As spring arrives, tension at our camp mounts. The first refugees are coming soon and we’re pressed for time as we get the camp ready. When we start accepting refugees, Laura wants me working in the new refugee processing center. I had taken classes back in the fall on dealing with refugees, but UNHCR sends out some managers and trains everyone in the camp about issues and situations we need to know about and what to watch out for.
Some of the management from the Zaatari camp attends the sessions. They fill us in with a slide show on the latest at their camp. What impacts me the most is when one of them explains, “We design refugee camps; refugees build cities. Once there’s a critical mass of people; shops, commerce, restaurants, fashion … all the trappings of civilization begins to form in a makeshift sort of way. The aid workers then move into a magistrate role where we manage security, infrastructure, and facilitate the law. The latest hitch is that the Jordanians have become enraged that our infrastructure has created an unfair trade situation. We’re now charging the going rate for goods at our store, to meet the prices in Jordan, and to equalize the costs we’re charging merchants for power and water.”
Our processing center doesn’t open until after dark since it’s too dangerous for the refugees to move through Syria during the day. I wait with baited breath for the first refugees. Two hours after nightfall, the first van arrives. When I started college, there were teams of upperclassman who worked as greeters. They made my arrival so inviting. Channeling that experience, I put on my warmest smile, as I get ready to welcome the first refugees. Three mothers with children and a very old couple get out of the van. We sit them down and serve them tea and a light meal, while we make sure we have the correct documentation, and identify any health risks. I then pass them to Lars, who helps them with supplies before he drives them to their new homes. By three in the morning, we’ve processed over a hundred refugees.
***
In early May, my parents travel to Israel. After they visit my grandparents in Haifa, they travel to the resort town of Eilat, where we meet. Since public transportation from Azraq to Aqaba is circuitous, I hire a private car for the four-hour drive to the border. Leaving Jordan is trivial; I walk across the short “no man’s land” road. Entering Israel is anything but. I spend the next hour being grilled and searched by Israel’s border guards. They have a hard time understanding why a Jewish, American, Mizrahi would be working for the UNHCR in Jordan.
A quick cab ride drops me off at my parent’s hotel. We all meet in the lobby. For some reason the second I see them, I burst into tears. My mom takes one look at my shabby grooming and orders a full day spa treatment, which feels wonderful and shockingly over the top decadent. After living so remotely with so few things, the modern resort town of Eilat, with its wide promenade along the beach, filled with modern shops, and western restaurants feels overwhelming. Arriving back in Azraq turns into another culture shock. Only three days of modernity and our barren land, filled with little white buildings, looks so stark.
Within a few days of returning, Conner shows up. I want to know where he’s been but have learned not to ask, since he’s not going to tell me. Instead, we take off in the afternoon for a walk along the marsh.
“Stay aware and don’t leave the camp. Things are boiling with Hamas,” Conner warns.
“Hamas is in Gaza.”
“There’re a lot of Palestinians in Jordan. This is a very unstable region.”
“I was just in Israel, everything is normal.”
“There could be bombs flying overhead and the Israelis would be acting normal. You need to understand, Sisi in Egypt hates Hamas. He stopped Egypt from backing the warlords in Gaza. He’s closed all the tunnels, which has ended the smuggling. On top of that, by helping out the Islamic terrorists in Syria, Hamas pissed off Asad and the Iranians. Hamas has no friends, no money, and the people are getting angry.”
“What do you think they’ll do?”
“I think they’ll start a war with Israel.”
“How will that help them?”
“Islamic terrorists don’t give a shit about civilians. Their strategy is to put their civilians in the front lines. A few thousand Palestinians die at the hands of Israel, Hamas can now blame Israel for all their problems. They’ll get the disgruntled Palestinians behind them, and the bleeding heart Europeans will then help them out of their bind.”
“That makes no sense.”
He points to his head. “You want to fight Islamic terrorists, you need to think like them. Prosperous people have choices. A terrorist goal is the opposite of prosperity. Their goal is to control the civilians. Look at the people you are helping, fear, loss, despair, people in backup mode will do anything for stability. No one loves a vacuum more than an Islamic Terrorist.”
When Conner and I part, I find myself looking over my shoulder and reading the news like it was tea leaves. But I can’t see what Conner’s talking about.
At the camp, each refugee is given a card that they can use at the camp store to purchase food and necessary items; this gives them a sense of control, and hopefully a decent diet.
“It’s nice seeing kids behaving normally. It makes me feel good that I was part of building this camp,” I casually comment as Emma, Lars and I watch some of the refugee kids play soccer.
“Let’s just hope the promised funding comes in. If not, we’ll need to cut the aid we give each family.”
“But they’re already living on the bare minimum, families will go hungry.”
“More than that, the refugees will start looking for a better place to live.”
“Their country is a pile of rubble. Both the Americans and the Russians are dropping close to one hundred bombs a day. What could be a better place then here?”
“Europe, it’s rich and close. If they’re smart, the EU will make sure the camps are funded. If they have their head up their ass…”
“Half of Syria’s twenty two million people are on the run. Europe will be flooded with refugees. If the EU doesn’t have a plan, their citizens will get angry. It won’t end well,” Lars explains.
***
“This is it for me,” Adam pronounces a month later. “I’m shipping out in two days.”
It’s going to be lonely here without Adam. I’ve grown to enjoy his dry sense of humor and sweet nature. A number of other people responsible for setting up the camp also leave, while a new contingent of people whose skills are focused on running a camp with refugees arrive. The goal is to eventually have Syrians with the proper skills staff many of the services, including schools, children centers, sports programs and health centers.