record. We spoke with a couple of very rude and unsympathetic people who made it clear there was no option to take the class unless you could speak and understand English fluently. I offered to attend the class with her and sit next to her and help her and I was given an immediate and harsh absolutely not. We were disappointed, but I suppose we continue to learn tough life lessons and how life in America is just harder for someone who is a refugee. So instead, we paid off the ticket right away and called her insurance to notify them of everything. I continue to be thankful for situations I’m trusted to help with. I don’t always know what I’m doing, but I can always try to figure it out. I grew up with parents who taught me to be very independent, to do things for myself, and if I didn’t know the answer, there were ways to figure it out. The Lord is clearly through and through all of it, allowing for grace and kindness from people like police officers that make things less stressful too. I always watched my mom be so capable of anything–it felt like she knew everything. But of course now I realize it’s not that she knew everything, but just more that she felt confident enough to ask the right questions or make the right phone calls to figure something out. I feel so pleased to take on that same sense of confidence as I figure out these tough life situations with my neighbors and friends.
Hser Boe Paw and her husband bought a different used car that week and I watched them feel empowered to be independent and make big decisions that they could be proud of. It has been so beautiful to watch their family take an unfortunate situation and not let it keep them down despite potential financial woes that accompany something like this. They did it on their own and I love seeing them in their new car now (their car now is my same car, a Nissan Versa, just in a different color, and I love that too).
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In August 2018, a twenty year old girl named Moo Tee, who I rarely see at the apartment because she’s very shy, asked me if I would take her to the DMV to get her permit. You can go to high school at Benson High until you’re 21 as a refugee in order to get English training, but she had decided to stop going to high school here, from what I know, because language is hard and it’s awkward to be 20 years old among such younger peers. I try to put myself in these people’s shoes and I can’t imagine. Moving to America when you were seventeen years old after having already very little education in the first place and then being expected to adapt to the new culture, never having anything in your own language ever again, and succeed in a nearly all-white, all-English society. I would want to give up also. Moo Tee and I drove to the DMV and I was so happy to have time with just her. She’s sort of boyish–having buzzed the sides of her head and leaving the top a little longer to put in a pony. Her family gives her a hard time for this, in a loving way though. She’s one of 8 children. But I think she’s a badass. I asked her if she had studied hard for the permit test and if she felt ready. She said, “I just started studying today!” I laughed and wondered if we were wasting our time, but kept going.
Everyone at this particular DMV knows me. They’re so funny. Each time they see me walk up to the window– “Hey! It’s you again! How many did you bring with you this time?” and more. Each time, we laugh and I explain the new situation. If there’s a new DMV worker, the old-timers tell the new guy, “This girl literally moved into these people’s apartment complex in order to help them. We love her because she makes our job so much easier since she knows them so well, she can usually answer for them since we don’t have translators here. But she also speaks to them some in Karen!” They’ve been so nice to me there, restoring my hope in the humans that work for DMV’s. They’ve thanked me for the service that I do and can’t believe I don’t work for any church or organization doing this for money. I remind them I have no desire to make money off of this.
Moo Tee and I waited two hours at the DMV. Our number got called and we went back together. The woman typed in all her information and then had her put her forehead up to those goggle-looking things where she could take her vision test. The woman was beyond kind and gave Moo Tee 4 tries to get the line correct but Moo Tee was adamant that she couldn’t read any of the lines, not even the biggest one. I jokingly said, “Moo Tee!! You didn’t tell me you were blind!” She asked if she could still try to take the exam. Of course the DMV worker wouldn’t let her continue without first having corrective lenses. I agreed with that decision.
