Edafe Okporo is the director of the only shelter in New York City that provides housing for asylum seekers, refugees and migrants. He knows what it’s like to arrive in the U.S. with nowhere to go. Okporo left Nigeria seeking asylum after he was attacked by a mob because of his sexual orientation. With the hope of a better life, he came to the U.S., but soon realized he faced another battle. Refugees can undergo harsh treatment, having to navigate complex asylum law and face time in detention centers. Still, he persevered, and built a life for himself. Now, Okporo is helping others do the same.
A Rohingya refugee girl sells vegetables in Kutupalong refugee camp, Bangladesh. Access to education is extremely limited in the camps, and most children — particularly girls — receive little to no formal education, Aug. 28, 2018. AP Photo/Altaf Qadri
Without School, A ‘Lost Generation’ of Rohingya Refugee Children Face Uncertain Future
The boy’s eyes lit up when he talked about his dream of becoming a doctor.
Seven-year-old “Mohammad” – not his real name – is a Rohingya Muslim from Myanmar. I met him at a learning center at a refugee camp in Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh, in early July 2019.
After sharing his aspirations, Mohammed quickly remembered reality.
“I know my dreams will never come true,” he said with a faint smile.
Refugee crisis of global proportions
Mohammed is among the more than 700,000 Rohingya who have taken refuge in Bangladesh after an ethnic cleansing campaign of rape, killing and torture by the Myanmar military in mid-2017. They joined the more than 200,000 Rohingyas who had previously fled Myanmar’s brutal efforts to rid the Buddhist-majority country of this marginalized Muslim minority.
Of the newly arrived Rohingya, three-quarters are women and children, according to the United Nations.
In a noteworthy humanitarian gesture, the Bangladeshi government has given refuge to these persecuted people. Aided by Bangladeshi community organizations, various UN agencies and other international donors, the Rohingya have been receiving shelter, food, clothes and basic health care since the massive exodus in 2017.
This essential care, which cost an estimated US$920.5 million in 2019 represents a gargantuan global effort. Still, the resources are woefully inadequate.
Most Bangladeshi refugee camps are overcrowded and, as a result, unhygienic. Residents survive on the absolute bare minimum of nutrition and other necessities. Monsoon rain, cold and landslides are everyday threats for these Rohingya, as I’ve witnessed firsthand during my visits to Bangladeshi camps in 2017 and 2019.
It is a dismal existence for all. But it is the plight of the roughly 500,000 Rohingya children living in limbo that strikes me as bleakest.
Concerns of a lost generation
Research shows that future of refugee children grows more imperiled the longer they remain out of school.
In many countries that host substantial refugee populations, including Turkey, Lebanon and Uganda, the United Nation’s refugee agency and the United Nations Children’s Fund ensure children receive a quality, full-time education, either at the camps or in nearby public schools.
Even so, just 23% refugee children worldwide are enrolled in secondary school, according to the UN’s High Commission on Human Rights. Just 1% attend university.
Because Bangladeshi authorities have not granted the Rohingya official refugee status and consider them instead “forcibly displaced Myanmar nationals,” the roughly 500,000 Rohingya children in the country have no access to a formal education. Rohingya children are not permitted to attend Bangladeshi public schools.
The United Nations Children’s Fund and its partners offer Rohingya refugees aged 4 to 14 two-hour daily lessons on Burmese, English, math and life skills at about 1,600 learning centers located at the camps. These classes keep about 145,000 Rohingya children – or about 30% of the Rohingya youngsters in Bangladesh – occupied for part of the day but do not provide the kind of formal education that will allow the children to work toward a high school degree and enter the job market.
The camps offer no schooling at all for Rohingya refugee adolescents aged 15 to 18.
English-language exercise books at a UNICEF-supported ‘learning center’ at one of the Kutupalong refugee camps in Bangladesh. Rubayat Jesmin, Author provided
Some teenagers, mostly boys, have turned to madrassas, or Islamic learning centers, where they can receive a religious education.
The remaining Rohingya children who attend neither UNICEF classes nor madrassas are simply left to fill their own day. At the Rohingya camps, I saw boys working in shops, playing cards or sitting idle at all hours of the day.
When I asked Mohammad what he does when he is not in school, he told me that he “takes care of his family.”
“I play with the other kids, too,” he added with a grin.
Adolescent girls, I learned, are often kept at home by their parents because of the Rohingya’s conservative social and religious norms.
The camps can also be dangerous for girls. Human traffickers have been known to target young Rohingya women, promising them jobs outside the camps. Girls face other forms of violence and human rights abuse at Bangladesh’s camps, too, including child marriage.
Bangladeshi camps for the Rogingyas are typically overcrowded, unhygienic, muddy and prone to landslides. Rubayat Jesmin, Author provided
Rohingya repatriation
Growing up in unstable conditions, with no possibility of study, Rohingya children like Mohammed are at risk of becoming a lost generation.
Their limbo may not last forever. In response to heightened international pressure, Myanmar in November 2017 agreed to take the Rohingyas back starting November 2018.
However, their return was postponed due to protests by the refugees, who feared conditions in Myanmar was not yet safe. The United Nations and other international refugee services have also voiced concern about sending the Rohingya back, saying there was no indication that the Myanmar government had punished the people responsible for the crimes in Rahkine state, nor agreed to give the Rohingya citizenship.
Considered foreigners in both Myanmar, their native country, and Bangladesh, where they’ve sought refuge, the Rohingya Muslims are the world’s largest stateless people.
While the negotiations for their repatriation continue, a generation of traumatized Rohingya children wait for their futures to begin.
RUBAYAT JESMIN is a Doctoral Student at the College of Community and Public Affairs, Binghamton University, State University of New York.
THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON THE CONVERSATION
Migrants on a ship intercepted offshore near the Libyan town of Gohneima, east of the capital Tripoli, in July 2018. Libyan Coast Guard via AP, File
Europe’s Refugee Crisis Explains Why Border Walls Don’t Stop Migration
President Trump has long called migration a security crisis, but in recent weeks he has also referred to the situation along the southern border as a humanitarian crisis.
As he ended the government shutdown in a televised speech on Jan. 25, Trump reiterated his claim that a border wall between the United States and Mexico would save the lives of Central American migrants, many of whom are women and children.
“Walls work,” he said. “They save good people from attempting a very dangerous journey from other countries.”
As my doctoral research into Europe’s 2015-2016 refugee crisis shows, however, stricter border control doesn’t stop migration. Often, it makes it more dangerous.
Open arms or closed borders?
An estimated 1.3 million migrants entered the European Union in 2015 — more than double the year before. They were seeking asylum protection from war, conflict and extreme poverty.
To put that figure in context, just half-a-million migrants — including asylum-seekers, who typically give themselves up to border agents — were apprehended at the U.S.-Mexico border in 2018.
Most of Europe’s migrants came from Syria, Afghanistan or Iraq. Generally, these asylum-seekers entered the European Union via Turkey, crossing Macedonia, Serbia and other Balkan countries by foot.
Well over 100,000 migrants from sub-Saharan African countries reached southern Europe by sea in 2015, crossing the Mediterranean from North Africa.
Overwhelmed with these increased arrivals, national governments in Europe took dramatically different approaches to managing their borders.
Germany threw its doors open. Almost 900,000 migrants arrived there in 2015 after the country suspended an EU rule requiring that migrants apply for asylum in the first EU country they set foot in.
Migrants arriving at southern nations like Greece and Italy generally hoped to continue north to Germany.
Greece, however, was unable to process the more than 850,000 migrantswho arrived to its shores in 2015. It built holding camps on its Aegean islands, where people stayed in overcrowded, often inhospitable conditions for up to two years as their asylum claims were processed.
