January 3, 2006
Get us out of here!
Stories from the Ruwayshid refugee camp in Jordan
Friends,
In September 2005, I visited the Ruwayshid refugee camp at the
invitation of the Middle East Council of Churches (MECC), which
supports churches and their mission work throughout the Arabic-speaking
world. MECC acts as the international representative of the churches
worldwide to respond to emergency needs in the Middle East. It
is in this emergency capacity that MECC asked for help from Presbyterian
Disaster Assistance in determining how they might respond in a
helpful and constructive way to the psychosocial needs of the
residents of Ruwayshid Camp.
Ruwayshid is a Jordanian village of about 5,000 people 30 kilometers
from the border with Iraq. Ruwayshid is on the highway that is
the main thoroughfare between Amman and Bagdad. This little village
is surrounded by slowly undulating desert as far as one can see
in any direction, sand radiating bright sunlight and barren of
any vegetation. A few Bedouin herders tend their flocks of sheep
around their tents. The buildings are mostly one story grey or
white cement block. Along the highway are many small tattered
garages for emergency truck and auto repairs, and shops selling
cases of bottled water, juices, candy, plastic tubs and dishes,
cigarettes, and a few simple groceries. Flat bread is also available.
Most of the stores and garages open with large rolling garage-type
doors that remain open throughout the hours of operation. Men
sit in the shade and talk, children play with pieces of string
and balls made of plastic bags wound together to make a soccer
ball. Skinny dogs wander about looking for something to eat or
just sleep nearby. Women are rarely in evidence. A few trees peek
above the rooftops behind the garages, planted and tended in someone’s
private garden. It is horribly hot. When I am there, the temperature
hovers between 95 and 105. Fortunately, we missed the heat of
the summer, when it soars to as much as 130. Ruwayshid is a poor,
sleepy town on the long road across the desert. It has benefited
from the increased traffic going to and from Iraq, bringing in
both legal and illegal business for this isolated village. However
it will take a long time for these people to rise above basic
subsistence living.
At 8:00 a.m., we walk two blocks from the “guest house”
to the office of UNHCR (United Nations High Commission on Refugrees).
They have secured permission for us to visit the camp and are
hosting us. I am working with Ann Huntwork, a retired PC(USA)
mission worker who served many years in Iran, and a young Jordanian
staff person from UNHCR. We are heckled along the way by rude
young men in cars. At the office, our welcome is warm. We are
updated about the current security situation as well as the status
of the pending cases for resettling people in another country.
Today there is no news. All of the people I will meet today are
waiting for some country to allow them to resettle. At times,
the desperation felt by those waiting develops into open anger,
and we are warned to listen to our driver and to be ready to leave
immediately if hostility develops. We agree, fill our water bottles
and head for the car.
The trip to the camp, a little more than 10 kilometers from the
village, takes less than 20 minutes. The sunlight radiates off
the road and the sand making mirages of water. I can actually
see the camp for more than a kilometer as we approach, since there
is nothing taller than a tent for as far as we can see. As we
arrive, I see a large area, perhaps 10 acres, surrounded by two
chain-link fences topped with barbed wire. There are large tents
organized along paths within these fences. Few people are in evidence.
There are guards with weapons at the first fence gate and again
at the second. Our entry is smooth since we are traveling in a
UNHCR vehicle.
We head toward what appears to be the center of the camp. People
appear from everywhere. Young children appear, young men offer
to help us, and we are led to a large tent. This is one of the
“community centers” run by CARE. The heat in the tent
is overwhelming though there is an air conditioning system of
sorts running. Over the next two days, Ann and I will survey the
residents of the camp and the staff of all organizations working
with them. We’re gathering information about the situation
and the needs of the refugees to help MECC develop a plan.
The stories we heard were heartbreaking. Person after person,
young and old, said “Get us out of here!” “We
feel like animals in a cage!” “This is a prison.”
The refugees fell into two large groups. The first group was Palestinians
who became refugees in Iraq when Israel was created in 1948. They
fled Iraq when the war broke out in 2003. The second group was
of Kurds from Iran who fought against the fundamentalist regime
in 1977 and became political refugees in Iraq. They too had to
flee Iraq in 2003. Both groups fled toward Jordan, hoping for
safety there. But Jordan, a small country of five million people,
is already housing two and a half million refugees! Therefore,
they closed their borders, saying they could accept no more people.
Now, these 900 refugees are stuck. They can’t go forward,
and they can’t return. Iraq cannot care for them anymore,
and they cannot return to their homelands. Therefore, their only
option is to hope for another country to accept them. Since 9/11,
all countries around the world have closed their doors much tighter.
For two and a half years, these people have lived behind barbed
wire in the most inhospitable environment I have ever visited.
They live in canvas tents in weather that is 130 degrees in the
summer and 20 degrees in the winter. The wind can be so violent
that it tears the tents from their stakes, since there are no
trees for more than 10 kilometers. People are not allowed to leave
the camp without police escort. To go to the hospital they are
put in handcuffs. There is no possibility of earning money inside
the barbed wire, and the food is bare minimum. Occasionally some
aid organization brings in some used clothes, but things are worn
out, and there is no money or opportunity to shop for replacements.
Children are inside the fences with their parents and grandparents.
The only schooling offered is what the parents are able to teach,
and many have never been to school. UNICEF has brought in basic
school supplies, but parents are usually only able to teach the
basics. How do you teach biology or physics in a tent? How will
these children learn to use the Web when they can’t even
read and write their own language, much less English? I can think
of no better way to create angry potentially violent young people
than to keep them warehoused in a situation like this when they
have done nothing to deserve it. Aid organizations are trying
to help by bringing in activities to keep people occupied, but
that does not solve the problem. CARE has helped with activities
for men and women, and also programs for children. However, the
bottom line is that this is no way for people to live, and it
is especially damaging for children and adolescents.
During the winter of 2006, I will return to Jordan to help MECC
struggle with what the church can do on behalf of these people.
I am reminded of Matthew 25, when Jesus talked of visiting those
in prison, feeding the hungry, and welcoming the stranger. The
only thing that we the church can really do to help here is to
use the worldwide network of the church to pressure governments
to accept these families into their countries on sheer humanitarian
grounds. We are correct to screen people coming to our country
and to be cautious of terrorism. However, in this case, I believe
that we are in greater danger of terrorism by keeping people unjustly
in these horrific conditions than we are by extending God’s
hospitality to strangers in need of help and hope.
If you or your congregation are interested in learning more about
how we might help, please contact me or Susan Ryan at Presbyterian
Disaster Assistance.
In His name,
Kathy and Joe Angi
The 2006 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p.
181 |