We drove home and talked about it. “Do you feel like your vision is blurry?” “No. I can see just fine.” “Well, was it just because you had to read her the letters in English that you had a hard time with it?” “No, I really couldn’t see those letters.” “Okay, so you do need glasses. Maybe you don’t realize your vision is blurry because you don’t know what it would be like to actually see clearly.” “Maybe?”. We got home and I sat in her living room and made an appointment at Walmart Vision center for their first next available appointment which wasn’t for a week and a half. I told Moo Tee, “I’ll be in Canada for my husband’s grandma’s funeral that day, but I can find someone who can drive you there.” She says, “Will you make the appointment for the next week then? I really don’t want to go without you.” No problem.
A couple weeks went by and I took her to Walmart early one morning. We got there before the doctor even arrived and tried on a few pairs of glasses. The doctor was a heavier set old white man with white hair and glasses and he was so kind. He was thrilled Moo Tee was coming in that day, after I told him she had never seen an eye doctor in her life. After he went through the shifting through of all the different lenses asking, “Which is better, 1 or 2. Okay, 3 or 4?”, etc. he got her to a good place and had her read a very small line on the wall. She nailed it. He turned on the lights and pulled the equipment away from her face and pointed to the wall saying, “You just read that line perfectly.” She was shocked. “Really??” The doctor and I both laughed simultaneously with giddiness! “YES! You really did!” She was a -2.00 in both eyes. It’s not a terrible prescription, but I’m a -1.75 in both eyes so I have a really good frame of reference to understand how insane that would be to have been seeing that poorly my whole life and not knowing there was an option to see better!
She paid the $65 appointment fee in cash, since I prepped her for that cost a few weeks before when we made the appointment together. As we walked back out to the front desk, she said to me, “I can pick out glasses for free with the appointment, right?” and I just hated saying, unfortunately glasses are expensive and are an extra cost. She was optimistic but told me that maybe we could return in a few months when her dad would have the money. But I told her, “There is no way we are leaving today without buying some glasses! You need to be able to see. Will you let me buy them for you?” She couldn’t believe it and began to thank me many times as she grabbed the pair of glasses she had really liked on herself before the appointment started. Bold black rectangle frames. They fit her perfectly. They would be ready for pick up in a couple weeks.
At the end of August one morning I got a call from Walmart telling me we could pick up her glasses. I wrapped up teaching for the day and ran over to Moo Tee’s apartment. The woman at walmart brought them out, got them all squeaky clean, and fitted them to her head. They looked great. The woman said, “Can you see better in them?” Moo Tee is shy, so she didn’t say much at first. She kept holding onto the sides of the glasses, staring out into Walmart, then lowering them a couple centimeters so her eyes could see above the tops of the frames, and then bringing them back up to her eyes again. Her shock was written all over her face. She was at a loss for words. But then she said, “Yes! It’s so much better. SO much better.”
We walked out to the parking lot and she continued her repetitive action of moving the glasses up and down on her face, checking her vision before and after glasses. She couldn’t believe it. “Chase! I can see so clearly!” I was overjoyed. Such a gratifying experience for me to meet such a tangible need. And I didn’t do it alone. The week prior, my friend, Jacquie who lives in Alaska now, had given her tithe money to me and “my ministry”. It was so unexpected and unnecessary, but so incredibly generous. Her gift gave us the freedom to pay for Moo Tee’s glasses without hesitation. God is so good. The whole drive home we kept giggling as she would speak of the tree leaves having more detail and the clouds too. I felt like not much could be more beautiful than these types of moments.
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Kay Pah, a high school Junior at Benson High, lives at our apartments. She’s one of four girls and is the second oldest. She has spent many conversations telling me she couldn’t go to prom because she didn’t have a boyfriend, and also, she’s not girly like her older sister, so she’d probably fail at prom anyway–not to mention she couldn’t afford a dress even if she wanted to go. Being girly or having a boyfriend were clearly not required in order to go to prom, and I was absolutely determined to not let money stand in the way of a high schooler getting to have a fun high school experience.