Other EU governments were openly hostile to refugees. Across Eastern Europe, countries along the Balkan route began to build and extend border barriers.
Europe had five border walls in 2014, built following the 1985 Schengen agreement amid concerns about immigration at the bloc’s external borders. By 2017, it had 15 barriers, according to the not-for-profit Transnational Institute, and a heavily patrolled maritime border.
Hungary, perhaps the EU’s least immigrant-friendly country, built a high-tech fence that uses thermal detection and cameras to monitor movement, with speakers that blare warnings in five languages.
Walls make migration more dangerous
Border walls have not stopped migration into Europe.
Tens of thousands of migrants still cross the Balkans to reach the EU each year – they just do so in more dangerous conditions.
Before the walls, migrants traveled in groups, with or without the help of smugglers.
Now, paying a smuggler is the only way for migrants to avoid border guards and pass barriers. For several thousand dollars, smugglers bribe EU border agents, hide migrants in trucks or walk them across EU borders under cover of darkness.
Europe’s refugee crisis has now become a housing crisis.
At least 10,000 migrants now live in homeless encampments or squatsacross Italy. And after the French refugee camp known as “The Calais Jungle” was demolished in 2016, nearly as many people scattered to makeshift camps or the streets of French cities.
Asylum-seekers may stay at refugee camps for years while their claims are processed. Reuters/Giorgos Moutafis
Stopping migrants before they arrive
Italy, where most refugees arrive by boat from North Africa, has tried to keep migrants out in a different way: It outsources its border security.
In 2017, Italy struck a deal to supply the Libyan coast guard with vessels and anti-smuggling training. The agreement promised US$325 million if Libyan agents would intercept migrants crossing the Mediterranean and return them to Libyan detention centers.
Human rights organizations have questioned the deal, citing Libya’s political unrest and documented history of migrant enslavement and torture. Returning migrants to detention centers in Libya may also violate international law, since refugees cannot be kept safe there.
In my own interviews with African migrants in Italy who’d crossed the Sahara to Libya, many told me that they eventually boarded a boat there not as a final step toward Europe, but to escape imprisonment or torture in Libya.
Libyan coast guard boats have left many migrants stranded at sea. In September 2018, when a boat carrying 100 migrants capsized, Italy and Libya blamed one other for the failed rescue.
Libya’s deterrence mission conflicts with the rescue operations of aid boats that bring migrants to Europe. Italy says rescues invite more migration, despite research disproving this claim.
Last June, 629 migrants, including 123 unaccompanied minors and seven pregnant women, were held at sea for over a week, unable to seek asylum or aid.
Malta, Spain and France have since repeatedly closed their ports to rescue vessels, refusing to bear responsibility for the migrants on board.
Lessons for the US
Irregular migration to Europe did decrease last year, primarily because fewer Syrians are fleeing their war-torn country. More migrants – nearly 700,000 people – are also being detained in Libya.
Migrant routes into the EU also continue to shift in response to closing borders. Spain, for example, has seen sea arrivals increase tenfold since 2015.
In my assessment, Trump’s crackdown along the U.S.-Mexico border will have similar results. There are signs of this already.
More migrants are now turning to smugglers to cross the US-Mexico border. Reuters/Loren Elliott
A decades-old U.S. policy of paying Mexico to secure its southern border with Guatemala to keep Central American migrants out has merely made the journey riskier, according to a 2018 United Nations report.
To avoid apprehension by Mexican border patrol, some migrants get from Guatemala to Mexico by water, on boats that are often operated by traffickers.
As in Europe, migrants now increasingly rely on smugglers to get across the U.S.-Mexico border, who may charge more than $10,000 per family.
That does not guarantee safe passage. Between August and October last year, smugglers abandoned more than 1,400 migrants, including children, in the sweltering Arizona desert. Hoping to find safety in large groups, more migrants are now traveling in caravans.
As the U.S. and the EU struggle to resolve their border crises, migrants will continue to flee their home countries seeking protection. Heightened border control certainly won’t make them safer.
ELEANOR PAYNTER is a PhD Candidate of Comparative Studies at the Ohio State University.
THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON THE CONVERSATION
Dozens of migrants disappear in Mexico as Central American caravan pushes northward
Dozens of Migrants Disappear in Mexico as Central American Caravan Pushes Northward
The Hondurans who banded together last month to travel northward to the United States, fleeing gangs, corruption and poverty, were joined by other Central Americans hoping to find safety in numbers on this perilous journey.
But group travel couldn’t save everyone.
Earlier this month, two trucks from the caravan disappeared in the state of Veracruz, Mexico. One person who escaped told officials that about “65 children and seven women were sold” by the driver to a group of armed men.
Mexican authorities are searching for the migrants, but history shows that people missing for more than 24 hours are rarely found in Mexico – alive or at all.
Mexico’s ambiguous welcome
An average of 12 people disappear each day in Mexico. Most are victims of a raging three-way war among the Mexican armed forces, organized crime and drug cartels.
The military crackdown on criminal activity has actually escalated violence in Mexico since operations began in 2006, my research and other security studies show.
Nearly 22,000 people were murdered in Mexico in the first eight months of this year, a dismal record in one of the world’s deadliest places.
Central Americans fleeing similarly rampant violence back home confront those risks and others on their journey to the United States. Doctors Without Borders found that over two-thirds of migrants surveyed in Mexico in 2014 experienced violence en route. One-third of women had been sexually abused.
Mexico’s security crisis may explain why so few caravan members want to stay there.
In response to President Donald Trump’s demands that Mexico “stop this onslaught,” Mexican President Enrique Peña Nieto announced that migrants who applied for asylum at Mexico’s southern border would be given shelter, medical attention, schooling and jobs.
About 1,700 of the estimated 5,000 caravan members took him up on the offer.
Meanwhile, everyday Mexicans are greeting the migrants as they pass through their towns, donating food, clothing, lodging and transport.
A recent poll shows that 51 percent of Mexicans support the caravan. Thirty-three percent of respondents, many of them affluent members of Mexico’s urban middle class, want the migrants to go back to Central America.
Two trucks carrying an estimated 80 migrants went missing in Mexico in early November. AP Photo/Marco Ugarte
Asylum overload
Mexican law, which allows eligible asylum seekers to both request and be granted asylum, exceeds international standards on the rights of migrants.
But reality in Mexico often falls short of the law.
The Mexican Refugee Assistance Commission is supposed to process asylum applications in 45 days. But its offices in Mexico City were damaged by last year’s earthquake, forcing the already overstretched and underfunded agency to suspend processing of open asylum claims for months.
Meanwhile, new applications for asylum in Mexico continued to pour in – a record 14,596 were filed last year. The processing backlog is now two years.
During that period of legal limbo, asylum seekers cannot work, attend school or fully access Mexico’s public health system. President-elect Andrés Manuel López Obrador, who takes office on Dec. 1, says he will offer Central American migrants temporary working visas while their claims are processed.
Anti-caravan posts on social media accuse migrants of taking Mexican jobs and violating Mexico’s sovereignty, using nativist language similar to that seen in the United States.
Mexico City, which in 2017 declared itself to be a sanctuary city, nonetheless put thousands of caravan members up in a stadium staffed by medical teams and humanitarian groups.
Militarizing the US-Mexico border
The first Central Americans from the caravan are now arriving at the U.S.-Mexico border, where they face a far less warm reception.
Calling the caravan an “invasion,” President Trump has ordered the deployment of over 5,000 troops to the border.
U.S. law prohibits the use of the armed forces to enforce domestic laws without specific congressional authorization. That means the troops can only support border agents in deterring migrants.
But Trump’s decision still has symbolic power. This is the first time in over a century that military troops have been summoned to defend the U.S.-Mexico border.
The last deployment occurred during the Mexican Revolution.
