Welcoming the Stranger in Eastern Chad

I’m writing from Abeche in Eastern Chad where I’m visiting programs of the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society (HIAS).  HIAS works in five refugee camps providing psychosocial trauma counseling, social services, recreation, material assistance and Sexual and Gender Based Violence programming.  I’ll be writing more and sharing pictures as I process the experience. 

It has truly been mind blowing.  First, just the physical space is so different than anything I have seen.  Expansive sand and scrub.  Goats, donkeys, lizards and camels wandering the roads and streets.  Dust and heat.  Traditional Arab and African dress.  And this is before getting to the refugee camps.

We spent the last two days visiting in the Gaga refugee camp — watching HIAS’ staff work with the over 20,000 Darfuri refugees who call the camp home.  The programs were inspiring, with our Rwandan-born, Belgian-resident, chief staff person organizing a wide variety of activities to help the Darfuris — some who have been in the camp for as many as five years — deal with trauma, persecution and death. 

For now I just want to recount what happened on our arrival.  We came into the HIAS compound where we saw a large group of children, probably more than 200, who were arranged by age.  I took part in the weekly ritual of greeting – walking around the square shaking each and every hand.  Some of the kids were unbelievably shy and withdrawn while others slapped my hand and almost gave “high 5s.”  Some were dressed in beautiful colorfull clothing while others were in rags. 

As I walked around the group, all I could think of was that this is literally what we mean when we say that we, as Jews, are commanded by the Torah to “welcome the stranger.”  While very few of the children could speak English –and I tried to get by with salam aleikum (peace be with you) and shukran (thank you) — it was clear that the arrival of the HIAS delegation from the United States was deeply meaningful.  We had come to them from from so far away and were there simply to be with them. 

HIAS’ chief in the camp, Dr. Patrick, performed this ritual, providing solidarity, but also using the greetings as a chance to assess the psychological state of the children in his care.  As he shook each hand he noted how the child responded.  Did their responses require follow up in an individual or group counseling session?  Should they be referred to a support group? Did they need additional visits or human contact? Or was there a medical problem that needed immediate attention.  I was with him when he found a child with a bad fever who had not received any medical attention.  As part of this program the little boy (who was probably two or three years old) was immediately turned over to the care of a HIAS Community Mobilizer (CM).  The CM, a Darfuri refugee himself, took the boy to the clinic and would later follow up with the family to counsel them on the need to watch more closely to protect the child’s health.   

What I took away from Gaga is that we absolutely need to make the effort to come to refugees, where they are, and make the connection of welcome.  But also, that with a professional humanitarian program in place, the welcome can literally be a life saver.

More to come.