the kosovo crisis

Week 2 - A View from Skopje Macedonia

by Anne Lynam Goddard

What a difference a week makes!! From thousands of new refugees arriving daily to dozens trickling in, from cold and rainy nights to hot, dry and dusty days and from fear and shock to relief and gratitude, the scene in Macedonia is in constant change.

A week ago thousands of Kosovar families were pouring over the border into Macedonia seeking refuge. Transported to refugee camps in the middle of the night after many hours on a bus and perhaps days or weeks of hiding in the mountains, people would get off the buses in scenes reminiscent from World War II. Tired, scared and in shock, adults would stare blankly and children would cry. Where were they? Were they safe now?

For the past week, however, the torrid of refugees turned to a trickle. Instead of thousands of new refugees everyday, the numbers turned to a few dozen. On the Macedonian side, the border was open. So the question on everyone's minds, and one that was brought up in all the numerous coordination and planning meetings held, is: "Where did all the Kosovars go?" The answer is - no one knows.

This week of "calmness" gave all the humanitarian organizations working in Macedonia, including CARE, time to catch up. Although there is still much to be done, the overall conditions in camps improved tremendously. There are enough tents for everyone and in some places people are being spread out in order to relieve the severe crowding. More latrines are built with sturdier structures and daily clean-up schedules are being implemented. Although the smell still leaves much to be desired, the long lines in front of the latrines have disappeared and conditions are somewhat comparable to some pit latrines in the U.S., albeit those in my least favorite camping grounds.

Capitalism also has taken root in the camps. Small one-room "corner stores" appeared overnight - literally trucked in by local entrepreneurs. Selling fresh vegetables, Cokes. (proving once again that no matter wherever you go in the world, you can always buy a Coke), plastic sandals and an assortment of odds and ends, refugees have a means to supplement their routine diet and get some basic necessities. Lines in front of the stores, however, are very short - it's totally unclear whether people were able to bring much money with them when they fled their homes.

The weather also changed considerably. It is very hot and dry this week. During the day the temperature is in the low to mid 90s. With such high temperatures and crowded conditions, walking, working or just living in the camps is exhausting. Although plans are underway to erect covered areas for shade, such chores are obviously lower down the list of priorities than health care, food and water. So the choices for refugees are limited to staying inside a hot tent out of the sun, to staying outside in the hot sun hoping to catch a little breeze. Things are only going to get worse as the typical Macedonian summer regularly includes temperatures well over 100 degrees.

As many refugees have completed more than 3-4 weeks in the camps, the initial shock has worn off. People are very grateful for the work of organizations like CARE and the support received from around the world. One tent I saw had a big sign painted on its side in English which said "Thank you NATO" surrounded by drawings of all the NATO flags. Refugees, however, are not just sitting down waiting for people to help them. They are helping themselves. Camps are all divided into sections (labeled alphabetically with each tent numbered - giving each refugee family a new "street address" like F5) and volunteer leaders from each section work in organizing whatever needs to get done. I visited a distribution tent in Section F of Cegrane Camp and met the local leaders. Nasine, a man in his mid-40s, stood sweating in the middle of the tent organizing some of the day's food ration of bread, orange juice and canned fish. In his previous life in Kosovo, he was a lawyer but now he was organizing food distribution for the 3,120 refugees in his section. One of his assistants was Hanife, a beautiful recent college graduate in Economics. I wondered if her life ever returns to normal, will she put this "job" on her resume. Both Nasine and Hanife thanked me for the help CARE and others are giving them.

As I see and talk to refugees like Nasine and Hanife, I see myself, my 45-year-old engineer husband, my 78-year-old mother or my 6-year-old first-grade daughter. At first I thought it was because these refugees are white, like myself. But it's not that. It's because many of them are middle class, urban folks like myself. Before this crisis, they lived lives like mine back in the U.S. But although life goes on a refugee camp - two babies are born on average each day and I have heard of two marriages - life is far from normal for a refugee. As time passes and weeks change to months and the hot summer bears down, it is inevitable that the feelings of relief and gratitude will give way to frustration. After all, how long would you be happy to live in a tent? A return home to Kosovo must be made possible soon.