On March 9, 1916, a small band of revolutionaries led by Francisco “Pancho” Villa invaded Columbus, New Mexico.
After Mexican revolutionary Pancho Villa attacked Columbus, New Mexico, President Woodrow Wilson sent troops to the border – and into Mexican territory. United States Air Force
Officially, the group assaulted the border city in retaliation for then-President Woodrow Wilson’s support of Venustiano Carranza, Villa’s political rival. Villa also had a personal vendetta against Sam Ravel, a local man who had swindled money from him.
President Wilson responded by summoning General John J. Pershing, who assembled a force of 6,000 U.S. troops to chase Villa deep inside Mexico’s northern territory. Pershing’s “punitive expedition” returned in early 1917 after failing to capture the revolutionary leader.
No relief at the border
Central Americans who reach the militarized United States border can still apply for asylum there, despite President Trump’s recent executive order limiting where they may do so. But they face stiff odds.
The Central American caravan includes many women asylum seekers hoping to give their children a safer life in the United States. AP Photo/Rodrigo Abd
The U.S. contributed to the instability that created these hardships.
Honduras has been in turmoil since 2009, when the military overthrew leftist President Manuel Zelaya. Rather than join the United Nations and European Union in demanding Zelaya’s reinstatement, then-Secretary of State Hillary Clinton called for new elections, effectively endorsing a coup.
The country entered a prolonged political crisis. Honduras’s November 2017 presidential election was contested, with the U.S.-backed President Juan Orlando Hernández accused of rigging the vote. Seventeen opposition protesters were killed in the unrest that followed.
The Central American caravan that started in Honduras seeks in the U.S. a life free of such violence. Its steady progress toward the border shows that even kidnappings, Trump’s threats and soldiers cannot deter them.
LUIZ GOMEZ ROMERO is a Senior Lecturer in Human Rights, Constitutional Law and Legal Theory at the University of Wollongong.
THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON THE CONVERSATION
Greece’s Lifejacket Graveyard
High up in the sunburnt hills of Lesvos, Greece lies a black and orange heap of plastic. It is large, about the size of an Olympic swimming pool, but its vastness pales in comparison to the scope of the reasons why it is there—the half a million and growing masses of displaced refugees who have washed up upon the island’s shores.
Lesvos is a major port for refugees fleeing chaos in the middle east, mostly from war-torn Afghanistan and Syria. The journey across the sea can be deadly. Refugees often pay over $5000 to smugglers who will bring them across the Mediterranean to supposedly safe ports in Europe, but there is no guarantee that the smugglers have not been bribed for one reason or another, or that the journey will be successful.
The black and orange heaps rotting in the hills of Lesvos are made up of lifejackets and boats that belonged to those who made it over, but in those quiet mountains one can almost hear the whispering of the hundreds of thousands who were lost on the way. A closer look reveals children’s floaties, some painted with princess decals, some emblazoned with the message, This is not a flotation device.
Once in Lesvos, the owners of these lifejackets were carted into packed camps, where many of them have remained for years. Conditions in the Moria camp in particular have been widely maligned by human rights organizations around the world. The camp was made to hold 2,000 people and now holds over 6,000, according to official reports, though many believe that the number has exceeded 8,000. Refugees live in cramped makeshift tents that flood when it rains, and the camps are overrun by disease, mental illness stemming from severe trauma, and chaos.
Following the Arab Spring in 2011, which catalyzed revolutions across the Middle East, Syria and many other countries experienced a mass exodus, leading to the flood of people seeking asylum in Europe that has come to be known as the modern refugee crisis.
Many refugees are university-educated professionals, fleeing in hopes of finding a better life for themselves and their families. But once in Europe, they are often caught up in bureaucratic tangles that keep them stagnant in the camps for years at a time, despite the fact that many already have family members in other parts of the continent.
Thousands of volunteers have flocked to the island in order to help. Nonprofits like A Drop in the Ocean host lessons and English classes for refugees, and facilitate the safe landings of newly arrived boats. Others work to provide hygienic services, like the organization Showers for Sisters, which provides safe showers and sanitary products to women and children.
Lesvos itself still functions in part as a tourist town, though it is mostly populated by volunteers, refugees, and locals. Not far from the lifejacket graveyard is the pleasant seaside town of Molyvos, which boasts sandy beaches and restaurants serving traditional Greek fare.
Much of the island is made up of open space, populated only by olive groves and forests, open plains, and abandoned buildings. The lifejacket graveyard is located in one such empty plain, and except for scavenging seagulls and goats, the area is empty, making the presence of the rotting heaps of plastic even more unnerving.
The only other proof of human presence to be found lies on a wall of graffiti nearby a garbage dump, marked by the sentiment Shame on you, Europe.
The combination of the Greek financial crisis and rising tides of nationalism occurring at the same time as the height of the refugee crisis have caused xenophobic sentiments to allow these horrifically overcrowded camps to mar this beautiful tropical island, which once inspired the Greek poet Sappho to write her legendary love poems.
The lifejacket graveyard has been left standing partly because of island officials’ lack of motivation to clean it up, and partly as a statement, a tribute to the thousands who still wait in limbo on the island.
If you are interested in helping out, organizations mostly need financial contributions, legal aid, medical aid, translators, and publicity. It is also possible to volunteer, and opportunities and detailed information can be found at sites like greecevol.info.
Eden Arielle Gordon
Eden Arielle Gordon is a writer, musician, and avid traveler. She attends Barnard College in New York.
A camp for displaced Rohingyas in the city of Sittwe in western Myanmar. Cresa Pugh, CC BY
I visited the Rohingya camps in Myanmar and here is what I saw
Myanmar recently claimed to have repatriated its first Rohingya refugee family. But, as an official from the United Nations noted, the country is still not safe for the return of its estimated 700,000 Rohingya Muslim refugees, who fled to Bangladesh in 2017 to escape an ongoing state-sponsored military campaign and persecution from Buddhist neighbors.
Rohingya refugees holding placards, await the arrival of a U.N. Security Council team in Bangladesh, on April 29, 2018.AP Photo/A.M. Ahad
Indeed, in recent times, the Myanmar military has been building a fence along the 170-mile border and fortifying it with landmines, to prevent the Rohingya from returning to their villages.
I spent two months between June and July 2017 talking to Rohingya individuals who are still in the country living in an internally displaced person camp, about their experiences of violence, displacement and loss. My research shows the difficult conditions under which the Rohingya live in Myanmar today and why there is little hope of a safe return for the vast majority of the refugees anytime soon.
Conditions in Rohingya camps
Since 2012, more than 1 million Rohingya refugees have fled their homes in Rakhine. The vast majority that fled in 2017 sought refuge in Bangladesh, where fears of an imminent monsoon flood are currently looming. In addition, there are an estimated 3.5 million Rohingya dispersed across the globe, the majority of whom have either fled or were born into exile due to violence in their homeland.
Those who remain in Rakhine are either in their homes and are prohibited from traveling away from their villages, or dwell in temporary camps. There are roughly 120,000 Rohingya encamped in settlements, located on the outskirts of Sittwe, the capital of Rakhine, just a few miles from their former homes.
Most residents have lived in the camps since 2012, despite the fact that they were forcibly relocated by the government on a purportedly temporary basis. The camps are managed jointly by the government and military, and receive substantial assistance from international NGOs and U.N. agencies. However, there have been times when even the humanitarian organizations have been barred from delivering food rations and other goods and services by the government and military.
I received government approval to visit the camps last year. In Northern Rakhine, I was interrogated by military officials, and one officer came to my friend’s home where I was having dinner to ask for my passport and travel documentation. I was then allowed to stay.
When I visited the Rohingya camp on the outskirts of Sittwe, the fear was palpable. The only road leading to the camp was dotted with police checkpoints staffed by AK-47-wielding officers. One of my interviews was cut short because there was a rumor of a man being shot dead, while trying to escape the camp. The entire quarter was put on high alert.
