Zaatari Camp

 

Images of Zaatari Camp, where I went with Save the Children for a week.

 

 

 

We walked through tents and caravans to tell people about the opening of the “Bahrain School” for the Spring semester.

We registered over 2,000 students for this school and the new school, “Saudi School,” that will open next month.

 

Then, we played with the kids. We had a huge “welcome” activity at the school; our group ran games, did facepaint, and helped the kids draw pictures to decorate.

It was an amazing experience.

Zaatari is a really sad place.. but between us and the kids,

the school itself was a happy place.

Inshallah, I will share more insights and details with you all… but for now I just wanted to put out these photos.

I went to Zaatari over two weeks ago. Every day we were there more tents came up, because thousands of people are coming across the border every day. This weekend, over 3500 Syrians crossed into Jordan.

When we were registering students for the “Bahrain School,” we always mentioned that two other schools were opening soon to hold all the children: first the “Saudi School” next month then the “UAE school” after two/three months.

We always prefaced this, “inshallah rah traja3u 3la suria abl 7aik,“ God willing you will return to Syria before this is necessary… (but just in case, register your kids).

Its sad to see that these new schools are needed, and the refugee flow is increasing not decreasing, and the conflict is continuing unabated, and the children we played with for a week will continue week after week after week living a half-life in Zaatari camp.

Inshallah rah traja3u 3la suria abl 7aik…

The Best Part of my Fulbright Experience

I talk and write a lot about “my kids,” by which I mean the young students I teach every weekend at the Orphan Welfare Association (OWA) of Baqa’a refugee camp. Its really been the cornerstone of my Fulbright experience so far.

I am there every Friday, leading a program for four to nine year olds, and every Saturday, managing and teaching four English classes; even over the kids’ school vacation, I chaperoned their overnight Winter Camp.

The OWA is where that I launched my cultural exchange projects, connecting my young students with a 6th grade class in the Bronx, NY (taught by one of my best friends, Alyssa) and my high school students with a 9th grade class in Acton, MA (taught at my former high school!).

Its also where I have made my best friends. Nisreen and I spend every Friday together now, “Baqa’a day” is synonomous for “our day.” Both my Fulbright friends (Biff, Lisa, Maria, Thawab, and Maya) and my Petra University students have all joined me as regular volunteers. And to make it all the better, I gained new friends from the local community, as the Baqa’a residents welcomed me into their lives with open arms.

And to make it all the better, my roommate NADINE made the OWA a short video. So now, finally, I get to show a piece of this experience to you.

IN THE EVENT you were toying with the notion of getting me a birthday gift.. take a minute to donate to this organization to help us continue serving and supporting “our kids” :)

Our Fundraising Page:

http://fundly.com/orphan-welfare-association

If only I were a candle in the dark..

I am back from my vacation (Bahrain, Dubai, Oman).. and it was amazing. I cannot wait to share my stories of the places I saw, friends I made, and things I learned. I had planned to kick off my return with a few blog posts about it, but reality kicked in.

 

BBC wrote a really powerful article about the Syrian refugee crisis that is definitely worth a read. I wanted to share some of the numbers and quotes that shocked me back to the harsh, real world…

– since Jan. 1st, 26,500 refugees have crossed the Jordanian border

– nearly 3,000 refugees cross the border every day

– over 50,000 refugees are waiting to be able to cross

– 10,500 refugees crossed over in the last five days

Those are unfathomable numbers. I feel like I’ve read so much about Syria (statistics of refugees, deaths, injuries, food insecurity) that sometimes it seems not real. Its terrible how easy it is to forget that each number is a person.

I have 2,222 facebook friends… which means in one day, there are more Syrian refugees arriving at the Jordanian border than my entire social network.

Fairfield University has about 3,500 undergrads… if this crisis was happening in our backyard, it would be like watching nearly my whole university fleeing across the border.

Its – for lack of a better word – unimaginably sad. And I, perhaps all of us, need to be reminded of the human face behind the numbers.

Another [man] said he felt the international community was simply looking on at Syria’s tragedy “as if they were looking through a window. Where is the humanity?”

That quote really hit home… for all our reading and watching and listening… the crisis continues unabated.

I go on a vacation to the Gulf for 5 days … while 10,500 Syrians flee across the border. Its a luxury to be able to live in such happy ignorance.. and I feel terrible for it.

