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8B W J 61J//The Staternent
Nine weeks in Kuwait
by Dana Del Vecchio

T he call to prayer from surround-
ing mosques and the sight of burgas
worn in 120-degree weather was
quite a culture shock to say the least. I spent
nine weeks in Kuwait City as an outsider last
summer and expected to blog daily about
my exposure to the Muslim world. What I
did not expect was to learn a life lesson in
friendship.
The economy of Kuwait relies heavily on
migrant workers from Sri Lanka, Pakistan
and India to do the jobs that natives find
undesirable. Tensions between these ethnic
groups are exacerbated by a common alien-
ation from the Kuwaiti people.
One illustration of the cultural divide is
the "Old Souq," the city market where dates,
prayer beads and incense are sold. I watched
a group of migrant men in orange jump suits
with dismal expressions on their faces push
around shopping carts for the Kuwaiti shop-
pers. These men were clearly considered to
be a lower status or value.
Defying the idea that there is a "single
story" to every migrant worker - money
sent home, poor working conditions and
the inability to fit in - a dear friend of
mine working as a concierge in Kuwait City
humanized the condition and illustrated the
power of unconditional compassion.
During the last week of the summer
course, I decided to find a five-week intern-
ship in Kuwait to delay my departure and
familiarize myself with the country. Little

did I know, I would be driven to work by my
most informative resource and soon-to-be
good friend, Sunil Wickramabala.
Our exchanges were always the highlight
of my day, and our conversations gradually
revealed his unparalleled compassion for
others. Sunil had an incredible commitment
to his job, family and friends. His ability to
balance all three, along with the.burden of
stigmatization, asa migrant worker, was tre-
mendous.
One morning, Sunil's swollen eyelids
made it clear that something was wrong.
When we arrived at the site of the intern-
ship, he parked the car and slowly began to
expose his past months' experiences.
. Typically, Sunil worked the nightshift
from 6 p.m. to 6 a.m. Once he was off, he
drove his wife to work, then his daughter
to class at 7:30 a.m., and finally me to work
by 9 a.m. He then picked up his wife and
daughter at 2 p.m. and dropped them both
at home, drove an hour, arrived at my office
by 5pm and restarted his routine all over
again.
Sunil kept to his usual schedule like
any other working man - until June 19th.
On that day, Nalu, Sunil's good Sri Lankan
friend who worked as a construction work-
er for a Kuwaiti family, lost all recollection
of his friends, family and former life after a
bad fall. In addition to his other obligations,
Sunil began to pay daily visits to his hospi-
talized friend.

For Nalu, Sunil's friendship was invalu-
able, particularly since Nalu lived in the
country alone. Before the incident, Nalu
visited Sunil's family weekly and kissed
both of his two daughters on the forehead
each time.
"I was introduced to him when a group
of us met on our day off every week," Sunil
said. "After (I knew) where the house was,
I would go to his home and he would come
to mine."
If both men were living in Sri Lanka, race
would have segregated Sunil from Nalu.
As defined by the 30-year civil war in Sri
Lanka, the Tamil people are enemies of the
Sinhalese people. But ethnic tensions never
prevented these two from friendship for 28
years.
"I don't see him as Tamil, and us Sri.
Lankan. We have (a) friendship."
But after the unexpected fall, Nalu was
hospitalized. By the second day, he had
slipped into a coma.
"He could not open his eyes, and his
words did not make sense. We called his
family, and they were crying, saying, 'Please
try to send him to Sri Lanka,"' Sunil said.
For almost two weeks, Sunil and his fam-
ily became Nalu's surrogate family. They
came to his room at the hospital as a family
each afternoon.
on the morning of July 1, Sunil walked
into Nalu's room and found nothing more
than a blank-faced nurse and an empty bed.

" ... One day I went there and the nurse
said, 'Please bring shampoo.' On the sec-
ond day, I took the shampoo and I went
there and I saw (that) the bed was empty,"
Sunil said. "I asked her, 'Sister, where is this
guy?"'
Within one week, Nalu's bankcard was
canceled, his family and employer noti-
fied of his death, the Sri Lankan embassy
informed and his body sent to Sri Lanka.
For Sunil, dedication to his family and
commitment to his friend is never ques-
tioned.
"I'm not thinking I have to sleep,"-Sunil
said. "Sometimes, when I'm going to (the)
temple, they say, if you're eating something
and someone comes to your door, don't turn
to the other side."
Naturally, Sunil-hopes that that the same
kindness would be bestowed on him in a
similar situation.
"I give as much as I can give. What I have
is not all money, expect I can give a little.
If something happens to me, maybe some of
the people will do the same for me."
The image I held of my experience in
Kuwait pre-departure encompassed an
appreciation for Islam and daily interac-
tions with Kuwaitis, but my experience
ended up being significantly more. I will
remember it by the lesson of unconditional
friendship between strangers in a foreign
place.
- Dana Del Vecchio is an LSA sophomore.