I posted to my instagram story the situation and that I would love to pick up people’s used, but in good condition, prom dresses, bridesmaid dresses, or the like. Over the course of the next 24 hours, I received 87 direct messages from women across Omaha telling me they had nice dresses they wanted to donate. I realized quickly this was going to become so much more than I imagined. I would actually be able to give Kay Pah a shopping experience, not just a one-option prom dress experience. She would actually be able to choose what dress she liked, and try on many options. Out of the 87, 18 of them were dresses in Kay Pah’s tiny size 0 range. Women from all over the city drove their dresses to my apartment and dropped them off with me. Kay Pah, her older sister Chit They Oo, and their friend Pyu Sin all came over a couple different afternoons and tried on dresses. They had so much fun and it was getting them so excited for prom. They had, for so long, assumed they’d never go to prom, and now they had no excuse. A few days later, I brought all the girls to target to pick out their foundation colors and some false eyelashes. They were so excited.
On the afternoon of May 5th, my friend Olivia, came over and we helped these three girls get ready for prom. Olivia did some amazing up-dos in minutes, and I did their makeup. I remember Chit looking in the mirror when everything was complete and she said, “Wow! I have literally never looked more beautiful!” and I can’t describe how happy that made me just to know she felt beautiful and knew her worth. We listened to music and talked about life and high school, the good and the bad, and everyone was in the highest spirits that day. It was also gorgeous weather, for one of the first weekends of 2018, so it felt like Jesus was definitely watching over us, ensuring their sweet sweet memories.
After everyone was complete, I treated them to a little photoshoot of individual pictures and group shots near some trees at our apartment complex. They had the best time pretending to be models and feeling gorgeous. We were all having so much fun and had been outside for a good hour when it was dinner time and maybe an hour before they needed to leave. I started to walk back to my apartment and say goodbye and good luck when I asked, “You’re all eating at Kay Pah’s right?” and I could tell they were embarrassed as one of them said, “Uhhh. We don’t have any food in our fridge. Chase, you know we pretty much don’t eat at home.” I realized how rude I had been to put them in that spot. I never go a day without food. Even after basically living with these people, I forget about the needs. It was prom, they needed a dinner together before they go dance the night away. I said, “I can have dinner ready in forty minutes. You may be a little late to prom but you ARE going to eat.” They were delighted. I cooked up some baked salmon and rice and we all sat together on the living room floor eating food in their prom dresses and me being reminded about how much I love these people and would do anything for them.
That night they each hugged me a million times before leaving in their other friend’s car who came and picked them up. I felt like a proud mama as I watched them leave. They all texted me around midnight that evening to say, “Prom was so much fun. We are so tired. Thanks for everything.” I fell asleep so happy.
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I had a girl reach out to me via instagram that I only knew of because of the photography community. I knew she was a Christian and her work was so beautiful. One day out of the blue she messaged me saying she felt led to ask me if she could help document some life in our apartments, for free of course. She wanted to give us something, to serve in some way. I felt so honored and we worked up a date she could swing by the apartments and capture some families that are so special to me.
The families had so much fun with this opportunity but more than that, most of them got their very first photo taken of their whole family…ever. Not just first professional photo of the family, first photo ever. I was so thankful to Madi, for her generosity, but also just for her demeanor, for the joy she had to be taking those pictures that day, and her patience while we waited for each family to get ready. She spent more than 2 hours taking photos and a few weeks later she got them to me and they were everything I could have imagined and more.
Many of my friends lovingly and sacrificially gave me money in order to afford the expensive project of printing these pictures (nice prints, not walgreens prints) and framing them too. I couldn’t have done it without so many people’s support. My friend Day Mu helped me one afternoon frame all the photos and then deliver them one by one to each family. It was unspeakable to see each family’s different reactions. Some were nearly in tears but most just took the big collage frame, sat by a window to get a better look and stared and pointed and laughed happily at each photo. They were so grateful and I felt so grateful too to see how the Lord has blessed me with such generous friends (old and new) to help me better love the people around me. Weeks later, I still love going into their homes and seeing these photos they’re so proud of hanging on their wall or leaned against the wall.
