Volume 6 Issue 2

A forum

for stud

ent exp

Volume 6, Issue

ression

2

ARROW

Renton High School 400 South 2nd Street Renton, WA 98057 11.26.13

abraham

muse

hassan

tesfatsion

hassan

meef

hussein

mohamed

alem

huessein

WARSAME

ali

tilahun

tilahun

arale

abdi

hassan

osman

MUHAMED

Ahmed

They are the Horn of Africa.

Hopeful y you know about the Horn of Africa, but if not.. senior Tsehainesh Tilahun born in Gondar, Ethiopia page 14

junior Haben Abraham connected to Asmara,Eritrea page 11 senior Fiyori Tesfatsion connected to Adi Nfas, Eritrea page 12 & 13

FOOD

Africa: the earth’s second largest continent. That’s right, continent, not country. Some people treat Africa as a homogenous mass, where people called “Africans” live, communicate in “African” and hunt for diamonds in the jungle. In reality, Africa is one of the globe’s most diverse continents: spoken languages are estimated at around 2000, and that doesn’t include dialects.

When it comes to food in the horn, teff flour is a staple. Breads such as Injera are made out of Teff, as well as many other things, such as soup thickeners. The food contains the general spices found within the Indian Ocean and the surrounding region, including cardamom, saffron, fenugreek, peppers, aswan seed and more. Spice mixtures, such as Ethiopian Berbere (a spicy crimson powder used to flavor things from soups to marinades), are also important to the cuisine.

Goat, camel, sheep, chicken, beef and fish are popularly consumed meats. Pork isn’t common in this region as Islam, Ethiopian Christianity and Judaism prohibit it. Dairy is a staple in the region, as are spiced teas and Turkish coffee, which is brewed on the stove and is brought to a boil several times before forming a thick froth and being served without cream.

sophomore Suaad Hersi connected to Hargeisa, Somalia page 7

Lindbergh senior Abdi Meef connected to Mogadihu, Somalia page 4

GEOGRAPHY All of these countries have terrains which range from mountains to highlands to lowlands and plains.

A large majority of the land is highlands and mountains, with mountain ranges encompassing the central region of Ethiopia and spreading into North Western Somalia as well as Djibouti and Eritrea. In Ethiopia’s south eastern and western regions, the area is largely plains and lowlands. Ethiopia’s south western plains continue to stretch into Somalia.

On Africa’s easternmost point lies a great sample of the continent’s diversity: the region commonly deemed “The Horn of Africa.” Commonalities include everything from spices, technologies, Islam and instruments like the oud and qanun.

TWEETS FROM THE HORN I’m East African. It’s a small country called Eritrea (Mia @MissMiaBella) • In 2008 Isais Afwerki said elections in Eritrea would be held in “3 or 4 decades” (Elison Karuhanga @Elisonk) • at #UN, @AmbassadorRice tells Press US wants sanctions on Eritrea for helping AlShabaab & plan v AU& famine?

Targeted sanctions, she says (Inner City Press @innercitypress) • Marines and

sophomore Ridwan Hussein connected to Somalia page 10

@USArmy soilders fire the big rounds during a live-fire excersize in Djibouti (U.S Marines @USMC) USA is responding to the increasing security threat in E. Africa by strengthing military bases in Kenya & Djibouti (NTV Kenya @ntvkengya) • Consecutive years of #drought have depleted food & water in #Djibouti (FAO in Emergencies @FAOemergencies) • Somalia: Somalia Airlines Back in Action: The Federal Government of Somalia has confirmed that...

senior Asiya Hassan born in Mogadihu, Somalia page 10 First Pass Driving Instructor Mohamed Hassan born in Mogadishu, Somalia page 5 MUSIC The music in the Horn is mainly pentatonic, with a scale containing five notes per octave. Although pentatonic scales can be found in other cultures, for the most part the heptatonic, or seven note per octave scale, is standard. Native instruments, such as the begena (an Ethiopian bowed instrument) are also played, and even when Arabic instruments are used they are used in a way that has many more local than Arabic characteristics.

(iEthiopia @iEthiopia) • Support our bake sale for the cyclone that displaced thousands in Somalia... you are not forgotten (SomaliStidentsUnited @MacewanSSU) • #Somalia Alleged Rape Victim Arrested (allAfrica.com @allafrica) • #Somalia: Fears of disease outbreaks follow tropical #cyclone (ReliefWeb @reliefweb) • Very cool documentary on global #Diaspora Somali student initiative to support projects back in #Somalia, a must see!

(Fatuma @Fatumaabdulahi) • The solution to #Ethiopia and #Eritrea is not boundary demarcation instead destroying the boundary... (Yehabesha.com @yehabeshadotcom) • Ethiopia: Survivors find sanctuary and second chance through Ethiopian safe houses (gcm Ethiopia @gcmcEthiopian) • Awkward moment when @BBCSports @BBCAfrica don’t report #Eritrea cyclisit dominating Tour of #Rwanda... (Filmon Zerai @EritreaStuggle)

Illustration and Text by Aidan Chaloupka and Khamren Gulley

ETHIOPIA

The only landlocked country in the Horn, Ethiopia also comprises the largest land mass in the region as well as having the largest population of any country in the Horn.

Ethiopian Orthodox Christianity or “Tewahedo” is the predominant religion in the country, with 43.5% of the population identifying with it, according to the 2007 census. Tewahedo Christianity has a long history in Ethiopia, with Ethiopia being one of the first nations to gain large numbers of Christian converts. In 333 C.E., after King Ezana’s conversion to Christianity, Ethiopia became the second nation (after Armenia) to institute Christianity as the state religion.

Other major religions include Islam, which 33.9% of the population report as following. Islam also has a long history in Ethiopia, and some of the earliest of Muhhamed’s followers are said to have ventured here from Yemen in the Arabian Peninsula.

Other considerable religions include Protestant Christianity, Catholicism, Judaism and traditional beliefs.

Ethiopia has a diverse array of spoken languages, by some estimates a minimum of 70. Of these languages the majority fall into the Semitic, Omotic and Cushtic language branches, with some lesser spoken tongues falling into other categories.

The major ethnic groups in Ethiopia are the Oromo (34.5%), the Amhara (26.9%), Somalis (6.2%) and Tigraway (6.1%). The native Ge’ez alphabet is mainly used for writing, though other alphabets like Arabic are also used.

Though portions of the nation were colonized, Ethiopia as a whole was never colonized, despite repeated Italian invasions.

Because the country made it a priority to continually upgrade military technologies in the 19th century, they were successful in driving back the Italians; however, after losing pace with 20th century military advances, they capitulated to Italian airplanes and tanks, their 19th century weapons rendered ineffective in a 20th century war. Ethiopia remained occupied until World War II, when British assistance combined with the withdrawal of Italian troops left Ethiopia open to liberation.

SOMALIA

At the point of the Horn lies Somalia. Somalia is home to various ethnic groups, though Somalis make up an 85% majority. The Swahili, Oromo and Arabic tribes are the most numerous minorities, comprising 15% of the population. Somali, Oromo and Swahili comprise the main first languages in the country, with English, Arabic and Italian comprising common secondary languages. Traditionally, a modified Arabic alphabet was used for writing; however the Somali language had many vowels not present in Arabic. As such, multiple local alphabets arose in the 20th century, such as Osmanya. However, after a coup de’at, the Latin alphabet became primarily used to write Somali.

The nation is predominantly Islamic, with 99% of the population identifying with Islam. Although a precise year cannot be identified for the spread of Islam to Somalia, the country’s proximity to the Arabian Peninsula made it one of the first areas where Islam gained a considerable following in. By the end of the seventh century, Islam had a considerable foothold in what would later become Somalia.

0In 1887, in hopes of defending their bustling, Suez Canal based business expenditure in the Red Sea; Britain colonized portions of the neighboring region of Somalia. Soon after, Italy expanded its territory in Eastern Africa and pushed into Somalia. During the early 20th century, faced with constant tribal attacks, Britain scaled down its efforts in Somalia, occupying only coastal areas. In turn, the Italians expanded even further inland, consolidating even more territory.

