Knock, knock.
The door opens and a smiling young woman says ‘hello’ and
welcomes you inside.
Well, at least you think she does. You don’t speak her
language but the lady that picked you up earlier today and brought you here by
car is gesturing that you come inside. So you do, but you’re not really sure
why.
You come into the front room. ‘It seems weird in here’ you
think to yourself. It is nothing like the home you once knew or the places you
have slept at, run from or travelled through it the past year either.
There’s pets. Or least they seem to be pets. Where you come
from cats are feral and rarely seen in the house.
You’re hungry and thirsty but you don’t know how to tell the
two ladies with you.
One hands the other some paperwork as you all sit in the living
room together. You wonder what this document is. Am I in trouble? Am I going to
be taken away again? Don’t they believe me when I say I’m 16.
After some chat that you don’t understand one of the women gets
out their phone and calls someone. You don’t know who but suddenly there is
someone speaking your language. What a relief. But who are they, and why am I
talking to them?
The interpreter on the phone explains that as a child
claiming asylum with no parent you’ve entered foster care. You’re exhausted and
don’t really understand what ‘foster care’ is but quietly say ‘yes’ to
everything she tells you. She explains who you’ll be living with, for how many
days and that the lady who opened the door to you earlier is here to look after
you. You will go food shopping tomorrow and go get some new clothes too. You
make sure you ask for halal food as it’s important to you, but when asked what
kind of meals you like don’t know what to say other than ‘chicken’.
You want to tell her that your leg hurts and your feet are
sore but don’t realise that health services are free here. Worrying that you’ll
have to pay and not having any money, you don’t say anything.
With the interpreter still on the phone you all take a tour
of the house and you are shown the kitchen, bathroom and your bedroom. A few
house rules are explained.
You’re still thirsty though and haven’t eaten for a while.
The tea (or chay) the lady made you tastes funny and not like chay at home so
you haven’t drunk much.
It seems the lady who brought you in the car is getting
ready to leave as she puts the paperwork in her handbag and says a few things
to the other strange lady. She shakes your hand, says something and you weakly
smile back. Soon she is gone and you are left alone with a stranger.
You are still hungry though but the lady gets out her tablet
and writes out ‘halal chicken’ in your language. You nod and smile, and she
taps the screen a bit, but then nothing. Still hungry, you sip the drink you
don’t like. Half an hour later a knock on the door. You feel nervous. Is it the
police? The army? No, it’s a man handing over a bag of food. You can smell it
instantly. The lady gets everything out and spreads it on the table. You sit on
the floor cross-legged and go to dive into the chicken, veg and naan. Except
there is a fork in the way. Should you use it? But you’re used to eating with
your hands and rip off the bread to pick up the chicken with.
You’ve traveled for hours today, and the last day, and the
day before. In fact, you feel like you’ve traveled non-stop for countless
days. In reality it’s been over a year since you left your home. After dinner
and a can of Coke you feel suddenly sleepy but don’t know whether you want to
sleep here. The lady’s noticed and she writes out on her tablet, ‘Time for bed?’
and its translated into your language. You nod and smile, a bit weary but
follow them upstairs. They point to the bathroom then your bedroom and leave
you to it. They write ‘sleep as long as you need’ and you feel a bit uncertain
but are so tired you soon fall asleep in a strangers home in an unfamiliar
city, in a country you only entered 12 hours previously.
All the best, BF
NB Bristol Fostering is a personal blog and not affiliated with any fostering agency. The author just happens to be a foster carer in Bristol, UK
We do recommend Bristol Council though as they're fab. Bristol Council fostering enquiry form
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