Day 2. Our learning curve was big today, on all levels. We were surrounded at the container where NuN keeps its donations by refugees wanting shoes. The men, practical, were thrilled with the hiking boots and thick socks i brought (Thanks everyone!) The women, however, wanted nothing to do with the practical water proof rubber boots –they all wanted track shoes. Even on this long and arduous route, they are women, first and foremost, and care about what they wear. Which on one hand was shocking, but on another was comforting in the sense that they haven’t lost the basic human need to be pretty and feminine, as impractical as it may be at the moment.
Personally there was a learning curve
about our own tolerance. We’ve seen the long term volunteers be curt to refugees, and yesterday we judged it. Today, the long term volunteers laughed at us, as we lost our patience in exasperation, when someone rejected a scarf for the 4th time, or because they didn’t like the color or the style of the shoe. The long lines and people pressing in, all needing something either practical, like shoes, or just a validation that they are human, please give me something, was overwhelming, and when that was coupled by repeat visits about color, style and so on, both Sehr and i lost our patience, at least once.
I met a very sad family from Iran today. They roamed the woods for 3 days until the wife fell and hurt her leg. She was in so much pain she couldn’t walk, so they came to the camp to turn themselves in. They were detained by the boarder police, and one of the social workers came and asked us for some things for their baby. So i went with her and then spent the next hour shuttling back and forth once
i discovered they were soaking wet in 0 degree weather. They were in detention, so i ran around, until i found everything they needed. Then i begged for the police to let them change. Finally, with Kemal’s assistance, i was granted permission to take the wife to the bathroom to change into the clothes i brought. But once we started walking i realized she was actually very injured. I had to support her while we walked, and one of the red cross doctors gave us permission to take her to their tent, after she changed. I had just gotten her all set in tights and new warm pants, so when the doctors said they were going to cut off her tights to look at her leg, we both objected. By then i guess the police had decided that i had kidnapped her, because they came looking for us, with Kemal in the lead looking a little concerned. There was nothing more i could do than give her a tight hug and say, it is a new year, it will be better. I put every good wish i could into that hug, and prayed inshallah, that for her, it would be true.