The familiar sights and smells of Thanksgiving pervaded Barkisu Rahman’s Franklin Township apartment Thursday afternoon.
There were two turkeys, one roasting in the oven, the other in a pot that Rahman basted regularly on the stovetop. Fresh-cut onions would soon be added to couscous and chicken and spiced with tomatoes and hot, spicy pepper, a nod to her native Sierra Leone.
Soon the apartment would be filled with an expected 20 guests, many from the region’s West African diaspora, there to celebrate the holiday.
But this Thanksgiving meal would come with a bittersweet taste as the ongoing Ebola outbreak hung over the home like a cloud. And among Rahman’s guests would be four young Sierra Leonean women stuck in the United States because of the outbreak.
But even with the pain of being young and homesick for family and friends, the students – Kadiatu Koroma, Yvonne Stephanie Davies, Ethleen Macauley and Aziza Kamara, all of Freetown, the capital of Sierra Leone – radiated a gratitude that embodied the essence of the holiday, whether it’s in observance of a Pilgrim feast or just a gathering of people around a table, no matter what country they call home.
“They took us in,” Koroma said, seated closely to her companions on a couch. “They made us feel at home.”
The young women’s saga began months ago when they tested for an exchange program to mix athletics and academics. The four were selected and in July headed to North Carolina, where the program would be held.
But while the deadly viral disease was something known to west Africans for years, no one at the time knew the outbreak would build into a monumental disaster over the summer. Within weeks, more than 5,400 people would be dead, including Davies’ grandfather, and travel back to the country seemed out of the question.
“Who in good conscience would send them back there?” asked Foday Mansaray, of Somerset, a Sierra Leonean community organizer.
In addition, the disease has shut down the country’s schools and most of its commerce, Rahman said, so the young women would have nothing to do if they were home. The situation is even more dire than in 1991, when the country was split by a civil war, she said.
“Everything is like at a standstill,” Rahman said.
The young women miss their families and friends, but acknowledged that they have been helped at many steps along the way since being stranded.
Through Rahman’s nieces, Absat and Nenneh Mustapha, who are involved with the exchange program, they got linked into New Jersey’s Sierra Leonean community. They now live in New Brunswick with another of their countrywomen, Madim Kebby, they said.
With no income, they relied on the community to help them with clothing and everyday goods. Franklin High School officials worked around the lack of paperwork to get the young women, all of whom are 18 except the 17-year-old Kamara, enrolled into class.
The federal government even did its part as the Department of Homeland Security gave residents of the Ebola-affected countries, including Sierra Leone, Guinea and Liberia, Temporary Protected Status. The designation gives the visitors up to 18 months to stay in the United States legally.
But their introduction into American society came with its bumps.
Students and even some teachers at times reacted with alarm when they learned the young women were from Sierra Leone.
“They thought we were scary,” Macauley said.
But Ebola is not an easily transmitted virus. It is spread through contact with the bodily fluids of an infectious person, and was unknowingly transmitted when families there followed the ritual of washing and dressing the body of a person who had died, Rahman said. Part of the problem, she said, is that the country is woefully short of laboratories to test specimens. Additionally, the symptoms of Ebola in an infectious person look a lot like other diseases that are not nearly as deadly.
“It gets to us because we have families back there,” Davies said.
But as the news of the outbreak has lowered to a simmer, so has the fear. “Now we’re coping,” she said.
There also was culture shock, she added.
A few shocks were the good kind, they said: Experiencing the neon wonders of Times Square. Then, they had a more natural shock – enjoying their first snowfall on Wednesday.
Meantime, the young women said they are in regular contact with their families and wanted them to know that they miss them and look forward to coming home.
As they considered what they’re thankful for, their thoughts seemed to link Sierra Leone to the most American of homes. Families. Being able to go to school. All the people who helped them along the way.
They would like to think that they’ll be home for Christmas, when many in their community will go to the beach and celebrate communally. But they know that probably won’t happen.
Summoning the message of that season, Macauley said, “Maybe a miracle will happen.”
Tim Darragh may be reached at tdarragh@njadvancemedia.com. Follow him on Twitter @timdarragh. Find NJ.com on Facebook.