#out of the cold

Reflections from a Refugee Camp

Our experience in Lebanon was incredibly moving for everyone involved. Here we are in a centre for the elderly. We were privileged to hear the stories of residents at the centre, some of whom still cherished memories of Palestine. 

A wizened 83 year old named Fatima told us of her two children, both of whom struggle with muscle disease and are unable to carry their own weight. We were shocked to learn that she carries them on her hunched back wherever they need to go, displaying the kind of care that only a mother can give.

It was at this moment that members of our team felt compelled to ask the dreaded, unspoken question, “who will look after your two disabled sons if something were to happen to you and your husband?” She replied with tears streaming down her face as she raised her hands to the sky and said simply, but confidently, “Allah.”

May Allah ease their pain and difficulties. Please keep your donations coming in: http://tinyurl.com/WinterAidForRefugees

WINTER IN PALESTINE: A Swedish Perspective

- Hanan (Interpal A/W 2016 Intern)

When you think of ‘winter’, you are probably imaginingSweden. Snow, ice, reindeer, we have them all. During winter-time the temperature falls below zero, encasing the land in a thick blanket of snow that doesn’t melt for months. You might think that by our standards, the Middle Eastern winter in Palestine isn’t so much of a big deal. How wrong you’d be…

The big difference is that we have lots of warm clothes, cosy, heated houses and enough food to keep us snug and comfortable for the whole season. The Palestinians, despite it rarely snowing, face months of relentless rainandwind, with inadequate shelter and protection due to ramshackle housing and poor electrical facilities.

Despite the freezing temperatures in Sweden, we rarely ever feel cold. However, for the Palestinians, the drop in temperature has a severe impact, resulting in disease epidemics,poor sanitation anddisruption to healthcare and educational services. Back home in Sweden, we have buses to take us safely to schoolandploughs to clear the roads so that daily life can continue as normal despite the severity of the weather. The people of Palestine however, especially in Gaza, face environmental hazards and are particularly prone tocatastrophic flooding. Left unprotected from these seasonal risks, Palestinians are forced to always consider what their next step will be. The most we think about in Sweden is whether our boots will be slightly damp from the snow.

The2014 assault on Gaza left thousands of buildings damaged and rendered houses unliveable. During the winter months, conditions deteriorate until people are living precarious existences in the midst of poverty. I cannot imagine a winter exposed to the elements in this way. The thought of it makes me shiver.

This winter, Interpal are asking that we come together for Palestine to bring people #OutOfTheCold. You can donate to our Winter Aid appeal by calling us on 0208 961 9993, visiting our website www.interpal.orgor clicking the link on our Facebook page. Our hands might be cold but our hearts will surely be warm if we come together to help Palestinians in need.

Lebanon Diaries: Final Day

On our last day in Lebanon we visited a family living in Jal al-Bahr, an unofficial Palestinian refugee camp located on the Tyre coast. 

With no barrier to protect the camp from the harsh winds of winter, houses are destroyed and damaged year after year. Every winter, crashing waves, higher each year, come pounding into the camp, wrecking everything in their path. The flimsy homes people have made for themselves afford them little shelter from the elements. Families are forced to watch their homes disappear every year with little hope of proper reconstruction or repair.

Just imagine yourself in their place, the fear you would feel for your children if they lived in these conditions.

To donate to the delegation, visit http://tinyurl.com/WinterAidForRefugees

Winter Aid Distribution Update

Lebanon Day 1:

The Interpal UK team has arrived safely in Lebanon to begin their trip to our projects in the refugee camps. 

We began by giving out the sweet cones that you so generously donated to children in need of a little love and care this winter. Many of these children will have seen horrors we cannot even imagine and face a future of economic uncertainty, poor education and a lack of opportunities. 

As we travel through Lebanon over the coming weeks we will be visiting innovative and sustainable projects through which Interpal carefully uses you kind donations to really make a difference to these people’s lives. Displaced Palestinians face a harsh winter ahead with poor infrastructure and restrictions on outside support. You can help us to make a difference and keep them #OutOfTheCold this winter.

Follow our adventures on Instagram @interpal_uk or add us on Snapchat for exclusive clips from the field including interviews with staff and beneficiaries so you can witness first-hand what life is like for Palestinian refugees in Lebanon. 

To donate to our Urgent Winter Appeal call us on 0208 961 993 or visit www.interpal.org

Cold hands, warm hearts

One of our Sponsorship Assistants reflects on the winter and her role in securing vital lifelines for children in need.

