A drop in the ocean

This Christmas, half my family got “in your name donations”… meaning I bought winter gloves ($1 / pair) and fuzzy socks/slippers ($1.50 / pair) in Jordan for kids in Za’atari I know need them. I put this together with some photos, and it made for a touching gift.

I was discussing this with a friend, and she relayed a common sentiment: the love of donations like the above, where you see the result (50 girls got a pair of mittens and socks for the winter), and the lackluster other option, “donating to big organizations that already have so much money.”

I think this is a pretty common opinion.. and all the more frustrating because its patently false. I watched the below video — images of refugees walking across the Jordanian border, story of a paralyzed 2 year old heading with her family to live in Za’atari Camp — and was reminded again how massive the need is, the need that these “big organizations” are seeking to respond to.

UNHCR recently appealed for a record high 6.5 billion in funding to deal with the Syrian crisis. That’s a huge amount of money… but in the 4th year of this tragic war, its expected that the humanitarian community will be providing aid to 3/4ths of the Syrian population. That’s a shocking number – 3/4ths of a population in need of help.

To make it more clear, the same friend hands me a “Christmas gift” check for $120 for the kids in our programs. I am overjoyed (that’s a lot of money coming from a recent grad), and thank her, “It seems like something small, but $120 is 240 pairs of mittens.” My friend laughed, “No need to spend it all on mittens.” But the follow up response, of course, put it in perspective: there are 100,000 Syrians in Za’atari Camp.. 60,000 children… and 240 pairs means that 59,760 children – in Za’atari Camp alone – don’t receive any.

Anyway, the fact of the matter is the reason these organizations appear to “have so much money” … is because they need so much money… and then some.

Another common opinion, it seems, is that the need is so huge, what’s the use of a small donation? Again, an idea that couldn’t be farther from the truth. For one great donation idea, check out this new campaign – a partnership between Mercy Corps and a grassroots volunteer group in Jordan – We Care About Syria.

To imagine how far the money can stretch:

• $3 will provide a child with art materials and toys wrapped in a bright bag to look like a gift rather than a hand-out.
• $5 will provide a family with a hygiene package of essentials
• $15 will provide a mattress
• $30 will provide a whole kitchen cooking and eating set for a family of 6
• $35 will provide three blankets
• $100 will provide a child’s wheelchair; so many children have suffered injuries in this war
• $850 will buy a house – yes, we can buy and install a prefabricated house for a refugee family living outside of the camps in make-shift tents. A farmer has donated some land and the families in need identified.

Anyway, I suppose my other point all along has been, a drop in the ocean is still a drop.

Winter Ups and Down

Well, it snowed in Jordan!

I can’t help but feel constant ups and downs about the early start to winter.

I’ll share some of them in attempts of explanation..

1) Being snowed in for an all-night Christmas party at Dan’s house.

2) Watching little kids building a snowman in a neighborhood of Homs in Syria – which has been blockaded by the regime for 500, thus left to face the early winter storm with no gas or electricty.

As the citizen journalist describes the dire situation in the neighborhood, the kids interrupt, talking amongst themselves “Now put the eyes! Yeah, just use the snow.”

More at: Syria Direct

3) Venturing out in the snow to gather the necessary supplies for 3 days of movies, hot chocolate and kahlua, and snuggling.

4) Thinking of friends in Zaatari sitting in caravans, or worse, in tents without heaters or winter clothes as strong winds and heavy rain rips through the camp.

More at: Syria Direct

5) Arriving in Boston, happy to be home for a White Christmas.

6) Reading about refugees in Lebanon, who are all the more worse off from snowfall and lack of resources.

A flock of small boys trotted by. “Bring us clothes!” one shouted. “We are cold!” called another.

More at: NY Times

I guess its inevitable that I couldn’t be happier or sadder that winter is finally here. It seems appropriate to return back to some favorite lines from Mahmoud Darwish, Think of Others:

As you return home, to your home, think of others
(do not forget the people of the camps).

As you sleep and count the stars, think of others
(those who have nowhere to sleep).

One of my favorites from Zaatari wearing his new winter hat – which he chose himself during our distribution of over 4,000 donated hats.

He was pretty happy with himself and, needless to say, warm.

You can donate to the UN emergency response here

No one feels the pain, except he who is injured

Well, its clear how much I love Reem and Shadi’s family … as I am compelled to write another post about them. The two fell in love and married, despite families’ misgivings, when they were 19 and 20 respectively. Now they have their own beautiful family with two small girls and a little boy all under age 4.

If its true what they say about one’s real character showing under adversity – well, then I’d imagine its hard to find better people than Reem and Shadi. There’s a lot that could keep them sad or bitter.. but you never heard a bad word from them, instead they are constantly buried in work serving the community.

The other day, I gave Shadi some permanent markers to use to decorate his caravan. I came back today and my heart melted – two messages with such simple honesty that made me happy.. and sad.

