on the job: the best kind of surprise
This is a story about Edi. He’s one of the beneficiaries at my foundation. Edi is a big guy who walks quickly and with purpose. He smiles beautifully and sometimes I catch him laughing to himself about some secret. But most of the time he looks blank and almost emotionless. He’ll do anything he’s asked, but he doesn’t seem to like or dislike anything. He doesn’t mind being around people, but he’s doesn’t seem to like it either. He has a fantastic memory, remembering all sorts of details about me, my family, other PCVs who have visited. Edi can rattle off capitals of almost any country imaginable and he could be the Romanian TV Guide as he knows the entire lineup for every major station. He has a growing English vocabulary and he’s great at quizzing me on my Romanian.
Edi has autism and part of that for him means that he talks repetitively and quite scripted– he asks the same questions all the time.
Ce face David? What’s David doing?
Cati ani are? How old is he?
Are frati? Does he have siblings?
And then he goes to the next person — me, or my mom, or my cat, or our sitemate, Alex.
Then he’ll get on another roll with translating words: Stiti ce inseamna raspberry? Do you know what raspberry means?
Or there’s the celebrity roll: Cunostiti pe Bill Clinton? Do you know Bill Clinton?
When I first met Edi, I answered all his questions. Now I try to mix things up. I ask him questions. I test his knowledge of obscure English words. I even jokingly give him incorrect answers to questions he knows the answers to already. I think he likes it best when I respond incorrectly because he smiles, laughs knowingly and corrects me. Doamna, David are un frat, nu are sora. David has a brother, not a sister, ma’am.
It’s kind of a verbal dance between us. Really, I do this to break up his speech patterns and gently force him to move off “his script” in the hopes of eliciting an authentic response. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. But I keep trying. Which brings me to Thursday when Edi surprised the heck out of me. We met in the hall and he asked how I was doing. We did our little conversational dance. How’s David? How your mom? How’s Zamfira, the cat? Then this happens:
Edi: Aduceti pisica dumneavoastra centrului? Are you going to bring your cat to the center?
Veronica: De ce? Why?
Edi: Vreau s-o vad Zamfira. I want to see Zamfira
Veronica: De sigur, o pot aduce Edi. Of course, I can bring her, Edi.
Edi: Cand, doamna? When, ma’am?
Veronica: Cand vine primavera si nu e prea frig afara. When spring comes and it’s not too cold outside.
Edi: Multumesc. Thank you.
Veronica: Cu placere. You’re welcome.
I was speechless afterwards. This was an authentic conversation. Short, but authentic. This wasn’t Edi’s scripted stuff, this was EDI! His desire to meet my Romanian cat Zamfira and the relationship we’ve developed motivated him to talk TO me, not at me. Really, I know it doesn’t seem like much — a conversation about a cat — but it was really the best kind of surprise.
Guess I gotta get a cat carrier to so Zamfira can go visiting when the snow melts.