On Immigrants
For The Sun magazine

I occasionally take my ball python "Hadassah" with me on small errands during warm weather. Last summer, we were on our way to the bank. We passed by small shops and bus stops as my sandals clacked on the burning pavement. Hadassah was wrapped around my neck and was sticking her figure eight shaped head out to taste the fresh air.

We arrived at the bank and the cool air met us at the door. I deposited a check with as little as a "nice snake" comment from the bank teller. As I exited the bank I noticed a shawled older woman and a child pointing at me. As I walked down the sidewalk in their direction I noticed they were East Indians. The old woman was bent over and skinny with a blue sari and her wide-eyed grandson was barefoot and hiding behind his grandmother.

They pointed at Hadassah and I confirmed she was real by unwrapping her from around my neck and holding her out in my hands for them to see. They both were startled and the grandmother ushered me into the door as the little boy ran inside shouting in Bengali. I followed them into the air-conditioned building and found more children and women inside. They were all enchanted by the American girl and her tame Ball Python. They talked among each other in Bengali. One woman forbid her children to come near me. Others held out their hands to touch or hold Hadassah. The others giggled and kept their distance. I looked around the unfinished walls, the absence of furniture and the many East Indians inside. I gathered that the family had rented the building to start a small business and the whole extended family was living in the building as well. The old woman asked me my age, my occupation and where I lived. In her eyes I saw loneliness. She told me they had just immigrated here. I was the first American she had had a conversation with. She invited me back, patted my hand smiling and the children all waved goodbye as I left their building and made my way home.

As I left, I wondered how many more immigrants were living together in half-finished buildings or packed houses, lonely and scared, just waiting for someone to pass by to talk with. Hadassah has given me many occasions to talk with people I would have never talked to. She has been a bridge, and a living link for me to connect with people of much different worlds than mine.