david's doodles

Riverbend - Refugee

Well over 4 million Iraqis have left their homes because of the ongoing violence. A half of them are crammed into neighboring states, primarily Syria and Jordan. Riverbend is one of those refugees.

Riverbend is a talented young woman who writes about her daily experiences. She writes with humor, in English, using exquisite prose. Until recently, she was living in Baghdad, but daily life became intolerable. As a result, the family decided to take their chances and flee to Syria. After an expected hiatus, she is writing again on her blog, Baghdad Burning.

She mentions in her description of the journey that Syria is the only country, apart from Jordan, that allows people in without a visa. Of course, with a dysfunctional Iraqi government, getting a visa is an impossibilty for most Iraqis. So — how can a small country like Syria possibly support an influx of a million refugees, with tens of thousands more crossing the border every month? In contrast, the U.S. has only allowed about 700 Iraqi refugees into this country since 2003.

Politics apart, being forced to flee is a terrible and tragic event for anyone. Sadly, it seems to be an all too common experience in many parts of the world, what with environmental disasters like hurricanes and earthquakes, armed conflicts, and dwindling resources like water and food. Perhaps we should have a global insurance system to cover such loss of livelihood? The UN agencies are unable to cope.

All of Riverbend’s article is well worth reading. But in particular I’d like to quote the concluding paragraphs:

The first minutes after passing the border were overwhelming. Overwhelming relief and overwhelming sadness… How is it that only a stretch of several kilometers and maybe twenty minutes, so firmly segregates life from death?

How is it that a border no one can see or touch stands between car bombs, militias, death squads and… peace, safety? It’s difficult to believe- even now. I sit here and write this and wonder why I can’t hear the explosions.

I wonder at how the windows don’t rattle as the planes pass overhead. I’m trying to rid myself of the expectation that armed people in black will break through the door and into our lives. I’m trying to let my eyes grow accustomed to streets free of road blocks, hummers and pictures of Muqtada and the rest…

How is it that all of this lies a short car ride away?

I have written about Riverbend before. There is this 2004 Christmas wish list , an article about the 2005 publication of a book of her writing, and this mention of her nomination for a BBC prize for non-fiction. Enjoy!