Monday 22 January 2007

It's not so simple here

The infrastructure here at Budu is far more complex than I ever
imagined. I tried not to have any assumptions or preconceptions but i
did think my time here, that life here would be more difficult but 'simple':

that it would be a more rural setting; Buduburam Refugee Camp is a town, not in our sense of the word but still so, 30,000+ people scratching
out an existence. 'businesses' whether it's plaitting hair or selling
bags of water, hawking off volunteers or chatting to rich white men
online - it's all to make money to survive. The 'streets' are bustling
and busy, at night the '18' the mainthoroughfare is chocker, it's more like Newcastle's Big Market but without the vomit, loud and intimidating.

then there's the political complexities of the camp. The two American
vols with me are very clued up on African history and politics (this
continent has been an lifelong obsession for them) and they've made
great efforts to suss out the politics on camp. There are many NGO's (non governmental Organisations) who bring vols to their projects for their expertise in an area - eg training, teaching etc., but unfortunately more unscrupulous NGO's are happy to take vols donations and use them less honestly. Stories of Jeeps appearing and uncompleted projects abound. I and the children of the CAMES are so lucky in that Karrus Hayes and the staff at the school have spotless reputations. Every resource is ploughed into the school.
it'a an UNHCR camp so th UN subsidize basics, security, some food, some protection for the most vulnerable. I don't understand the hierarchy of the UNHCR
but funding is being squeezed here and will drastically be cut in July
2007. this is to encourage repatriation back to Liberia where 95% are
from. Not all want to go, so how the settlement will function in 10/20
years from now is a frightening mystery. There have been elected
councils on site but it's unclear what responsibilities they have and
any organised action from the people here seemserratic and difficult to
fathom. the longer I spend here though, more comforting examples of
individuals working very hard to organise and share resources come to
the fore: These people are survivors, to comprehend their daily
struggles and understand a common mind set, too gather a sense of what
it means to live as a refugee here in my short time here will be impossible.
It's better I think for me to concentrate my efforts on what I was brought here to do. Helping the children is tangible and rewarding; remember the circumstances - forget the bigger picture, it does your head in.

the final level of complexity here is the most difficult for me; my first ten days have been emotionally draining and in so many ways. the kids in school continue
to shock me with their tenacity, will to learn and curiosity. they are
like any kids I've worked with anywhere but their circumstances make
them all the more special. However, what is really emotionally draining is the adult
interactions you have daily, consistently. (as i write this I've been
accosted twice!) at least 10 - 15 people a day, strangers want to be
your friend. They're looking for sponsorship for schooling/ a wife / a
foster home for their child etc, etc. You have to be polite of course
and remember the reasons why they're like this, but it's exhausting
because it's so relentless. We went to a craft market in Accra on
Sunday and the attention to buy stuff was so heavy andaggressive that
(but for instruments for the kids at school) I bought nothing - it was
a miserable experience. After a horrendously dust and hot hour and a
half journey home, I got back to camp to find a child and a former
child soldier, Georgy, waiting for me, both demanding attention and
help. I had to turn the ex child soldier away and of course give focus
to the Rufus (a boy Han and Si became close to) but I felt like shit
for Georgy because it was his childhood that brought me here in the
first place. It becomes impossible to tell who is having a genuine conversation with you and who is , well, hustling. You are asked for your email, phone number, blah and some
seem 'straight' but then you may be bombarded by calls and visits the
next day/hour. The result is that you become hard and cinical towards people, the kids become the majority you can truly trust! Then I think of all i have at home, loved ones, security, work, water, electricity, the ridiculous abundance of food and I feel intolerant.
Last night, all of this emotional pressure got to me and I had a huge
sobbing breakdown - if a car had arrived to take me home, I'd have got
in it. If we have a seriously bad day at home, you can; call a friend -
here the network is often down; you can escape into the tv - yeah right; you can read a book - no light to read by if lekky
down; a bath...? Make a cup of tea...? Vodka and Slimline...? Of course
the moment passed, but it's tough here - really tough. At least I can
ge out; unlike a refugee I can go home.

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