It is mid-winter and the cold is the only thing on my mind. Before I make a start on my work for the day I notice an unusual flush creeping over my complexion. The hint of heat on my cheeks thaws my cold hands so I cradle my face for a few minutes. I stop typing, I stop working and I start thinking.

***

I work in Interpal’s sponsorship department, processing requests and donations and delivering feedback from our projects in the field. In a nutshell, my role entails helping thousands of Palestinian children and their families to secure much needed aid. From my perspective, I see the donations process in its entirety, mediating between donors, staff in the field offices and our beneficiaries.

In amongst the administrative duties and everyday office tasks I have the unique privilege of hearing the stories of extraordinary children and their families. Even though I do not physically meet them, I am privy to intimate details about their lives. I know what they look like, (now and how they have changed and matured over the years), what they study at school, their aspirations and dreams for the future. But I also know of their difficulties. I see them grow up and vicariously experience their every joy and hardship from the distance of our office in London as they live through one of the most shameful periods in contemporary history; the Palestinian refugee crisis. Extraordinary children in extraordinary circumstances. The protracted displacement of the Palestinians is the longest running refugee crisis of our era and has now spilled over into the complications of other conflicts in the region, further muddying the waters until the international community finds it increasingly difficult to separate one set of causes from the effects of another.

Winter in London is a familiar visitor but one I cannot quite get used to. Of course, it has its moments of beauty, moments I enjoy best in my house, under the bed covers, tucked up in flannel pyjamas and drinking a steaming cup of hot chocolate. The long winter months seem to stretch out forever and it strikes me that despite any discomfort I may face, every year thousands of lives at home and abroad are lost because of vulnerability and our failure to act swiftly and humanely.

The winter is also a time of reflection, celebration and thankfulness. Year in year out, I am reminded of my many privileges. The list is endless, including in it the many inalienable social, political and economic freedoms we enjoy, but on a cold winter day like today, and even more on colder nights, I find myself ironically adding to my mental list the freedom from having to make the hard choices between feeding myself and my family and freezing to death.

Most people don’t realise just how cold it can get in the Middle East. The idea that people can freeze to death in a place that is so often characterised by desert heat and the image of a burning sun seems unimaginable. However, winters in Palestine are as harsh as ours if not more so, as our planet’s changing climate brings with it unexpected new weather patterns, catching people unprepared and thus engineering a catastrophe.

Other than the superficial comparisons my imagination can muster, I cannot comprehend the realities enough to authentically feel their emotions. I get first hand reports from our field offices, trawl through figures and statistics, listen to anecdotes, scroll through pictures and sometimes even videos. But what are facts to a distant and disconnected mind? Our minds can crunch numbers and register emotions, but even the power of empathy cannot fully feel what it is like to be a Palestinian refugee.

Many of the families I deal with directly do not have means of heating themselves or their property. Still more cannot afford winter clothing and do not even possess enough clothes to be able to layer up - one of the main winter safety tips offered by the NHS. Others are without shelter due to lasting damage or destruction from successive shelling and war. Food is also scarce and in the winter an empty stomach can increase the likelihood of death. Moreover, the healthcare facilities in the region are under-equipped due to the tight restrictions on what is allowed in and out of the territory. Social security is almost non-existent and many people are trapped in legal and political quagmires. This is an over-simplification of their struggle, of course, just know that the odds are not stacked in their favour.

This is why I cannot help but pay attention to the cold creeping over me. The shivering, the shuddering, and the stiff discomfort all strike me as stark reminders of my privilege. What about those living in the crowded refugee camps of Gaza, Lebanon and Jordan, and in the occupied territories of the West Bank? What about their parents, grandparents, their friends, their communities, all of whom are fighting to survive the cold amidst all of their other daily struggles?

My thoughts are interrupted once more by the incessant creeping of the cold. I, unlike Palestinian children and family, am well equipped to fight the winter and its blues. Almost without thinking, I flick the switch on the electric heater stationed neatly under my desk and take a long sip of my hot cup of tea, a British tradition I proudly claim during the winter months.

As I write this, I reflect on the ways in which we should not feel guilty for the privilege of warmth and wealth, but instead put these comforts to good use. Let us warm the hands and hearts of those who are struggling to survive the winter, and revive another great British tradition in this festive season, that of generously giving and caring about those in need.