Ten adult Ukrainians are sitting across from me in the cramped room of the Refugee Council. They have been working with me on their Dutch every week for three months. Ilyana, a newcomer, enters. Beads of sweat on her forehead and red spots on her neck. She makes herself small when she sits down. The participants take turns to complete this sentence: I like to drink… They joke: a kilo of sugar and a drop of black tea. A lot of alcohol is also discussed. Then it is Ilyana’s turn: “I like drinking coffee milk.” The group bursts out laughing. Ilyana starts to cry.
Readers are the authors of this column. An Ije is a personal experience or anecdote in a maximum of 120 words. Submit via [email protected]