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All the bigger stories of ways Robbie and I have been able to help or ways we have been able to be an advocate for them are awesome and radical and tell such a great story of why God called us here. But I think what’s even greater than all these big moments are the small moments that happen each and every day. Call it cliche, but it’s true. The small moments are what have made me feel the fullest, have made me reevaluate my purpose and my future, and have brought me the closest to God.
At the end of May, we convinced a few teenage boys we didn’t know well at all to come along on a one-night camping trip with our good friends Gabe and Ashley. We brought seven kids with us, three elementary school girls and four teenage boys. We hiked out to our camp spot at Hitchcock Nature Center in Iowa, in the disgusting heat of the afternoon. We brought a cooler, tents, firewood, and other heavy items. All eleven of us were dripping in sweat when we arrived to our clearing. The only thing I could think about was cooling off in the shade and having a cold gatorade but Robbie and the boys were already ready to start playing hacky sack and Chi Loh. It ended up being my favorite camping experience ever (next to the other camping trip Robbie and I alone took with 5 teenage boys and one girl a couple months later). Cooking hot dogs over a fire, playing card games, exploring the woods, swinging in hammocks, getting eaten alive by “Korosoe’s best friends” –AKA mosquitos (a joke that started in May that we haven’t stopped mentioning yet. Korosoe is one of our favorite teenage boys.), singing songs all night by the fire, telling the stupidest jokes, going on night hikes in the dark, playing “Star tipping”, and waking up to egg tacos over the fire.
Over the course of the summer, the days grew longer and the air was warm and bright. It allowed for longer evenings spent with the kids and Robbie and I grew a tight bond with this group of boys. They started coming home from summer school expecting Robbie to be home from work already, but settling for me until he got there. They starting coming into our apartment without knocking just like the girls had been doing for months. Their friendships with each other also showed incredible improvement. And their English was improving too because they were talking to us so much.
Robbie and I really fell in love with this group of about ten youth this summer. They truly became as close as family. Sharing meals together at least four days a week, sitting on the playground behind the apartments in the sunshine swapping stories, watering their huge gardens in the back together. We went swimming across the street at the community pool countless times together where they all learned how to swim. Our friends Miki and Dustin who have access to a lake, took all of us and our kids out on the boat and rafted and swam all day one weekend. Robbie and the boys played an unreal amount of hours of Chi Loh, the Burmese “soccer volleyball” game most Karen men played in the refugee camps and still play in the back lot of our apartment, and they got so good at it. Dozens of video game nights with the boys playing Mario Kart til late, and a tradition we started of watching late night horror movies with about ten boys throughout the summer nights that carried over into most Friday nights after school started back up again (the boys always begging, “You don’t have plans Friday night yet do you?? Can we do a scary movie??!!”). We went to the zoo a few times too and I loved seeing the kids and moms alike light up in the “Lied Jungle” because everything reminded them of Thailand. We had a blast going with fourteen of us to Two Rivers Recreation Area with Gabe and Ashley, swimming in the river and grilling out for hours the last weekend of summer before they all went back to school. I remember we all came home that night and went straight to Ler Htee Moo’s apartment where his older sister Moo Paw was serving tons of rice noodle soup dishes to everyone celebrating her daughter’s first birthday. We were all tired, dirty, sun-burned, and had messy half-wet hair with our swimsuits still on underneath our clothes, but we all still gathered in his dark living room (only lit by the setting sun through the windows), and ate more food together. There were probably twenty people in that living room and everyone was being goofy and talking about our day at the river and I remember taking a deep breath and trying to imagine life being more happy than that moment. We ended the perfect day with a horror movie with all the boys in our living room, with Gabe and Ashley and Zach too. We all agreed it had been the best summer ever with a ridiculous amount of amazing memories made.
