A Palestinian Refugee Camp

Bourj al-Bourajni
Originally uploaded by Jane Rubio.

This is a Palestinian refugee camp, one of four in Beirut. Lebanon has 16. Palestinians are only officially allowed to work at 7 occupations, which are mostly menial labor jobs. They cannot own any property. Their schools and hospitals are run by UNRWA. They have about 60 kids in a class, and one doctor for about 20, 000 people.

Of course, teaching in a place like this is hell. What incentives do the children have to study, work hard in school, and graduate? They can't legally work in any profession. Yet there are some who do go on to colleges to get degrees that they can't really use in Lebanon--except, of course, to serve their own community.

Lebanon does not want to give the Palestinians any rights because they think that would be letting Israel off the hook. . . Where's the logic here? So they do evil in response to Israel's evil. (Compare to Jesus's/MLK's turn-the-other-cheek method.)

In this picture, you can see the crazy electrical wires that are everywhere. People getting electrocuted is a big problem. This is one of the widest pathways in the camp. The rest are not wide enough for two people to pass side by side. Thousands of people live cramped in a one-mile squared space.

The Palestinians get screwed on all sides. No one lets them have land or citizenship or even basic human rights.

It's easy to hate Israel. But when you come here, it becomes really easy to hate Lebanon, Jordan, and the rest of the Arab World who have done nothing to help the people whose cause they seem to champion so vehemently.

You can come here and serve. I met a lot of people (actually all white women) who are volunteering their services over the summer--doing occupational therapy, social work, nursing, teaching creativity classes with the kids, doing aerobics and fitness classes. Come one, come all! I can put you in touch with the people who run these things. I was going to volunteer. But I decided that right now studying Arabic is a better investment of my time.