Italy continued to expand, merging parts of Ethiopia with Somalia to form Italian East Africa. Following the aftermath of WWII and their defeat, Italy relinquished their hold on their Somalian colonies. Britain continued to maintain their Somalian colonies, however, this would soon change. In 1948, the U.N. was given control of the former Italian regions, however in 1950; the U.N. gave Italy authority mandate their former Somalian colonies for another decade. Following this decade, independence was to be granted. In 1960, the nation of Somalia was formed through the combination of the former Italian and British territories.

Somalia is currently in a political crisis. After widespread discontent in 1991, president Siad was deposed. A power vacuum followed, as various powers competed for influence. For the next two decades, Somalia was composed mainly of autonomous regions. However, in 2012 a centralized parliament was again instated.

Illustration and Text by Aidan Chaloupka and Khamren Gulley

Some of us were born in the Horn, and others have ties.

ERITREA

DJIBOUTI

Nestled among Somalia, Ethiopia and Eritrea, Djibouti consists of the land that used to compose the French colony of “French Somaliland.” The nation has two main ethnic groups, the Somali Issa (60% of the population, mainly residing in the south), and the Afar (35% of the populations, mainly residing in the north). Somali and Afar are main first languages, while French and Arabic are the main second languages. The region has had close ties to the Arabian Peninsula for millennia; Islam has been present in Djibouti since 825, C.E., and today 94% of the people identify as Muslim.

Following two decades of French presence in the port city of Obock, France colonized Djibouti in 1884. It was nearly a century, in 1977, Djibouti was finally granted independence. However, interethnic disputes broke out. Head of state Hassan Gouled, an ethnic Issa, instituted a one party state in hopes of crushing opposition. The party had a disproportionate amount of Issa members and hardly any Afar and even after international pressure forced Gouled to accept a limited system of multiple parties, the Afar were still excluded.

SOURCES Ethiopia: 1. Africa: Mountains of Faith. 2. http://www.indexmundi. com/ethiopia/demographics_profile.html. 3. http://africa.si.edu/ exhibits/inscribing/geez.html. 4. Prelude to War Video Library: The Invasion of Ethiopia. 5. http://africa.si.edu/exhibits/inscribing/geez. html. 6. Keller, E. Ethnic Federalism, Fiscal Reform, Development and Democracy in Ethiopia. 7. Jonas, R. When Ethiopia Stunned the World. Djibouti: 1. Africa 2013: The Republic of Djibouti. 2. http://globaledge.msu.edu/countries/djibouti/memo. 3. http:// elearn.fiu.edu/e-dev/WorldExplorer/continents/africa/djibouti/djibouti_cultural_info.htm. 4. http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-africa-13231761. Somalia: 1. http://www.ii.umich.edu/asc/africaindex/ country/somalia. 2. Ahmed, A. The Invention of Somalia. 3. Tosco, M. Somali Writings. pdf. 4. http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/worldafrica-14094503. Eritrea: 1. Eritrea Demographics Profile 2013: http://www.indexmundi.com/eritrea/demographics_profile.html.

2. http://plaza.ufl.edu/gguillet/Geo_Website/Pages/dannsapp.htm.

Primarily comprised of Ethiopia’s former coastal territories, the nation of Eritrea arose in 1991 after decades of conflict with Ethiopia.

Following continued feelings of Ethiopian neglect, the population overwhelmingly voted in favor of independence, with over 99% of the population supporting it. The major ethnic groups are the Tigrinya, whom constitute approximately 49% of the population and the Tigre, whom constitute 32% of the population. Eritrea’s main languages are comprised of Tirginya, Tigre and Arabic, with a multitude of other languages also present in smaller amounts. Religiously, Eritrea is unique among the Horn, as it is estimated to have a nearly even religious split between Islam and Coptic Christianity.

Like Ethiopia and Somalia, Eritrea faced Italian colonial aggression; the whole of Eritrea was colonized from 1861 until 1941. Although Eritrea initially put up fierce resistance to the Italians, Eritrea eventually lost the will to fight.

However, some eventually found this to be opportune. Italian occupation meant Eritreans didn’t have to deal with other aggressors like Egypt, it also meant a hope of technological advancements from being part of the Italian empire. Following the withdrawal of Italy in the aftermath of WWII, the British briefly administered Eritrea from 1949 until 1952, when the U.N. voted to make it part of Ethiopia.

Their stories live here with us.

GREENER PASTURES

It’s hard when you first get here.

THE PLEDGE I made contact with an old friend from Lindbergh through Facebook, who told me he had a Somali friend. I had him arrange for me a lunch date.

Even stranger, this man claimed he knew me. Honestly could not for the life of me remember knowing a Somali who matched the description provided by my friend.

A few days went by, and I found myself sitting at Mama’s Teriyaki, looking around anxiously for a guy of Somali descent.

Thirty minutes passed, so I decided to go to the bathroom.

As I closed the bathroom door and made my way back to my spot in the restaurant, I saw somebody in a chair at my table. I walked over and greeted him.

He said, “It’s been a long time since we last met.” I didn’t want to start our meeting on a note of misunderstanding and proceeded with the interview as planned. I asked him to tell me the story of his life in the United States from the beginning.

POLITICAL EXILES Seventeen-year-old, Abdi Meef, was born in Kenya after his parents fled Somalia during a civil war when Somalia was tight with political tension.

Ali Mahdi Muhammad did not want to step down when the time for re-election came. This resulted in rebels striking back at the government in a series of violent acts to government workers or people who supported the president.

Meef’s father was a government worker with deep professional roots in the government. Rebels had thrown Molotov cocktails into the family’s house while Meef’s father and mother slept inside. Meef’s father awoke to the sound of AK-47’s blasting lead deep into the night.

His face was illuminated by a flickering orange and red light coming from outside the bedroom door. Meef’s father reached for the door handle, burning his hand on contact.

Realizing the house was on fire and trapped in the bedroom, he escaped with his wife by smashing open the bedroom window as the violent roars of the rebels shook the house. The couple ran together hand in hand down the orange lit street, the light and screams fading the farther they ran.The next morning, Meef’s father called his connections and chartered a plane out of the country to Mombasa, where Meef was born. During Meef’s early years, he listened to his father tell him stories about Somalia.

The living conditions in Mombasa were harsh. With no air conditioning, the small house felt like an oven. The smell of litter and filth from the streets wafted in and out of the house.

Stone floors made walking a chore. His father had no job and his mother worked countless jobs to put food on the table. Meef’s father had plans though; move to America and start life anew in the land of opportunity. Shortly after Meef turned two, he and his family moved to a small apartment in Northgate located in Washington where he experienced the good and the bad of growing up in a different country.

THE EYES OF A CHILD Meef remembers the first time his sister went to American school. He was playing with his Legos in the kitchen as his mom clanged pots and fried cinnamon and cumin in an oiled pan.

Meef’s mother told him to take a look outside their window to see if his sister was returning from school. Meef stood and rushed to the small blurry window streaked with rain.

As he peered into the vast unknown of the city, he spotted his sister running from a long yellow truck, using her binder as a cover from the rain to keep her plaid skirt and white button up shirt from getting wet. Meef saw strange looking children whose skin was pale playing around a tree nearby. He looked at them with a puzzled expression, as if hes never seen kids like these before. “The first thing I realized was everything in America was huge,” Meef said. “And America was filled with strange people.”

He molded heaven from hell

He stood there and marveled at cars whizzing by at alarming speeds on the highway just outside the neighborhood.

“It also occurred to me that... everything in this country moves frickin’ fast,” Meef said. His sister burst through the door, soaked. Binder in hand, she threw her floral backpack on the floor and immediately began working on her homework.

“I looked at her paper and saw small black dots after every strange arrangement of lines and curves,” Meef said. “I asked her what the [black dots] were, and this was when I learned what a period was.”

STRANGERS LIKE ME His first clear school memory happened at Lunshai Elementary. Meef’s mother woke him at 9:00 a.m. telling him to rise and get ready for school. Meef’s mother walked Meef and his sister toward the bus stop in the rain. As they stood there accompanied by the sound of rain hitting concrete and the glow of early morning streetlights reflecting off the wet ground, Meef began to cry.

“I don’t know why, but I treated this moment as if I was going to see my mom for the last time,” Meef said.

The school bus arrived and he boarded the bus after his mom handed him his lunch and told him not to eat it until lunch time. His sister sat with her friends, and for a good twenty seconds he stood there, taking in the chaotic massive knot of children and backpacks.

