Syrian Refugee Camp

For more than two years, refugees have been spilling out of Syria to escape the conflict there.  Millions have fled to neighboring countries like Turkey, Jordan and Lebanon, while those with means have spread out through the region.  For a country like Lebanon, their infrastructures have been challenged by the needs of camps that are really like tent cities--hundreds of families living in make-shift dwellings and dependent upon the charity of others, whether government, UN, NGO/FBO, churches, and any individual who is willing.

The plight of a refugee is really hard to imagine.  I've worked with homeless individuals and ministries in the USA throughout our lifetime, and though there are some similarities, there are unique differences.  It's really hard for any one living in a stable western nation today to imagine waking up one day and realize that if your family is going to have a chance at safety you got to move now.  Exchanging the known for the unknown, comfort for chaos.  

Refugees each faced a moment like this.  Then, they take whatever they can carry, crossing the nearest border with hope of sanctuary.  And if they are allowed to find sanctuary, they have to build a tent in a designated spot, and fill their days with waiting, longing for news, and hoping against hope to return to the rubble of a place you once called home to start over with nothing.

Your neighbors are equally desperate or worse.  Life in these makeshift communities can degenerate into the worst-case-scenario of "reality"-tv's Survivor.  There is either potential help or hurt from each neighbor and trust can become as equally scarce a commodity.  

As we pulled into the camp, we were amazed by the number
of makeshift dwellings.  The children began running
towards the trucks as soon as we turned down the road.

Imagine raising one, two, three or more children in such an environment.  The post-traumatic stress of their departure may pale in comparison to the traumatic stress of each day in the camps.

Despite this above effort, I can't even properly put into words all this must entail--the gravity of each decision, the weight of each emotion, the despair of each day that brings more heartache than hope.

One of my privileged ministry opportunities is to serve on the US Board of Directors for Heart for Lebanon, an independent, faith-based NGO, that began 7 years ago in response to serving the needs of Iraqi refugees in Lebanon and community development.  The initiatives have grown and so have the staff, preparing them with knowledge, experience and greater compassion to serve the current crisis in addition to those whom they were serving before.  Working in a limited capacity alongside such willing, compassionate, dedicated and sacrificial servants is a humbling joy.  I've seen their reports and learned of their efforts over the past year, but I had not seen their work up close.  Keli spent a week shadowing one of their former employees in January and witnessed the service and care to Iraqi refugees.  

A trip to a refugee camp

driving down the mountain into the Bekaa

In August, the Ana Terzo camp leadership team decided to partner with H4L on their annual service project.  We left the quiet and safe confines of Theopolis camp, and drove into the heart of the Bekaa Valley where many refugee camps are located in this rich agricultural area.  We went to a H4L warehouse where we loaded up a large truck with bottles of oil, shampoo, and prepacked bags of food for the distribution.  Then we loaded back up and followed the truck to the camp.

The camp group had spent some time preparing how they would serve; they divided in three groups based on how they would serve.  There was the food distribution team--the muscle--mostly young guys who could help move bags of goods.  There was the first aid team, the small group, who would assist a doctor in cleaning and applying bandages to simple wounds (more extensive and specialized care is offered by a variety of medical NGO and UN teams).  And there was a group, mostly females, willing to work with the children and keep them occupied with activities to show them some positive attention while keeping them separated from the food distribution trucks where they may get hurt or add confusion among the people lining up. 

I watched some of the children activity planning; after listening to a few of their ideas, I encouraged them to think simpler and bigger: to plan activities that they could do simply with limited materials with 50 or more kids.  They made adjustments, but were sure their plan could work.  

Welcome to the jungle  

The adults were much slower to begin moving
towards the distribution truck, which has to be parked
strategically pointing out.

When we pulled into the camp, the children started running to the bus.  Shukri, the Camp's leader, quickly directed the kids to run to the only space we had, the first floor of a large building that was being built before the camp sprung up around it.

trying to organize the swelling numbers
was difficult at best

More than 100 kids were screaming and running around the bewildered group who prepared to lead them.  There were another 50+ of older children holding younger toddlers and watching from the edges.  

The group leaders attempted to direct the kids in smaller groups--a good plan, but the kids were too crazy to direct.  They first began by separating girls from boys, which helped.  The girls were much easier to lead and were able to divide again into two groups with 2 of our young volunteers helping each group.  

two of our Egyptian youth attempt to direct the mob of
boys into two lines

while the youngest group of girls were
more cooperative, they were also more timid

The remaining 4 leaders attempted to work with the boys, which had definite "pack" or gang mentality - there were groups of boys that stuck together, bound by a loyalty to look out for one another from the other packs/gangs.  Each pack had a definite leader.  And each group violently protected or sought to take for their own.  This was a disturbing social truth that was on full display when our volunteers attempted to introduce a new, blue, playground ball to use in a game.  The game totally backfired as the groups attacked one another to have the ball--kicking, pushing, punching, and even diving off higher parts of the building to land on others--even the volunteers were being attacked.  Since the ball became a liability to positive activity, I i had to take the ball and hide it.