An expression of love..

Shadi — “Every beat of my heart says I love you” — Reem

Paired with a sad truth…

Don’t complain to people of your injuries

No one feels the pain, except he who is injured

Even the strongest of families in Zaatari have been injured. One thing I’ve learned from working there … you rarely find something happy without being reminded of something sad.

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.

A Photo Update on My Life

Travelling the Wadi Rum Desert: Katy and our Bedouin Guide

High School Flashback: Basketball Clinic for Baqaa Girls

Arts and Crafts Mailed From Mom: Ban and Jeelan Kidnap Me

Carnivale at Baqaa: King Mohammed

Peace in Zaatari: New Girls’ Sports Program

And.. that’s all! Sorry for disappearing. Can’t promise I won’t do it again, but I am going to try to resume my good blogging skills this Eid vacation!

 

Oh Children of the World

This week, I heard a beautiful song called ya atfal al 3lim or “Oh Children of the World.” Apparently, its a very famous song – as the story goes a young Syrian girl named Hala sang it in Arabic, Italian, Turkish, Spanish.. you name it.. at the United Nations. Everyone here was surprised I had not heard it before.

I’m not sure if an English version exists – but after hearing it sung at Zaatari Camp this week by a young Syrian from Deraa, I have fallen in love with the song. Though its much more beautiful in Arabic/Italian, with help from a friend, the translation is below – along with some pictures from Zaatari.

Sing with us for our childhood,

oh children of the world

With your happiness and our happiness,

we build the world’s glory

We are from the homeland of freedom,

and we call you from Syria.

oh children of the world

 

Let’s call to those older than us,

our future is in your hands

So that no one forgets about us  – and protects us

Until we grow up like a green branch,

a grain of wheat becomes a whole field,

and our knowledge becomes larger,

Oh children of the world

Do not forget the children deprived – in every country occupied

Or children living oppressed

Or a tear burning in his eye

No to hunger and no to injustice

No to despair and no to fear

No to ignorance and no to violence

around the world

Oh Children of the World

Erbil

A few weeks ago, Nadine and I travelled together to Erbil in Iraqi Kurdistan. We went for work – to cover IOM’s projects in the area. The whole trip, I couldn’t help thinking how surreal it was…two best friends, paid to go on an adventure to a new place, meeting and interviewing people who have beautiful stories of hardship turned success with a little help from IOM. Really, it does not get much better than that.

Perhaps the best takeaway of the trip though was feeling the impact IOM has had on its beneficiaries’ lives – as well as seeing the way IOM staff truly integrate themselves into the local communities. There are many cynics of humanitarian work and aid in general – they talk of top-down approaches, programs that ignore local realities, and office bureaucracies that forget about the humanity of the people they serve. Yet watching IOM staff in action re-affirmed my belief in this work.

The staff members truly became a part of the communities in which they worked – IOM staff and beneficiaries looked at each other as friends and partners, working toward the same goal together. The local community groups informing IOM’s work were active and passionate, volunteering their time to ensure effective programming for the vulnerable populations in need of assistance. More than that, I cannot even count the number of times beneficiaries told us, a lot of different organizations came and took photos of us… but IOM was the first to do anything to help. It was truly inspirational to see such good work being done – and having a big impact.

To see the result of our trip — check out the newsletter produced on IOM’s Community Revitalization Program

As always, because IOM blogging rules are unclear.. disclaimer: these are IOM’s photos but only my opinions :)

Ramadan in Amman

Well, Ramadan is over! al hamdulileh.

What can I say about Ramadan? – the holiest month in Islam, during which most Muslims fast from food, water, coffee, smoking… you name it. Fasting begins with the dawn prayer and finishes as the adhan sounds for the sunset prayer. Families gather together and wait patiently for the adhan, then have iftar – the breaking of the fast. From that moment (usually around 7:45) until dawn, people stay up late with their friends and families, eating and celebrating together. Sahour, the last meal before the next day’s fast, comes shortly before dawn – at 3:00 or 4:00 in the morning. Needless to say, there’s not much sleeping during Ramadan.

Ramadan completely changes the city: ranging from a shortened workday (8:30 to 2:30), to a lack of social life/cafes open during the day to late Ramadan nights always finished by fireworks.

 

For me, I experienced Ramadan in two ways: as a foreigner and as a volunteer.

 

First of all – as a foreigner. Every day I felt like I was basically fasting. With 99% of the population Muslim, eating in public was out of the question. Nadine and I would go to work, realize we forgot to pack a lunch, then remember that there’s no food anywhere in the office. Khalas, I guess we’re “fasting” today. There were multiple days of purchasing a twix bar between work and going to the OWA, then ducking down a random alley to eat it. #ramadanproblems. Technically, its against the law to eat in public during Ramadan. Besides, even if it wasn’t – its just respectful to refrain from doing so. At night, after iftar, as I drank my bottle of water in a taxi or nibbled on snack as I walked home, I always caught myself heaving a sigh: “I looove eating in public.”

