A Land at War
The heat was the first thing I noticed as I stepped off the plane into Iraq. Growing up in the southern region of the US and living in Laos has helped me tolerate heat fairly well but never believe someone who tells you 108′F is no big deal. That’s hot. We had a full two days to adjust to our new surroundings before teaching began and it was a strange time. It was surreal to stand in a country so often in the news for war and bombings and yet see normal people go about their normal lives. Cars drove by as people headed home from work. Families shopped for food at stores. Friends grabbed a bite to eat at the local shawarma shops.
Driving into the refugee camp, however, was a stark reminder of the reality that Iraq faces very day. This is a land at war. In the confines of this camp were 18,000 people who for the past two years had not seen their homes. They had been completely driven from of any kind of lifestyle that would feel normal to them. It was an orderly and clean camp but that doesn’t change the harshness of knowing that each tent held a family completely uprooted from their way of life.
What am I supposed to do here?
Walking into my classroom for the first time was overwhelming. Before me sat 20+ nervous, pre-teen students and it became all too clear that their knowledge of English pretty much matched my knowledge of their own language. Teaching them English was going to be hard but I already knew that. What I didn’t know was the emotional weight that was going to come with teaching them.
The three hours I spent in that classroom that first day filled me with despair.
“What in the world am I doing here?”
“Even if I can teach them English, what good will come of it? These kids need a home, not a summer English course.”
I began to think there was no way I could face these kids for a month. Every time I looked at them I imagined what they must have gone through and I would remember what I was doing when I was a pre-teen. The comparison was almost too big to imagine.
I sat in my hotel room that first night knowing I had made a mistake. How silly of me to think that I could come into their country and do anything that might help these people.
Then my heart changed.
I was reminded that night of something that had been a life-changing force in my own life and I realized it was the only thing that could bring anything of value to these people. I was there to teach English, yes, but I was there to give something so much more important. I was there to show love. Simple? Yes, but so very powerful.
I knew that I had to show the kids in my classroom love above anything else. Why? Because these kids had seen more evil than any person should ever have to see. They had seen evil in a real, life-threatening way. An evil that had literally ripped them from their homes only for them to escape and find a world that would turn their backs on them. Despite seeing their pain more clearly than ever before, the world as a whole had sent a message to them that they were not wanted or care for. They would be forgotten.
I knew what I was supposed to do for my month in Iraq. I had a chance to remind these kids that there is good in this world. There still is love even for each one of them. Despite all they had seen, evil had not won.
