Waiting for the sun

Life is never easy in a refugee camp. I have heard so many stories of people losing hope, fear and even worse, their dreams. There is no such thing as Sinterklaas or Christmas here. All they do is wait, waiting for the war to end, waiting for a future in the area where they fled from. Three years of waiting… Just compare that to our frustration when a train is five minutes late.. luckily, those displaced people invented the concept of resilience. And so a sunset like this one is still noted. Thanks to the ones pointing beauty out to me today.

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Humans of Moria

Tonight we will be reading books to the children in Moria, the camp that everyone knows from the horrible images on tv as ‘the prison’. I am with my colleague who stepped into glass while we were swimming with the woman’s group last week. She has not been able to walk nor work since then. She hobbles with her crutches and one arm in mine up the hill but she is happy anyway, she just really wants to do something for these people here and help out. Our stroll towards the family compound normally takes 5 minutes, but this time at least 15. Not only because she can’t walk fast, but mainly because we are held up by the refugees the whole time: What happened? You okay? Can we help? Shall I carry you?” Everyone is helpful and engaged. We look at each other and are surprised again over the amount of love thats hanging in this 38degrees air. The refugees spend their days in the heat, mostly staring purposeless across the barbed wire, waiting for news or a decision about their future. Most of them have been here for months without any news. The situation makes them desperate, those are stories that we hear everyday. But not today. Today everyone is doing whatever they can to help my colleague getting around.  There is even a volleybal area, just created, and there are 21 guys playing, and one woman dressed in a hijab. Girl power. We smile towards each other. Small things, big effect. When we get up the hill at our destination, we hang our bags on the barbed wire. It is weird but it starts to become normal as if we have never done anything else before. During the reading session, which is led by Afghani mothers, we both really enjoy what’s happening. The mothers read in Farsi to all the children who are sitting on a blanket on the floor, listening silently. This is what we aim for: facilitate that the refugees run their own educational and social support projects. It works a thousand times better than anything else and is much more sustainable. The women feel empowered and useful and of course, they can do this way better than we can! My colleague looks at me and smiles a smile filled with gratefulness. Sometimes it’s possible to forget the bizarre situation we are in and for a few seconds it is just really really really nice to be here.

Humans of Afghanistan

“We want to talk about colors!”, says one of the Afghan beauties. The whole group agrees. Well, let’s do that! The Afghan ‘woman’s group’ is a support group for young woman who join twice weekly and want to find support and relaxation. The goal is that they run the group themselves as much as possible. We are only there to facilitate. But tonight they have asked me to give some input. I give them a little class on ‘color psychology’ and ask them for the meaning of colors in their opinion. Our answers are quite similar. After I have explained the meaning of a few colors as simple as possible and we have written it down in both English and Farsi, I ask them which color has been most represented in their lives up until now. The answer “black” (the unknown, secrets”) is mentioned way too often in my opinion. Luckily a few of them answer “pink” (love, girly-ness) as well and explain that they feel loved by their families. So nice to hear. The next question is of which color they would to like to have more of in their lives. The answer is almost unanimous “blue” (peace and trust!) and “pink”. All of a sudden I feel really connected to them. I guess that’s why I came here in the first place – to give them a little of this because I feel like we should, can and need to do this together. I hand out a feather to each one of them in the color they wish for and ask them to hold it with both hands and close their eyes. We do a little wish-exercise in which they focus on the quality of the color and how to receive more of this in their lives. While they have closed their eyes, I look around the circle. There they are, the women full of talents and positivity, who came here with a longing for a safer life in freedom, but got stuck here at a camp where they should not have stayed for longer than 3 days in the first place.. They all are so special. I feel the tears burning behind my eyes. How much I wish I could take all of them with me back to Holland. All of a sudden my wish is more blue than ever. There is only one way to finish this exercise. Turn on the music, take off the hijabs and dance. Cause if there is one thing than unifies and relaxes, it’s music and dance. With a huge smile I say goodbye to these brave women. If they don’t get there and make it, I don’t know who will.