My friend Kait – preparing an iftar for us and some of our students. Note: I helped!

There were, of course, always funny moments too. For example, when I went to Wael’s house during the day and everyone kept trying to feed me. No matter how much I explained that I didn’t want to eat out of respect – and besides, I’m not hungry! – they kept offering and offering (“this isn’t your religion, you don’t need to fast!”)… at one moment Wael’s mom told him to leave the room so I could “eat and not feel shy.”

Me, trying to grill meat — Ban, trying to show me how

Its not that us foreigners are alone in these “Ramadan woes.” In fact, many of my friends were not fasting – in particular the other volunteers from Baqaa at the OWA. They are all Muslim, but for various reasons chose not to fast. Some don’t because they are not particularly religious; some only fasted on days that they weren’t busy (can you imagine being in class half a day then at work until iftar without food or water?). I learned quickly that when the office door at the OWA was shut it meant that volunteers were inside – drinking coffee or smoking.

Second all – as a volunteer. The OWA was busier than I’ve ever seen it during Ramadan. I had heard stories of Ramadan (“we work every day, all day”) but to see it in action was something else. During the month of Ramadan, the OWA had 3-5 iftars a week for the kids. It all depended on donations – someone would fund us or host us, then we would organize activities for the kids and take them out to break the fast. It was really telling that on the first night of Ramadan – the night you’d expect everyone to be with their families – we brought 100 children to iftar with the OWA and their donor. Thanks to the OWA, these orphans get to have a Ramadan that feels special too.

Ahmad and I debating the best dance move to correspond with Knaan’s “Wave Your Flag” – which we performed for donors at one of the big iftars

The OWA also used donations to purchase clothing for each child. After Ramadan, there is a four-day celebration called “Eid.” It’s a little like Christmas in that families gather and give their children presents – usually new Eid clothes. For the orphans, their families cannot afford such gifts. Therefore the center takes the kids out throughout Ramadan and gives them money to purchase a new outfit; last week we gave all the children these gifts. Over Eid, they dressed in their new clothes just like all the other kids.

Little Ban singing in front of her (much older) peers at one of the iftars

It probably goes without saying that the OWA is what made Ramadan special for me. Those kids really had a great month — thanks to the hard work of committed volunteers — and I, in turn, did too. So khalas even though I have had enough of Ramadan for next year, I do hope I’m in the region to experience another one in the future.

Hungry little ones waiting for the adhan in order to eat their iftar!

Above and below:

Abu Ghasem and I amusing the little shebab before going out for an iftar

Rama riding on a carousel after we were hosted by an amusement park for iftar!

“Because really the only story to tell in war is how to live without fear. It all could be over in an instant. If I knew that, then I wouldn’t have been so afraid to love, to dare, in my life; instead of being here, now, hugging myself in this dark, rancid corner, desperately regretting all I didn’t do, all I didn’t say.

You who tomorrow are still alive, what are you waiting for? Why don’t you love enough? You who have everything, why you are so afraid?”

– Woman’s Work: The Twisted Reality of an Italian Freelancer in Syria

A New Adventure

I alluded recently to my new work (with aforementioned roommate Nadine) but have yet to elaborate. So, as a minor life update, we are working with the International Organization for Migration (IOM). I started volunteering with them during my Fulbright and am now working full time in the Public Information department. Its been a great experience, and IOM is a wonderful organization doing important work all over the world.

Our corner of this organization is IOM-Iraq, which is remotely based in Amman but works in Iraq to assist internally displaced people, returnees, and local host communities. Its been a great learning experience for me, as someone who previously knew little about the situation in Iraq. The situation there is complicated and remains dire; organizations like IOM are making a big difference on the ground to help people whose communities are in need and whose security remains fragile.

IOM-Iraq has also been helping Syrian refugees in Iraq. Iraq is not the first place people think of when reflecting on the Syrian crisis, yet at present UNHCR estimates over 160,000 Syrians have fled there. Resources are stretched, and there is great need.

The largest camp is Domiz Camp, in Dahuk governorate of Iraqi Kurdistan. Nadine recently visited this camp as well as Erbil governorate to collect material about IOM’s response to the Syrian crisis. Thereafter, IOM produced a report about the response — You can read it and see photos from the field here on IOM’s website: Relief Beyond Immediate Needs

Nadine also has been documenting the stories of IOM beneficiaries. They are beautiful and inspiring films, which I am excited to share with you. Check out the first one here, and the rest will be up soon on IOM’s YouTube.

So, al muhim, I have been really happy in this new work, learning about a new corner of the Middle East, and contributing to a new organization’s humanitarian efforts. Its also worth saying, that of course, nothing I write is representative of IOM and all reflects my own opinions. However you can learn more about the important work IOM is doing by following IOM here on Facebook or checking out IOM Iraq’s website here!