This semester looks so much different than the first semester we were here. The first semester, we were still very much in the trenches of putting effort into making our presence at the apartments known. Working hard to build trust and build lasting relationships with our neighbors. Most of that hard work is done and now we are reaping the harvest of that work. The kids come over for dinner and I love feeding them. I understand now why my mom always loved having my brothers’ friends over so often. It feels good to have a full living room always full of laughter and talk. These kids are great kids, with high respect for us, and they have made our lives so full and beautiful. In many ways, they are our friends, and we get to pour Christ’s love into them everyday. They add so much value and Robbie and I feel like parents as we take pride in imagining what kind of adults they’ll turn out to be and praying deeply we will still be a part of their lives.
This semester is full of homework nights in other people’s living rooms. They’ll all gather in an apartment and hang out waiting for Robbie’s help with math and appreciating him so much when they’re finished. Their parents don’t know English and can’t help them with homework. Can you imagine not having had homework help from your parents every time you needed it growing up? It makes me so happy Robbie is here and knows what he’s doing and he makes the learning fun. I had helped Eh You Paw, one of the 12 year old girls, with her homework multiple times when finally one day I didn’t know how to do something with her math and she had Robbie teach her. Next time she wanted help with homework she told me, “Actually, I want Robbie to help me because he makes it fun!!” I laughed and have to acknowledge the truth in that. Robbie makes everything more fun.
These kids are a part of our everyday life, popping in for twenty minutes sometimes or more often three or four hours, playing games on our living room rug, eating, having a bonfire in the garden area, or all of us walking over to Benson High School’s football field and walking the track, playing frisbee, tennis, or hacky sack nearly every evening before it gets dark and then Robbie and I go hang out with our adult friends. But that’s not to say our American friends aren’t involved. It’s been one of the coolest things to see our American friends be so very involved in our lives here. Just to name a few, Brett and Jeff Hicks, Jadee and Alex Marquez, Ashley and Gabe Jasso, Zach Davy, Neal Goodpasture, Nick Vanderveen, David Hanson, Jessy Thompson, Olivia Herr, Rachel Olson, etc. They’re always loving on our kids, always encouraging them and having fun with them. They see our kids as a part of their lives too and invest in them every chance they get. We are indebted to them. And as we have been a team with our closest friends to serve and love Karen people, it has brought our friendships with each other all the closer. We have a mission and a purpose beyond having a fun time, but it’s fun too. Life on mission with God is so exciting and adventurous and unpredictable and chaotic and wonderful.
One of, if not the coolest thing that’s come from the past 9 months here is we have six kids regularly attending church with us. Like I said in a different blog post, we don’t ask these guys to come with us. They want to come. They ask every Saturday on their own, “What service are we going to tomorrow?” and then the next morning they’re all waiting for us in the courtyard before we walk the half a mile to church. It’s the greatest. They stand up and sing the songs. They listen attentively to the message. Sometimes I wonder how we got so blessed. These kids are hearing about Jesus. They know his name and we are praying together. They come home and ask us questions like, “What does Salvation mean?” and “What does it mean to ‘glorify’ God?” It challenges Robbie and me to be better. I love answering those questions and helping them understand the Gospel. These kids are going to be powerhouses for Jesus one day, I just know it. One night recently in September, Zach and Brett and Jeff came over after dark and played guitar and sung worship songs together in our living room with about 8 kids for several hours. They all loved it and I truly felt so honored to worship among my American and Karen people.
