For A Better Life

by Seneca Moraleda-Puguan

There’s this lady wearing hijab with a tired but smiling face I always see in our neighborhood.

I’ve seen her, her husband and four children, in our commune’s “apero” (get-together) to welcome new people in the neighborhood. I always see them on the bus.

And just recently, in my son’s free French class sponsored by our canton, there she was again with two of her kids. Her daughter is in the same class as my son.

I was hesitant to approach at first but I needed to have my two franc coins split into two one-franc coins, and she was the only one who had coins in her wallet.

From then on, we would walk together going home because we ride the same bus number. We would have conversations as we walked to the bus stop.

With our limited knowledge of French, and with her very limited understanding of English, we would try to share our lives and stories with each other.

We would bring out our phones for translation. She would translate from Persian to English, and vice versa for me.

I asked for her name but I couldn’t pronounce it. She asked for mine too, but I’m sure she forgot it. But one thing I knew about her was that her family fled Afghanistan and moved from one country to another until they found refuge here in Switzerland.

They are “Provisionally Admitted Foreigners” or holders of Permit F which grants asylum to citizens of countries with ongoing conflict.

With only a few words uttered: “montagne”, “three babies”, “difficile”, I came to understand that they had to go to the mountains with their first three children to seek a better life somewhere and flee from the terror of her country.

She said it was very difficult. And I can only imagine.

Though they have freedom here in Switzerland, this doesn’t mean their lives are now easier.

Since both she and her husband don’t speak French fluently yet, despite being here for one year and six months already, it’s difficult for them to find work.

They depend on social welfare and support from charities. Living in one of the most expensive countries in the world, it must be very challenging to live from day to day with what she says, “petit money”… little money.

“You, Colombia?” she asked. I said I was from the Philippines.

“In the Philippines…good?” I explained to her what my country is like. And she was amazed that there is no war where I come from.

She also asked me if my family was being supported by the Caritas charity. When I said no, she was shocked. She asked if my husband was receiving a salary, and she was surprised because she thought we were also refugees.

She asked if my husband speaks French, and I said no. She was in awe that my husband found work without learning the language. Maybe, the many Asians she knew also sought sanctuary in the neutral country we are in right now.

Yes, her family is just one of the many displaced families looking for a safe haven in Switzerland. Here in this nation, they are free to roam.

Their children are given free education. They are being supported by the government. This country gives them a home that was taken away from them by the people they call their own, and leaders who are not able to protect them.

Every day, when I bring my son to his class, I look forward to seeing my Afghan friend. Even if we struggle to communicate with each other, there’s this special bond that has been created between us.

Ever since I met her, I was inspired to pray for her and her family… that God will provide for them every single day, that they will find healing and peace where they are right now, and that they will realize that they are not alone and there’s always help that is available.

I pray that they may experience His goodness in their lives.

Knowing her and seeing her family also humbled my heart. It made me grateful for the peace and freedom that I get to experience in the many places God has brought my family and for God’s overflowing provision, favor, and faithfulness to us.

On our way home today, before we parted ways, she asked me about our family’s plan for summer. I told her we would be going around Switzerland.

I asked her about their plans. She said they couldn’t go out of Fribourg. With a family of six members, they couldn’t afford to take the train to go to Zurich or even the neighboring canton, Bern.

“Petit money”, as she would always say. My face smiled but my heart broke. I wish that they get the chance to see the many beautiful places my family gets to see. Hopefully, someday.

I hope both of us get to learn French pretty soon. I can’t wait to learn more about her and share more stories with her. I am eager for our children to become friends.

I pray that through my life and our friendship, she will find encouragement and hope. It must have been a very difficult decision to leave their families and friends behind, not knowing if they’ll ever have the chance to see each other again.

Soon, I plan to invite her family for a meal with my family so that they may know here and now, that they are welcomed and accepted; and that in this place, they will have friends and family.

They too, like every one of us, deserve a better life.

In the coming elections, I hope that the leaders we choose will not just think of their own agenda and self-gain but seek after the displaced and the vulnerable, the weak and the broken, the hurt and the helpless.

Because they too, like all of us, deserve a better life.