I got a tattoo at a Refugee Camp…
One of the teenage boys, I will call him W for this post, spent most of my shift at the gate two days ago bugging me to no end. He would try and sneak in my gate, come up and tap me on the shoulder and run away, and steal all my stuff. He drove me absolutely crazy for 8 hours. By around ten o’clock he could see it was getting to me, not to mention the tensions from the riots in camp. Honestly, I was done I wanted to go home. Then he started to change his tune. I think he was just trying to see how many buttons he could push and how much of my attention he could get. He was harmless and I just kept reminding myself of his situation. He’s a teenage boy that lives in unaccompanied minors, which means he either has no family or they are still back in his home country. Regardless he has no one here. No one, let that sink in for a second. Imagine you are a teenager in a foreign country with no family, no control over your future, and have no idea what will happen tomorrow. This kid pulls on my heart strings.
Fast forward till about 10pm. W has started to change. He isn’t sneaking into my gate anymore and has returned all my stuff. He is now calling me friend. I am relieved because at this point I was going to have to call someone to get him if he continues to sneak in and break the rules because the residents are getting upset. He sits down and we have a small conversation. He teaches me a handshake and decides that’s how we will greet each other from now. “You are my friend.” Yes W we are friends now.
Our team is on the same shift the following day. We went in a couple hours early because there were 100 new arrivals that day and they simply don’t have the manpower to handle it. I start out in housing and do a few odd jobs. Then the shift leader looks at a couple of us and tells us she needs us at gates. They tell us the names of the gates and of course I take A. I have now spent 4 shifts there (approx.. 36 hours!) It feels like home and I know most of the residents. Before I even get there W comes barreling down the hill towards us. He stops and asks Erica and I if we want coffee. We told we were ok, we didn’t have any money. He insisted on buying both of us coffee. Ya’ll I don’t even like coffee but you better believe I drank every drop of that cup because it was bought with such love. I go through my shift, it was a pretty uneventful day at that point. W comes around every once in a while for a handshake and a quick “hello friend”.
Towards the end of my shift a few fights broke out in the section next door and there were some sort of riot up in the top of camp so tensions were pretty high again. We are located directly in front of the police station because the section I work is for vulnerable families, people with disabilities, unaccompanied minors, and single women and children. So it’s pretty safe no matter what is going on around camp. I sat down beside my gate after things had pretty much calmed down and my friend W came to sit with me. He had a pen in his hand and was drawing on his friend’s arm, giving “tattoos”. I told him they were cool and asked him about it. He told me what he was drawing and grabbed my arm. He was giving me a “tattoo” before I could say anything. At least this kind isn’t permanent and doesn’t require needles. I have no idea what it is. Some sort of chicken with a heartbeat and a dagger I think. Oh and the chicken has an A and is bleeding I think. (There’s a picture attached) As he was very intricately drawing on my arm all I could think about was 24 hours ago I wanted to absolutely strangle this kid and now we are friends. I pray our friendship has brought some joy into this kid’s life. I pray he can see Jesus and that someday he accepts the Lord into his life and finds hope. I pray he has a family and gets to see them again someday or is adopted and loved by someone. I pray for his future. But for right now I will sit and smile as he draws some sort of chicken on my arm.
So yea I got a “tattoo” at a Refugee camp. Don’t worry it’s not permanent and it didn’t involve needles but it was drawn with love and has left an impression on my heart that I will never forget. This kid is just one of thousands. Continue to pray for these precious refugees and the volunteers who work tirelessly day in and day out to serve them. Our team is defiantly feeling your prayers and they are greatly appreciated.