I happened to be visiting the camp on Eid al-Fitr, the last day of Ramadan when Muslims break their monthlong fast. In the midst of the tension, there was joy as well. Young girls with freshly oiled hair adorned with satin bows and sequined dresses played alongside the officers with machine guns.
At the same time, there was also the trauma of not being able to freely honor and practice their faith. Residents of the camp spoke to me of the limitations on their religious expression. They explained how camp officials required them to remain in their homes from 10 p.m. onward and how it was not possible for them to gather at a mosque to participate in traditional celebrations central to the Islamic faith, even during Ramadan.
Destruction of mosques
Another sad reality for many Rohingya in Myanmar is the destruction of their religious buildings. All mosques in Rakhine have been either destroyed or shuttered after communal riots broke out between the local Buddhist population and Rohingya in 2012.
A mosque in Sittwe, Rakhine state, that was torched and damaged in the 2012 conflict. CC BY
Many of the abandoned mosques that I saw had been reduced to rubble, and many of them continued to be heavily policed. The government has also made it illegal to construct new mosques to replace those that have been destroyed or to make repairs or renovations. In addition, in 2016 state authorities announced plans to demolish dozens of other mosquesand madrasas (Muslim religious schools), based on a claim, that they had been illegally built.
In the camp, I learned that residents were allowed to build two small mud and thatch huts, which would serve as their mosques. These small structures were hardly able to accommodate the thousands who wanted to pray there. People must therefore pray separately, a move which has deeply fractured social relations within their community.
Residents reminisced about the beauty of their now demolished mosques, some refusing to even call the structure in the camp a mosque for they believed it was disrespectful to their religion. For some residents, offering prayers in this structure was not a true practice of their faith. As one young man told me, “Without being able to worship Allah, we no longer have our lives.”
Furthermore, it is only men who are allowed into this space. Women are required to pray within their shelters. During one of my interviews with a young man, I saw his wife crouching down on the dirt floor in the rear corner of their bamboo hut amid a pile of cookware. I asked what she was doing. “Praying,” he said.
Even before the 2012 military crackdown, restrictions had been placed on many of the religious obligations and rituals of the Rohingya. From my interviews I learned that for the better part of the decade, no Rohingya living in Rakhine have been able to engage in spiritual pilgrimage to Islamic holy sites in other areas of the country and globe. They have also been prohibited from inviting Muslim religious leaders to visit their mosques.
When I spoke with Rohingya individuals in the camp, they told me the deep religious significance of these practices. To many, it wasn’t just a denial of their religiosity, but of their humanity. “Our history is Rohingya, our religion is Islam, and our home is Rakhine,” said one older man, as he showed me the damp, often muddy, dirt floor where his family of eight sleep has slept every night since June 9, 2012.
Not losing faith
Over the past several years, opposition to the Rohingya has deepened. Many residents of Rakhine believe that the Rohingya are illegal immigrants from Bangladesh, referring to the fact that some of the Rohingya trace their heritage to Bengal, an area that became part of British India in the mid-18th century and from which many people migrated during the colonial period.
A mosque in one of the Rohingya camps on the outskirts of Sittwe. Cresa Pugh, CC BY
Nonetheless, despite their persecution, the individuals with whom I spoke remained unwavering in their faith. As I was departing, a young man, who had spent five years, or roughly a third of his life, in the camp, told me, “This has only made me stronger. The government has tried to destroy our religion and destroy our people, but a child never loses faith in his mother, and we can not lose our faith now.”
CRESA PUGH is a doctoral Student in Sociology & Social Policy, Harvard University.
THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON THE CONVERSATION
The Calais Jungle: The Good, the Bad, and the Playwrights
Immigration is a challenge that meets all relatively stable governments and countries offering political asylum. The issue is not solely a hot topic in the United States. In fact, Trump’s suggestion to build a wall is a concept that is being orchestrated to control immigration to the UK from the Northern part of France. This area of Northern France, called Calais, is largely undeveloped but not largely uninhabited… The region has been nicknamed the “Jungle” for its history and conditions.
The two European governments are choosing to handle immigration facilitated via a railroad system called the Eurotunnel that goes under the water passage through the construction of a 13 ft wall. The water passage has served many brave and desperate immigrants either a life or death sentence, literally. The wall will cost a lofty 23 million dollars, funded by both countries.
The Calais Jungle is known as a refugee camp that has historically amassed a number of illegal immigrants, many of which are escaping their native countries of Yemen, Syria, Sudan, Iraq and Somalia. The camp has a long history beginning in 1999 with the opening of a migrant center to facilitate those attempting to reach the UK. By the year 2002, the camp had grown to an unmanageable 2000 individuals. The camp, not fully backed by the French government could not support the steady increase of needy people, and thus, closed abruptly. However, the establishment of these people without a safe place to which they could return meant the area became an unofficial “jungle” home. The immigrants courageously and stubbornly determined to reach the UK continued to arrive to the area. The unofficial and illegal camp became a growing, makeshift society of people with ominous backgrounds seeking a singular goal- a better life in a more objectively stable country. The illegal nature of the camp meant that it was quite dirty, unorganized, and unsafe according to several volunteers. In an attempt to eradicate this development that the government refused to support, the camp was bulldozed in 2009. In spite of their efforts to eliminate the inhabitants from this region of France, the community persisted.
The camp reopened and regained a significant amount of immigrants from the years of late 2014 to the camps official closure in October of 2016. This time period of a year and a half were monumental in the immigrant crisis that existed in this space. The camp grew to a fluctuating 10,000 individuals by 2016. Violence, poverty, and a community completely unsupported had become overwhelming. That said, it was not all ugly. The community had taken on its own personality.. The refugees had developed a functioning society among themselves and volunteers began appearing to help the many downtrodden peoples.
In 2015, two particular men arrived to the camp with ideas and a hope to change the lives through the devotion of their own. The two men, Joe Murphy and Joe Robertson, of Northern England and Oxford University came under their personal concerns about the growing migrant crisis. They eventually went on to raise money to create a community theater that would function within the camp. The theater was called “Good Chance and was used by a number of refugees for an array of purposes. One man of Sudan, in between his efforts to escape to the UK, found the theater as a place to participate in a band. This young man, known as Mr. Sarrar according to the New York Times, went on to seek asylum in the UK for for 5 years with a possibly indefinite residence in the future. He, along with many others, found the theater a place to play “upbeat music” and “dance the night away.”
While the camp was well-served by this theater, and the two men who built it created a sense of positivity among the inhabitants, the immigrant situation was nevertheless worsening. In October of 2016, the French government closed the camp and attempted to relocate all willing to regions throughout the country. The rest of the population returned to their home countries or, even in spite of the poor conditions in Calais, remained illegally.
As of 2018, the “jungle” is left only to those forlorn enough to live in what is now a dilapidated camp. Volunteers are still making trips to and from the region, raising money and attempting to help those refugees in desperate need. In February of 2018, two refugee groups engaged in violent acts over food handouts that resulted in 4 left in critical condition and dozens injured. Strict actions are being taken between the English and French governments to prevent further losses and to eradicate illegal movement of refugees between borders. The camp remains a relevant topic of concern.
As far as the British playwrights of the Good Chance Project, Mr. Robertson and Mr. Murphy, they resided as volunteers and theater coordinates up until the closure of the camp. They later went on to create the play entitled The Jungle that follows their experiences across a year throughout the camp. The play is used to raise awareness about the immigrant crisis that persists while telling a story of human existence, resilience, and inquiring about the role of external volunteers. The play began showing regularly in London this year as of June 16 according to The Guardian…
ELEANOR DAINKO is an undergraduate student at the University of Virginia studying Spanish and Latin American Interdisciplinary Studies. She recently finished a semester in Spain, expanding her knowledge of opportunity and culture as it exists around the world. With her passion to change the world and be a more socially conscious person, she is an aspiring entrepreneur with the hopes of attending business school over seas after college.
