lot of aid has come here,
but there is so much need and not enough manpower to distribute it fast enough.
There is a general consensus of distrust from the expat community towards the
Albanians, and it's best if they can be kept out of the aid-distribution proccess.
Albanians think that
Kosovars are wealthier than they, and for that reason don’t feel as if the Kosovars
deserve anything extra from anyone. They skim off the top and extort money, clothing
and food from the refugees and from the aid workers whenever they can. Not a day goes
by that an Albanian doesn’t come to the orphanage gate asking for food for the
"Kosovars who live in my house." Because of this, most expats who reside in this
community are currently trying to distribute aid themselves until a larger relief
organization centralizes the effort. These organizations are
still concentrating on the northern part of Albania and are just beginning to trickle
into our city. Until then, we are doing what we can.
ith another organization, we have set up a child bathing station at
the transitional camp where women can bring their kids for a warm
bath (no plumbed hot water) and clean clothes.
This camp is basically a large decrepit gymnasium
(called the "Sports Palace") that has held over 3000 refugees at one
time.
Some people stay one night, other stay ten days depending
upon the readiness of the more permanent camps to accept
additional people. Refugees at the transitional camp
(as well as some of the permanent camps) sleep on the floor with
foam mattresses and few blankets.
Three meals of bread, cheese, sausage and hard-boiled
eggs are served by area churches each day.
hen women first come to our station, their children are so dirty. They have lice, diarrhea
and open sores. Babies’ bottoms are sometimes so red. Most people have colds.
We give them warm baths and new clothes. Some women are so thankful for even the smallest
of things, extra socks or a hand-me-down coat. We begin to recognize the ones that stay for a few days.
We see the secondhand sweater given out a few days ago, or the kid
with lice who now has a buzz cut. Moms ask if you are tired.
hen they leave, many come to say goodbye. Some even bring small gifts: oranges or leftover
cookies. Once a woman bought us ice cream cones on the street because we were "Americans".
(She also told us to tell Bill Clinton to send in ground troops.) No matter how much you
try to refuse, they won’t take these gifts back. They try to retain their dignity amidst
a very undignified situation. Jill went to watch the transferring refugees load into
shuttle buses with the little belongings they had collected. Moms she knew saw her.
They held up to the window every baby and child she had bathed, waving their hands goodbye.
t is difficult to keep emotions in check. Not a day passes without the feeling of
inadequacy to care for these refugees. On rainy nights, we wake up thinking of the
bad roofs and broken windows of certain refugee camps. We visit sites to deliver food and
diapers, and they ask for clothes. We bring clothes and they ask for blankets. Never
anything extravagant, just basic needs. Just things to get by.
lot of aid has come here,
but there is so much need and not enough manpower to distribute it fast enough.
There is a general consensus of distrust from the expat community towards the
Albanians, and it's best if they can be kept out of the aid-distribution proccess.
Albanians think that
Kosovars are wealthier than they, and for that reason don’t feel as if the Kosovars
deserve anything extra from anyone. They skim off the top and extort money, clothing
and food from the refugees and from the aid workers whenever they can. Not a day goes
by that an Albanian doesn’t come to the orphanage gate asking for food for the
"Kosovars who live in my house." Because of this, most expats who reside in this
community are currently trying to distribute aid themselves until a larger relief
organization centralizes the effort. These organizations are
still concentrating on the northern part of Albania and are just beginning to trickle
into our city. Until then, we are doing what we can.
ith another organization, we have set up a child bathing station at
the transitional camp where women can bring their kids for a warm
bath (no plumbed hot water) and clean clothes.
This camp is basically a large decrepit gymnasium
(called the "Sports Palace") that has held over 3000 refugees at one
time.
Some people stay one night, other stay ten days depending
upon the readiness of the more permanent camps to accept
additional people. Refugees at the transitional camp
(as well as some of the permanent camps) sleep on the floor with
foam mattresses and few blankets.
Three meals of bread, cheese, sausage and hard-boiled
eggs are served by area churches each day.
t is difficult to keep emotions in check. Not a day passes without the feeling of
inadequacy to care for these refugees. On rainy nights, we wake up thinking of the
bad roofs and broken windows of certain refugee camps. We visit sites to deliver food and
diapers, and they ask for clothes. We bring clothes and they ask for blankets. Never
anything extravagant, just basic needs. Just things to get by.
