A Golden Ticket

I snuck into the ceremony late and took a seat in the front on a bench with just enough room for both of my cheeks to squeeze onto.  To my left, sitting in front of parents, relatives, friends and supporters were all of the World University Services Canada (WUSC) graduates.  These individuals earned the highest marks in secondary school, went through a competitive interview process, passed intensive English courses and were lucky enough to receive acceptance into the WUSC program.  The students being honored have been granted full ride scholarships to Canadian universities plus a golden ticket-Canadian citizenship.  The student’s faces all exuded an eager happiness not often found on refugee faces that can otherwise be prematurely aged by the difficulties of camp life.  Dressed in their best attire they were prepared to accept certificates representing months of hard work and an opportunity to begin a new life in a developed country.  We were entertained with traditional and modern dances, poems, songs and speeches from various guests of honor.  The moment everyone anxiously awaited was the announcement of the university and location where each student would be placed.  When the first student was called an eruption of excitement filled the room.  Mothers and fathers rushed forward along with other students to surround the graduate and celebrate this defining moment in their lives.  Film cameras flashed, people were picked up off the ground and small children flailed about in delight not exactly understanding what the commotion was all about.  Student after student was called and the overwhelming emotion in the air brought tears to my eyes.  Knowing the change that awaits them in a few short weeks was hard for me to fathom. 

            

Moving from the boreholes, dirt floors and pit toilets of Dzaleka Refugee Camp to a place where snow falls, good health care is universal and elevators take people to the top of skyscrapers.  No longer will they be faced with waiting for food distribution days, weathering tribal animosity and asking UNHCR for permission to leave the camp premises.  Instead they will receive some of the best education the world has to offer in a democratic country where their potential can be realized.  Unfortunately, they will embark on this journey without their families or relatives and be forced to adapt to a foreign culture while all the while keeping up with the demands of academia.  It will be one of the most challenging experiences of their lives where they will undoubtedly feel the weight of responsibility for the family members they left behind.  Despite the long preparation process, which included cultural and life courses, they have no idea what truly awaits them.  To be in the presence of such a celebration and to witness the life altering change taking place for these students is a memory I will carry with me for a long time to come.

DF: It’s food distribution day at camp which means families will be eating well tonight.  Most have already sold off a portion of their food items in order to purchase soap for washing clothes and other nonperishables to sustain the household.  For some this means a few extra Kwacha in their pockets, perhaps enough to purchase winter jackets, socks or closed toes shoes.  For another small number of people today means enough disposable income to buy beers and/or barbequed meat.  The men who have this luxury are all drinking beers standing outside of my regular lunching spot opposite the butcher’s window and boiling potato pot.  I pull back the lace curtain from the doorway and walk in.  No electricity again today.  I sit next to a woman drinking a beer.  This may not seem like anything out of the ordinary to my readers but to see a woman drinking a beer in public at camp is a BIG deal.  Seeing as it is food distribution day she is indulging in a drink and a lunch out.  A rare and, I’m sure, well deserved treat.  When I offer her one of two goat meat skewers I am eating she declines.  I figured she might like to wash down some meat with her beer but I figured wrong.  What I didn’t know was that she had already ordered six skewers of meet the size of half of a goat and was going to eat like a queen.  When I see the mass quantity of meat placed in front of her and the small smile of satisfaction growing on her face I couldn’t help but feel like I insulted her in some way with my offer.  We make eye contact, I shrug my shoulders, we both laugh.  Touché.  I think I am growing to like food distribution day just as much as everyone else.