Content statement: This article contains themes of death

I want to help serve, I want to chat, but it seems extremely difficult to communicate. Even so it feels today should not be the day. I feel intrusive, almost as if should not be there. Today is a celebration of Laslo, a long-standing member, and a cherishished voice in the homeless community.

I am now sitting where they make funeral preparations for Laszlo. To see the care, and the attention to detail, there is not a dry in the house. The pain in their eyes is prominent, the strength of their community, the love for the people that go there. I can understand a bit, but there is such a disconnect. I want to understand the intricacies. There is laughter and moments of reminiscing, breaking up the tension, but as a silence heads, the weight is immense. It is moments like this in my project. That will be the hardest, because I as an outsider language, and in general reach a barrier that I don’t know if I can get past. I am trying, but it is like a transcript. I don’t have the technology to read, the ink battle. I just go here a place of understanding, but in these older spaces, and long-term care, it seems I would have an issue they don’t speak English, really, only Dutch, I can use Google Translate and we can converse that way, but even then, there will be things that will be lost.

when you were not an native speaker, I can understand how different it can be to immigrate and be a part of the culture. Especially when you cannot communicate, nor understand. You just sit there, waiting for it to click, find some remnants in a language, that you know but it never does.