“What good are your cameras? We are getting no support from anyone,” one man told the BBC.

 

 

Really, I don’t know the best answer to the question hanging in the air:

“Well, what can we do?”

But to start, we can help with funding. The UN only received pledges for 3% of its Syrian Urgent Appeal. We can donate to provide tangible support to refugees here: http://donate.unhcr.org/syria

We can also tell our government to keep supporting the UN’s work. We’ve given nearly $210 million to Syria thus far and now are working to encourage other countries to do the same. You know, even cash-strapped Greece recently donated 50,000 euros to UNICEF to assist children at Zaateri camp in Jordan.. We can ask our government to build on this support: http://www.usa.gov/Contact/Elected.shtml 

 

Its hard to write frivolously about my life and last big adventure when the world is so different just 3 hours north of my home in Amman. There’s a suffocating feeling of guilt for living such an easy life when others face unimaginable hardship. I tackle this feeling by doing these “little” things, with my money and my voice, and most importantly, remembering not to forget…

Think of Others

As you prepare your breakfast, think of others

(do not forget the pigeon’s food).

As you wage your wars, think of others

(do not forget those who seek peace).

As you pay your water bill, think of others

(those who are nursed by the clouds).

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).

As you express yourself in metaphor, think of others

(those who have lost the right to speak).

As you think of others far away, think of yourself

(say: If only I were a candle in the dark).

– Mahmoud Darwish

Teaching KG …. or the reason I never have a voice at the end of the week

Every Friday I run an English program for roughly 35 boys and girls, ranging from 4 to 10 years old. The program is about 3 1/2 hours, with a lunch in the middle… and it has led me to have ENORMOUS respect for KG teachers who do this full time. Wallahee, I don’t know how they do it!

Check out the below photo… describes my class in a nutshell…

Note: 28-ish children in the photo – with 5 or so out of view – in an office turned makeshift classroom/playroom. The blonde is the back is my friend Lisa and on the walls are the months of the year…. and the children scattered across every possible table and flat space are drawing pictures of their birthday month. We love drawing.  :)

Anyway, so the class is often CRAZY and results in me yelling a lot in Arabic. BUT its easily my favorite part of the week… because despite their wildness, I love the kids!

I joke (all the time) about how off the wall they are… but really, they are much more dedicated young kids than I imagined you’d find many other places.

FOR EXAMPLE… its a Friday. That’s our weekend here. But still they come to learn English and play and practice together! PLUS they mostly attend UNRWA (United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestinian Refugees) schools, which all operate on a double shift. That means that the kids go to school for only 4 hours but they go 6 days instead of 5 —> meaning that on Saturday they have class —> meaning that the only day off they have from school, FRIDAY, is the day that they come to my English Program.

Not to mention that there are 35 of them, with a 6 year age span between them, and we are either in a small office or a “backyard” of concrete…..  yet still they are managable, learning, and having fun.

Really, they inspire me!

So… more photos to come soon. But in the meanwhile, here’s a happy one of me and some of the little ones holding up their drawings :)

Who you are speaks so loudly, that I can’t hear what you say

I had an amazing weekend .. now its been about a month since I first visited Baqa’a, with three weeks of teaching under my belt, and a schedule of 3-4 classes a weekend. I loved this weekend in particular because I really felt at home there.. I feel like I am really becoming a part of the community….with new friends jokingly dancing (“PEEL banana, PEEL banana” – from my KG class) when they see me, little 4 yr old Ban bouncing on my lap as I struggle to follow the all-arabic volunteer meeting, and other volunteers encouraging and helping me with my arabic (“julie QAWIA bil arabi… julie is STRONG in arabic”). The people and place have already become a cornerstone of who I am here in Jordan… filling my weekdays with planning and anticipaton for the weekend – an unexpected version of TGIF.

