Education in Zaatari

Often, critics come down hard on education in Zaatari. There are three official schools in Zaatari, meant to serve the 60,000 children living in the camp. However, only 1 out of 3 children aged 6 to 14 attends school. There are many different reasons — some students have been out of school for over a year, some children are focused on working or helping their family, some families don’t want their children walking across the camp alone, and there have been more than a few problems in the schools that has cost them designation as a “safe space.”

However one opinion I hear a lot is: “They don’t like to read.”

Most Syrians in Zaatari are from Deraa and the surrounding countryside. I’ve met many who cite the culture and upbringing of the Syrians of Zaatari Camp as the reason for the lack of interest in school. I’ve heard it inside the camp, from aid workers, and outside the camp, from Jordanians. These voices constantly speak about a the lack of interest from the parents and children themselves in learning.

I could (and have) argue against such an opinion for hours.

Parents are uninterested in forcing their kids to attend school? Maybe because they just watched their families killed and normal life destroyed – and are left dazed, with little hope for the future. Children are unmotivated to attend school? Maybe because they were just forced from their own schools, where they had friends, a curriculum they understood, teachers they loved and hated, and a community they called their own.

However, now I will add a new story to my argument: a wonderful family I have been working with through IRD’s Zaatari soccer program.

Shadi and Reem are a young couple from Deraa who fell in love – and despite the hesitations of their family – got married and started a life together. They left Deraa seven months ago, when the violence became all-encompassing and they feared for the safety of their three young children.

Sitting in their caravan, I watch their oldest daughter, Gazel, put on her bright blue UNICEF backpack and listen to her regale the family with stories from 1st grade.

“Today I learned….kaza kaza kaza.” Shadi and Reem have been teaching her since she was old enough to talk – now on command she can recite the English shes memorized (“toufah APPLE bisa CAT mouza BANANA ab wa im FATHER AND MOTHER”).

Today in conversation with Reem, I asked her to remind me – “Forgive me for forgetting, but how old is Gazel again?” Without missing a beat she responded, “4 years old.”

I nodded… then thought about it for a minute. Wait.. 4 years old? isn’t she in first grade?

With a smile Reem responded… “Sa7… kiberna’ha schway”

Which literally translates… “Yes, we grew her up a little bit”

Meaning this family, in addition to constantly teaching little Gazel, whether in Syria or in Zaatari Camp, also consciously stretched her age a bit — to allow her to go to school every day for 5 hours and benefit from the resources UNICEF is providing in the camp.

Thanks to her parents, when Gazel goes back to Syria she will actually be ahead of her peers by two years… because her parents really care about her education and take conscious steps to ensure she learns and develops each day – despite entering school for the first time far from home in a crowded refugee camp. These uplifting stories are more common than not – and sustain my faith in the people of Zaatari.

First Public Library in Zaatari

Duaa looks through the new books for Zaatari Camp’s first public library – opened by IRD and its Youth Committee

 

By Abdullah, age 10

Palestine, my name is Palestine.

I carved my name on all the places.

The letters of my name talk to me and call me free.

And my name is letters, and letters are my name.

– Palestinian song, I am Palestine

I’ve been having a lot of fun this year

Two Fulbright best friends – head to head jump rope.

Disclaimer: Biff had a broken foot but still wanted to play.

Note: I won.

 

By Selselbeel

My name is Selselbeel and I am 13 years old. My family is from Palestine [Palestine, land of Jerusalem and dreams; oh the land of Palestine, from which the Prophet ascended to the skies above; you who all hearts love]. Palestine means all hope to me.

 

We were forced out of our land, where we used to live, eat, and drink. Here in Jordan, we are looked at as Palestinians. They make us live in a disgusting environment (Palestinians and Jordanians). Here in Jordan, they make Palestinians pay fees and even in my country, Palestine, people do not live in safety. In my country, where the strong control the weak, the Israelis have always occupied us and occupied our homes. We enter our home by permit; we leave our homes by permit. One doesn’t live with security. They uproot orange trees from your sweet land, oh Palestine, and they change your name.

