CAMP A, RUWAYSHED, Jordan (June 19,
2003) - Squatting under the burning sun in a tent camp erected in the
desert near the Iraqi border, Palestinian Mahmoud Sa'id Hamdan says he
has nothing left to lose. "I would rather be a refugee anywhere in
the world then return to Baghdad."
Baghdad's Palestinian refugees enjoyed
the patronage of Iraq's rulers since the first wave of 5,000 fled Israel
in 1948. The government gave those refugees and later arrivals in 1967,
1973 and 1991 subsidized housing and health care. Other refugee groups
did not receive the same benefits.
When Baghdad fell on April 9, 2003, years of simmering resentments over real and imagined inequities boiled over. Thousands of Baghdad's 40,000 Palestinians have been evicted from their homes or have suffered threats on their lives. For some, their reasons for leaving are worse.
A coalition bomb blew Hamdan's house to pieces. His twin 2-month-old sons died instantly. His 7-year-old daughter Zeina, who shares a tent with her father and three siblings, says she still hears the crackles of gunfire in her head at night. Zeina's mother is in the nearby hospital recovering from severe burns.
"We lost our country," Hamdan says, pulling from his front pocket pictures of his once complete family. "There is no stability in Iraq and no stability for us in this camp. We don't want stay in the camp but we have nowhere else to go. All my family has now is this tent."
Conditions inside this refugee camp are predictably grim, with families of four or five living in a space about the size of a minivan. The canvas shelters turn into ovens in the blazing 120-degree temperatures of midday. Dust swirls through the flaps. Brutal sand storms often knock them over. But life will continue as such in this desert refugee camp until a political solution is found, and people have a country to call home.
The approximately 1,000 people living in this camp are healthy, for the most part. CARE provides plenty of fresh food, clean drinking water and sanitation facilities. If anyone needs special medical attention, free treatment is provided at the hospital in Ruwayshed, a small town 10 miles from the camp.
"Most people, especially women and girls, suffer not from physical illnesses, but from boredom and depression," says Kinda Hattar, a CARE community services officer in Camp A.
"Women and girls traditionally live in closed communities. The camp effect is especially taxing on them. They leave their tents only to wash clothes and dishes. For them, stress and pressure is building up inside. It's important for their mental health to provide activities to occupy their free time," Hattar says.
CARE has developed activities tailor-made to draw women and girls out of the tents and help relieve their anxiety. Girls like Hamdan's daughter Zeina, for example, paint and color in the morning and look through picture books and play in the afternoon.
"These children know more than their age," says Hattar. "They want to understand the circumstances they live in. They want someone to play with and talk to freely. We work with parents and children to address their anger in a way that won't hurt anyone."
Every family living in the camp feels the aftershock of the war. Hadeel Mohamad, a 24-year-old mother of two and a former college art student, lives in the heart of the camp. She is an Iraqi married to a Palestinian. Two months ago, when she was seven months pregnant, her family was forced to move from their Baghdad home after being confronted by newly returned exiles.
Mohamad's family has been healthy, but she is not relaxed. This is her illness.
"I miss the memories of schools and streets," says Mohamad, holding her 10-day-old baby Sahar, which means 'morning light.' "All we can do is keep smiling and wait."
Because CARE's community service officers are women, it is easier for them to enter tents and gain the trust of women. After meeting with all the women in Camp A, Hattar learned that Mohamad and others enjoy poetry.
"We formed a literature group where women share their poems with other women," says Hattar. "They also use this forum to openly discuss their problems, and CARE uses it as an opportunity to address their special needs, encourage breastfeeding, distribute diapers and promote general health care for their families. We are here to listen to them and help them adapt to a level of living they are not used to."
CARE also is working with UNICEF and others to open a small library and develop handicraft and sports activities.
"The level of services is quite high because the camp was initially intended to accommodate 10,000 people," says Carsten Volz, CARE camp manager. "Most people here are Palestinians who come from an urban setting. They were from middle class families in Baghdad. For them, living in this harsh desert camp is something that needs to be learned. No one wants to be here. Everyday, people ask me how long they will be here. Everyday, we wait for a political solution. Until then, their future is unclear."