Highs, Lows, Weirdos

High: To continue on the thoughts above, I love that I am now involved enough in the community that I am learning families. I already was treated to the hospitality of Wael and Thaier’s family; they head up the weekend volunteer crew — their adorable niece, Ban, is in my ABC class — and then I meet the whole family, eating enough Palestinian msaken for 3 people. I keep “learning” families… like my high school senior student, Alanood, who studies Tawjihi with me — and has two younger brothers in my conversation class — and her youngest brother in my ABC class (“Hmm, I have a Yousef in one of my classes! Last week he spent the whole time chewing on a chair” … “Yes… must be my brother Yousef”)

Low: The center is called the “Orphan Welfare Association.”  For some reason, I thought that was just a name — a mission that they began with — but not that the children in my were orphans. In the States thats a word you don’t hear often, its almost too sad to imagine; plus my students all spoke of their families and I saw no orphanage in sight. Yet as Nisreen told me, I was mistaken… the students in my class are largely orphans – – – with orphan, by Jordanian (perhaps Arab world in general) definition, meaning a child whose father died.

At first I thought this was a sexist point of view…a narrowminded first thought on my part. As Nisreen explained, in a high poverty community like Baqaa, the mother does not have a job and is usually uneducated. The father is the source of income… if he dies, the family might still have a home or be able to move in with relatives – but they have lost their source of income and their livelihood. Life gets hard, dependent on relatives, needing children to work, struggling to make ends meet in a big family. So.. that’s what my students are dealing with – and what OWA is stepping in to help with. Makes me glad to be lending my time… but also makes me really sad.

Weirdo: Definitely how much I sing in class. (ABC – Banana Song – Head/Shoulders/Knees/Toes… more to come…) Poor children being subject to my voice!

Learning about Al Baqaa Camp

I learned a lot about Baqaa this weekend, as I ventured there to teach English classes on Friday (KG kids doing the ABCs) and Saturday (Tawjihi Review for 17/18 year olds, English Conversation for 8 to 16 year olds, and English for the Volunteer staff).

1) My students are hungry for education. The students are so well-behaved in class… I have not had a single problem so far, even within my KG class of 27 (ranging from 4 to 7) sitting in one small classroom for 2 hours.

In my Tawjihi class, its the same story. The students want to do well on their Tawjihi exam, the end of HS exam that determines your uni/career path in JO, with aspirations ranging from being a doctor to studying at UJ (the best university here). To be fair, all the students “self select” into these weekend programs – so it might not be representative of the camp at large… either way though, these kids are really bright stars in the community.

2. I’ve seen families who clearly put education as the highest priority for their children — and other families who simply cannot afford to do that.  

I had lunch with two other volunteers (Tha’ier and Wa’el) and their family. A) it was amazing but B) the best part was that the family IMMEDIATELY loved me because I was their child’s teacher. Wa’el’s niece, Ban, is 4 and in my ABC class. As we sat around, having lunch on their rug and cushions in traditional style, they had Ban sing the ABCs for me/with me/to them constantly. Then when I told them about a new dance we practiced in class with the letter B (“Bananas UNITE, Peel bananas, peel peel bananas” – if you’re familiar with the camp song…) they had Ban perform until they all learned the English and could do the hand motions with her. Not easy words either! —> Peel bananas, Cut bananas, Smush bananas, GO BANANAS! All this and she’s only 4 and this is her second language. Ma’sha’allah.

(the HUGE palestinian meal the family prepared for us — msaken. it was literally the most full i’ve ever been in the Arab world. yet, happily so!)

On the other hand, I also visited families unable to do the same. I tagged along with Nisreen as she delivered donations to families and with a Korean journalist who is donating his time to create family photos for families in the camps (he also teaches photography on Friday’s at the same center). The families we visited were extremely poor, with two of the three families headed by widows with 5 to 7 children – plus extended family (ex: divorced daughter and her kids) living with them too. In at least one case, the 13 yr old son of the family worked at the local market instead of going to school.

(note that this not my photo… I don’t feel comfortable taking photos of the camp yet. I will soon, for sharing purposes, but in the meanwhile this is a good one from another blogger. Except I’d add that there is a lot more trash on the ground usually and the streets are very narrow, which is not really clear from this photo)

It’s really sad to hear and see the struggles facing families in Al Baqaa. As much as I enjoy the time I’ve spent and the friends I’ve made there, I cannot deny that the camp is a sad place. Education offers a way out, and it hurts to think that some children either don’t have or can’t utilize education because of a lack of resources at home or at their schools.

On the other hand, its been inspirational to see motivated students and families who crave education. And it makes me feel like I really can make a difference here. English language levels are so low, and they are critical to success here in Jordan – whether on the national Tawjihi exam or university or in a future career. Maybe this is my way to give back something to the “second home” that’s already given me so much. In’sha’allah.