He spotted an empty place in the back by a window, moved to it, and sat down with his lunch in hand. “I remember the back of the seat in front of me being completely covered with wads of gum,” Meef said. “I couldn’t help but feel alone.” Slowly he opened his brown paper lunch bag. Tears fell onto his hands as he pulled out his favorite bologna and mustard sandwich with the crusts cut off. He took a bite.

“I don’t remember asking my mom to put salt into the sandwich,” Meef said. “I realized, it was my tears that were making the sandwich salty.” Meef got off the bus and traversed the confusing landscape of the bus drop-off zone by himself. Kids around him stared at him, and he felt their stinging gaze cut into him like knives splashed with lemon.

He pushed his way to the entrance of the school. “At this point,I treated everyone like a threat,” Meef said. “I did not make any friends.” In the classroom he was welcomed with silence and more awkward and curious stares. The children sat in a circle and complimented one another to break the ice.“I didn’t pay attention to anything the class was doing,” Meef said. “I couldn’t stop staring at this giant caterpillar on the wall.” He stood up to investigate. “It was colorful with greens and yellows. I was so unbelievably confused. I thought, ‘Why in the hell do these people have this pasted up on the wall?’” Meef returned to his spot in the circle.

He looked back at the giant paper cut out of a caterpillar one more time to satisfy his curiosity. “I don’t understand these people or this place,” Meef thought. He felt uncomfortable and sick so he asked the teacher if he could go home. She replied no and sent him to the nurse.

As he left, some kids whispered something disturbing.

“They told me that the nurse was going to try to take my soul through the vein on my wrist,” Meef remembered. He then wandered out of the hall and into the endless labyrinth of hallways with an unsettling look on his face. “I soon found out that she really was just checking my pulse,” Meef said.

THE TURN As seasons changed and birthday candles got snuffed and tossed, middle school came and along with it, the tears and frustrations of teen life. “It’s strange that the most memorable time of middle school was in 8th grade when I was new to the school,” Meef said. The school year has gone relatively quick and before he knew it, it was time to say goodbye to it.

Smiling and excited that it was the last week of school, as he walked through the halls sporting new Nike Air pumps, five figures dressed in black materialized, and before he knew it, they were upon him.

“I got jumped by five guys armed with binders,” Meef said.

“They beat me down with binders against a locker. Once again, I was confused. I do not understand these people.” They smacked him over and over again, each painful blow echoinWg through the catacombs of Nelson Middle School. “I decided this had to end, so I punched one of them in the face,” Meef said. “I am so done with this country!”

The five boys retreated down the hallway snickering and laughing. Meef picked up his stuff and brushed off his shoes. On his way to class, people stared at him. “All these damn faces… staring at me like I was some sort of monster,” Meef said, “like I was the one who f**ked up.”

During lunch, Meef went to the bathroom to freshen up. “As I was peeing, somebody came behind me and slapped the back of my head hard with foam soap,” Meef said. “I didn’t even know these people. Why would they do this to me?” The thief who stole his happiness scurried away back into the hallways.

In tears, Meef finished peeing and walked over to the sink to wash off the soap from the back of his head. “I then told myself that the world I now inhabit is full of sick and cruel people. I thought, ‘I no longer want to be part of it. I am going to kill myself… tonight.’” Soon after this another boy entered the bathroom. “I thought he was going to come and tear me down as well,” Meef said. “Instead he patted me on the back, smiled and complimented me on my shoes.”

Meef said thank you and smiled back. “I later heard that this guy’s name was Dii, and he saved my life,” Meef said. “He taught me that the small acts of kindness can actually make a difference.” This was a major turning point for Meef. “I learned that the worst stories and experiences are the ones that are never told.”

FORGED BY FIRE Freshman year of high school was painful and hard for Meef. “It was hard for me to with stress from homework and being an outcast at the same time,” Meef said, “so I began to overeat and not doanyschoolwork.” He felt like he existed without existing to people, a ghost or invisible man walking the hallways of Lindbergh High School. “I had no friends and I was all alone,” Meef said. “The bullying stopped, but what killed me was the loneliness.”

Meef went through his freshman year speaking only when he had to and looking at people even less. “My self-esteem and my past experiences with people made me push everyone away. I was afraid to speak,” Meef said. It didn’t help that while the bullying mostly stopped at school, it started at home. “My cousins began to bully me about being fat every chance they got,” Meef said, recalling his sophomore year. “I only overate because I was depressed and alone.

They told me [I would never] change.” Meef lost it. He put all of his energy into changing—no matter the cost. He got a gym membership and worked out more and more. With each rep pulled and pushed, he gained confidence. “I remember staying at the gym on Saturdays from noon until it closed at night,” Meef said. “I worked out so hard that my fingertips even hurt.”

Meef grew stronger and smarter and ultimately happier. He gained confidence and made peace with those 8th grade bullies.

Unsure if they recognized him years later, he joined their group during sixth period math class. “We joked and laughed and yes they did eventually find out who I was,” Meef said. “They couldn’t believe it was me. Turns out, we actually had a lot in common.” The five of them hung out a bit Meef’s junior year. “I never thought that these guys would become my best friends,” Meef said. “I’m a senior now, and looking back I realize something, Everybody who bullied me and hurt me were only trying to fit in, just like me.” Meef enjoys running long distances, spending time with his family, going to church, and finding ways of involving himself in various community activities. He is thinking about joining the basketball team. “I’m unstoppable. I’m thankful for everybody who helped make me what I am today.”

meef

THE PRESTIGE “So you came a long way,” I said, wiping chicken oil and teriyaki sauce from my lips. “Indeed I did, looking back on it though, I realized it was all worth it,” Meef said. After I sipped my iced coffee, I signaled the waitress to bring our check. “Hey Abdi, I don’t want to sound conceited but, was I the guy you met in the bathroom?” I said.

He rests his folded hands calmly on the table. “You saved my life,” Meef said. “I would’ve been dead in my bedroom with a bottle of pills in my hand if it wasn’t for you.” I slowly feel my jaw begin to drop but I catch it with my hand. Before I know it, my vision begins to look like all the colors are running and turning to gray. I rub my eyes to dry my tears and smile. I pay the bill and leave a small tip on the table. My friend and I make our way out the door, shake hands and hug. “You should add me on Facebook bro, we can talk gossip,” Meef said, snapping his fingers like a sassy girl. “Will do comrade, will do,” I said.

Photo and Text by Dii Miller

Driving back in time TO WHEN TECHNOLOGY DIDN’T EXIST

Mohamed Hassan, known as Moha by his students, is a Somalia-born driving instructor from First Pass Driving School.

“He’s patient and understanding,” junior Alina Tarng said. “He’s also open-minded and he has the attitude to teach anyone and everyone.”

Hassan is an easy to talk to person, and that’s probably why his students like and respect him.

“He’s funny and likes to joke around while teaching or even when you’re driving sometimes,” Tarng said.

“I want to look forward, not look back,” Hassan said, joking after saying that he doesn’t really have a life.

But Hassan did look back. He looked back to the thirty some years he lived in Somalia.

“My childhood was just going to school every morning,” Hassan said, leaning back in his chair, thinking back to his days in Somalia. “And later in my day, coming back home and doing my homework. If I have the time I would just hang around with friends. Going to bed when it’s the right time.”

Although it sounds like a pretty normal childhood, there was one major thing that Hassan was missing.

“I haven’t seen a television, the only time I have seen a television was after I graduated from high school.”

Hassan said, laughing comparing his teen years with teenagers now. “Imagined that, I missed a lot of cartoons, games.”

There was a television program around where he lived and that’s the first time Hassan saw a T.V.

“The neighbor had it, the television.” Hassan said. “I stopped by one night, and I saw the picture on the television and that was…..amazing.”

Hassan missed out on just more than televison in Somalia.

“We never had a phone,” Hassan said, pausing to emphasize the sheer impossibilty. “Never.”

Without an easy way to contact others, Hassan found another way to stay in touch.

“I used letters,” said the man who didn’t own a phone until high school. “Send a letter to where if they are far away, if not you walk there or use any other public transportation.”

Sometimes he and his family didn’t even use letters.

“Those days..., people used to giving information to someone and that person telling another person and another person,” Hassan said, using hand movements show-

ing how information had to travel from person to person.