Celebrating World Refugee Day
Remembering Dr. Ho Fengshan and the Jewish Immigrants to Shanghai
Two seconds isn’t much time. It’s a blink of an eye, really—but in that blink, another person became a refugee according to UNHCR. And in a world where one out of every 110 people is a refugee, you might not want to blink. Indeed, take a moment—if you haven’t already—to admire refugees and their unique experience. They epitomize strength and courage in the face of adversity. They leave for better, even when that better is increasingly closed off from them as both their countries and other countries push back. And on World Refugee Day, celebrated this past year on June 20th for the 18th time, the refugee is celebrated for their resilience that is often lost amidst the politics.
Even though World Refugee Day is relatively new, the refugee is not. Since 1950, the UNHCR has worked with refugees—from the early days working with those displaced by World War II to today’s 22.5 million. But what happened before the UNHCR? During World War II the refugee crisis was largely dealt with by countries directly. However these efforts were mostly unsuccessful: the Evian conference failed to find a solution for what was then termed the “Jewish Refugee Problem.” Out of the 32 countries that convened in July 1938, only the Dominican Republic was willing to take in 100,000 refugees. Leaving thus required the kindness of others, especially that of diplomats.
One such diplomat was Dr. Ho Fengshan, who was the consul general of the Chinese Consulate in Vienna, Austria from 1938-1940. He helped issue thousands of “lifesaving visas” against his superior’s orders to help Jews migrate to Shanghai, which was then an open port city with no immigration controls. Some used the Shanghai visa to obtain a transit visa to other destinations. One professor estimates Dr. Ho Fengshan helped save over 5,000. His efforts earned him the posthumous title “Righteous Among the Nations,” a civil honor bestowed by Israel, and the nickname the “Chinese Schindler.”
And in Shanghai the impact of Dr. Ho Fengshan’s action can still be seen at the Jewish Refugee Museum housed in the former Ohel Moshe Synagogue in the Hongkou neighborhood. A memorial spans a back wall with the names of the some 18,000 who found refuge there. Interspersed amongst the Goldsteins, Roths, and Schwartzs are quotes that speak to the refugee experience. Rena Krasno referenced tough beginnings, “the refugees found it very hard to adjust to local conditions,” while Nina Admoni looked on her time as a refugee as an “emotional experience.” Most remarkable is the absence of prejudice on the walls—rather it is a sense of camaraderie seemed to have formed between the Chinese and Jews in Hongkou. A kinship that later became founded on a shared pain from the Japanese occupation.
The start of the memorial wall at the Jewish Refugee Museum (62 Changyang Road Shanghai, China)
Looking back at the Jewish refugees in Shanghai provides a glimpse of refugees today: a mix of personal perseverance and external kindness. For many of the Jews in Shanghai, Dr. Ho Fengshan was a boost to their internal determination and shows the power of a small act of kindness. And as we celebrate the courage of refugees this week, we must ask ourselves how we can lend a helping hand. Maybe it is something small, like being a welcoming neighbor to resettled refugees, or something as big as volunteering with the International Rescue Committee. Whatever it may be, focus on the individual and their story.
TERESA NOWALK is a student at the University of Virginia studying anthropology and history. In her free time she loves traveling, volunteering in the Charlottesville community, and listening to other people’s stories. She does not know where her studies will take her, but is certain writing will be a part of whatever the future has in store.
A scene from Zaatari refugee camp, Jordan. Brian Tomaszewski
I Teach Refugees to Map their World
I first visited the Zaatari refugee camp in early 2015. Located in northern Jordan, the camp is home to more than 80,000 Syrian refugees. I was there as part of a research study on refugee camp wireless and information infrastructure.
It’s one thing to read about refugees in the news. It’s a whole different thing to actually go visit a camp. I saw people living in metal caravans, mixed with tents and other materials to create a sense of home. Many used improvised electrical systems to keep the power going. People are rebuilding their lives to create a better future for their families and themselves, just like any of us would if faced with a similar situation.
As a geographer, I was quickly struck by how geographically complex Zaatari camp was. The camp management staff faced serious spatial challenges. By “spatial challenges,” I mean issues that any small city might face, such as keeping track of the electrical grid; understanding where people live within the camp; and locating other important resources, such as schools, mosques and health centers. Officials at Zaatari had some maps of the camp, but they struggled to keep up with its ever-changing nature.
An experiment I launched there led to up-to-date maps of the camp and, I hope, valuable training for some of its residents.
The power of maps
Like many other refugee camps, Zaatari developed quickly in response to a humanitarian emergency. In rapid onset emergencies, mapping often isn’t as high of a priority as basic necessities like food, water and shelter.
However, my research shows that maps can be an invaluable tool in a natural disaster or humanitarian crisis. Modern digital mapping tools have been essential for locating resources and making decisions in a number of crises, from the 2010 earthquake in Haiti to the refugee influx in Rwanda.
This got me thinking that the refugees themselves could be the best people to map Zaatari. They have intimate knowledge of the camp’s layout, understand where important resources are located and benefit most from camp maps.
With these ideas in mind, my lab teamed up with the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees and Al-Balqa and Princess Sumaya universities in Jordan.
Modern maps are often made with a technology known as Geographic Information Systems, or GIS. Using funding from the UNHCR Innovation Fund, we acquired the computer hardware to create a GIS lab. From corporate partner Esri, we were obtained low-cost, professional GIS software.
RefuGIS team member Yusuf Hamad and his son Abdullah – who was born in Zaatari refugee camp – learning about GIS. Brian Tomaszewski, CC BY
Over a period of about 18 months, we trained 10 Syrian refugees. Students in the RefuGIS class ranged in age from 17 to 60. Their backgrounds from when they lived in Syria ranged from being a math teacher to a tour operator to a civil engineer. I was extremely fortunate that one of my students, Yusuf Hamad, spoke fluent English and was able translate my instructions into Arabic for the other students.
We taught concepts such as coordinate systems, map projections, map design and geographic visualization; we also taught how to collect spatial data in the field using GPS. The class then used this knowledge to map places of interest in the camp, such as the locations of schools, mosques and shops.
The class also learned how to map data using mobile phones. The data has been used to update camp reference maps and to support a wide range of camp activities.
I made a particular point to ensure the class could learn how to do these tasks on their own. This was important: No matter how well-intentioned a technological intervention is, it will often fall apart if the displaced community relies completely on outside people to make it work.
As a teacher, this class was my most satisfying educational experience. This was perhaps my finest group of GIS students across all the types of students I have taught over my 15 years of teaching. Within a relatively short amount of time, they were able to create professional maps that now serve camp management staff and refugees themselves.
A map created with geographic information collected by students in the RefuGIS program. UNHCR, CC BY
Jobs for refugees
My experiences training refugees and humanitarian professionals in Jordan and Rwandahave made me reflect upon the broader possibilities that GIS can bring to the over 65 million refugees in the world today.
It’s challenging for refugees to develop livelihoods at a camp. Many struggle to find employment after leaving.
GIS could help refugees create a better future for themselves and their future homes. If people return to their home countries, maps – essential to activities like construction and transportation – can aid the rebuilding process. If they adopt a new home country, they may find they have marketable skills. The worldwide geospatial industry is worth an estimated US$400 billion and geospatial jobs are expected to grow over the coming years.
Our team is currently helping some of the refugees get GIS industry certifications. This can further expand their career opportunities when they leave the camp and begin to rebuild their lives.
