Windows into a Refugee Soul (pt 2)

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He quietly interrupted my coworker and I while we were standing in the courtyard talking. "Excuse me, do you have information about where we are going and when?" I explained a few things and then ran off to get a pamphlet about their journey in his own language. We stood talking so long that we eventually moved into the warm tent to sit down. He was on his way to Germany from Afghanistan with his mother and sister. He sadly explained that his father was part of the Taliban, so that was why he wasn't with them. Things had become really difficult after America left. "There are no jobs or opportunities for even the people in the city now. There is no one in power that we can trust." And he went on to tell some stories that depicted these things. His eyes grew very sad as he explained that his father was now trying to marry his 27 year old sister to another man in the Taliban. He had taken his mother and sister and fled, not knowing what would happen or where they would go. The bus engines fired up, and I sadly watched him rush away, back to the two women he loved greatly and was trying to protect.

After meeting his request to help him find a doctor, we began to talk again when he found me outside cleaning. He'd spent three years translating for the US army when they were occupying Afghanistan. He'd become quite close to many soldiers and many of his fellow translator friends now lived in The States. We both got teary eyed as he explained how the Taliban had kidnapped his brother and held him, ultimately taking his life. On top of that, life was very hard in his country. There were no jobs, no opportunities, no one he could trust. His wife had remained behind in Afghanistan as he bravely sought to pave the way to a better life in Germany... maybe the US. In spite of years of hearing about my country, he eagerly, with eyes full of hope, asked me: "What is it like in America?" Taking a deep breath, trying earnestly to not crush the expectation that filled him, I simply said it would be different for him than for myself, but that he had a good chance finding work since he knew English. A few other men began to surround us, watching and listening, each with their own set of quiet hopes and dreams. My heart felt overwhelmed, and I uttered the only words that made any sense in that moment: "I will pray for you!"

I sat coloring with a noisy group of children when I heard her speak to me in English, it was flawless, and I was impressed. After a few minutes of conversing I asked where she'd learned English. She said she was only allowed to finish the 7th grade in school, but she so much wanted to learn English that she made her brother teach her everyday when he would come home from classes. She was traveling with her husband and three small children from Syria. She began to explain how some evil men had barged into their home, demanded they leave, and take nothing with them. They quickly fled to his brother's home, but that wasn't a permanent solution. Now they were on the road to Germany, traveling with a large group of women and children who'd been together with them on the raft from Turkey to Greece. She described how the one hour trip across Aegean Sea in the overcrowded boat had been terrifying, as none of them knew how to swim. Their trip had been without problems, but the following day a raft filled with 30 people went under and all drowned. Sadness filled her eyes as she described other aspects of their journey. I was able to spend two days together with this family, while they were stuck at my camp, and since the borders have been closing, chances are very high that they still have not able to make it to Germany. They, along with thousands of others, are likely stuck in limbo somewhere in a refugee camp, uncertain of what tomorrow will hold.

These stories I share because I want to give a face and a sense of connection with these people that are simply being categorized under the label of 'refugee'. Many things I heard prior to going to Serbia were not true! I want people to know and see what is true regarding this situation. I don't want people to just see the big picture, but rather enter into the ground level in an intimate and personal way. This isn't just a mass migration. These are lives, individual people with beautiful hearts, gut wrenching stories, and in need of help and hope. My wish and prayer is that maybe one somebody (or the Church as a whole) will be inspired to give, go, or pray as a result of reading through these!