 

Oh Jerusalem, our beloved, whoever defends you is killed; they don’t remain alive. Tell us, why don’t we have freedom?

 

The elderly in Palestine are assassinated. When I hear my elders talk about Palestine, I become sad because I cannot go there and see all the places. They talk about Palestine and all the crises. (The Israelis) have named it after themselves; they’ve said it has been theirs since the beginning.

 

(They’ve done this) because they have no place, no country of their own to live in; they’ve done this because of the mountain, which they call Mount Zion. They used to break into our homes; they take from us the books of Palestinian history. There is no freedom for us.

 

Do you know anything about Palestine’s Nakba, which happened in 1948? And also (do you know) that the Nakba was the strong killing the weak? There was no security for us. They broke into our homes and took the men to prisons.

 

There were many victims. Among them was Handala (Naji Ali). He was 9 years old when we left Palestine. He was fighting Israelis with drawing and art. The date he was born is the Nakba, and his mothers name is the Nakba; he does not have a father or an identity. People named him Handala (bitterness). He was assassinated before the first Intifada (1987) and people still consider him a child until this time.

Another of the victims was Hassan Salama, who fought the Israelis with song, and destroyed their schemes. Those are some of the victims.

 

Here in Jordan, when I go to school, I see there are no wars like Palestine’s. And (I see that) the mother in Palestine, when she says goodbye to her children, feels like she will be seeing them for the last time.

 

(Here in Jordan), there is no one who cares about you, oh Palestine, who is my country, country of peace and olives.

Oh Jerusaleum, oh my city, oh child of burnt fingers,

Oh city that is full of sorrows,

Who will wash the blood out of the stones of your walls?

My country, country, of peace and olives.

Goodbye to our American Friends!

Goodbye to our American Friends! from “The Baqa’a Times”

A farewell to our American Pen Pals, as we all head off to summer vacation..

During the past year, students from the Orphan Welfare Association (OWA) in Baqa’a Camp, Jordan have been exchanging letters with Pen Pals from AB Regional Highschool in Acton, MA, US.

For the OWA students in Jordan, ranging in age from 6 years old to 16 years old, their Pen Pals were their first “American friends” and the first exposure they had to American people, culture, and life in general. The letter exchange both showed the OWA students the value of developing their English language skills and gave them a sense of connection to American people. Similarly for the AB students, this exchange provided insight into a corner of the world that Americans do not know much about; they have learned about life in the Middle East –> life in the Arab world –> life in Jordan –> and even more specifically, life in a Palestinian refugee camp in Jordan.

This video shows some of the OWA students saying goodbye to their classmates. Not pictured here are many other students, including high school students (Alanood, Rawhy, Mohammed, and Hana), who participated throughout the year. All of them send their love, thanks, and farewell to their friends in America.

Baqa’a Clean Up!

There is a huge problem with trash in Jordan. It comes from a lot of factors, which I’ll skip over theorizing on now, but the point is litter is everywhere and people take a very nonchalant attitude towards it. In fact, it is not strange to be walking behind someone and see him drop a wrapper/cigarette/coffee cup onto the ground as he walks – without a second glance.

In Baqa’a this problem is even more evident, exasperated by the fact that there are even worse services than in Amman (trash pick up, sewage, etc).

House in Baqa’a Camp

Trash outside a school

The OWA is not immune.. in fact the outside area we play in has been almost unuseable due to trash, glass, and stones strewn across it.

So for “Earth Day,” Marah, Nadine, and I decided to do something about it. We organized a “Baqa’a Beautification Day” to teach the children about respecting the environment and take action by cleaning up our own center.

Nadine filmed our class as we discussed why its important to clean the earth — the problems currently faced in our community — and what we can do about it. Then, of course, we sang songs and colored pictures. To close, Nadine interviewed some students and made a 60 second film for us:

“It’s Earth Day at the Orphan Welfare Association! Baqa’a is the largest Palestinian refugee camp in Jordan, with more than 100,000 registered refugees. A few excited kids tell us, in 60 seconds, how we can live more sustainably and care for the environment. They remind us what we already know, but sometimes forget: we all share the Earth.”

