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Histoires d'immigrants: For the love of two countries
Par Jennifer Brookland
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For someone who grew up admiring the gold-brushed waters of Egyptian beaches and the magnificent ruins of Petra and Jerash, Ramia Badri’s first glimpse of America must have been a little underwhelming.
Blame it on the art supplies.
When Ramia got off the plane at O’Hare International Airport in Chicago, transportation authorities seized her suitcase full of paints and pots, oils and chalks that had set the scanner screaming. “You sit here. We’ll get back to you,” an officer told her.
Four silent hours later, after wondering if she would be allowed into the country at all, Ramia had missed her connection, and was alone at night in a new country.
But Ramia lets few things faze her. She got into a cab and told the driver to take her to her final destination of Muncie, Indiana. “You know you’re crazy, droite?” the driver asked. She didn’t know it was a four hour drive from Chicago.
Past the dark highways and cornfields of the Midwest, Ramia finally arrived to start the next chapter of her life in a dorm room of Ball State University. She planned on completing a master’s degree and taking a break from the horrible violence of wartime Iraq. It was not until years later Ramia realized she had made America her home.
