One Refugee Camp....Three Perspectives

“We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.”  Abraham Lincoln

Yesterday, Zo and I took our weekly road trip to Gevgelija. We had spent Saturday in Skopje, which is a 4 hour drive, round trip.  So Nattie graciously agreed to stay home with the boys (outside children aren't allowed in the refugee camp, so when they go with us, they ride for 2 hours, sit for 15 minutes, and then ride for 2 more hours!  Bless them! No complaining, at all).  This made it so that Zo and I had more time inside the camp than we have had in previous visits.

We were able to talk to several people, specifically:  a NGO employee who has worked at several different refugee camps, a young Syrian mother with a sick baby, and an older man, whose property backs up to the camp.  This post, for the most part, will be my take on their varying perspectives.


The NGO employee (sorry, the picture didn't turn out)
We have gotten to know "V" during our trips to the refugee camps.  He is a great help to us and has the added benefit (for me) that he speaks English very well.  He told us he has worked in Germany, Bosnia, Kosovo, and other places during past refugee crises.  "V" is a fountain of information and very pleasant to talk to. He works 3 days at the camp, and then is home 3 days with his wife and toddler.  He said they have asked him to spend more days at the camp, but laughed and said his wife would probably divorce him if he stayed there any longer. Yesterday, he told us that in his approximation, currently, only 1/3 of the people in the camp are Syrian refugees. He has ideas of things that need to be done - many of them quite good - and ways that "Americans" can help.  He said, if the Americans don't help, he guesses the next best thing would be the Chinese. He is worn out, but not giving up. His heart is for the refugees and making sure they are treated with respect.  Each week, when we leave, we ask him, "What do you need us to get this week?" And he gives us a list.  Life would be easier if it would stay hot or stay cold.  The "on" and "off" of the weather is making deciding on the most necessary donations a difficult task.  Yesterday, they needed short sleeved shirts.  We had all long-sleeved. Last week, they were overflowing with diaper rash cream.  This week, they were completely out.  It's difficult to plan.  But he keeps plugging along.  He's a good guy.  But he looks so tired.

The Syrian mother and her son

While we were there, one of the volunteers asked for someone who spoke English, because there was a Syrian mother, whose son was throwing up, and she wasn't following their directions for medicating him.  Zoran, "V", and I went into the tent.  Her sweet baby boy (11 mos old) was bright red, and obviously struggling. The mom looked tired, and concerned.  She showed us the water bottle that she was given at the Red Cross, which contained "medicine" inside, for her baby to drink.  (It appeared to be electrolytes, to keep him from dehydrating)  She was frustrated because she said the medicine wasn't working.  Zo asked her how long he had been throwing up. She said it had started that morning, in Greece, and that someone had given her medicine for him and it didn't help. She kept showing us that she wanted to give him a shot.  "V" told her that they could take her, and her son, to the hospital in Gevgelija, for him to get better medicine.  That really upset her.  She kept saying, "No, no. I know my baby. He will be fine. No hospital."  Poor woman.  I spoke up. I told her how beautiful he was and that I have 4 children. Anything to try and give her comfort.  "How do you do that?" she asked me.  Gosh, lady.  I smiled, but all I could think is that my life is pretty simple.  I didn't have to flee my country because it's not safe, carrying my 11 month old with me.  My life is very, very cushioned.  Still, she asked me how I do it. Pfft. I offered to look for a short-sleeved shirt for him, to help him cool off.  When I was walking off, she called behind me, "Can you please look for shoes for him? We lost his in the sea."  I found a t-shirt, but no shoes. I also found a batman tshirt for her, so that she wouldn't be covered in vomit.  She was very grateful, and kept thanking us.  By the time we left, her son was playing with the jars of baby food the Red Cross had given her.  Please pray for her and her son.  They have many miles to travel before they are done.  God knows her name.

The Macedonian man and his grapes
We found this gentleman, walking up and down the railroad tracks, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders. I must relate his story, third-hand, because Zo spoke with him entirely in Macedonian, and I only understood half.  The rest, Zo told me on our drive back home.  I'll call him Dedo, just for simplicity sake (Dedo means grandpa in Macedonian).  Dedo owns approximately 20 acres of grapes.  His property backs up to the camp. Let me rephrase that.  Dedo owns approximately 20 acres of grape vines.  All of his grapes are gone.  3 tons. Gone. His entire year's crop.  When the refugees walk through his fields, they eat his grapes.  Imagine, between 3,000 and 10,000 people, per day, walking through, grabbing a couple grapes a piece.  It didn't take long for his vines to be empty, and his crop to be gone.  He told us he tried, at first, to put the grapes in baskets and sell them at market price to the people walking by, but he was told he was not permitted to sell food to the refugees. So, he watched, as his income (of grapes), disappeared. His property line is trashed. He stands, looking at what once was, and he is discouraged. He plead his case to the people in city government. They told him that "God will repay him."  He talked to the officials in the camp about the garbage. They told him that they were only responsible for garbage inside the camp - not outside. What does one say to this man? Zo listened. He apologized, on behalf of those in leadership who wash their hands of this entire mess.  It's easy to feel pity and want to help the refugees.  But they are not the only ones who are being hurt by this "crisis."  The ripples, that turn into waves, that grow into tsunamis are reaching far and wide.  Unfortunately, the end is not yet in sight.

There are so many more stories I can tell - stories of corruption, heartache, greed, and pain.  

But today, I will thank God for the sweet baby, who was playing happily when I left. 

And for the little boy, who posed for this picture (left), with a smile on his face and chocolate in his teeth (courtesy of yours truly). 

And a mother's love for her baby (right). 

And I will pray for peace, for healing, and for safety.  

And thank God for the thorn bushes that have roses.