Sabra Refugee Camp in Beirut (Photo by EOD)
Wherever I am–be it walking to class or running an errand–I bump into Syrian children on the street–who tug at my shirt, and beg me for money or a meal. When I’m visiting the refugee camps, I can’t help but shake my head in disbelief when seeing the horrible conditions under which many of the refugees live–sometimes with nine people to just one room. Those who are fortunate enough to be able to afford an apartment have filled any vacancies in my neighborhood and others nearby–pricing out many students and new refugee arrivals who are forced to find apartments in other crowded sections of the city.
The presence of the Syrian conflict is all around us. Today, a man who was helping me carry water to my house told me that he’s a Syrian refugee from Damascus. When I asked him how his family is doing, he said, “Damascus is very dangerous”–though he is longing to return. Even at St. Jude’s, when I asked a young mother the name of her two-year-old child, she replied: “Damascus.”
It’s heartbreaking to see so many Syrians suffering here in Beirut. Even though the refugee camps have become too dangerous for me to work in, I’m still hoping to find new ways of helping out in whatever ways that I can…in the face of such intense suffering, I don’t think I can just stand back and watch…
