Ever since I’ve returned from Aleppo a week ago, I’ve been working pretty non-stop on the project.  This has meant lots of interviews, videos, and photos. Afterwards, the we have to convert, translate, and edit videos, sort and edit photos, and try to put some sort of product together.  Its been a very exhausting, full, moving, emotional time so far.  Last night, I watched the first draft of photos with music, and I cried.

Yesterday I went to the home of a woman who fled Iraq 10 months ago.  She sat and told me that her husband had been shot and killed on his way to buy bread in the morning.  Three days later, still grieving and thankfully with not home, armed militia rushed into her empty home to hide from the Americans.  They opened fire on the Americans and in retaliation, a tank destroyed her home. Her son (in his late 20’s) gave me a CD to take and watch when I got home, which turned out to be a grainy cell phone video of her walking through the remains of her burned down home and sobbing.  Then they point to a stately picture of their father high on the bare white wall, looking over the family in his sharp navy suit.  The son asks if I’d like to see more pictures of his father.  Of course I would, expecting vintage family photos.  He returns from the bedroom with a plain white envelope, still sealed.  I ask if I can open it, as it hasn’t been opened since they left Iraq.  I try to carefully open it, but instead make a mess of the envelope and rip part of it open because of the heavy camera under my arm I’m trying to keep from crashing to the floor.  I’m completely shocked when I finally see the pictures, showing his half naked father, dead on a canvas tarp and riddled with bullet holes.  His mother sobs quietly in the background and the son turns away until I’m done.  An absolutely overwhelming experience, a tragic but common story, and a devastating photo.

I’ve decided not to post any project related photos until it is complete.  I may post some stories, but I’m now totally focused on getting the project done, done right, and done soon. As far as photos go, I’ll keep posting some of the more trivial trip related photos.

The current plan is another week in Damascus, then a week in Eastern Syria.  By then, Adam and I are hoping to have a complete video done will hopefully take a break to Lebanon and then back to Jordan before I fly home.

The church overlooking Amman

On Monday, I had the opportunity to meet some extremely dedicated individuals who through years of hard work have been able to dramatically change the lives of many Christian refugees from Iraq, both Assyrian and Armenian. I got here through the help of Nuri Kino, an Assyrian-Swedish journalist and documentary filmmaker based in Sweden. In 2007 he wrote an absolutely chilling piece about the status of Christian refugees in Jordan titled, “By God: Six Days In Amman”. And because he is a far better writer than I am, I strongly urge you to read the article. I contacted him for help with my project and he put in touch with Hanna Shamoun, one of the church elders and community leaders devoted to helping the refugees here in Amman.

I met Hanna in the morning and he took me to St. Ephraim’s Syriac Orthodox Church to speak with Father Ammanuel Al-Bana, who has been at the church since 1999. He was new to Amman and before he could get settled and understand the city, the refugees began arriving. With Hanna Shamoun as his right hand man, they set to work and became a center for the displaced Christians of Iraq. At the height of the crisis in 2003, as thousands of Assyrian refugees fled Iraq, they would arrive at the church and the priest’s attached house at all hours of the night with only the bags they carried looking for help.

Per Kino’s account, “One reason for the special situation in Jordan, compared to other countries with Iraqi refugees, is the fact that Jordan has not ratified the UN convention on the right for refugee status from 1951. This means Jordan is not obliged to regard the Iraqis as refugees or give them the rights of refugees.”

As a result, community organizations were the only other place to turn. The refugees often initially stayed in Fr. Al-Bana’s home, with as many as 30 at a time sleeping on couches, floors, and hallways until he could find them a more permanent home. The church also worked with aid organizations to get large amounts (~1000 kg) of food donations (rice, flour, other staples). Fr. Al-Bana turned the church hall into a food distribution center and would re-package these donations into smaller amounts, label them with families’ names, and call them one by one. The church also worked to plug the refugees into other social services, such as Caritas, an German relief organization devoted to social causes around the world, that pays for healthcare services in Amman.

And now? Combined with hard work by Kino and others, three months ago the US and some European nations and began offering visas to the refugees. As a result, hundreds of families have left Jordan in the past three months and the number of refugees was dwindling. At this particular parish, there are approximately 10-15 Assyrian families remaining. Three weeks ago, however, Jordan re-opened its border with Iraq and refugees have begun trickling in again fleeing religious threats and violence in Iraq.

It was truly inspiring to witness firsthand how completely these individuals have dedicated their lives to helping strangers robbed of their homes and homeland. And add me to long list of people that owe Hanna Shamoun deep gratitude. He had a major cardiac bypass 4 months ago and is only now slowly recovering. On our way home, as he struggled to catch his breath walking from the taxi, he revealed that this was the first time since his operation that he had left the house by himself, but felt he had to push himself and take me to the church because of how important it was for others to know about the refugees’ struggles.

Hanna Shamoun

Follow this link to see more photos of the church, mapped to the actual church location.