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  World Peace Youth Camp

   
 
 
 

 

Youth World Peace Camp

 
 Day 4
 

 


Day 4 in Madaba started with sun salutation. Some of us decided to start this long day with yoga lessons. Thereís a surprise for breakfast: our Jordanian friends offer us some hummus. Suddenly, we heard our yellow buses honking, reminding us that itís time to get down to work. Our destination is the Latin School, where we will create a mural on the wall in front of the church of Saint John. Hands full of color, paint jar that slowly become empty, the rhythm of the drums of the scoutsí orchestra, and some kids making noise are what accompany us in the creation of our own Cappella Sistina, our mural. We are feeling like Michelangelo, if it werenít for our hands that, at the end of the day, are almost burnt by the solvent that we use to clean us. We cool off a little bit with a cold red fruit slush that Yazan, one of the Caritas Jordan operators, gifts us. This experience was a great opportunity to express our creativity and to get to know each other better.

We just have the time to recharge our batteries with a filling lunch and we get back on track. This afternoon, as the Jordanian culture requires, our bus was not reliable: we get lost in the traffic, surpassing cars as it was a race, but we finally arrive at our destination. A Syrian man, father of four children, is waiting for us. He canít work, for he has a bullet in his right hand. This meeting with us was the familyís first contact with non-Syrian people. But after a very short time, the wife decides to retire to her room, because she is no more able to tell her story. We are here, with just a cigarette, a hot tea, a story ready to be heard. In another house in Madaba, sitting on the cushions of a living room, another family welcomes us and starts their story telling us how they left Syrian, after a long journey, trying to find back roads to not be found and killed. Normally a trip like this would take almost one hour. The children are playing. The fatherís voice, the only narrator of this story, combines with ours. As we say goodbye, from the womanís burka, worn just for the time to take a picture together, we can only see her beautiful eyes. Our next destination is a school, where we met a little girl that leads us to the entry door of her home. A family of eight welcomes us. The father would do everything for the best of his children, but he doesnít have a job. Tears are streaming down his face as he thinks how things change. Before the crisis he was hosting the sister, married in Jordan, in his house in Syria. Now he is the one to have found help in a country on the other side of the border.La vida es un carro sue viene y va. There are so many feelings that we need to express. Before going to sleep we gather all: each of us writes on a paper glass the word that best represents what we are feeling in this moment. Liberty, Humanity, Responsibility. We fill up our glasses with water, and we pour it in a container. Every single water drop is the symbol of our effort to make the difference in the world that we want.

 

 Irra, Agnese, Davide, Chiara e Lorenza
 

 

 

 
 
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