Help for Humanity

Pictured is Ceedra and I making faces at each other only minutes before having to say our goodbyes.

I spent my last day in Zaatri trying to convince camp officials to let me sponsor the family out of the camp, but it was no use. I needed to be a Jordanian citizen and there was no way around it. I then had a translator help me communicate with the family and explain the situation. It was a conversation with sadness on both sides. Elham, Ceedra’s mom, told the translator, “I’m sad.  Not because Jordan can’t get us out of the camp but because he’s leaving.”

When I think of Zaatri refugee camp, I instantly think of this family. The family who invites me to lunch. The family who walks me out of their tent and keeps waving to me until I’m completely out of sight. I am going to miss them.

Throughout the months getting to know this family, I often told them that they are like family to me. But before I left I expressed to them that they are not “like family,” they are ARE family.

Even though I am physically leaving the camp, my heart will never leave.

Carl and I joined forces yesterday! We got in at 3am Sunday morning. At 7am we headed to Za’atri camp together. At the camp he got to meet the faces he has come to know via this blog. Carl got a little taste of camp life as we weaved in and around 5,000 refugee tents which took us the better part of two hours.

Today Carl spoke at King’s Academy, a boarding high school which is one of the most prestigious schools here in Jordan. Carl was marvelous as always. Even though I’ve heard Carl’s presentations dozens of times, I always learn something new. It never gets old.

Right now Carl and I are working on finding a solution to help Enas and Elham survive this winter. We are thinking to help Enas (the man of the house) leave the camp first. Then once he finds work and a place to live in Jordan, he can facilitate bringing the rest of his family out of the camp.

Thanks for your continuous donations which help make this possible!

This face greeted me when I was 100 meters away from his house. Mahmoud told me “tal,” meaning he wanted me to follow him to his tent. However, this face is no stranger. He is one of Anas and Elham’s kids. They are my family in the camp.

On this trip to see Anas and Elham, I decided not to come empty-handed for the first time. I had with me a lantern, to give their tent light at night; something they were in need of after their first lantern broke last week.

I only have two more weeks here in Jordan and I goal of mine is to get Anas and Elham into a caravan (prefabricated housing unit), which will shield their family from much of the winter elements. Without a caravans their children and nieces, (whom you have meet through my pictures on this blog) are just as vulnerable as the children whom didn’t make it this past week.

Please keep these friends of ours in your thoughts as we try to get them a better housing situation.

Syrian Hospitality

The family that I have gotten to be really good friends with in the camp fixed me lunch today. A big lunch. I tried my best to refuse but I could tell they really wanted me to stay. So there I was, in Elham and Enas’s tent, eating their food. No matter how many times I said thank you or used alternative thankful phrases, I don’t think I will ever be able to show them the amount of gratitude they deserve for their amazing hospitality.

After lunch I played a hand slapping game with Enas and his son Salimen. Salimen reminds me of my brother when he was that age. This picture is of Salimen and Enas ‘getting into the game!’

The children in this family don’t have socks or boots so they are not able to leave the house without freezing. With part of the donations I have received, I am going to deliver boots and socks to the children in this family so they can feel a little bit more like they are at home.

Behind the peace sign is a bus. However, the peace sign is a bit misleading since the bus is about to embark on a trip back to Syria—which might be everything but peaceful. Nonetheless, the families onboard the bus are willing to take their chances and head back home rather than try to survive the winter in a flimsy tent inside Za’atri refugee camp. When looking at this decision, it is easy to label it as “foolish.” But, to be honest, their chances of survival in the camp might not be a whole lot better than back home. Adding to their decision I’m sure is the fact that many of the refugees are tierd of having their lives being put on pause, being separated from their families, and freezing during the night.

Here is Lilian. The eight-year-old girl who is waiting for her dad to be released by the Syrian govt. On my past visit to see her, I worked with her on her English writing (consciously avoiding conversation that could lead to talking about her missing dad). I quickly realized she is quite the honor student! When I asked her what she wants to be when she grows up, she became camera shy, but her mom comforted her and she quietly whispered to me, “Atib” (a doctor).

Now, when I think of the Syrian people displaced by this conflict, I don’t picture the UNHCR president’s interview with Brian Williams on NBC World News. I don’t think of the daunting number of refugees pouring across the border. Rather, I picture this eight-year-old girl Lilian who wants to be a doctor when she grows up. This sweet girl who hopes her dad will pick her up in his arms once again.