I've received many questions from friends around the world since moving to Bangladesh: "Is it hot there?", "Where are you staying?", "Are you working with good people", "What's the food like?", etc... most of which are pretty easy to answer: "Yes, it's hot", "In an apartment", "Yes, they're all awesome", "rice, veggies, fruit, chapati, nutella, and more rice.". But the most common question I get asked, and honestly, the one that has been the most difficult to answer thus far is: "So, what exactly are you doing there?"
It's something I've been struggling to figure out myself since the day I was interviewed for this position. I mean, I had a general idea of what I would be doing, and knew that my position was a "health manager", but the description on the website was vague and used phrases like: "in close collaboration with...", "continuously monitor...", and "provide input...". To be honest, I really didn't know what I was going to be doing when I accepted this position. And even though I went through my briefing week at headquarters, when I walked into the office on the first day I still felt like I was Harry Potter standing between platform 9 and 10 wondering what on earth I was supposed to do.
It's been a little over a week here now, and every day I feel like I'm getting closer to answering that question. What I know so far is this:
There is a lot of rain in Bangladesh - which is why it's actually called "monsoon season" here
Flooding here is very common, as are cyclones
There are close to 1 million Rohingyan refugees from Myanmar living all over an area of egg carton-like terrain: their bamboo and tarpaulin homes crammed together on tops of hills, on the bottoms of hills, and on the hills themselves
It is anticipated that the combination of (2) and (3) will lead to landslides, mass displacements of already vulnerable people, the potential for mass casualities, and the need for trained mobile medical teams, able to respond to immediate health needs in any given disaster or emergency that may arise in the camps
Number 4 is where I come in. I am currently part of the team organizing those mobile medical teams. My organization has 3 teams of health care professionals ready to deploy when we receive a call for help, and it's my job to manage them. I have an amazing crew of national staff who comprise these teams, and an awesome group of international staff who help me with figuring it all out (or who I help... however you want to look at it... we're a big happy team). Our mobile medical teams are out in the camp every day, and they're an absolute joy to work with, teach, and learn from (and it looks like I'm learning Bengali
instead of Spanish now). I'm beyond excited to have the opportunity to get to know them and to see the difference they are making, and will make, in the lives of some of the most vulnerable people in the world.
All our teams (and many, many more that are on stand-by) go through training to prepare themselves for the possibility of what's to come, and this week I've had the opportunity to observe a week of this training. Not only has the course been interesting, but it's also given me the privilege of meeting some pretty cool people. One of those people has been Lisa. She's a British paramedic who has worked all over the world in some of the most incredible, and heartbreaking, situations. She's just one of those amazing hard-core women that you want to be like, and wish you could do what she does. Oh, and in her spare time at home she's one of the on-set paramedics for Warner Brothers and regularly rubs shoulders with Johnny Depp and Jude Law on the set of "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them" and even has her own personalized wand!! But today she shared something with me that struck a chord, so I want to share it with you too. It was a poem that she wrote for World Refugee Day, and something that I know I will re-read over and over, that will serve as motivation on those days where I'm really struggling and wondering why I've given up hot showers, a soft bed, and the ability to wear t-shirts without a long-sleeve over it. Because every life is precious, and every person deserves to feel how loved they are, regardless of their circumstances.
"A refugee, is that me?
Am I part of a displaced majority?
Born in a place surrounded by borders,
Bound by rules, regulations and orders.
Fleeing familiarity, facing disparity
Searching for hope and some sort of clarity.
Does location or family define our home,
Or is it just the body in which we roam?
Home to me is where my heart beats
and my heart is where a different smile meets
mine with warmth and sharing of greetings
friends with kind words in gatherings or
meetings
A refugee is someone like you, not just me
in every corner of the world you will see
We are not different, merely all the same
Trying to exist not looking to blame
others for disruption and ostracisation
We are ALL refugees living in one nation!"
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