Happy Ramadan!

Because of the work I'm in and because of my shoe size, I tend to accumulate a lot of sneakers. That may sound like an understatement to those who have seem my closet, but not to those in the footwear industry. Everyday we are literally surrounded by piles of shoes in every color and material imaginable.

About a week or so ago I mentioned to my Pakistani neighbors that I sometimes can get free shoes, and if they tell me their shoe sizes I would keep an eye out for some freebies for them. Well, the usually reserved 14-year old Aisha rang my doorbell not long after and gave a piece of paper with her, her 3 siblings and her mother's sizes.

I know a few details about the family: the 4 children and 2 parents live in a house exactly the same size as mine; the father works the nightshift at 7-Eleven; the parents did not go to school and the father speaks limited English and the mother almost none; the parents consider any grade less than an 'A' "bad" and desperately want their kids to have an education; that after the age of 10 they send their children to a private Muslim school; they don't have a car; they buy clothes and toys from local yard sales. They are by no means living in abject poverty but their lifestyle is so basic and lacking in all the extras and self-entitlement of most American families that I find the contrast to my life startling.

So, desperately trying not feel all fancy and magnanimous and charity-like, I decided I would go to the employee store and find some bargains to buy for my friends and neighbors. I found shoes for the youngest last week. They tried them on in my front yard. As Afzl tried his flashy Dunks on, (and immediately insisted they fit perfectly before he barely got his toes in...) a young guy walking his dog past said, "Those are some really cool shoes!" He and his sister clutched their boxes in arm and rode their bikes one-handed back home home after sincerely thanking me.

Tonight I gave the 12-year old and 14-year old girls their shoes- just in time, as the 1st day of school is tomorrow. I know Asya was nervous she wouldn't have a pair in time. Aisha is so polite and reserved she would never let on if she was nervous or disappointed, but since she is 14 and is starting her 1st day of high school, I think having a new pair of shoes meant more to her than any of them.

Asya (12 year old) was so earnest when I asked her to try on the shoes to make sure they fit. She didn't want to see them until tomorrow morning when she put them on for school, so she tried them on covering her eyes! I hope she isn't disappointed when she finds she got the same exact pair as her little sister Eqra. Aysha wasn't home, but her brother said he would give her pair to her. He opened the box and said with all seriousness, " Oh, these are really cute." It is so obvious he is surrounded by girls all day long.

Later this evening the doorbell rang and there I found Asya and Eqra. Eqra is a pistol- wedges herself in the door, asks a million questions simultaneously, makes strange statements her sisters have to translate, a daredevil on a bike. Asya held a plate of food.

"Today is a holiday and we had to fast all day. Because we are Muslim. But we get to eat at night. Did you eat dinner yet?" she explained setting down the dishes on the kitchen counter. "Is it Ramadan?" I asked. Her eyes widened and she just grinned, pleasantly surprised that I had any inkling of her family's traditions. They had brought me a bowl of liquid-y fruit: halved grapes, bananas, apples, tamarind. On the side was a samosa filled with a spiced meat. I have no idea what kind of animal the meat came from, only that it was a delicious animal. Aysha showed up and we talked about how it must be easier for them to go to a Muslim school during Ramadam than to attend a public school like her cousin, who has to sit in a cafeteria surrounded by food and people eating for a whole month. Aisha seemed to genuinely like her shoes and thanked me as well.

Last week after I gave the little ones their shoes they came buy with a plate of rice and some raita. The following Saturday they gave me 4 leftover pastries from 7-Eleven. Asya told me her father had about a dozen he wanted to give me but she convinced him I wouldn't be able to eat them all- thank goodness! I really hope that they don't feel they have to re-pay me in any way for the shoes. On the other hand, I love the homemade food they give me, so I guess it's OK if they feel just a little indebted... They probably think I'm this lonely, American woman heating up TV dinners and eating with my cats for company and never know the pleasures of a good, home-cooked meal.

If they only knew how wrong they are. Except for the single, American and "eating with my cat" parts...