Technology training interventions for refugees often focus on things like computer programming, web development and other traditional IT skills. However, I would argue that GIS should be given equal importance. It offers a rich and interactive way to learn about people, places and spatial skills – things that I think the world in general needs more of. Refugees could help lead the way.
BRIAN TOMASZEWSKI is an Associate Professor of Information Sciences and Technologies at Rochester Institute of Technology.
THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON THE CONVERSATION
A Refugee-Run Restaurant in Lisbon's Mercardo de Arroios
Mezze: Rebuilding, with Food
In a market as diverse as Lisbon’s Mercado de Arroios, where people from all over the world shop, Mezze doesn’t seem out of the ordinary. But the small restaurant deserves a closer look: it’s not only one of Lisbon’s few Middle Eastern restaurants, but, more importantly, its staff is almost entirely made up of recently arrived Syrian refugees. For them Mezze represents both a link back to the country they left behind and a crucial aid for putting down roots in their new home.
The idea behind Mezze is one that’s being tried out in other countries. Refugees, particularly those fleeing the war in Syria, are given the chance to earn a living and get established by sharing their culinary heritage, either by opening or working at a restaurant or catering business. The benefit is not just for the refugees, who are able to earn some money while at the same time preserving a taste of home, but also for their new communities, who can support those displaced by war and gain insight into their cultural heritage through the universal language of food.
Mezze’s start, though, was motivated by something simpler – the desire for bread. Alaa Alhariri, a 24-year-old Syrian woman who came to Portugal to study architecture in 2014 after a brief time spent studying in Egypt and Istanbul, was missing the flatbread she used to buy back home. “Bread is the beginning of everything, it exists in every culture,” she says. “In the Middle East it means family, it means sharing. Syrians open bakeries as soon as they arrive in Turkey and in other countries as well.”
Alaa is one of the four founders of the non-profit Pão a Pão, which means “Bread by Bread,” a name inspired by the Portuguese saying “Grão a Grão” (“Grain by Grain,” which has a similar meaning to “step by step”). The organization was the brainchild of Alaa and Francisca Gorjão Henriques, another cofounder and Pão a Pão’s current president. Francisca and Alaa met by chance – Alaa was living with Francisca’s aunt. Pão a Pão was originally created with the intention of opening a bakery.
“Refugees [from Syria] started to arrive in Portugal in 2015 under the European Union program to relocate them,” explains Alaa, whose eyes shine with enthusiasm when talking about the project (while she’s heavily involved in behind-the-scenes work, she doesn’t work at the restaurant). “They only receive state assistance for two years, after which the funds stop.” The aim of Pão a Pão is to help young people and women, in particular, integrate into the work force. “Some of these women have never worked before,” says Alaa. “They’ve been housewives all their lives.”
But the team at Pão a Pão began to think bigger; the bakery plan was scrapped and their new aim was to open a restaurant. They organized a series of successful test dinners in December 2016, which took place in an old covered market that had been converted into an events space. Buoyed by the positive response, Pão a Pão felt confident in taking the plunge. They were able to crowdfund just over 23,000 euros (around $30,000) – almost 10,000 euros more than the initial goal – over the course of 2017, with the restaurant finally opening its doors in September, serving such classic Syrian dishes as moussaka, kibbeh (fried balls made of bulgur, minced meat and walnuts), kabseh (rice with vegetables and chicken) and baba ganoush.
“The people working here feel like they’re doing something useful. So the more people we can help feel this way, the better.”
“People’s reactions have been amazing, it is better than we could expect, we’re always busy,” says Francisca, who recently left her job as a journalist at the Público newspaper to concentrate on her work with the organization. “We have improved a lot since our first test dinners, especially considering that 90 percent of the team had no prior experience.”
Mezze has also been extremely well received by the Mercado de Arroios’s neighboring shops and stalls, which supply the restaurant with its ingredients. Everything Mezze cooks with comes from the market except the meat, which is sourced from a halal butcher in Almada, south of Lisbon.
Perhaps more significantly, the refugees employed by Mezze take pride in their work. Serena, a 24-year-old from Palestine who has been living in Lisbon for one year now, loves the atmosphere at the restaurant. But, more importantly for her, she values the chance to show that refugees are the same as everyone else: “We work hard, we love life and want to be part of society as much as anyone.”
While we talk, she welcomes people to the restaurant and explains the menu. “The Portuguese ask a lot of questions because they don’t know these dishes but everyone loves the food,” she says. Although she finds the language difficult, she considers Portugal to be her home now. “It’s my home, where I find myself,” she explains. “It still has traditional a family structure, family bonds, and at the same time, more freedom of movement and speech.”
Rafat Dabah, 21 years old, has been in Portugal for just under two years, after being relocated with his family from Egypt, where they first moved after leaving Syria. “My father had a restaurant in Syria and in the school holidays I would work there with him,” he tells us. “Here in Portugal I worked in a kebab place in a shopping center.” This experience seems to have served him well. He began working as a waiter at Mezze, but is now the restaurant’s manager – he eagerly explains the improvements they have made at the restaurant and the positive feedback they’ve received from diners.
Originally from Damascus, he lives in Lisbon with his younger brother and his mother, who also works at Mezze. His older brother, 24, lives in Turkey. His father died in the war. Living in Loures, a suburb north of Lisbon, Rafat can’t image going back home to Damascus anytime soon. “It’s tough there. Sadly things are still dangerous.”
As for life in Portugal, he doesn’t feel quite at home yet, although it’s getting better. He tells us how he’s enjoying learning so much, including the Portuguese language. “To integrate you need to learn the language, I’ve learned a lot and I’m practicing more now,” he says. “Once I could communicate, life became much easier.”
This isn’t the first time refugees have made Portugal their home. Because of its neutrality during the Second World War, the country saw a large influx of exiles from other European countries as well as North Africa. Likewise, hundreds of thousands fled to Lisbon after the independence of Angola and Mozambique in 1975. More recently, 1,659 refugees took shelter in the country as a result of the Balkan wars in the early 1990s.
In the last two years, 1,507 refugees (mostly Syrians but also some from Iraq and Eritrea) were relocated to Portugal from Greece and Italy, according to the Portuguese Council for Refugees. The Portuguese Government announced recently that they would receive 1,000 more currently residing in Turkey (again, mostly Syrians but also some from other Middle Eastern countries). Although small in number compared to the massive number of refugees being sheltered in the countries bordering Syria, they are being welcomed warmly. The extraordinary success of Mezze speaks to that.
The support of the Portuguese people has been fundamental to the realization of this project, which leads us to wonder if this openness would have been possible, say, even 20 years ago. “Maybe 20 years ago, without social media amplifying this disaster at the gates of Europe, this wouldn’t be possible,” admits Francisca. “At the same time, today’s Lisbon is much more cosmopolitan than it was 20 years ago. Diversity is now a prime feature in some parts of the city, like in the Arroios neighborhood.”
The ongoing support of Lisboetas, many of whom felt a wave of solidarity with the refugees after Europe initially bungled the refugee crisis, has inspired Alaa and her colleagues to think bigger. “We’re thinking of opening another location. The Portuguese love to eat and we’re lucky that they love our food,” says Alaa.
Francisca confirms the plans to open another place. “We’ve developed this project with the hope of replicating it in Lisbon and other cities in the country. We’re still starting out and we want to improve, but we think we might be able to open in other locations in a year. We also hope to expand our current Mezze to include a take-away and catering service.” They also have plans for debates and workshops, with Pão a Pão hosting a conference on integration at Mezze on Friday, January 26.
According to Alaa, the people working at the restaurant “feel happy, they feel like they’re doing something useful. So the more people we can help feel this way, the better.”
This article originally appeared in Culinary Backstreets, which covers the neighborhood food scene and offers small group culinary walks in a dozen cities around the world.
