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.

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.

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

“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!

Student Depictions of Palestine

Just over a month ago, on May 15, the Arab world observed “the Nakba.” This day is a rememberance of the 1948 war, the creation of Israel, and the exodus of Palestinian refugees who fled their homes. The Nakba means “the catastrophe” in Arabic.

Around the same time, a former Fulbrighter approached me with a project for her grad program at Georgetown. She is designing a curriculum for Washington, DC students that teaches history and current events using the stories of refugees. Would Baqaa’s youth have anything to contribute?

So Marah and I designed a program. As part of the Nakba rememberance, we asked students to write or draw about Palestine — to give us a depiction or a narrative that would help American students understand Palestine better. “What does Palestine mean to you? What does being Palestinian mean to you?” we asked them; then we let them present whatever they wanted to present.

Haneen and Bayan watch as volunteer teacher Khalid makes a banner (reads “Palestine” in Arabic) – for the Nakba rememberance at the Center

I want to share these drawings and writings with you all. First of all, because the students did a really great job. The artwork is beautiful; the narratives are compelling.  I am eager to share their voices. But second of all, because I think its important and relevant to see how deeply these students love Palestine and how much they want to go back.

The students in Baqa’a camp are all refugees from Palestine – but they were born in Jordan and they are Jordanian citizens. It was their grandparents, or perhaps their parents as young children – who fled Palestine during the 1948 and 1967 wars. Yet their families have grown up in this refugee camp-turned-town, dreaming of going home.

I think I understand the Palestinian cause a lot… but even I was surprised at the depth of these writings and the sadness of these drawings. Sometimes its hard for me, like many other Americans, to understand the Palestinian’s insistence on the “right to return.” Its hard to grasp the deep connection to land — because I’ve never had a home taken from me – never had to live in a place I felt I didn’t belong – never felt I’ve been wronged with no apology or recognition.

The project made me sad a lot. The kids are so young to have these images and thoughts in their minds. But no matter how many times I told them, “irsmeelee ishy 7elu 3n filistin .. draw me something beautiful about Palestine,” students kept drawing sad pictures. Halfway through the program I had the words dababa, qatilu, and yehud (tanks, killing, Israelis) memorized.

So to start: two drawings from Haneen, an 8 year old girl.

She proudly showed me her picture, which broke my heart, then complied to my request to draw something beautiful and happy about Palestine.

“Miss, these are the Palestinians killed in their homes”

Translation: Haneen – Palestine – Jerusaleum <3 Freedom

Translation: Palestinian Flag – Palestine <3 Free

How did I just find out about this website?

http://www.panarabiaenquirer.com/

Go check it out, immediately. Its an satire news site (like the Onion) but based on the Middle East. Its actually hilarious.. here are a few headlines to give you a taste:

– Obama Promises Syria Intervention Should Assad Use Death Star

– Israel to Gift Obama Villa in West Bank Settlement

– Fresh Middle East Crisis as Guyana Declares Jerusalem its Capital

– Man Wraps Up Successful Mission to Regain the Trust of People to Which He Gives 3 Billion a Year

Right? Classic. Again I’m reminded how clever satire is – how aptly and effectively it points out the ridiculous things about our society. Needless to say, their is plenty of room for that in US/Middle East politics!

Boston, you’re my home

I hate that I’m here, far away, when tragedy strikes at home. I couldn’t believe it when I saw the news. Don’t you all worry about me? I live in the Middle East. Now I worry about you… Its not supposed to be this other way around, and I hardly even knew how to think about it. I’m so thankful I could talk to you all and al hamdulileh everyone is safe.

As we worried and refreshed online news pages, all Nadine and I kept muttering to each other was wow, the world is a terrible place. There is so much sadness and violence and war burdening this region that we are constantly reminded of. Then from home, a supposedly safe place, these random acts of destruction and terrorism occur. Again, our hearts ache.

Outside of that thought, there wasn’t much to say. Yet as almost an afterthought we reflected, god I hope it wasn’t an Arab. 

I’ve seen that sentiment tossed up on different twitter feeds and newsites, please don’t be an Arab or a Muslim, and as I hear stories like the Saudi student who was tackled fleeing the explosion or the two man escorted off the airplane after speaking in Arabic, the hope is even stronger.

The next step was to hope that the perpetrator was not a lunatic who would become the new face of a billion people. Not a murderer who would further fan the flames of Islamophobia.

 

Not an animal who would obstruct the ability of thousands of students to complete their educations in the United States. Not an extremist who would maim and hurt the very people who were still recovering from the pain of Sept. 11.

 

President Obama and Gov. Deval L. Patrick have shown great restraint in their words and have been careful not to accuse an entire people for what one madman may have done. But others might not be so kind.

– NY Times

 

Whoever did this was a monster. I don’t want to “hope” anything about them. Maybe a better way to say this, I am sad and angry. I hope whoever did this gets caught, gets punished, and gets everything that is coming to him/her for this terrible act. But I hope we don’t fall back on fear, hate, or stereotyping because of our anger and sadness.

 

To close, a more positive note. I was surprised by the outpouring of love from friends here this week. You know, when I introduce myself here, I always tell people I’m from Boston. So I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised when I got calls, messages, and texts on Tuesday from my local friends… they were checking in, seeing if kul shay tamam – making sure my family/friends are safe, expressing condolences, seeing if I needed anything or wanted to talk.

Solidarity is a beautiful thing. I guess its something that contradicts the feeling Nadine and I couldn’t shake Monday night.. the world is a terrible place.

But as Nadine later reflected, I guess all we can do is keep trying to do good by each other – and hope that we all feel for each other and can take care of each other when tragedy does strike.

“We would not be here if humanity were inherently evil. We’d have eaten ourselves alive long ago. So when you spot violence, or bigotry, or intolerance or fear or just garden-variety misogyny, hatred or ignorance, just look it in the eye and think,

The good outnumber you, and we always will.”

The Revolution is Being Televised

A powerful mini-documentary about media activists in Homs, Syria.. if you have 25 minutes to spare, definitely worth a view.

Now whenever I see films like this, I think of Nadine – who a) was the first to share this on her blog and b) always says that a video is the best way to tell a story. People respond to videos, and we are reminded of the people’s faces that are often hidden behind a larger story.

“A single death is a tragedy, a million deaths is a statistic”