ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Monday, November 25, 1996 TAG: 9611250007
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: C-1 EDITION: METRO
COLUMN: A Cuppa Joe
SOURCE: JOE KENNEDY
MEMO: ***CORRECTION***
Published correction ran on Nov. 26.
Corrections
St. Mark's Lutheran Church in Roanoke is providing help to a family
of Kurdish refugees. A column in Monday's paper identified the wrong
church.
Six weeks ago, Khachik Daneyelian had a house, a car, a job, a TV, a VCR and other amenities in his homeland of Kurdistan, in northern Iraq.
As security chief in a town on the Turkish border, he often escorted American and United Nations officials when they visited the region.
But Iraqi troops entered the area in early September to help one of the warring factions. They vowed to kill anyone who had worked with Americans.
For two weeks, Daneyelian and his family lived in terror. Then, at midnight Sept. 15, someone knocked on their door and told them to come along. They climbed into cars and crossed to safety into Turkey. A day or two later, they flew to another camp in Guam.
And on Nov. 13 at 11 p.m., they landed at Roanoke Regional Airport - Khachik, his father, his wife, four siblings, his uncle, his aunt and their six children - 15 people in all.
Ranging in age from 10 to 67, they were the latest political refugees to come to the valley, and the first of several dozen Kurds expected to arrive in the weeks ahead.
No job, no money, no authority
The next day, Khachik, 34, awoke in a house on Chapman Avenue in Southwest Roanoke. He had lost his job, his money and his authority. He had gained his life, his family's lives and freedom.
Think about it.
On the morning of Nov. 18, Khachik and most of his family gathered in the living room of the two-story, brick-and-shingle house. The women wore long shifts. Khachik and his cousin Missak, 26, wore jeans and sweaters. Their feet were bare.
In English, Khachik asked about jobs, money, transportation and telephone service, things he had taken for granted in his homeland.
Barbara Smith, executive director of Refugee and Immigration Services, told him about Social Security cards, Medicaid eligibility and upcoming health exams.
Helpers from St. John's Lutheran Church would arrive later to start them on the rounds of social service agencies, she said, and within a few days, a house would be ready for Missak's family to move into.
Khachik asked many questions and listened intently. "Yes, of course," he said. "Yes, of course."
Only once did he disagree with her.
Smith recommended that he and his family not get a telephone until after they qualified for Medicaid, because it would be cheaper then. She also told him that many refugees run up hundreds of dollars in phone charges in their first month here. A block against outgoing long distance calls could prevent that, she said.
"Telephone is necessary for us for many reasons," Khachik insisted. Alone in a new world, he and his family wanted to try to reach relatives back home and friends from the camp on Guam.
Smith didn't push.
1,800 resettled in S.W. Virginia
Since 1979, working with the U.S. State Department, the refugee service has helped resettle some 1,800 people - from Southeast Asia, Bosnia, Cuba, Haiti, Eastern Europe, Africa, Afghanistan, the Caribbean and other troubled places - in Southwest Virginia.
Should they be here? Why not? They take low-income jobs, work hard and fit in well, as immigrants - including our ancestors - have done for generations. They have the same hopes and worries we all have.
"What's our future?" Khachik asked anxiously at one point. At another, he said, "We don't know how the people in Roanoke accept refugees. We have friends, some people in some states where they don't like refugees."
"The community here is very welcoming," Smith assured him.
Financed mainly by the State Department and Virginia's Office of Newcomer Services through the Catholic Diocese of Richmond, the refugee service helps the political refugees find jobs with benefits so they can pay their own way. Usually, this takes only a few weeks.
Khachik, a Christian of Armenian extraction, had a big advantage: He speaks English, in addition to Armenian, Arabic and the Kurmanji dialect. Others in the family know some English, too. And both he and Missak know how to drive. Smith hoped someone would donate a car.
Still, the Daneyelians were leery.
"We're in a big jail," Khachik said, pointing to the living room walls, "and we can't go out."
"It's not dangerous," Smith told him, encouragingly. "Go for a walk. You're safe here."
What's your story? Call me at 981-3256 or send e-mail to kenn@roanoke.infi.net. Or write to me at P.O. Box 2491, Roanoke 24010-2491.
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