“And that’s how it reached where it’s supposed to reach.”

Passing on information for Hassan was like playing the game telephone, a game some play as a child, passing on a sentence from person to person.

“That’s how it was like.” Hassan said, in a way that made it sound like a normal everyday thing to do. “It might go through two or three people until it gets to where the information was intended to go” As a result, the clarity of the message was compromised. “[The information being passed] could be changed,” Hassan said. “If the information you’re sending is private, we probably would not do that. You’d only send it in the mail or you go in person.”

That’s right: a world where face-to-face communication supersedes calling and texting.

“There were no such things as text message, YouTube, Facebook or any kind of social media. There were no such things when I grew up,” Hassan said. “No television, no phone, nothing.”

Even so, there are good points for being always connected with social media sites.

“There was less information.” Hassan said, proud he grew up not sharing everything with everyone. “It’s probably better with less information. Now we have too much information.”

And because Hassan didn’t grow up stuck on social media sites, he did a lot more outside activities.

“We played basketball, soccer, go to the movie theater, and go watch some games. We’d see if there were any games going on, or just hang around as a normal teen.”

Hassan said. “We go to the beach.”

The beach Hassan went to was beautiful, and it was probably the thing he misses most about Somalia.

“It was beautiful,” Hassan said, reliving the memories of his younger days. “The beach was a long beach and had big waves. The water was very clear; we could see most of the bottom of the water, all the way to the ground.”

Hassan really liked the beach in his homeland.

“You can walk, or play outside on the beach. It was very exciting,” Hassan said. “I kind of miss that.”

Then Hassan moved to America because Somalia was in a civil war, which made the area too dangerous to live in. Everything changed.

“Imagine. From where I grew up,” Hassan said.

Life changes.

“Where I came from and coming to California…it’s nothing you can compare, at all. Everything was different.”

Of course it was big moving to an other country, but there was a little thing that Hassan was excited about.

“It was the first time I had a phone,” Hassan said, eyes beaming. “I owned a cell phone, I was really excited.”

Since it was Hassan’s first cell phone, he used it any chance he had.

“It was a Nokia,” Hassan said. “I called people I met at the ESL classes, to get to know them.”

Even though he didn’t have a phone until he got to America, he’s a pro on his phone now. He uses it often for his work as a driving instructor.

“I’m a father of five kids. That tells you that I’m busy,” Hassan said. “In mornings, I make phone calls and receive calls.”

But since Hassan works with a lot of teenagers at his driving school, calling isn’t what he does most.

“I do a lot of text message, I send a lot,” Hassan said.

“And I receive a lot. If you want to reach me, just send me a text message.”

He has trouble estimating how many texts he recieves a day.

Pressed, Hassan says he gets around twenty text messages per day at least, when it’s not that busy. He has come a long way compared to his days in Somalia.

“It’s overwhelming,” Hassan said, sighing. “I feel like I’m a very easy person to adapting in an environment, a new life.”

Although he’s not completely a master of texting-yet.

“When you send that much text messages, and most of the text messages people send me, nine out of nine texts, are teens,” Hassan said, laughing. “You know, [there are] a lot of short words, it’s hard to understand their meaning.

Texting is more convenient for the students.

“I think he made a very smart choice on texting people,” Tarng said. “I have texted him before for rescheduling a drive or for questions that I have.”

Tarng admires Hassan’s transition from one country to another.

“I think it’s amazing how he was able to adapt to change,” Tarng said, “as well as learn how to use something that for him seems like a ‘foreign’ object.”

Hassan realizes this as well, and he’s proud.

“It shows me I was able to adapt to my new life.”

Photo and Text by Annie Kwan

And never stops changing Senior Abdi Ali has never visited his home country.

“I know that it used to be peaceful with all the beaches,” Ali said. “Now it’s just a war zone.”

From paradise to battlefront, Somalia’s civil war fragmented many families and spread them around the world.

“It used to be a place where everybody was family,” Ali said, “but I got so many family members I didn’t get to meet because they’re scattered around the world when they left Somalia due to the war. They’ve been thinking of countries like the U.S or somewhere in Europe.”

Even though he hasn’t stepped foot in his home country, Ali stays connected to his roots.

“My parents and I always make calls there to my extended family, like my aunts, uncles and cousins that live there.”

But calling periodically isn’t enough for Ali, he still wants more.

“I always wanted to experience that feeling of going to your homeland,” Ali said. “I heard the beaches are so beautiful. I think it would be a great place to relax.”

Beaches aren’t the only place Ali would like to visit when he finally gets a chance to fly to Somalia.

“I want to see the capital called Mogadishu. I also want to see the Bakaara Market because it’s the largest open market in Somalia. But the civil war destroyed the beautiful city,” Ali said.

But because of the civil war, Ali has half a mind to fly down to Somalia.

“If I had the choice back then, I would go back, but now… not so much,” Ali said. “The [Bakaara Market] used to sell the everyday things you need in your house like food but now it’s more of a gun shop and forged letters from other countries to flee the country.”

Even though he hasn’t stepped foot there, Somali culture is preserved in their household.

“My parents are strictly Somalian,” Ali sad. “They’re doing that so I wouldn’t forget who I am and where I came from.”

Language plays a major role in adhering to one’s culture.

“My parents speak Somali,” Ali said. “I only understand it.

I don’t speak it very well.”

Though not being able to step onto his homeland, Ali’s parents are the bridge that connects him to his homeland’s culture. “[They teach me] a lot more in the religious perspective than culture,” Ali said, “because in my country, religion is everything. The men wear what is called a macawis around their waist. I lost mine.”

The macawis in Somalia—“maawis” in English, pronounced MA-AH-WIS—is a traditional garment.

“It’s like a cloth that you fold right over left and you lap it up,” long time friend Abdi Abdi said. “You can wear it like a pajama and wear shorts under it.”

A lost macawis proved to be quite humorous to Abdi.

“I would probably get him a new one,” Abdi said with a slight chuckle. “I have two. One of them was given [to me] by my dad. It’s still clean and fresh. Every time I grab it, I remember all the culture and what my dad taught me.”

Along with the sartorial accoutrements of Islam, Abdi expresses his devotion to his beloved Allah with his knowledge of his spirituality.

“The religion of Islam itself has one conclusion and that conclusion is in the Quran, Surat ‘Āli `Imrān, Chapter 3, Verse 19,” Abdi said. “It says ‘the only religion that is acceptable by the side of God is Islam.’”

On paper, Somalia is a country with a religion that unifies many who reside in the country and many who live elsewhere in the world.

“Our traditions are based on our religion,” Ali said. “We celebrate Ramadan Eid which gets me close to family and to Somalia.”

Ramadan Eid is huge for Ali.

Ameri[somali]can Surrounded by clashing culture, one searching citizen finds a way to stay true to his roots while assimilating “During Ramadan, we fast from sunrise to sunset celebrating when the holy Quran was created for 30 days,” Ali said. “I celebrate Eid by having a big family day after praying”.

Some Somalian elders say young Somalians assimilate much faster than the older generations.

“My dad sees the culture dying because he sees kids not being proud of it,” Ali said. “My parents think the U.S. is brain washing our culture away.”

Ali disagrees.

“I think it’s stupid,” Ali said. “My dad thinks like that because the people I hang out with don’t think like that. My parents think I’m going to be a gangster and what race is mostly portrayed as gangsters is African-Americans. “ According to Abdi though, Ali possesses all the attributes of being Somalian.

“Abdi is adopting the Somali way of life and religion and he is following the culture and religion to the best he can,” Abdi said.

Friend and senior Mohamad Mohamad also comes to Ali’s defense when adhering to his culture.

“When he’s around other Somalis, he is himself,” Mohamad said. “He helps around in his communities and he’s still Somali. We don’t see him any different.”

A dying culture doesn’t mean it’s a weak one.

“It means to be a person you can be proud of,” Ali said, “and that keeps their religion and family first.”

Two cultures clash in Abdi: the culture of the norm in the United States and the culture he was born with in Somalia. He stands in the middle ground.

“He wouldn’t stand out in Somalia. He would be acheiving many things in Somalia,” Mohamad said.

“They would probably vote him for president.”

And that’s what’s important: knowing and identifying oneself.

“You can tell that he’s Somalian once you see him,” Abdi said.

