Having nearly three decades of experience under his belt — tiling in Syria and Lebanon — Ahmad Al Jedaan is eager to continue making his mark in his new homeland.
After arriving in New Zealand in February as a former refugee, Mr Al Jedaan is now learning English four hours a day, four days a week.
For someone used to working long hours, he is still getting used to having so much time on his hands.
So when his friend Ross Taylor gave him some furniture, he wanted to find a way to say thank you.
Mr Taylor said Mr Al Jedaan turned up at his house to help him and ‘‘next thing, bang, bang, bang. He was slapping down tiles so fast, and they were perfect.’’
It had been a job he had been putting off for a while, Mr Taylor said.
‘‘If I had have done it, it would have been awful and would’ve taken a long time, but he just did it and it was beautifully done.’’
For his friend, the job was easier than most.
Out of all of his tiling jobs over the last 27 years — working with Italian and Portuguese stone, tiling swimming pools and paving elaborate driveways — some stood out as harder than others. Like tiling walls in Beirut with tiles measuring 2m high and 1m wide.
‘‘They must have weighed a heap,’’ Mr Taylor added.
Mr Al Jedaan started tiling at 20 years old, and said when he entered a house to work, he treated it like his own home.
He made sure to ‘‘pay attention to all the finer details’’.
He felt while his English classes were ‘‘very important’’, he would like some part-time work he could do in conjunction with his language course.
Mr Taylor said he noticed with the quality of work his friend was churning out that ‘‘all he needed was a testimonial’’.
‘‘Among all of the families who have settled here, there are a vast supply of tradies.
‘‘I realise the language could be a barrier, but Google Translate helps with working with people and building good friendships.’’
Their own friendship had been helped along immensely by Google Translate.
Mr Al Jedaan’s family had been very successful in Syria with their own house and a supermarket, but when all that was destroyed by the war, he and his family fled to Lebanon.
They spent 12 years there, where Mr Al Jedaan had continued his career and his oldest son Mosleh had commenced an apprenticeship to be a mechanic.
Mr Taylor said that he and his friend had recently seen photos of Mr Al Jedaan’s mother standing out in front of the rubble where his house had once stood.
Mr Taylor said his friend was ‘‘a real gentleman with a really supportive family behind him’’.
‘‘He has settled in unbelievably fast.’’
Mr Taylor popped in ‘‘as much as possible’’ to see the family.
The Raqwa coffee pot was always at the ready, and with all of Mr Al Jedaan’s wife Zahrah’s ‘‘delicious’’ home baking, Mr Taylor was full of compliments.
‘‘They are some of the nicest people I have come across in a long time. They are so conscientious, honest and given to hospitality.’’
The affection was mutual.
‘‘Ross is a good person. Since we came to Timaru, he’s been helping our family,’’ Mr Al Jedaan said.
His enthusiastic friend was ‘‘the best’’, he said.
The family had taught Mr Taylor how to dabke, which is a Levantine Arab folk dance popular in Syria.
While Mr Al Jedaan claimed his friend’s dancing was ‘‘good’’, the video footage of the dancing included some stifled giggles and a flustered looking Mr Taylor.
Mr Taylor — who grows carnivorous plants in Geraldine — had given the family a carnivorous plant as a token of his admiration.
While there had been mutterings of more prestigious names, they had ‘‘named it Ross Al Jedaan’’.
PHOTO: SUPPLIED