Al Baqa’a refugee camp

Back-tracking a bit, I want to share about my visit on Friday to a Palestinian refugee camp with my friend Nisreen (local) and Maya (fulbright).

Al Baqaa camp is the largest refugee camp in Jordan, home to over 100,000 people (Jordan, in general, has 2 million Palestinian refugees —  the most Palestinian refugees of another other state). The camp itself was created in 1968, but the residents are refugees from both the 1948 and 1967 Arab-Israeli wars.

I have worked a great deal on Palestinian refugee issues… I interned for the United Nations Relief and Works Agency for Palestinian refugees in Jordan — then I interned for the US State Department PRM bureau, which provides funds to UNRWA in order to support Palestinian refugees (in 2011, PRM provided roughly $250 million in funding to UNRWA) — then to top it all off, I wrote my capstone paper (60+ pages!) on Palestinian youth human capital. And thats leaving aside the fact that I have majority Jordanian-Palestinian friends (*friends who were born in Jordan but their family is/was from Palestine — this makes up about 60% of Jordan’s popuation) and I travelled Palestine multiple times.

 

YET my experience actually in a Palestinian refugee community is limited.. a visit here and there to an UNRWA school or health clinic – plus a drive through accompanied by Nisreen and Khalid, who worried about me walking around one by myself.

So for me, this was a big deal. and I was kteer excited/nervous/happy.

 

Our visit was to the Orphan’s Welfare Assocation (OWA) — basically a community center for all the refugee youth, not just orphans. The OWA has weekend programs for the students, enrichment activities/field trips, as well as provides extra schooling during the week. The overcrowded UNRWA schools operate on a double shift, meaning students get only a partial day of school (morning shift or afternoon shift) and no extracurriculars — therefore OWA provides classes to fill the gap and create constructive activities for the kids. Its like a Boys and Girls club from the States, with a lot more time to fill.

The kids were adorable… a huge range of ages sat in one medium size classroom, that fit them all, but not with enough room to play. Instead the program had them doing an Arabic version of Simon Says in their seats – and singing songs (all centering around “baladna” our country, Palestine). Energetic, excited, bubbly… I had a ton of fun with them.

 

After a little while, some of the volunteer staff offered to talk us on a tour of the camp. We walked around and chatted: learning about the expansion of the camp as more refugees poured in and as families grew — the transition from tents to brick to concrete homes — the ongoing commitment to a “right to return” — the difficulty of overcrowded and poorly funded schools — the ongoing committment to education. The streets were narrow and littered with trash (around one corner we saw children digging through trash). It was definitely a poor place with a feeling of desperation.

But on the flip side, as you often hear about places like this.. the people remained so nice and hospitable. The guys taking us around were young & all lived in Baq’a… they made jokes & helped us out with colloquial vocabulary… at one point we even stopped in one of the guys’ uncles’ home. And of course we were invited for soda and ma’mul (date cookies, homemade!). At a home with so little, as complete strangers, from America no less!.. we were welcomed and received with genuine warmth.

 

After our walk around, again we sat and enjoyed the company of the volunteers. At one point, the OWA director asked me about the tour… how did I find Baq’a camp? “was it miserable?”

I didn’t know how to answer..

yes? yes it was miserable to see children picking through trash and houses that lack a roof and families of 10 living in a home smaller than my apartment. I didn’t want him to think I was naive or lying… of course I saw what makes the camp miserable.

but also, no. no the people were not just miserable. The children laughed and played just like those at an afterschool program at ABRHS, Thair’s aunt explained that education was the highest prize in their community and stuffed us full of homemade dessert, and the staff sitting around us had all gone through OWA community center and now were back leading it themselves..  There is a rich life in the camp — and I didn’t want them to think I missed that.

I answered with a mention of my impressions above.. and the fact that I would never presume to know a place well enough to label it miserable or not after only a 4 hour visit. That seemed to be the right answer. And its true.. I still need a lot more time to understand Baq’a camp.

 

 

Luckily, I’ll get it. Nisreen and I are planning programs for the kids every Friday… so in’sha’allah I will get my chance at “working on Palestinian refugee issues” directly, hand in hand with the people themselves.