It truly is the little moments. The moments where I took Thing Aye and his brother Thin Mwae (a 19 year old and a 16 year old boy) to DSW and found out that neither of them had ever been taught how to tie their shoes. Everyday they just knotted the laces up somehow and tucked them into the sides of the shoes. It seems so simple but them learning how to tie their shoes for the first time was the coolest. Thing Aye was so excited about it and couldn’t wait to keep tying his shoes “like an American”.The small moments Hser Gay Moo turns to me while she’s eating food I just provided her with and says, “Chase? Thanks for your food. And also, thanks for loving us.” She’s ten years old, guys! TEN! And those were her words verbatim. She’s precious and she has no idea that I truly couldn’t contain my love for her even if I tried. I am still braiding the girls’ long thick black hair nearly every day. I still come outside when they arrive home after school and they race as fast as their legs will take them to come bear hug my whole body. They give me an average of 6 hugs in a row before they leave my apartment even if they’re just leaving to go grab something from theirs and coming right back. Chat Htoo (12 years old) and Hser Gay Moo came home from their first days of school and said their teachers asked them to go around the room and tell their name and then tell the class who their favorite person in the world was and why. They couldn’t wait to tell me that they had both told their classes that “Chase Vanderveen” was their favorite person in the world and it’s because, “She’s so nice to us, loves us so much, hangs out with us everyday, makes us food and takes us camping and swimming!” My heart could have exploded.
Eh You Paw was going to be starting sixth grade at a brand new school in August. Her parents work nights and so they can’t go to things like school open houses and events. Eh You Paw always asks me if I will go with her to everything. She even asked me to walk her to her first day of school even though her mom is home then because she felt like she needed a friend. Eh You Paw and Korosoe are siblings and they’re amazing kids. Their parents are really incredible too and Robbie and I have a great relationship with the whole family. I was there for all the kid’s middle school orientation and their parents all signed these forms the school needed them to fill out via me walking them through it with a kid as a translator and then their parents trusted me to get it turned in with the kids. I was there when they figured out their locker combinations and met their new teachers and figured out where each classroom would be. I was there when Eh You Paw came home from her first day of middle school to tell me about how everything went and how it wasn’t as scary as she thought it would be. These kids are teaching me to live more selflessly and to live.
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So what is my day to day like right now, with a new semester in full swing, almost ten months into living here? I teach two moms, a single woman and one dad (a dad who doesn’t even live at the apartments, but drives here each day for me to teach him) English every day of the week from 9am until noon. They get 15 hours a week with me now and they’re making insane improvements because of it. They’re so dedicated. Their names are Day Mu, Hser Boe Paw, Moo Paw, and Eugene. I have been close with those three women for many months now, as they are 23, 27, and 23 years old respectively. They help me with some Karen and we really live life well together. I truly see them as friends, not students. They add just as much value to my life as the children do, and we spend just as much time telling stories and learning about each other as we do learning the nitty-gritty of English. I’ve been so proud of the way they’ve been unafraid to practice their English and to just be bold and try to make sentences even when it’s so hard. We gather in my living room each day and on the days when the kids are out of school randomly so we won’t have class, I find myself really missing them. So I’ll just go upstairs or across the courtyard and sit and hang out in their living rooms, soaking up the privilege of being a part of their family.
My afternoons are spent tutoring two days a week at my church to high school low income students, mostly Karen. I have to say I’ve become somewhat of a celebrity there because I know some of their language and they all follow me on social media and feel like they need to thank me for loving their people so much. They’ll call me the white Karen and I truly feel like it at times and I’m proud to wear the label. The other three days a week, I will always always have something to do whether that’s an appointment to take someone to, the DMV, grocery shopping with them, reading people’s mail and sorting out issues with medicaid or food stamps or the like, making phone calls for families to problem solve other problems either to the landlord or social security or calling their workplaces to ask questions for them.
A casual example of any given afternoon here would be, one day I was asked to help set up someone’s smart tv and the same thing happened that day that happened to Robbie and Gyung with our neighbors directly across from us. I realized quickly that they had just bought a big tv, not one with the capability to connect to the internet. So I was able to work with the dad to get the stubborn tv legs screwdriver’d off and then got the whole thing back into its original packaging. We shoved this big box into the floor of the backseat of my car to return it to Walmart and it barely fit in and of itself but then we put three full grown adults in the back seat and one in the passenger seat who all wanted to go grocery shopping. It was hysterical. They all sat cross-legged in the back seat with a tv shoved up against their knees. We had a good laugh and went on our way and got the whole thing sorted out.
