An hour with refugee children

Last night Rachel and I went out to dinner with Brian--one of our friends from birthright. He's on a program in Israel where he volunteers in different areas for a year. I told him how I have been trying to get involved in some sort of volunteer work for awhile now but my program hasn't been very helpful. Being that wonderful friend that he is, he told me to meet him at the central bus station the next day (where he would be for Ulpan) and he would take me to the office that organizes different programs for volunteers, specifically for doing work with refugees.

Around 11am I went to meet him. We went to the office but the volunteer coordinator wasnt in so I got her card which felt like one step closer to getting something set up. After that, Brian said we should go to a woman's apt that he volunteers at each week because he wanted to say goodbye to the kids (hes going to Jordan for the next 9 days).

He warned me beforehand that the apt is next to a house where russian prostitutes live. We walked down a street that had cars blocked off, made a right into a small alleyway, past the prostitutes and to a gate that said read "CHILDRENS GATE". For some reason, passing the prostitutes jolted me to realize where we really were, and where these kids actually are, and the life that they are forced to lead, and the type of environment the children are surrounded in. It's one of those moments where the bubble I live in is popped open and the cold air of the harsh world comes rushing in. It not that I do not think about how awful the world is, and who needs help, but it is easy to put on blinders and spend a day going to the beach or to the coffee shop and not help. If people need help why aren't we all out there every day helping? Why do I feel like "I need a break" after an 8 hour day of running an event at the Intercontinental and come home to watch a movie? Is to help just every once in awhile a fulfilling, meaningful way to live or do we all have hardships and while some are obviously worse than others we are just trying to do the best we can do--so once in awhile ends up being enough? Or is that just an excuse?

All of these children are not recognized by the state of Israel since they are refugees (asylum seekers is the proper term) or immigrants. 

We opened the gate, and walked in to a back yard type of patio which was fairly large. To our left was a little walk way that was covered by an awning and along each wall were cribs or car seats with a child, around 1 year old, in each one (5 toddlers total). We walked into the apartment where there were 6 kids around 3-4 years old playing and in the other room were the 2 women who live in the apt and they were in a room with all of the infants. 

This day care is through Mesila, a volunteer organization here, but it is in a way illegal. A woman, from the Philippines, lives there and during the day refugee or immigrant's drop their children off here when they go to work (where they typically work 16 hour days). Volunteers come every once in awhile but majority of the time I believe it is just these two women with 20 children to take care of. 

The 3-4 yr olds ran up to Brian when he saw them. We took them outside to the backyard and played with them for about 30 minutes. Majority of the children were from Philippines, but a couple were from China and Turkey. The children were beautiful, full of life, and heart warming. After 30 minutes Brian asked if I wanted to check on the toddlers. I didn't even think about it at first--its as if the severity of the situation doesn't set right away.

I walked to the covered area and one toddler was standing up in his crib, a few were sleeping, and one strapped into a car seat was staring up and smiling at me. I bent down, started talking to him, and he was playing with the strap holding him in so I unhooked it and picked him up (I think his name was Jan). All I wanted to do was hold him for as long as possible. I looked down at a little girl in one of the car seats and tried smiling at her, touching her, giving her attention but she still looked at me with a blank stare. She was already gone, in another world. I wanted to take her home with me and try and bring her back to life. It hit me at that moment that this IS their life. Their life, at a year old, is to be dropped off at this apartment and be placed into a car seat or crib and be trapped there for the majority of the day without affection, or touch, or love, or any of the things that these children deserve and should have a right to. They are helpless.

I carried Jan around for 20-30 minutes while playing with the other kids. Jan could walk a bit so he ran around in the sunlight and I had never seen such a huge smile on someone's face. After an hour Brian said we should head out because he had to get back to Ulpan. At this point, I realized I would have to strap Jan back into his car seat and leave him there. It was heartbreaking. At that moment I felt like I just wanted to devote all my time in Israel to coming to this apartment and nurturing these children. Jan put up a bit of a fight when I tried strapping him, but he calmed down after a minute. We said goodbye to the kids, and one of the girls that Brian is very close to (she is probably 2 years old) started hysterically crying and clinging onto him. 

It kills me to think that this is their life, and what's even harder is to think that majority of them don't have a chance in the world. They were born into this life, and now living here without even being recognized by Israel, how can they ever not be invisible? Asylum seekers coming to Israel is a new situation so hopefully they will get their act together and start putting something into place as soon as possible to help them.

I can't stop thinking about those kids and what I can do to help. It is one thing to know that this is a child life, or hear about the hardships people have, or hear about war, or discuss refugees, but it is another to come face to face with it. I am going to contact Mesila tomorrow and hopefully I can begin volunteering like Brian does each week. 

After we left we grabbed a quick lunch and then I came back to my neck of the woods. I went for a run along the beach, hung out at home a little, and had an early dinner with Mia. Tonight starts Yom HaShoah (holocaust remembrance day) so everything has shut down in the city...including the movies (shocker). It has been a long day and I am exhausted. Tomorrow I go back to work. Below is a picture of the flags at half mast for Yom HaShoah. ok ok I took this picture from Wikipedia, but I felt like I needed an image and didn't have one, so thank you Wiki.