Journal 5: First visit to a tent community

By Aminah Haghighi

Probably the hardest day I’ve dealt with in my life. We arrive in the camp close to the house we’re staying. The bus comes to a hault, as Pere Saveure goes to talk to the director of the camp, Charlotte, to ask permission to enter. We patiently await to depart the bus as we have duffle bags full of toys and candy. But we’re waiting longer now. A man and a woman fighting ends with a woman injured, and a doctor is working dilligently.

We finally get off, and 3 boys come up to me. They want their pictures taken, then they run away. But one stays: Alex. A girl comes up to me and automatically holds my hand’; Angelie. The last is Virginia, she is a little older maybe 15, and holds my other hand. They become my personal security guards and ensure no other child threatens their handholding.

They drink one bottle of water in one gulp. But then everything goes wrong. A couple of people start handing out their donations, and crowds swarm. It was chaotic. Absolute anarchy. It got to be so bad, we had to re-convene on the bus. I asked my translater to assure them that I wasn’t leaving them and I would be back to play with them. As I waited in line to board the bus, the children waited for us outside and around a little shack that sold fruits. The woman tried to shoo away the children and they ended up on the ground crying and injured. The pain of seeing the sheer agression the children were forced to live by, and the poor living conditions, overwhelmed me. I cried, as I boarded the bus, resenting how I had the ability to remove myself from the situation, while they were stuck in chaos. What I didn’t want to happen was the children to lose hope. What I didn’t want to happen was for the children to go home crying to their parents and have them say not to trust the Canadians again.

My new friends had introduced me to their family, and the tents they were so proud of. All of a sudden, I hear that we are not getting off the bus. We had to leave the situation, as it was getting worse. I yelled and cried, that I refused to leave the camp without saying bye to my new friends. I got off the bus, and I told them through my tears that I would do anything in my power to help them, and how sorry I was, and how I loved them. They cried as they embraced me.

A couple of hours later, the 4 of us went into town to look for an Internet cafe. Then I got a sign from God: One of the children from the camp, Alex, found me. He told me he was glad to have met me, and that he hopes to see me again. As hard as the day was, I was happy to have seen my sign from God and I could feel him smiling down on me.