The other way

Today I had a new encounter with the Somali father I have written about earlier, at the kindergarten. I have no clue about his name. This time he actually greeted me... But not exactly with a smile on his face- Hmmmm!

He is very smartly dressed. He weares shoes that I can't afford! He also drives around in a brand new minivan.

Oh!- He does not talk any Swedish or English...

He has a vife in the usual tent-and-hijab-style, that the few times I've seen her walks three steps behind her husband, looking down at the pavement.

To my surprise, acouple of days ago I met her in the kids dressing room alone! She actually took eye contact with me, smiled and said hello (in Swedish).

While we were undressing our kids we had a conversation of this and that. After the usual politenesses I asked her:

- So, what do you do for a living?

She missunderstood the question and said:

- I have an university degree in echonomics.

-Oh, I said- but where do you work?

- Oh no, she laughed. I don't work. I'm married!

- Ahh, I said. But your husband. What does he do?

- He is a craftsman, she replied.

- And where does he work? I asked, knowing allready what she would say...

- No, he does not have any work. It is very hard to find jobs if you do not know Swedish. (What a surprise).

-Oh, by the way. How long have you been in Sweden? I asked.

- Three years. Was her reply.

(This is factual events.)

Think about this for a minute or two!