Multicultural mowing

Today Abdalhadi, who also plays on the high school soccer team (he's quite good), mowed our lawn. It was, I think, his first time on a riding mower, and he learned quickly and did a good job. It looked like he enjoyed it.

After he finished mowing, I paid him and phoned Gary to come back and pick him up. While we waited I asked him about how he came to be here. We sat down at this computer and I went to Google maps and we stumbled across the language barrier, went to an arabic translating website, and figured out where, approximately, in Gaza, he lived. Then we Abdalhadi explained (as far as I can tell) how he and his family have come to Canada from the Gaza Strip, via Syria. His father (also, as far as I can understand) spent some time in Iraq and United Arab Emirates and Jordan as well, in order to somehow help with their immigration process.

I'm a privileged, white, North American. He's from a middle eastern refugee camp, that he lived in with his six brothers and sisters. It's kind of a weird situation altogether to be talking to Abdalhadi, much less having him mow the lawn. It's strange, but wonderful too. The differences between us are significant, and also unimportant. I had offered him something to eat and drink, but he declined (he didn't even want to come into the house), explaining that this was a time of fasting for him and his family (they are muslim). They will go into Winnipeg to a mosque for worship. I asked if he thought they might choose to move to the city to be near a mosque (he said no).

So I wonder how long it might be before there's a mosque built in rural southern Manitoba. The German immigrants have come and built numerous churches, and there have been a few sidelong glances at them (perhaps more because they weren't satisfied enough with the many churches we already have on offer). Surely it's only a matter of time until a group of muslim immigrants build a mosque around here. It only makes sense really, doesn't it? I think so. I think I look forward to it.