Seen through the eyes of a group of Sudanese refugees as they try to establish a new life in the United States, we Americans look like a lonely and isolated bunch of workaholics. In many ways, this country is a land of promise for these orphans, who fled war-torn Sudan, wandered through the Sahara, spent 10 years in a bare-bones refugee camp in Kenya and were then chosen to start a new life overseas. Yet the sense of cultural dislocation they must overcome is as revealing, in its own way, as that recreated in Borat. One man fails to understand how Santa Claus has overtaken Jesus as the central figure of Christmas. Another laments the fact that he can’t ask strangers for directions because everyone seems to walk around in their own bubble of fear. Nearly all of them must work two, even three jobs to be able to afford the “necessities” (car, mobile phone) of a Western lifestyle. And then there is the downside of American individualism. Observing that there is little sense of community in the United States, one of the refugees longingly recalls the group camaraderie he used to feel with his fellow Sudanese. In this scene and others, God Grew Tired of Us made me wonder: What does it say about the society we’ve created that it makes war-scarred visitors miss their refugee camp?