Refuge

Refuge

   It is difficult to capture current events, especially for something as complicated as the bombings now going on (240 as of yesterday) in both Iraq and Syria, and certainly for something as simple as a blog.  This is difficult even for weekly magazines such as The Week or The New Yorker.  The latter's issue from yesterday reported this: ISIS opens with a sustained artillery bombardment, which can last for days, then sends in waves of suicide bombers.  When the defenses start to crack, its fighters race in on trucks, guns firing.  This was how ISIS conquered the Iraqi cities of Sinjar and Al Qaim, on the Euphrates.  "Without airpower, I think our guys would have had a hard time holding them off," the official said.  He said that ISIS was the result of a brutal process of "combat Darwinism," by which only the strongest, most fanatical fighters survived the American onslaught in 2006 and 2007, when Al Queda in Iraq was nearly destroyed.  "These are the guys we didn't kill."

   It was no wonder then that Turkey reported receiving 66,000 fleeing refugees on Saturday alone.  Their total is now over 1.3 million people fleeing the shelling and the killing.  Jordan reports their numbers are nearing 1 million refugees.  A small glimpse of this was captured by National Geographic reporter, John Stanmeyer.  His images are shocking, stunning and his reporting even more so.  As he says, "The bizarreness of it all is that this was an influx of many middle class people wandering in wearing slacks and dresses and jackets, even carrying elegant handbags.  It’s clearly a group of people that have not migrated like this before.  They only brought the clothing on them or a roller, as if they were heading to the airport.  Seeing them, I feel like I’m photographing myself, I’m witnessing the reality that can befall upon anyone of us...This was not an exodus like in Rwanda, but a lot of people coming handicapped, in wheelchairs.  A lot of people were being carried across border.  One woman had very specialized leg braces but she couldn’t walk.   Many elderly, infirm, handicapped.  I saw three or four kids with Downs Syndrome.  It wasn’t just the poor or rural community.  Many were middle class in this exodus."

   Reporting on something like this is best left to those brave enough to actually be there, to risk their lives to bring us accurate and detailed news as they see it, unfiltered and unedited.  Piecing together the many parts of this complicated puzzle is the job of editors of larger magazines...and not that of a blog.  What I had tried to do was simply present an overview of just how convoluted this sort of crisis can be, to encourage you to read deeper, to acknowledge that reading one article is just that, one article from one viewpoint.  One thoroughly edited, possibly thoroughly censored report on television.  One thoroughly opinionated view from a blog.  And this will hold true for most news reporting from any source...

   But more importantly, at least in this case, one has to feel a worldwide compassion for the refugees.  John Stanmeyer's reporting brought much of that home, people in slacks, people in wheelchairs, people breathing a sigh of relief just to get out, to be safe even if they now had nowhere to go and no idea what to do from this point forward.  It is certainly a different viewpoint from our country's early days in Ellis Island when refugees here emerged with the same feelings into a country whose language was different, who people were different, and who was welcoming them with mixed emotions...still, scared as they were, it was felt that it was better than what they left (if you haven't taken the self-guided recorded tour of Ellis Island, make it a priority...you'll hear the actual voices of those entering and their impressions, their feelings, their hesitations and their shock as seeing many of them simply turned away to face the long 3-week boat ride home).

   The folk trio, Peter, Paul and Mary, tried to capture this in one of their songs, Invisible People.  "We came to a new world, Tired of the old one, Hungry for freedom, And heavy with prayer.  Invisible people, We can't see their tears, They still cry out, But no one can hear...Shattered in spirit, Promises broken, Hunters and healers, Now refugees...Tell me who is the savage, Who is the savior, When a people are ravaged, By hatred and greed, Invisible people"

   How desperate would things have to be for you to just walk away?  To leave paintings and jewelry and laptops and pictures and probably pets.  To grab those you love, to grab them by the hands and simply get out, get away, wearing only what you have?  To just run, miles if you have to, and to breathe a sigh of relief on the "safe" side, glad to be alive with time to think later of what you left behind.  To sit in a camp with 30,000 others (think of the largest arena where you went to to see a concert...most indoor arenas hold about 30,000 or so people) or in some cases, 100,000 others, each with close to the same thoughts as you...what to do now, what about those left behind, how will you care for your ailing child or mother or grandparent?  When will better times come?  What will be left when you return...will you ever return? 

   We all seek refuge in some form, whether it's through religion or a friend or just by withdrawing into a quiet corner or stilling our minds.  But few of us will have to face what is happening, what is still happening, in areas around the world (imagine being a child and running away to safety...why would your parents do this, are they still alive, how will you find them, why are there so many of you, who is that big man coming over, how much longer will you have to hide in this bush, when will you find something to eat or drink?).  One tribal chief in North America was quoted as saying, (my people) "...fight, work like buffalo, run, starve, and die--and no one knows."

   Insulated as we are, shaking our heads in disgust at the 30-second clip on the news, we turn off the television and head to our dinner, fresh out of the oven, plenty to eat, time to watch something mindless since work was stressful today then off to bed, our nice warm bed, especially since it is getting cold outside.  Make sure the doors are locked.  After all, we want to be safe...exactly how almost all of the refugees now in camp likely felt only a few days ago.  66,000 of them felt on Saturday. 

   Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote, "Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not."  Tonight, just before falling asleep, think of how blessed you are, where you are, and how much you have, not only in health and possessions, but in loved ones and in comfort.  And how quickly it can all disappear...