On Community

I learned how to knit this weekend.  It's not really something I'd ever pictured myself learning until pretty recently.  But now that I've learned, I really see how relaxing it can be.  I thought it might be monotonous, and it probably would be if you did it alone, but in a roomful of people, it's a different matter.

When I arrive at our crafting meetings every Saturday morning at around 9:30, there's a definite order to things.  I come in, greet the family and any other attenders who have come early, and shed a few layers of winter outerwear.  I'm not on the couch two minutes before Deoka or Goma comes out of the kitchen with hot chai.  Over the next half hour or so, the other crafters wander in, and the conversation consists mostly of greetings and asking about everyone's family.  If we were only there for a visit, things might get awkward after that since we don't have a whole lot to talk about.  But early on, someone gets out their week's worth of knitting.  We all ooh and ahh over each piece as they pull it out, occasionally stopping to try one on for size or to pass it around so everyone can feel the softness or inspect the pattern closer.
Next we pull out the new yarn and spend a good amount of time discussing who will take which skeins and which colors can be used together. When everyone is satisfied with their lot, the knitting needles come out and Deoka's living room takes on a different feel.  Everyone finds that they have something to chat about.  Usually the loudest conversation is in Nepali.  Sometimes we have concurrent conversations in Karen (Burmese), Arabic, and/or English.  Knitting takes the pressure out of the need for talk, though.  On the rare occasion that the room does fall silent, there's none of the awkwardness of a lapsed conversation.  No one feels the need to entertain or be entertained since we all have a common purpose.
Sometimes the kids or non-knitting relatives come in and put on Nepali TV shows (complements of youtube).  All the Nepalis watch with rapt attention, and I love to watch the expressions rise and fall with every emotional twist and turn--of which there are many.  Episodes ricochet from passionate love ballads to epic battles or emotional final goodbye scenes that would put the most gut-wrenching of American soap operas to shame for their blandness.
Can I say we're building a tightly-knit community without getting boo-ed off the stage?  One of the biggest problems in the refugee community is loneliness and isolation.  Time alone is time in which a refugee's mind inevitably returns to horrors of the past or memories of loved ones lost or left behind.  Spending a Saturday afternoon in amiable conversation and pleasant company is intrinsically valuable.  Sure, we offer a way for the unemployed to supplement their family's income, but I don't think the money is what keeps people coming back.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have some knitting to work on.  --Kara