But another example is just the other day, a neighbor knocked on my door with a piece of mail that said they needed to send in to the Department of Health and Human Services her oldest working son’s paystubs from the last nine months in order to lift a hold on their account and continue getting food stamps. You see, this is yet another family with 7 children. They are hard working and pay all their bills as best as they can, but they need food stamps to survive. She had been getting more than $400 a month for groceries. What a gift. But regardless this hold on the account was not good and we needed to resolve it and she had no idea what to do. Luckily Day Mu was still at my apartment after we were done with our English lesson so she was able to be my interpreter when Mya Thin came over to ask about this.
I spent an hour on the phone with the Department of Health and Human services trying to make sure of what we could do since the deadline to have these paystubs in by was in two days and they didn’t keep her son’s paystubs from the last nine months. Basically the only option was to obtain them and get them scanned and emailed as soon as possible. Problem is, her son doesn’t have a cell phone, so we couldn’t call him at work then and there to get him to bring it home and if he didn’t bring them home until the next day, it might be too late. I called human resources at his factory job and tried my best to explain who I was and why I was calling and asking for Tha Win’s paystubs. They were nice enough and understood the issue. They said they would send them home with him that day. It felt like we had hope for Mya Thin who was terribly worried about this situation. Unfortunately Tha Win got home that day and I came over to grab the pay stubs and scan them in when he told us he was never contacted by HR and didn’t know anything about the checks. I wasn’t sure what to do except plead with Tha Win about how important this was and he needed to bring them home tomorrow, on the deadline otherwise they would lose their food stamps.
The next day he came home early from work with a stomach ache but did remember the pay stubs. Praise God. I called my sister at work and asked her if she had a scanner. She said she had a meeting in thirty minutes that would last an hour and a half so if I got downtown right away, she’d help me get everything scanned in. She was so kind and interrupted her day and was late to her meeting just to get a dozen paychecks scanned in and emailed to me so I could email it over to the government.
I made another call that day back to the Department of Health and Human Services to make sure it was okay to email them over on the due date. They were absolutely okay with that and we got them in with just a couple hours to spare before their office closed that Friday.
A different day the same week I had a married Karen couple in their sixties come over with Day Mu to interpret and explained they had dropped his I.D. and social security card somewhere over the weekend and didn’t know what to do and needed my help. We problem solved some things and I got him to the DMV the very next day for a replacement I.D. card and we are still navigating the lost social security card.
Everyday is so different here and I never wake up knowing exactly what to expect. Some days I go to sleep and think about this life I’m living and almost can’t believe it. It’s radically different than any life I ever used to think I’d be living at 26 years old. But it’s radically better and more joyful than any life I ever thought I’d live either. I go to sleep each night and wake up each morning grateful that I got to choose to live among these people that have shared so much of their beautiful lives with me.
There are still more stories I have yet to write down, still more and more tiny moments that will never be spoken of and I have to be okay with that. That Jesus saw Robbie and me fit for these moments to be ours floors me. Thank you for this life. Thank you for these people. Thank you that Earth is not my home so I don’t need to work hard to make it comfortable. Hallelujah. God is good.
Robbie + Chase 
Chase! Thanks for taking the time to write all of this down. (Took me 90 minutes to read it all, so I know this must have taken you hours or days)! Your writing is sooo good. Can you share (or have you already shared?) pictures of the girls who went to prom? I’ll go check insta! I don’t really know what to say on here except thank you! Thank you to you and Rob for living on mission, for not making excuses, and being full of joy and love. These stories make my heart melt (“who’s your favorite person?” part made me want to cry – so sweet!) and if I am this proud, I know Jesus must just be overflowing. You are amazing and selfless and I’m so in awe! I love picturing all those confused people not understanding the life you’ve chosen. That’s all I have to say. You’re awesome and I love you!
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Wow! What a journey!
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