High Expectations

By Sania Mathakutha
Staff Writer

None of my family members have ever left their comfort zone of South Africa.I’m the first. I’m going to America; America the great, America the beautiful. So they say. I will confirm that when I get there. My father seems to be more excited than me. He believes that this trip could bring about change for the Mathakutha family. My mother, on the other hand, feels completely different. Knowing her I’m not surprised. Don’t get me wrong I’m not saying she is not a supportive person; it’s just that she can be a bit overbearing at times, but that’s another story.

Almost everybody I know, from my friends, aunts, cousins, and “boyfriends” are contributing financially towards my departure.

June 2003 I arrive in Austin Texas. I’m here to be an Au Pair for the Horton family who have two beautiful girls ages 3 and 7. A month later I realize that I will not be able to live up to the expectations and promises I made my people when I left home. Not with the $124.50 that I was making a week. When I was home that amount a week seemed like a lot of money. Boy was I mistaken. All the excitement about being here now is quickly diminishing. What am I going to do? I promised to buy people cars, houses, and clothes. There was no way in hell that I was going to afford all these things. I had to make a plan, and I had to make one fast.

November 2003 I decided to abscond to Connecticut. I started working two jobs just to make ends meet. Things started looking like they were falling into place until April 2006, when I got arrested. At 7 a.m. I just walked into my apartment from my overnight job, and I was getting ready for my next one. I was startled by a knock at the door. I was wondering who it could be at this time of the morning. I ignored it. That didn’t help because the knocking seemed to get louder and louder. Next thing I hear is, “police, and open the door.” My heart started beating so loud and so fast it wanted to jump out of my chest. I was shaking like a leaf as I made my way to the door. I opened it and everything that happened after that was like a movie; or a nightmare. When the cold handcuffs gripped my wrists I thought I was going to die. “We will be taking you to the Immigration offices in Hartford for some questioning”, said the male officer. His voice was so cold. I cried in the car all the way to Hartford.

I couldn’t believe what was happening. I always new that as I got older I would go through trials and tribulations of life, but never in my wildest dreams did I think I would ever go to “jail”. Was I going to wake up later only to find out I was dreaming?

Upon arrival at Hartford I was placed in a holding cell all by myself. Fortunately I had my cell phone with me, but when I tried making calls there was no signal. I sat on a cold block of cement for four hours. I was so cold I couldn’t even feel my hands or feet. People would go by looking at me like I was some criminal or vicious animal. “I wonder what she’s in for.” I heard a lady say as she went by. I had stopped crying at that point. I might as well save my salt water. There I was in the land of the “free”, but not “free”, caged up. I felt like I was out of my body, looking at myself “behind bars.” I was told that they were following protocol, checking to make sure that my passport and visa were still valid and that I was in the country legally. Fortunately for me my paper work checked out fine. Finally to what seemed like eternity they let me out and sent me home; just like that.

Two months later I hired a Lawyer and he helped me adjust my status. My life was completely changed. I went home to South Africa a year later. I told my story to my family and everybody was very supportive and sympathetic. A month later after I arrived home my father asked me if I would ever go back to America, and I surprised him with a confident “yes”. I told him I was actually planning on leaving in another month. Not to work though, but to get an education.

Without a doubt, America offers very high quality postsecondary education and I’m happy that I’m a part of that. When I left my father he was more proud of me then he was the first time I left. The second time was a charm because I left stress free. The only promise I made was to bring home a degree.