Isn’t she amazing? Aren’t the kids adorable? I truly believe that education is the only way to change a huge, complicated, societal problem like littering here in Jordan. Our kids will be on the front lines, telling their friends about how Miss Julie and Miss Marah never throw trash on the ground and yza3lu (get sad) whenever someone does..

Here are some shots from our clean up of the center:

The Baqa’a Times

I’ve been so bad about blogging lately.. its actually unreal. Have I mentioned yet that I started a student blog for the Orphan Welfare Association in Baqaa? Anyway, check it out (I’ve been decent about blogging on that platform)… http://thebaqaatimes.wordpress.com/

 

The Baqa’a Times is our OWA student blog. It has students’ writings (English and Arabic) and photos. The idea is to empower the students – giving them a platform to present their work, their Association, and their community. I also occasionally contribute stories about our activities. For example, the most recent post on “Rap and Graffiti” … our latest Friday program :)

If you get a chance, peruse the site. The OWA (and Baqa’a in general) remains to be my favorite place in Jordan.. and a big piece of my heart.

I feel like a proud mom when I think about it (I hate that I even just wrote that, gosh I’m old)… but really I can’t help but think: look, look, see powerfully Selselbeel wrote about her family? Look, look see what insights Hashem captured with his photos? Look, look can you believe little Ban memorized poetry about Palestine? Look, look how big are they smiling?

Saturday Snapshots

 

Check out our Saturday English Program at Baqa’a Camp…

Look at how much learning is happening!

My favorite Saturday anecdote… little 7 year old Rama walks in confidently, so I greet her with a smile: “Hi! How are you?” ….. “I am Rama!”

 

 

Also, with the donations we’ve been able to get some great stuff for the kids… who would have thought young kids in Jordan would also LOVE Guess Who?

Somehow we’ve convinced the kids that even during “play time” after class they should be using English.. which means that many have learned some more complicated words like bald — curly hair — mustache — beard in order to become masters of Guess Who.

Yet the best is, once again, a 7 year old named Wesam. He loves to play against his older brothers and tries to keep up with their English questions: “I do have yellow hair?”

 

 

Last Saturday we ended up there until 3 because the kids were having so much fun with the board games…

Miss, tala3bi ma3i?

Miss, play with me?

5 Broken Cameras

I stayed up late last night and finally watched “5 Broken Cameras.”

A really hard film to watch, but really important.

Its the best documentary I’ve seen to date that captures both a beautiful story — a young Palestinian family, a town committed to non-violence, and friends holding on to hope despite all evidence to the contrary — and the ugly reality of occupation and injustice.

This film is one that I watch and think I cannot believe this is real, despite the fact that I KNOW these things are real from both my academic study of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict as well as the anecdotes of friends…and despite the fact that I know all the footage of this film is from the “5 Broken Cameras” of a Palestinian farmer, Emad, over the last 5 years.

I have that thought because seeing the hardships and heartache of the Palestinians caught on film makes me think, this is too painful to be real. If it was this painful and this real.. we would be doing something to change it. Ya ret, I wish we were.

Its easy to forget the stories of people, as the politics disinterests us or foreign affairs feels far away from our normal life. Documentaries like this remind us.

How can I pretend that you do not exist?

It would be almost as impossible as you pretending that I do not exist.

 

What can we do?

“Luckily” our government is great friends with the Israeli government. And not only that, we provide them with over 3 billion dollars in direct foreign assistance every year. So when we watch “5 Broken Films” and feel like we cannot help these people… that’s not true. We have, more than any other peoples, the ability to influence change that improve lives on the ground.

Israel cannot keep treating people like this; it is sickening and heartbreaking and wrong. Its our job to push them to change, or to stop supporting them.

Tell your officials that the American people want Israel to work for peace and stop violating the basic rights and dignity of Palestinians.