The boys got dispersed by angry fathers who kept having to step in to break up their fights.  But one by one, representative of the different packs kept asking the volunteers for the ball.  The camp volunteers asked me if we should leave the ball with the camp since we didn't need it--I told them "no".  This surprised some as they thought it would be generous--I corrected them that it would be dangerous: one or more of those boys would be hurt for that ball.

Songs and devotion

Since the planned activities were a bust, and we lost our play space when the angry owner chased all the children out, we moved on to trying to sing for the kids and to have an object lesson.  The girls and younger children came and listened to the volunteers sing "our God is so big" in Arabic and with motions--they learned the song and sang it too.  The older boys sat around the edges antagonizing the girls while a few of us tried to stop their rock throwing and pushing.

The object lesson was supposed to be this: have a volunteer taste an apple and then answer, "is it good and sweet?" Then, dump salt on the bit apple and invite to taste again.  Now, if they dare take a bite, the answer is it is not good or sweet.  The intent of this object lesson was to show that what God had designed and made is good, but when adding worldly things, we don't improve what He has made--in fact, we can ruin it.

This object lesson backfired--here's why...

When the apple was pulled out, it was the ball all over again--now, it was not just the boys eager to get to it, but all the children.  They all wanted a bite, pushing and trampling each other for the chance--the result was the smallest core you have ever seen as Shukri's hand was almost eaten, too.

Then, when the salt was added, the kids still were eager for a bite--and when asked if it was sweet, they all said "yes" with wide-eyes smiles while they chewed.  This second apple core, despite being covered in salty after each bite, was smaller than the first.

By the time this exercise in desperation was complete, it was time to go.  Children wanted pictures with some of the volunteers, they held hands and begged them to stay; following us to our bus, some tried to get on, even pushing me aside at one point.  

Processing the experience

One of our young Egyptians came and sat next to me on the bus.  She was having a hard time processing what was just experienced.  It's not like there's not poverty, street kids, and desperation in Egypt--but this was different.  She wanted to know why the government wasn't doing more.  We talked about this, and then her questions turned on the refugee parents--why aren't they working, why are they still living there, why...  We talked about each question as her youthful idealism was giving way to the harsh realities of a broken world. As she grew quiet, I told her I would keep talking with her any time.  She confessed later that the whole event broke her heart, led her to crying that night, and convinced her that she had to find a way to do something for those like these in her lifetime.

As I moved from her, I went to one with a different experience.  She's a pastor's daughter from the area and one of two who had any experience in the camps.  She actually goes often, serving as an interpreter for various NGO's attempting to provide services for the refugees. She was the only one who looked comfortable, not overwhelmed by the whole day.  She was hugged and greeted by name by adults and children alike.  She talked with and encouraged several like a young Mother Teresa walking through Calcutta.  It really was remarkable.  Having worked with dozens of talented and amazing young leaders, I was impressed--in fact, she may be the most amazing young leader I have ever seen.  I sat beside her on the bus and encouraged her for awhile.  I told her she was "exceptional," because she is--she doesn't go for pay, she doesn't get volunteer credits or awards.  She's just there loving and giving.

I then went to my friend, a H4L staff member on his first Ana Terzo Camp--he is the only other one to have been in the camps before, in fact he's there often.  I asked him for an assessment of how the group did.  He said, based on little understanding, on little time to prepare, they really did well.  Sometimes all you can do is all you can do--this was one of those times.

When we returned, I talked to a young leader who had gotten her teaching degree and is preparing for her first year as a Kindergarten teacher this fall.  She had taken the lead on organizing the kids volunteers.  She was looking downcast so I asked her what she was thinking?  She was upset because she didn't do we'll--I told her she did well simply by not hitting on of those boys herself.  She was upset because her plan didn't work; I told her with such things you just have to lead and give your attention to what's happening not what you had planned.  She was upset because of what she witnessed and was sad--I told her this was good, which led to a curious look back at me.  I told her that you are not supposed to see such sadness, such hurt, such loss and then walk away somehow feeling great or better; those feelings of sadness and even sickness means that she cares and that she has a fraction of the experience of God whose infinite knowledge and care mourns over each life impacted by the effects of humanity's sin.

Just one camp

This limited experience that I share here is from just one camp, on just one day, among a few families--their plight is being experienced day by day, a million times over.  While Syria's conflict has no end in sight, this is only to be exacerbated exponentially across the region.  And even when an end to the conflict comes it will take just as long or longer for all the refugees to go back and attempt to rebuild their lives.

Pray for those who can and are acting for the benefit of these needs; pray for the leaders of the nations where refugees are fleeing. Pray for peace in Syria, peace that will last and provide for religious freedom.  

#PrayforSyrians -wherever they may be