“Once the person speaks that he’s not Somalian, you can say that person is not practicing his culture and is not proud of his culture.

As far as Abdi, he doesn’t do any of that.”

Photo and Text by Rafael Agas

All americanized

Culture does not always start at home Safiya Huessein, the mother of a student, moved to the states from Somalia in December of 1997. Huessein’s family got the funds to send her and her unborn child to live in America: the land where dreams are supposed to come true.

However, Huessin wanted to move to be closer to her family and had dreamed of one day bringing her husband and sons to live in America. It would be an opportunity to bring up her children in a place where she could be closer to the ones she loved and who would help raise the kids.

For the first eight years of her life, sophomore Suaad Hersi had lived only with her mother while her brothers and father still lived in Somalia and waited to reunite with their family. This meant time for values to be passed from mother to daughter and to bond over shared interests.

“My mom taught me how to cook,” Hersi said. “I was eight years old and she had decided it was the time for me to learn.”

During last year’s Multi-Cultural Week, Hersi hoped to cook traditional Somalian food for the potluck or even help out with booths, but she wasn’t able to since too many people were providing dishes.

“My favorite thing to cook is rice and pasta,” Hersi said.

“It’s always really easy to make.”

During the years with only her mother in the household she wore jeans and tennis shoes without a hijab, describing herself as, “a little American girl.” However, in Feb. 2006, Hersi’s father and brothers arrived and it all changed.

“In third grade I had to learn my culture, dress like my people and speak like my people,” Hersi said. “At first I didn’t like it.”

However, her parents had conflicting feelings.

“My dad wanted me to look like a Muslim girl,” Hersi said. “My mom on the other hand still wanted me to dress like I had all my life.”

After consideration, both parents agreed it was time for Hersi to become more instilled in her culture and religious background.

“It wasn’t until my mom realized that I should,” Hersi said. “Since that day I did.”

Her father Mohamed left two sons in Somalia and another son who now lives in Djibouti behind when coming to America. This sparked a change in the everyday life of Hersi and her mother. Both had to learn to adapt to having three men in the household and Hersi had to accept being the middle child of the family. She had to get to know her siblings and even her own father.

“I didn’t really know my father,” Hersi said. “He was so excited to see me and I was not feeling it.”

The reactions within the room varied from person to person; Huessin was overjoyed to finally have her children and husband all together, but her daughter was scared.

“I was so used to living with my mom, and then they came,” Hersi said. “These people who just came into my home.”

When her brothers, Ismail Muse and Mohamed Yusuf arrived with her father, their reactions to meeting their new youngest sister were much different.

“When it came to my brothers it wasn’t all crying and hugging,” Hersi said. “It was ‘hi’ when we saw each other; no physical contact.”

It took her much longer to warm up to her brothers, saying it was about a year before they became close; in contrast, she knew her father for only two months before their relationship blossomed.

Looking now at their father and daughter relationship, she finds that it has changed drastically from that day back in 2006 when they met for the first time.

“We are so close now it’s indescribable,” Hersi said. “My dad and I, we have a great connection.”

Even if she had the chance, Hersi said she would rather keep the experience of having the rest of her family arrive to the U.S. after her and her mother. That being the case, she also recognizes it would be good to have them be together all at once.

“We would have the chance to experience the American culture together,” Hersi said. “I would like to try it.”

Family reunions can be awkward, but that’s especially true with new personalities you haven’t been acquainted with.

Though this was the case, Hersi is now closer to her family than ever. She is especially fond of her brother Ismail.

My brother Ismail and I are best friends,” Hersi said. “We both like playing video games together, we think alike and like playing basketball.”

Any major changes in life offer a chance to lean on others for support and children rely heavily on their friends.

This was also true in her predicament.

Sophomore Filsan Ibrahim met Hersi during their fourth grade year. Their friendship has lasted throughout the years and is still strong.

“Most people get our names mixed up,” Ibrahim said.

“We are together so often, so it is understandable.”

Hersi reflected on their initial meeting, admitting that it started on the wrong foot.

“We hated each other at first,” Hersi said. “I don’t know why, I was a bully type of kid. Well, to Filsan I was.”

The girls had met in a class they shared during the fourth grade at Lakeridge Elementary. When Ibrahim attempted a hello she was given the cold shoulder by Hersi.

“I said ‘hi’ to her,” Ibrahim said. “She just sort of looked at me for a bit.”

During the seventh grade was when the two finally bonded and became best friends. From that moment forward they have become inseparable. During this time the girls began to see their differences which somehow brought them even closer.

“I wasn’t born in Somalia, so when Somalians speak their language it’s harder for me to understand,” Hersi said.

“I feel unalike them even though I speak both English and Somali.”

Hersi grew up speaking English with her mother and at school, and only started speaking more when her brothers and father moved to America.

“My father and brothers never spoke English to me,” Hersi said. “It was always Somali.”

Ibrahim came to United States in March of 2006 and could immediately tell that she and her friend had come from contrasting backgrounds.

“She was more Americanized than me for sure,” Ibrahim said. “She knows more about pop culture and knows artists I’ve never heard of.”

Along with being born in America, Hersi had a period when she did not wear the traditional Muslim hijab, whilst Ibrahim had worn it regularly since living in Somalia.

This, in the moral sense, did not bother Ibrahim.

“She was still a child,” Ibrahim said. “It’s okay not to wear a hijab until you’re a woman.”

Ibrahim met Hersi after her father and brothers came to America and Hersi had been dressing according to her Muslim beliefs.

Even though Hersi was born in America she presents herself as Somali, Muslim and American.

Maybe the belief that America is still “the great mixing pot” has allowed many of its residents to keep their heritage and be proud of where they came from.“I can look different, dress different, and be different from other people,” Hersi said. “But we different people aren’t as different as you.”

And then you find yoursel f.

Text and photo by Mikayla Cheney

You find a place where you belong.

Abdi The Climate. It’s not really hot and not really cold. It’s in the middle. No snow and not windy. It’s summer all the time.

salih Home is everything, family, it is all about people.

sheikh

Home is somewhere that I can feel comfortable, a place where i can sing freely.

abeulld Home is where i go for shelter, where i go for safety and comfort

cawaale It has good weather and it has beautiful cities and nice people. I was eigth or nine when the war started. I was at home and i heard a lot of guns and it was scary. I didn’t know what was going on until a coule changes. I miss the food. It’s really good and organic. I really miss camel milk.

What is home to yo

she found A place to belong in a new world

BALL DON’T LIE culture on th

She placed the chocolate chip cookies into the pan, then into the oven. The aroma was so strong; you could have smelled it before you reached the culinary room.

The cookies were everywhere, in bowls and in pans, the classroom was full.

She is Faduma Ahmed, a junior at Renton High School (RHS), and she is Muslim. Her parents’ are from Somalia.

“I lived in Tennessee; I went to school full white kids. I didn’t feel like I belonged because I was a Muslim, and basically the only Somalian kid,” Ahmed said.

She has also lived in Minnesota.

“When I moved to Minnesota start seeing more Somalians and Hispanics,” Ahmed said. “My school wasn’t that diverse because I went to a school full of Somalians, but when I came here for my 8th grade year; my middle school [Denny] was very diverse. There were Blacks, Whites, Asians, Mexicans, Indians, and Somalians. It was a pretty diverse school and so is Renton High.”

Adjusting her white shirt, fixing the sleeves, I noticed her fashion sense; I asked her where she likes to shop.

“Macys, forever 21, Love Culture, Etiquette, I’m very American,” Ahmed said. “I don’t wear like those Somalian clothes.” She said she only wears name brands.

Her friend, junior Zalma Arale was standing next to us.

“Faduma and I have been friends since freshmen year, [we met] in advisory. When I first saw her I thought she might be new to the country,” Arale said.

Talks of their home land isn’t awkward, they have a

Basketball relation to Somalia is simila to how it relates to anywhere else; it’s a ga played everywhere. However, what is mere game to some, can be to others a life’s insp tion. To sophomore Ismail Muse, it’s seen a game he can devote his life to.

