Thursday – June 2

“Again I saw all the oppressions that are practiced under the sun.  Look, the tears of the oppressed – with no one to comfort them.”        Ecc 4:1

I’m not quite sure how to talk about today.  I haven’t yet mentioned that on Tuesday there was a riot in the camp.  A west African started protesting in the food line, it escalated, the police started beating him badly (he’s in hospital now) and then a full scale riot broke out.  All volunteers were safely and quickly evacuated but parts of the camp were destroyed, including our clothing tent, the Samaritan’s purse unit, the tea tent and a few other places.  All the clothing was looted and is now gone.  Here on Monday we had such a lovely system to take clothing orders and fill them.  The clothes were all well organized by sizes, style and gender and now it is all gone.  Since then, people have jokingly said we have had the most successful clothing distribution ever!  A Swiss couple has been here for many weeks and have been in charge of the clothing distribution.  They are crushed.  It isn’t personal, but it’s hard not to feel that way when that has been one’s hard work.  I have worked with them and feel so badly for them.

I really hate to write this because it makes the refugees seem like hoodlums.  A very few really are, but the vast majority are people pushed to the limit.  And if you say you would never behave like this, try living like these people do.  They have fled their homes with little or nothing, after months or years of war or persecution or both.  They arrive in Turkey to camps and smugglers who charge huge amounts for their flimsy rafts, crammed with people and fitted with an outboard that usually dies or runs out of fuel.  If you do not drown, you gratefully arrive on shore only to find yourself in a camp again.  Here you have a tiny living space, 1-2 hour queues for food 3 times a day – now out in the hot sun. There is little to do all day and you are in close quarters with people groups you don’t understand or have historically not gotten along with.  Then add in the fact that the Syrians are treated as the only true refugees – leaving a war torn country – and are given preferential treatment.  The others see this as unfair and their feelings of hopelessness and frustration only increase day by forever day.  Even the Syrians are often frustrated and some tell their friends and family back in Syria not to leave.  One said, in Syria, a bomb drops and you die.  Here you die every day.  All that to say, there was a riot.

Then late last night, Afghanis attacked Pakistanis, clobbering some with sticks and stones – and yes, some bones were broken – and their large living unit and a few smaller tents were burned.   None were hurt in the fire, but these men have lost all of their papers, phones, few possessions.  And the police sat by and watched the “entertainment,” never intervening. When we arrived this morning, we didn’t know about what had happened and saw a large number of men, tucked up in blankets, sleeping and sitting along the main road, outside the camp.  We soon learned as we saw the skeleton of the burned out building and heard the story.  All of the volunteers gathered at the remains of the clothing tent, now just a covered platform, and were debriefed.  There wasn’t a great deal to do but to guard this area and prevent tents encroaching.  It will all be rebuilt.  And then to also interact and be with people.  However, we had to go about with at least 2 people, one of them being male.  I was a bit frustrated by that because I didn’t feel at all unsafe but I also didn’t want to make things harder for the staff in charge so I was a good girl, reluctantly.

The tension in the camp was palpable.  Normally we are greeted with waves, smiles, and greetings.   None of that today.  We picked up some remaining trash around the former clothing tent.  Most of it was rubbish, but I found a pair of socks and almost lost it.  Then, at lunchtime, an older woman waved to me from the queue.  I went over to her and the two other women with her.  We couldn’t speak each others language but there was this instant bond of being women and my being unbearably sad that there are there and I am not.  I started to cry and then they did but they kept reaching up to pat me and touch my face to comfort me!  Then a young girl with them told me in English, “Don’t cry.”  In the midst of all their suffering they had a thought for me!  I’m still not coping very well with that.

Midafternoon, there was a threat of the Pakistanis retaliating so we prepared to evacuate but things calmed down and we stayed.  I got to see some friends up in one of the family levels – the Afghani family from yesterday – more baby time! and a couple of my “sons” from the community center.  One came up and covered my eyes as I was sitting with the family.  It was so good to see him and then another came up too.  Hugs all around and all I could do was to tell them to be safe.  I am very worried about what will happen tonight.

A woman who is here as a crisis chaplain, debriefed us all at the end of the day.  Some scripture was read and prayer offered up.  One of the passages was Matt 5:13 – salt of the earth, so we were each given a little bit of salt to sprinkle as we left the camp.  It meant a lot to me.

So now I am back at the hotel, having a room with a bed all to myself.  I could take a quick swim, have a generous meal and a glass of wine, take a lovely warm shower, and sit at my leisure and write this.  The worst thing I have to deal with is the occasional mosquito!

I leave early Monday – back to my comfortable, safe life.  I feel guilty.  Why should I get to leave?  In the life is unfair sweepstakes, I beat the odds in an overwhelmingly generous way.  It isn’t fair – only grace – and I humanly ask why. I am forever grateful but I still ask why.  It all hurts right now – a lot.

Please pray for these people. They are your mothers and fathers, your sons and daughters, your brothers and sisters.