AUTHOR
CÉLIA PEDROSO
Célia, CB’s Lisbon bureau chief, is a freelance journalist, writing mostly about travel and food, and is the co-author of the book "Eat Portugal", winner of a Gourmand World Cookbook Award. Her work can be seen in such publications as The Guardian, Eater, and DestinAsian. In 2014 she started leading food tours in Lisbon through Eat Portugal Food Tours and now does the same with CB. She wrote the Portuguese entries for the book "1001 Restaurants you Must Experience Before you Die" and keeps searching for the best pastéis de nata so you don't have to.
PHOTOGRAPHER
RODRIGO CABRITA
Photographer Rodrigo Cabrita was born in Oeiras, Portugal in 1977. He started his career at the daily newspaper Diário de Notícias in 2001 and has worked at a variety of publications since then. He is now a freelance photographer and takes part regularly in exhibitions. Rodrigo has won several photojournalism awards, most notably the Portuguese Gazeta award. You can see more of his work at his website and his Instagram page.
REFUGE: Human Stories From the Refugee Crisis
A small team of filmmakers set out for Greece, documenting human stories from the frontlines of the European Refugee Crisis, focused on humanity and hope. The world was changing and they found themselves at a crossroads in history, so they set out to help in the way that they knew best - with the telling, and sharing, of stories. RefugeProject.co
Refugees taking shelter in Southern Bangladesh
Contextualizing Refugees
On 22 May the Rohingya Muslims made the news not for their refugee situation, but for massacring Hindus. The militants responsible are members of the group Arakan Rohingya Salvation Army, also known as Arsa. The news was part of an Amnesty International report on an investigation into the 25 August 2017 attack on the Hindu village, Ah Nauk Kha Maung Seik in Maungdaw (Rakhine state), Myanmar. About 53 villagers were killed. Their proximity to another village, Ye Bauk Kyar, where about 46 were killed around the same time suggests Arsa may have also been responsible. Arsa has denied responsibility for both attacks. Still, it is the survivors of the attack who matter most. Around 500 of the Hindu villagers fled to Bangladesh from Maungdaw where they found assistance from local Hindus. These refugees are just a small part of a global refugee crisis.
The UN defines refugees as people fleeing persecution, war, or violence; often because of religion, ethnicity, or race. Refugees cross international borders, requiring international status as their home country can no longer protect them. As of June 2017, there are 22.5 million refugees around the world. This number includes those in a refugee-like state as well as Palestinian refugees registered by UNRWA. Still the number should be viewed as the best estimate of the world’s refugees as it is difficult to determine refugees living outside of camps; varied opinions exist on who is a refugee; and the variation in granting of refugee status across countries, among other potential discrepancies.
A refugee will spend 26 years on average away from home according to Ai Weiwei’s Human Flow, a 2017 documentary about the global refugee crisis. During those years away, some may seek resettlement in another country. On average, of officially registered refugees, roughly about 1% are resettled or 189,300 (UNHCR 2016). Currently the UN works with 130 countries, many of which work directly with the UNHCR to resettle refugees. The goal for resettlement is integration through self-sufficiency in their new communities. Organizations in host countries work directly with the refugees, such as the International Rescue Committee (IRC) in the United States. The IRC provides various support services—including legal aid, medical aid, English lessons, and family services—that are reflective of general integration assistance found in all host countries.
As a refugee stated in Human Flow, “no one leaves their country lightly.” Going back to the Hindu survivors, we can see the force that often drives a refugee from their home. A few have even returned to Myanmar as part of the controversial repatriation plan between Bangladesh and Myanmar. Those few Hindus represent one journey a refugee might make. And as of the 2016 UNHCR Statistical Yearbook, 552,230 refugees have been able to return home safely. Indeed, the hope of returning home is why most refugees stay close to their home countries. And it is why most refugees do not go to the West for resettlement: the top three host countries according to a 2016 UNHCR report were Turkey, Pakistan, and Lebanon.
Refugees living in Kutupalong Refugee Camp in Cox's Bazar, Bangladesh
However, the attacks interconnected with wider events as the August massacres were part of deliberate attacks on police posts, which some Rohingya supported and others did not. These spurred reprisal attacks by the Myanmar military and local Buddhist mobs. The attacks displaced many Rohingya; 700,000 have crossed into Bangladesh since August 2017. As various refugee experiences suggest the Rohingya may be in Bangladesh for a few years, decades, or the rest of their life. Only time will tell—and it is that story of waiting that captures the most common theme of a refugee’s experience. The Hindus and Rohingya illustrate how the global refugee crisis has weaved together many individual refugee experiences, connecting one another at different points, together into a “singular” experience. But looking at the individual seams, it is much more complex.
Rakhine (Arakan) State in Myanmar
Teresa Nowalk
Teresa is a student at the University of Virginia studying anthropology and history. In her free time she loves traveling, volunteering in the Charlottesville community, and listening to other people’s stories. She does not know where her studies will take her, but is certain writing will be a part of whatever the future has in store.
Protestors against travel ban.
Protesting the Travel Ban at LAX: Attorney Julia Trankiem Shares Her Volunteer Experience
On January 29, 2017, in response to Executive Order 13769—nicknamed the “travel ban”— which suspended refugee arrivals and banned entry into the U.S. for 7 predominantly Muslim countries, and likely spurred by the previous day’s demonstrations at JFK airport, hundreds of protesters descended on LAX condemning the Order.
That Sunday morning, chants like, “No Hate, No Fear. Immigrants Are Welcome Here,” rang out throughout the airport. There was marching, there were signs, there was singing, there were cries. Religious adherents, military veterans, descendants of immigrants, translators, lawyers, and politicians were present, demonstrating and lending support and services.
One of the attorneys lending her services was Julia Trankiem. The daughter of Vietnamese immigrants, and an alumna of University of Michigan Law School, Julia practices litigation and employment law in Los Angeles. Friday evening, word of the travel ban reached her. Saturday, she spent time learning more about the ban and reaching out to her contact at the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU). By Sunday morning, she was driving towards LAX while listening to the news in tears. “I felt compelled,” she said, “I didn’t have a choice to just sit back.”
She headed to the short term parking lot, where she boarded a bus filled with protestors. After she arrived at the outside terminals, Trankiem saw a sign that read, “Hi, I’m an attorney.” The man behind the sign directed her towards The Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf inside. Once she made it, she found too many attorneys and not enough work. Undeterred, she eventually made her way to the baggage claim area, where she was able to begin volunteering.
Trankiem spent much of her day as an intake coordinator. Since there were no direct flights from the banned countries, she looked up flights to guess where else travelers might be flying in from—layover cities like London, Dubai, and Frankfurt. Afterwards, she helped send other attorneys to the corresponding terminal to meet with travelers to see if they or their family members or loved ones were subject to the Executive Order.
Detention times varied for flagged travellers, but some were detained longer than 6 hours, Julia says. There were rumors of immigration officials asking people to sign over their visas and conflicting stories of provisions, like food and water, having to be requested for detainees. There was confusion, and chaos, and disorganization, Julia says. There were also counter protesters with a different message. Julia heard accounts from attorneys that some people were told to, “Go back to where you came from.” The Los Angeles Times reported that there were about a dozen protesters in support of the travel ban.
The overwhelming majority of protesters at LAX, however, were against the ban, and in support of immigrants and refugees. Julia describes a sea of demonstrators on the parking bridge, in the lot, and in baggage claim-- some of whom applauded when international travellers de-planed and picked up their luggage. Many also held signs with compassionate messages like, “Welcome To This Country.” She says there was a “vibrant energy” that was “unifying” on that Sunday at LAX. She and others shared the “common goal of trying to make a difference and stand up for America’s core values.” Julia shares that she was thanked for her efforts, but left feeling thankful she was able to be of some assistance. She says that America blessed her family by allowing them into the U.S. after they fled the Vietnam War, and her volunteering was a small way to help repay the debt she feels she owes America.