Playing basketball started off as a hobby that Muse would do during the day. However, it soon became one of his favorite sports. Muse can now be found shooting hoops from places ranging from his backya to the local basketball court, always trying land a perfect 3-pointer or a fade away layu “I think one of the main things I carrie over from Somalia and Kenya is playing ba ball,” Muse said. “One of my biggest dream to be part of the NBA.” Before moving to America Muse start his adventure into basketball as a child in t streets of Kenya, a country located right ne to Somalia,where his family would often co from to visit “I don’t think there’s much difference how basketball is played in Kenya compare to America,” Muse said. “It depends more o who’s playing in the game. Some play roug and some try too hard to make their own

ahmed

ali Home is where there are people who care about you, people who will be there all the time no matter what.

very playful friendship, though this topic doesn’t come up often in conversation.

She explains, “maybe in like a highlight, if she says a joke or something in Somali.”

Making connections like this, people with whom she has common ground, have been essential in providing smooth transitions from location to location.

“I’m use to moving around a lot and switching schools, it’s not hard for me to make new friends,” Ahmed said. “I’m surprised that I stayed at Renton since my freshmen year.”

Even though talks of her home and moving are not awkward, her religion has never made her feel similar to other people.

“I like being a Muslim but it can be hard sometimes because people look at you different, they assume stuff, and sometimes people treat you differently” Ahmed said.

She continues, “being around people of different religions made me respect others who did not share the same faith as me, because not everyone practices the same religion.”

She handed me a cookie. I asked about her family’s experiences in Somalia. “My mom lived a good life,” Ahmed said. “She went to school just like any other kid.

She did not graduate from high school because a war happened in Somalia and her family immigrated to a refugee camp in Kenya, then they came to America.”

Education is very important to Ahmed’s mother, Sahra Karie.

“Since my mom did not have the chance to finish high school she wants me to graduate and go to college and be successful,” Ahmed said. “She always motivates me to do better in school and get good grades. A lot of people in my family went to college and I’m following in their footsteps.”

Faduma said she wants to be a Nurse Practitioner when she gets older.

Text by Devon Henderson

barre Home means everything ot me, my clothes, my Xbox, my underwear, everything I have.

MUSE

“Ho wa

gaN My grandpa served in the Navy in Somalia. He is 50 now.

muhammad Home is simply a place to sleep.

ou?

aBDI The climate. it’s not really hot and not very cold. it’s in the middle. No snow and no windy.

It’s just summer all the time.

E, he court

ar ame ely a piraas a

ard to up. ed asketms is

ted the ext ome

plays.”

While others play for kicks, Muse plays for reason. He’s aspired from people afar.

“I wasn’t really inspired by anyone as a kid. I guess seeing kids playing outside and having fun made me want to get into the crowd,” Muse said. “Now my inspiration is just NBA basketball players like Derrick Rose.”

Sometimes one may find inspiration in seemingly insignificant things such as kids playing outside or cheering at a television screen.

“Playing basketball was something I just learned as a child and from practicing with my family and friends,” Muse said. “I used to play basketball with them all of the time, it was really fun.”

“I never noticed how serious Ismail took basketball until now,” Muse’s mom said. “I’ve seen him play a bit when he was a kid but I didn’t think it would become one of his favorite sports.”

All and all, whether from the sidelines shouting encouragement or in the game shouting for someone to grab the ball.

Text by Joseph Hoang

e on ed on gh

ome means Somalia. It was the place where I as born and it is the place I want to go back to.”

-Yahye Farah

Ibrahim I don’t remember much but i do remember the night being warm and comfortable.

Unlike here, where it is always raining and cold. I miss it.

hassan I think Somalia is beautiful but falling apart and crumbling due to the war. I can’t change my people beacuse they are stubborn and strong minded. What they learn from the past is stuck to them.

Tribal is not a print

You stay true to yourself. .

Hussein’s style shows who she is as a person and, more importantly, what she believes in “Ridwan is fitted,” freshman Maryalmo Ali said.

Sophomore Ridwan Hussein later explains how she owns over 14 pairs of shoes and so many scarves she can’t even count them. She suspects she has over 80.

“I don’t like to wear the same scarf over and over again,” Hussein said, tossing a corner of her black hijab, with little silver bead work at the bottom, over her shoulder as if it were her hair. “I pick what color of scarves to buy according to how well they go with my skin color.”

According to Hussein this does not make her unique because a lot of her friends dress religiously but add their own flair to their outfits. Sending pictures over the kik she shows examples of girls who are following the Islamic dress code and still looking fashionable.

“Somali girls at Renton and elsewhere have their own style, and try to fit in by Americanizing the way they dress,” Hussein said.

Hussein’s personality shines in everything she says and in how she treats other people.

“She always does herself and does as she pleases, and she will not act two-faced towards you,” senior Najma Mohamed said.

Hussein and a few of her friends wait

Hussein

for 4:30 pm to roll around so they can go to the Care Center, to be interviewed by the Girl Scouts of America about their experiences as girls with Somali descent, who have grown up in America.

She takes time every day to coordinate her outfits to fit how she feels for the day.

“I pick a color scheme for the day and then go to my closet and pick out clothing that goes with the color scheme,” Hussein said.

Some pieces of clothing are luckier than others.

“My little plain black socks for flats…

I wear them whenever I want something really bad,” Hussein said. “When I wear them I get whatever I want.”

Hussein’s style also parallels her personality.

“Her style is not over the top. [It’s] comfortable and represents her,” freshman Shukri Farh said. “Right now she is obsessed with camo and Toms.”

Hussein pulls out an iPhone from a pocket and swipes through pictures of a girl dressed in what might be described as modest-fashionista.

“That’s Basma K. Styles. I really love her style and the way she looks and everything because it’s traditional and it covers everything up while looking cute,” Hussein said. “She also reminds me of my mom.”

Ridwan’s mom encourages creativity in dress.

“My mom doesn’t restrict what I wear as long as I am Muslim modest,” Hussein said. “My mom is a fashionista. She knows what’s in so I try to copy my mom from the ways she wraps up her scarf to what bag she carries.”

Even Ridwan’s friends notice the little ways Ridwan copies her mom.

“Ridwan’s mom is funny, loud and chill,” Farh said,.“Ridwan’s got some of her mom’s attitude, and I always notice that.”

The extent to which Ridwan adores her mother and admires her doesn’t end with dress.

“My mom’s got a credit card from every store because she shops so much, all the way from Macy’s to Love Culture,” Hussein said.

Hussein finds it hard to understand, at times, why some parents don’t allow their children to dress the way they want to.

“I feel bad for kids whose parents don’t want them to be comfortable in their own clothes at school,” Hussein said.

A friend suggests maybe it’s not the parents.

“Maybe those girls dress conservatively because they feel more comfortable and secure that way,” Farh said.

Ali explains the specifics about the rules in the Quran regarding dress.

“You just have to wear your hijab because if you don’t it is a sin and you have to cover everything up. All except your face and hands can show,” Ali said. “But there are no rules against wearing pants.”

The girls later explain how they won’t judge you for not wearing a scarf or not sharing similar beliefs.

“Just because you don’t cover doesn’t mean I won’t like you. Everyone makes their own choices,” Ali said. “Like, when we turn 15 we have to pick a path, you are can choose between continuing in the religion or not. I pick to keep my hijab and religion, since this is what I truly believe.”

Text by Evelyn Fitz

Come Cici What I See Senior Asiya Hassan—Cici, as her friends call her—shows herself in pose and diction “I look up to Mrs. Willecke and Mr. Ponds. They have alway been there for me through the ups and downs. Every time I see them they put a smile on my face.”

“I’ve lived in America for eight years. The first [show] I watched was Hello Kitty. I love Hello Kitty.”

“When I grow up, I want to be a wedding planner and also cosmologist. I think that would be really fun, like, for real.”

Photo Illustration and Text by Naje Bryant

Eriam Girl

The musically passionate Eritriam-American THE ORIGINS “I am from Eritrea, a really small country in east Africa.”

That was AIR—as in arrow, REE –as in repeat, TR—as in train, and UH—as in understanding.

The country’s pronunciation is one piece of information Junior Haben Abraham shares as waits for her turn during talent show rehearsal. She sits with her legs crossed in the red fabric theatre seats of the performing arts center and describes more about her family’s origins.

Although born in America herself, Abraham learns about the culture through her father’s stories and her many visits.

“My dad lived there for pretty much most of his life… well, not most of his life. He left in his teens during their war time to go fight… and when he was thirteen he went to go and try and be a solider,” Abraham said. “I love it there. It’s honestly one of my favorite places to be.”

