Recently, he's been doing some of the housework and taking care of his wife. But he still spends free time playing basketball, darts or pool with other refugees he's met, like Jack, who is now a Realtor, and Denis, who just opened his own sandwich shop.
He speaks loudly and enthusiastically about their success. It appears to be only a matter of time before he joins them in the small-business world. He's just waiting for the right opportunity.
Paolo Vescia
Ana Sijecic Ismihna (foreground) keeps tabs on sizzling Quarter Pounders.
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He calls America a "lovely place, [with] lovely people."
Visjna Arapovic, 45, feels the same way.
"I'm really in love with Princess right now," she says. She's been at the Princess for two years and is the director of housekeeping services.
Visjna is short, just slightly over five feet, and has a lot to say about her experiences that led her to America.
She is very friendly and neatly groomed in her housekeeper's uniform.
The Sarajevo resident left the city in 1990 to attend a tennis tournament in Croatia. Her sons are both tennis players and her husband was a tournament organizer.
She never returned to Sarajevo. The war with the Serbs erupted while she was in Croatia.
Her husband fought as a soldier, and she and her sons sought asylum in Germany, where they lived for five years. Her husband joined them, and they applied for asylum in the United States.
They arrived in Phoenix in November 1997.
In her old life, Arapovic worked as an economist. Her husband was a civil engineer who had worked in Europe, the Middle East and Asia.
He had "a very hard time after Sarajevo and in Germany," Arapovic says, adjusting to a more menial lifestyle than they were used to. His tensions eased once they were in the U.S.
During the first two years in Phoenix, her husband delivered pizzas. But now he's getting back into civil engineering at a local firm.
Her son Bruno, 21, plays tennis under a scholarship at the University of Arizona. Her son Karlo, 17, also wants a scholarship but wants to go to Harvard or Stanford.
Arapovic wants to better her English at Scottsdale Community College using the company's tuition assistance. She says she is happy doing what she does and has no plans to work again as an economist.
Initially, Arapovic and her husband worried about moving to the U.S. because she'd heard about high crime rates and drug use among teenagers.
They eventually chose Phoenix after hearing about Sheriff Joe Arpaio.
"In Germany we watched something about Mr. Arpaio. . . . It was at this time we thought we wanted to go there," Arapovic says.
They were impressed with the way he treated criminals. And, they "hope that Mr. Arpaio will control everything."
The power of green bologna and pink underwear.
These refugees fled their countries searching for freedom and understanding. They found themselves in the United States.
Ironically, they also found themselves at McDonald's, perhaps one of the most visible symbols of Western civilization and the free world.
The thousands of refugees coming to Phoenix each year will likely begin their American experience at a McDonald's or another lower-level job. For many, the fast-food chain is a miniature Ellis Island -- their gateway to American understanding.
It may be a motivator as well, because McDonald's shows just how far the American Dream can be stretched.