Between January 27, 2017and January 31, 2017, an estimated 60,000 visas were revoked. By January 31st, nearly 50 lawsuits had been filed contesting the constitutionality of Executive Order 13769. On February 3, 2017, just 5 days after the LAX protest, a temporary restraining order (State of Washington v. Trump) was placed on the Executive Order. That restraining order was challenged and later upheld by United States Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit on February 9, 2017. The litigation is ongoing.
ALEXANDREA THORNTON
Alexandrea Thornton is a journalist and producer living in NY. A graduate of UC Berkeley and Columbia University, she splits her time between California and New York. She's an avid reader and is penning her first non-fiction book.
Pictures of Afghan children at a school run by a local mosque for Afghan orphans & refugees in Shiraz, Iran. Photo by Simon Monk (CC BY-NC-ND 2.0).
IRAN: A Commitment to Provide Universal Public Healthcare to Refugees
In an announcement from the United Nation mission in Iran, the Iranian government will include all of its registered refugees into its Salamat Insurance Scheme. This is a collaboration between the Ministry of Interior, responsible for immigrant affairs, the Iranian Health Insurance Organization and the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR). This plan is targeted at Iran's Afghan and Iraqi refugee population.
Iran's English daily Tehran Times, part of the Mehr News Agency owned by the Islamic Ideology Dissemination Organisation, described the “gratitude” of Sivanka Dhanapala, the UNHCR Representative in Iran, for the program:
“UNHCR’s Representative in Iran acknowledged the Iranian Government’s contribution, expressed UNHCR’s gratitude towards the Government of the Islamic Republic of Iran for all the services it has rendered to the largest protracted urban refugee population in the world for over three decades, and inclusion of the refugees in this Universal Insurance Scheme which is exemplary not only regionally but also globally, and added that such a services haven’t been provided before and I sincerely hope other countries will follow this example.
”
Half of the coverage for the program will come from the Iranian government, while the UNHCR will contribute with US $8.3 million. The program will be available to all registered refugees, who will receive access to a health insurance package for “hospitalization and temporary hospitalization”, as available to Iranian nationals.
According to the UNHCR website, Iran is home to one of “the world's largest and most protracted refugee populations.” Iran's Afghan refugee population nears 1 million, with an additional estimated 1.4 to 2 million unregistered refugees living and working in the country.
Iran's treatment of this demographic has been subject to past criticism, however, most notable in the 2013 Human Rights Watch report that detailed the mistreatment and sometimes abuse Afghans faced from both Iranian society and the government.
For their 2015 projection, the UNHCR detailed their expectations for Iran's intake for mostly Afghan, Iraqi and Pakistani refugees as outlined in the image below.
Iran has been criticized for not taking in any Syrian refugees throughout the civil war there. This reproach comes amidst the fact that it is heavily involved in the Syrian conflict as an ally and supporter of the Syrian President Bashar Al-Assad.
Indeed, this development in instating universal public healthcare for refugee populations is a notable milestone for both Iran and the region. Iran can, however, still improve its image in bolstering its role in alleviating the neighbouring Syrian refugee crisis.
ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON GLOBALVOICES
Mahsa Alimardani
Mahsa Alimardani is an Iranian-Canadian Internet researcher. Her focus in on the intersection of technology and human rights, especially as it pertains to freedom of expression and access to information inside Iran. She holds an Honours Bachelor in Political Science from the University of Toronto and is completing her Masters degree in New Media and Digital Culture at the University of Amsterdam.
In Ireland, people gather the stand in solidarity with refugees around the world. Photo: Steve Kingston
When Myths Go Viral: Reclaiming Humanity Online to Make #RefugeesWelcome
Myths and facts about the Syrian refugee crisis—and why your support matters.
My job at Oxfam usually keeps me in the behind the scenes, creating webpages, scheduling tweets, analyzing data from our website, etc.
The best part about it is that I get to hear from our supporters, our blog readers (hey you!), our Twitter followers, and everyone else we engage with online every day. In times of humanitarian crises, which seem never-ending lately, we hear from people a lot. The Syrian refugee crisis seems to have galvanized people online in a way I’ve never seen before. This can be incredibly inspiring, but it also comes with sadness and discouragement. We’ve all seen the heartbreaking viral photo of a little boy, washed up dead on the beach in Turkey, but there’s a lot of other viral content out there too – some much less sympathetic, sometimes downright hateful. To make matters worse, there’s a lot of misinformation going around.
That’s why I’m stepping out from behind the scenes today. I want to address some most common misconceptions I’ve seen on social media. Because in order for people to make a difference and take action, we first need to equip ourselves with the facts.
Myths gone viral
Noura, 24, from Homs province in Syria with her 7-month old son Ziad. They are living with her family in the informal refugee settlement of Barsa. Photo: Sam Tarling / Oxfam
Myth #1: We have enough homeless people, orphaned children, and underserved veterans in our own country and should focus our resources on them.
Okay, so this isn’t really a myth, because it is absolutely true that there are many people in our own cities living in poverty who need help. However, compassion is not zero-sum – there is enough to go around. It’s important to help people in our communities, or donate to local charities, but that shouldn’t stop us from looking past our own borders. This is a global crisis, and we shouldn’t turn our backs on anyone because of where they were born.
Myth #2: A majority of refugees are young men who pose a terrorist threat if we let them into our country.
We are constantly hearing stories about extremist groups and terrorist attacks in the news, and this threat is nothing to take lightly. However, most Syrian refugees are fleeing these exact same violent groups. They want to live somewhere safe and peaceful as much as you or I do. Not to mention that almost half of the 12 million Syrians who need humanitarian assistance are children – that’s almost an entire generation of Syrians growing up without a safe childhood.
Myth #3: Refugees have smartphones so they must have enough money to take care of themselves.
Before the war, Syria was considered a “lower middle income” country. The violence has affected people from all types of economic backgrounds. Some people had more savings than others to tide them over, but it’s been over four years, and those savings have run dry. The fact is, a cell phone does not make anyone any less of a refugee or any less deserving of help. If you had to flee your home right now, your cell phone might be the first thing you grab.
So, what can we do about it?
Reema (Not her real name), 12, sits inside the partially constructed building that is serving as home to her family in Qalamoun, near Tripoli in northern Lebanon. Photo: Sam Tarling / Oxfam
What can we do to help in a situation that can feel so hopeless? Well, you’ve already taken the first step and learned more about the situation. I recommend this video if you want more.
Second, you can show the people of Syria that you support them and share the message with your friends. Share a story, a tweet, or photo, like this one, with the hashtag #RefugeesWelcome. Your support matters, even across the world.
Third, make your voice heard to the U.S. government. Tell them that we need to do more for refugees and commit to welcoming at least 100,000 through resettlement in the coming year. Send a letter to the President, Secretary of State, and Secretary of Homeland Security. All you have to do is add your name!
And to everyone who has shown their support already, thank you! Your financial support helps us provide refugees in Jordan and Lebanon with clean water, relief supplies, and more. And your voice helps us advocate for political change.
In his historic address to the United States Congress, Pope Francis addressed the refugee crisis by saying, “We must not be taken aback by their numbers, but rather view them as persons, seeing their faces and listening to their stories, trying to respond as best we can to their situation. To respond in a way which is always humane, just, and fraternal. We need to avoid a common temptation nowadays: to discard whatever proves troublesome.”
So let’s take his advice and spread humanity, not hate. We need every bit we can get.
ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON OXFAMAMERICA.ORG
Kate Willis
Kate Willis is based in Boston and is the coordinator for the digital engagement team at Oxfam America.