She leans back in her seat, her eyes looking up as she searches for the words to describe walking in downtown Asmara.

“Because it’s not very crowded and no one walks really fast, you don’t feel like you have to be getting somewhere,” Abraham said. “You can just be there and just enjoy…the architecture and everything. And the people are so friendly, so I love doing that and sitting in a coffee shop or something.”

Abraham’s large family lives in several countries. Many of them live in Eritrea and also parts of Europe.

“I don’t know why all my family just ended up [in Amsterdam],” Abraham said. “They all went at different times… It happened to my parents too but they moved to America.”

Abraham

THE MUSIC Music plays in the background as another talent show performer practices his rapping act. After glancing at the stage, Abraham describes the connection between her heritage and her music.

“I think [my upbringing] made me like so many different types of music. The music from my country… gave me experience in terms of musical genres, and so I really like experimenting with the sounds because they only use five notes in all of their music,” Abraham said. “Occasionally they’ll add an extra.

“Me and my sisters have a song that is made from an instrument from Eritrea. It’s called Krar,” Abraham continues. “It’s really hard to play. My dad tried to teach me, and I can’t do it. It’s a box looking guitar which you have to play like this.” Abraham bends her hands awkwardly, left hand parallel to the floor, right hand almost perpendicular. “I don’t know… you could Google it.”

Abraham writes songs, plays different instruments, and performs for large crowds.

Sometimes she performs with her sisters in a group called Eriam.

“Eri for Eritrean and Am for American,” Abraham explains. “Honestly, it was something [my father] came up with when we were really young. I don’t think it meant as much to us then, or as much as it does now. I don’t think we loved both of our countries as much as we do now.”

Abraham has performed in more shows than she can remember; in 2010 the Eriam Sisters performed in sixty shows, one of their busier years. Their success was a family affair.

“The fact that our family lives in Europe and in Africa… that maybe opened up some opportunities for us to go there,” Abraham said. “We performed in some parts of America and in Amsterdam and Sweden and Germany, stuff like that, and then Eritrea. We haven’t gone anywhere else in Africa yet.

“When I went to East Africa… I went to this festival called the Sawa Festival and basically what it is, is all these Eritreans from literally all the countries of the world, so many countries, so many,” Abraham recalls.

“They all come to east Africa to a military base camp and they stay there for a week and enjoy different events and stuff.

So that was the biggest crowd.” Abraham spreads out her arms over the row of seats in front of her as she describes the vast numbers.

“It was so much people… I couldn’t even see faces.

I don’t know how many. Fifteen thousand, I think. And it was absolutely unbelievable and really, really, really scary, but my parents were there. Friends and stuff from east Africa were there so it was a little easier to look at them in the crowd.”

THE FRIEND “Big fans? Well, what do you mean ‘big fans’?”

Abraham asks as a familiar face in the auditorium seat behind hers laughs. Then he waves. She laughs.

“Seth Davis! Is my biggest fan.”

Junior Seth Davis is a huge fan and a close friend of Abraham’s.

“I would say it’s a little bit more than me being just a friend,” Davis says. “You know we are super close. I would support her through anything.”

Davis has known Abraham for five years.

“We met at Dimmitt Middle School. We were in Ms. Chase’s class and it wasn’t the first day, but it was, I think, the second week of school… [Haben] wasn’t there the first week because she had ‘America’s Got Talent,’ so I had to wait it out,” Davis said. “I was like, ‘Hey, I saw you on ‘America’s Got Talent.’ You’re pretty good…’ All the other people were, like,

davis

. .and true to your origins.

‘Oh my god, it’s Haben. Oh my god, good job girl, you did that thing.’”

Abraham shakes her head in embarrassment.

“When we were [in] eighth grade we were in the hallway and we sang the song ‘Knock You Down’ by Ne-Yo and Keri Hilson… we were in the hallway, and that was the first time anybody heard me sing for the first time.”

Over the years Davis and Abraham performed informally in hallways, usually during passing periods. If they both knew a song, they sang it. At some point Davis decided they needed to bring it to the stage.

“I was, like, ‘Haben, okay, we are doing the talent show together,’” Davis said.

The two finally decided on “Almost is Never Enough” by Ariana Grande.

THE SUPPORT “I always feel weird calling [my supporters] fans, I don’t know why. It just makes me feel like I have some blown up head. I don’t know, supporters, supporters is a good one.”

The MC on stage shouts, “Who runs the world?” and Abraham replies “Girls!” and returns to her previous point.

“Some big supporters are really sweet, especially when I go to Africa, because they don’t have any girl groups there. They don’t know much about American singers who are part Eritrean. I guess they kinda feel like we are the ones representing them here in America…So yeah, we have gotten little necklaces and notes and stuff.”

The Eriam sisters have fans that have chased their buses, stolen their albums and posters and proposed to Abraham’s two older sisters. Most of them have been Eritrean.

After “America’s Got Talent” Abraham experienced a whole different type of support from Americans.

“It was a weird change. I would never think that I could walk in the mall and people would know [who I am].

I mean, people are less crazy here, thank god, but… it was different and I was young, so I don’t know if I was ready for different.”

No matter what Abraham still holds a special connection with her Eritrean fans.

“I think our Eritrean supporters know us more because we’ve represented [them] for a long time. Seven years, I think. Yeah, we were little kids when we started with just Eritrean performances. They know us better.”

Photo and Text by Amanda Dyer

No ma ter where you have come from. .

Photo by Alicia Quarles

Refugee helped her flee Stuck in a world of rotating wheels, Tesfatsion escapes a whirlwind of simplicity to be able to live in America Senior Fiyori Tesfatsion was born in Adi Nfas, Eritrea on Feb. 27, 1994. She’s been living in the United States for the past 3 years and some months, and her story is more than a simple move. Her family struggled, and although they went through hard times to get where they are, they managed to get away from the lifestyle of hunger and poverty that they were surrounded by.

“I got here on Sept. 27 2010,” Tesfatsion said. “I moved to America because I was in a refugee camp in Ethiopia.”

Although born in Eritrea, and being of Eritrean heritage, Tesfatsion’s family lived in a refugee camp with around 30,000 other people for 3 years in the neighboring country of Ethiopia.

“Living in the camp was a very difficult life,” Tesfatsion said. “There was a lot of hunger, and not many jobs.”

Although some people in the Horn of Africa are born, and live in Refugee camps for all of their lives, living in one isn’t any type of easy living.

“It’s small,” Tesfatsion said. “Like ten to five people in one small house. And it’s even harder for people that are single, because the government doesn’t give them enough money, not even enough to eat.”

Tesfatsion lived in a refugee camp because her father left his job in the Eritrean army.

“He didn’t want to be in the army anymore, so he left to Ethiopia,” Tesfatsion said. “The Eritrean government then asked where my father had gone, found out and stopped helping us. We then followed my dad to the refugee camp in Ethiopia.”

The government didn’t like the fact that Tesfatsion’s father had left, unannounced, and abruptly, so they hunted him down, and eventually, let his family pay the price for him disappearing.

“I am happy because we have made it to a better life here in the United States, my mother, two brothers, two sisters, and I” Tesfatsion said, “but I am sad to leave my country and culture that I love so much.”

Tesfatsion is confident in how positively she feels about her heritage.

“My culture is the best because we share everything,” Tesfatsion said, “and we help each other in every time of need.”

Eritrean people are supportive of each other, but to Tesfatsion, the camps reeked of a life that she didn’t want to live.

“I mean, people are more open,” senior Adji Mbaye said, “and nicer.”

Although Mbaye was born in Brooklyn, New York, on Jan. 10, 1996 ever since the age of two, she lived in the country that her bloodline came from, Senegal, which is in West Africa.

“One thing that people think about Africa is that we are uncivilized. That we don’t have houses, clothes, and that there are elephants and lions running around everywhere,” Mbaye said, “But I have never seen a lion or an elephant in my life.”

. .or what you have been through.

The two friends agree that the people of Africa are much nicer than people in America; more helpful, and they also relate to each other about some of the ways of life. But Mbaye has an idea of why people think the way they do about Africa as a whole.

“I think people learn it from the internet,” Mbaye said. “I just recently googled my own country and I saw things about it that I’ve never seen or heard of in my life.”

