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. . At
a Camp in Macedonia
It was my first day, getting
ready to perform what would turn out to be fifteen magic shows in camps around
Macedonia and Kosovo, the beginning of a week that would be a heart-opening and
heart-breaking journey into the world of refugees. They would no longer be
the fleeting twenty second images on CNN. I
was picked up at a café in downtown Skopje by Marcin and Anna, two earnest,
enthusiastic, twentysomething young people who work for an NGO called Balkan
Sunflowers. Marcin is from Poland, Anna from New Zealand. They work
with the children in some of the refugee camps. We were going to a camp
called Momenpotak, a camp for Roma people -- a people we usually refer to as
'gypsies', a term which they consider derogatory. The Roma were driven out
of Kosovo three years ago by the Serbs and have been in camps in Macedonia ever
since. Momenpotak is
outside the town of Shutka, about half an hour from Skopje. We passed
through Shutka and headed north through a garbage dump. Children and dogs
were rummaging through the garbage looking ofr God knows what. We arrived
at the camp, which was at the edge of the dump, and it was difficult to tell
where the dump ended and the camp began.
The
camp was a collection of patched-together structures made of corrugated sheets
of metal, plywood, cloth, cardboard, flattened-out tin cans, whatever would keep
out the elements and provide a measure of privacy. Marcin rattled on a
sheet of corrugated metal that turned out to be a door. A little girl
poked her head out, big beautiful brown Roma eyes looked up at me. This
was five year old Fatima who became my guide and magician's assistant for the
next hour and a half while I was there in Momenpotak. There
was a clearing in the midst of the camp with pallets laid side by side and
covered with a UNHCR blue and white tarp -- the United Nations High Commission
for Refugees. This was where Marcin and Anna gathered gathered with the
children to play games and teach them Math and English. It became my
performance space. Marcin found me an old foot stool for a table which I
covered with my table cloth and within ten minutes there were fifty or so adults
and children gathered for the magic show. Fatima was bright and delightful
as she helped me during the show and got other children to help as volunteers.
The show
lasted about an hour and was wonderfully received by these smiling, laughing
Roma, who almost never leave the camp and have little or nothing that might be
called entertainment. Afterward, as I was heading back to the car, a
number of the Roma women wanted to be photographed with the magician. We
stopped and took lots of pictures. But I did not see Fatima, and I felt
badly that I might not get to thank her and say goodbye. I had fallen
madly in love. Eventually,
we continued on and finally arrived at the car. There was Fatima, sitting
in the back seat, ready to run away with the magician. I hesitated.
I was concerned. But after a moment, I began to wonder what what her hopes
were, what she was thinking. A few Roma women were present, and one of
them, who looked almost Ethiopian, went over to Fatima and began to talk to
her. Her voice was soft, so I could hear, but I didn't understand what she
was saying. The next thing I knew, Fatima was out of the car. Marcin
told me that the woman simply explained to Fatima that I had to go, and that she
had to come back to the camp with the others. Fatima
and I said our goodbyes and we headed off down the road, to the next magic
show. When I turned back to look, the last thing I saw was Fatima, waving
me on my way. ... Tom
Verner has been a therapist and a faculty member at Burlington
College. He currently works as a magician. He performed this summer
at the Addison County Fair & Field Days, and is currently visiting the
refugee camps in Bosnia and Kosovo. He lives with his daughter Mira in
Lincoln. [Ed.
Note: Tom Verner went to Kosovo and Macedonia back in October.
Before he left, we asked him if he would be willing to tell us about his
experiences when he returned. This piece, then, is the first of several
about his trip, and is also the first in a multi-part series about Children and
War, part of our on-going Special
Report on Terrorism and the War to End It.] . ******* ******* If you would like to submit something for our Living Together section, don't hesitate to let us know. Simply e-mail us at livingtogether@downstreetmagazine.com. The e-mail should contain your name, address, and a phone number where we can reach you. You may also send a copy of your proposed article. The text can either be included in the body of the e-mail, or you can send it as an attachment in just about any word processing format. If your piece is accepted, we will pay a small honorarium for your interest & your time. [See Freelancers Wanted for more details.] ******* ******* If you would like to advertise in this section, or throughout the magazine, please visit our Advertising Info Pages ... or call, write, or e-mail ads@downstreetmagazine.com. ******* ******* |
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