Tesfatsion wants people to know about her country and culture, and she looks forward to the day that she goes back.

“I will return to my country in five years,” Tesfatsion said. “I want to see the family that I have there. My grandmother, cousins, aunties, and more.”

Tesfatsion stays in the United States because of the opportunities that are offered here. She plans to finish school before she goes back to her own home country.

“The thing I didn’t like about the refugee camp was that there wasn’t many opportunities, and there were a lot of people that needed help,” Tesfatsion said. “That’s why I came to America.”

Although Tesfatsion isn’t extremely confident in her abilities to be considered an affluent part of this country, she strives in everything that she does, even something as little as a physical education class.

“It’s even hard for me to speak right now, because I don’t speak English that well,” Tesfatsion said. “But I want to do the best that I can to get a good education, then go back to my country after I finish my schooling.”

Considering Tesfatsion wanting to come here for school, there is one thing that about America that she doesn’t like.

“The food from my country is all natural, and much spicier than any food here,” Tesfatsion said. “Plus, food from Eritrea doesn’t make you fat.”

After coming across oceans, Tesfatsion overcame poverty, and a life of struggling. After being grandted to come to America by our government, how could her family not have taken the opportunity?

Text by Alicia Quarles

t s u j , d n You’ l fi . . e b y a m distanced, divided, and at last “I didn’t come to America for food stamps,” senior Tsehainesh Tilahun said. “My reason was for family.”

She waited long enough—sixteen years to be precise. For sixteen years she, her sister and mother waited in Ethiopia while their father worked in America.

“This was one of the saddest times in my life,” Tilahun said of the years she waited to board Ethiopian Airlines. “My parents far from each other.”

While never quite lonely in her grandmother’s multi bedroomed home painted blue with red trim, Tilahun counted on extended family to play with her. To be there for her. Tilahun has 86 cousins on her mother and father’s sides. While in Ethiopia, she attended Walia Middle school.

“We would always see each other on holidays,” Tilahun said.

“We would call up our aunts and uncles asking how many kids they have.” They still have yet to meet everyone. Unknown family members lurk hundreds of miles away.

Tilahun loves her family and she prides herself on supporting them as much as they support her. After all, her name means sunshine.

ARROW reporter Christina Nguyen interviewed her—as well as her friend senior Adji Mbaye and her sister junior Rahel Tilahun.

ARROW: How has American culture influenced you?

TILAHUN: It is different in a ‘good bad’ way. There are many pros and cons. We have the right to express and look forward to our future. No one holds you back. There are also many possibilities and a lot of time to do so.

ARW: What are struggles you faced getting used to American culture? Who was the first person you met here?

TILAHUN: Language. There are too many symbols to learn.

I first met Adji Mabye on the first day of ELL. Ever since then we became great friends.We had many similarities; we would always try to speak to each other in our language [and make hand gestures.] We especially understand each other.

ADJI MBAYE: Yes we met. We met because we looked like we had a lot of similarities and we did. We ended up becoming very good friends to this day. We eat lunch together almost every day and have each other’s back.

ARW: What’s the school like in Ethiopia?

TILAHUN: Compared to here, [there] are six classes. But over there, we have nine classes. The school over there is one huge school with an elementary, middle school, and high school put all together. My siblings and I also went to a private school.

Our uniform for girls had a white shirt under a navy blue shirt underneath and a blue skirt. The boys wore white shirts and navy blue pants. My siblings and I went to Walia Middle School.

A walia is an animal that only exists in Ethiopia. [Editor’s Note: A walia ibex is a type of antelope that looks like a hybrid deer, antelope, and elk. It is an endangered species in Ethiopia.]

ARW: How’s the weather in Ethiopia?

TILAHUN: Almost everyone always thinks that Africa is hot and sunny, that we live in huts…that is not true. We do not. The weather there is equivalent to here in Seattle. It rains there as if it was here, there are towers, buildings, and it’s an actual city, Gondar.

ARW: What was your first meal like in America?

TILAHUN: We ended up having out flight delayed before we came here. We ended up staying in a hotel in Washington DC and had our meal. It smelled so good and looked good; it was egg,

green chili, and cheese. [This dish was an omelet.]

I took the first bite and I didn’t like it. The egg was too wet and runny, pretty much raw. All I ate was the green chili and left the rest. Then [left to eat] was desert. During that time it was my first time having vanilla ice cream. All I can say is, it was great.

I can’t explain into words. Every time I see ice cream, I always reminisce about it.

ARW: What are your culture’s characteristics like?

TILAHUN: We are known as Habesha. [Editor’s note: “Habesha” is a term referring to an ethnicity of Ethiopia and Eritrea.]

RAHEL: The meaning of this is “same blood, different skin color.” We could be different skin tones of all kinds but still share the same culture.

ARW: Do you have any other surnames?

TILAHUN: Yes, my nickname is Haimi. The meaning of my nickname means faith.

ARW: What is your religion?

TILAHUN: I go to Orthodox Church. We wear white to church. My family and I wake up [and go] on Saturday from 11:00 am to 1:00 pm and then on Sunday [from] 5:00 am to 11:00 am. I am part of the choir and I like singing; it’s very relaxing.

ARW: Why do you wear white?

TILAHUN: We wear white because white stands for peace.

White stands for peace and prosperity.

ARW: What type of music do you enjoy?

TILAHUN: My favorite song is Dawit Nega sung in the languages Tigrigna, Oromo, and Amharic, it makes me happy listening to it, it has a rhythmic beat and I really enjoy the meaning- it stands for not only love but also unity.

to g e t h e r . .we aren’t so dif ferent after al .

Photo Illustration and Text by Christina Nguyen

Kwan

I learned that communication is possible without technology.

HEDNDERSON

I learned that guys can date outside of their relligion, girls can’t.

FITZ

I learned everyone has to pick their own path.

VIRAY

There’s a very special section in Africa named the Horn of Africa.

Hoang

You can have a lot of experiences of a place without ever setting foot in it.

BURNSIDE

People hang out there with family and friends and have a great time.

Cetino

I had no idea that there was Somalia and a Somali Land.

CHENEY

I learned that differences bring us closer.

Wilson

Somalia, despite the war going on, is a beauitful country.

NGUYEN

There are over 85 languages spoken in Ethiopia.

MILLER

The worst stories and experiences are the ones never told.

QUARLES

The simplest looking people can have the most breathtaking stories.

We taught each other.

CHALOUPkA

The Horn has the largest dromedary population in the world.

FINE PRINT ARROW is an open forum produced by bear hugging, passive aggressive, 1D obsessed, tight-kint cutie kids who act like mental patients if not fed on time. So please bring us food, today. They put all their effort into one crazy and beautiful place, a public high school named Renton High School at 400 S. 2nd St., Renton, WA, 98057. The Executive Editor is senior Amanda Dyer. You can contact her at pandadyer@earthlink.com with compliments and criticisms.

ARROW is printed eight times a year by Pacific Publishing Company in Seattle, Washington. Word processing, graphics and layouts are created on Microsoft Office 2007 and Adobe Creative Suite 3 programs. ARROW has a press run of 2,000.

The staff welcomes letters to the editor and will publish letters which meet our standards of good taste (as space permits). Letters must be signed. ARROW reserves the right to edit letters, though every attempt will be made to preserve original content. Editorials,

CAMPBELL

I learned that the Horn of Africa is 770,000 square miles.

CLAIRMONT

The horn is a mixing pot for the many different ethinicities there.

SAMUELS

i learned that it takes a while for people to warm up.

COLLIER

The Horn of Africa is more interesting than I thought it was.

SMITH

I’ve learned that the diversity at our school is rivaled by our intense intellectual curiosity.

Commentaries, and other opinionated content pieces represent the majority view of ARROW editorial board and do not represent the views of the Renton School District or RHS. Opinions, commentaries, satires, and perspectives are the views of the writers and artists, not the Renton School District or ARROW editorial board.

ARROW is financed by advertising based on sizedetermined rates. These range from $25-$80.

Dyer

I have been pronouncing some of these countries all wrong.

BRYANT

I learned that more people are alike than I thought.

AGAS

I learned that Somali are very shy.

GULLEY

There are a lot of different nationalities and people here.

GRAF

I should care about the things I don’t know.