Middlebury College Stages Refugee Camp Simulation

Author: Charlie Goulding

Last Saturday, while many students supported Middlebury's athletic teams, rehearsed for an upcoming play, or simply basked in the clement weather, over 100 people partook in Middlebury's very first Refugee Camp Simulation. The simulation, which took place from 3 p.m. to 8 p.m, was designed to promote awareness of one of the world's most enduring crises through means of vicariously experiencing the life of a refugee.
3:02 p.m. A line of 20 people extends around the upper periphery of Kenyon Arena. The simulation itself, located on floor level of the arena, looks highly decorated yet sparse at the same time. Few people scatter the spacious floor. The white tent at the far end of the rink with a large red cross on the outside stands out as the central component. Still, a long line separates us from the rink below and all one can do is muse whether each sock will count toward the 15 item limit explicated on the Web site. "I wonder how hardcore they're gonna be about this?" the guy ahead of me asks.
The genesis of the idea for a simulation dates back to spring of last year when Brian Hoyer '04 and Kristina Rudd '04 both enrolled in a study abroad program in Northern Uganda, a country which -along with its northern neighbor the Sudan - is saturated with displaced peoples. During their time in the program, Hoyer and Rudd became increasingly aware of the refugee and humanitarian crisis plaguing the region, and felt increasingly compelled to disseminate that awareness back at Middlebury.
3:17 p.m. The line for females is four times as long as the line for males. I reach the registration desk quickly and am handed a small slip of paper. I am Makercot Garang. I am 28. I am a Sudanese ex-student forced to flee my home after the civil war destroyed my farm. I am the eldest of eight children and my mother is sickly. All have accompanied me to the camp.
The camp I am entering is located in Sudan, making me an internally displaced person within my own country.
The woman behind the desk hands me a "Basic Data/Registration form." The form is two pages worth of questions, front and back, and it looks painfully long. I find a place to sit and begin writing. Name: Charlie Goulding. Education: Middlebury College student. It takes me fifteen minutes before I realize the registration form is to be filled out using the information on my card-I am Makercot, not Charlie. I laugh out loud and tell Steve Schmidt, the St. Michael's student next to me, about my stupidity. He realizes he has done the same thing. It dawns on us that this mistake may not have been intended on the part of the organizers, but we cannot yet confirm this suspicion.
The first step in this process was a Winter Term workshop, run by Hoyer, in which participants helped conceive and develop the Simulation. Hoyer envisioned the simulation as a hands-on, effective method in promoting awareness of the daily struggles of refugees. Hoyer and his 15 volunteers modeled the simulation from groups such as the Canadian-based 24 Hour Exile agency.
3:32 p.m. An aura of confusion and bureaucracy hovers over the entire registration zone. When I go to submit my form, I must wait on line again at another table. When I reach the desk, a woman asks me the names of my siblings. "But it doesn't say on the sheet you guys gave me." "You don't know the names of your family members, Sir?" "No, it's just that... I... you know, I mean..." At this point I am confronted with a decision. Do I embarrass myself trying to rattle off seven painfully un-Sudanese sounding names for my siblings, or do I risk greater ridicule by taking the ignorant way out? "Bob-24. Jim-19. Mary-16..." In this sense, the organizers have created a sense of bureaucracy by playing off of the potential misunderstandings of their participants. In a small way, this tactic deftly bridges the gap between Middlebury simulation and an actual camp. The real experience still awaits, however.
Much research went into the planning of the simulation, and permeated the camp itself. "There are 15 million refugees worldwide," one poster read. Inside the medical tent, a sign on the pillow of one of the three sickbeds said "Malnourishment is the leading cause of death among children under five and threatens 800 million worldwide." The medical tent also contained other descriptive items such as a basket of condoms to indicate the need for drastic improvements in AIDS prevention.
4:06 p.m. I have left my stuff in my mattress-sized plot. This rectangular space exists amongst of grid spaces, each designated for a person or family of persons. The grid takes up the entire first half of the rink, the periphery of which is lined with overhead projectors, each projecting a candid photo from a refugee camp onto the surrounding glass wall. The same girl who led me to my grid now escorts an 11-year-old boy wearing OshGosh B'gosh overalls with the same austerity and detachment as she did me. "Do not misplace your meal ticket. If you misplace your meal ticket, you will not be permitted to eat dinner." Clothing lines run across the rink, draped with garments. African music plays softly from the Kenyon sound system. Freeman White '03 hasn't emerged from a pseudo-meditative trance within his plot in 20 minutes.
The final tally of simulation participants slightly exceeded 100. The level of participation was "good for now," said Hoyer. "I was very happy with the number, though it would have helped to have had a few more people." Females outnumbered males by a ratio of roughly three to one, and the participants were of a diverse range of backgrounds and ages. Steve Schmidt, Ryan McGrath and Maria Costas came from St. Michael's College as part of an anthropology class. Deb Hogan and her ten-year-old son Chris heard about the camp in one of the local papers, and Stacie Blake, director of a local refugee resettlement program, spoke enthusiastically about the camp while her husband William appeared to have been dragged there against his will.
4:59 p.m. Tedium has set in. Two four-square courts have been set up. The games have an awkward feel since no one really knows one another, and no one really plays hard for fear of distinguishing himself in a negative way. Other groups sit in circles and talk quietly amongst themselves. At one point the playing of four-square is prohibited, and though this sounds trivial, the game was a needed respite from boredom. The arbitrary decision to stop the game reminds us our powerlessness and also hints at the unpredictability of what a real camp must be like.
The medical tent is surrounded to one side by an information stand which breaks up the world into regions and provides detailed information of each region's refugee status. The Middle East, middle Africa and parts of Asia contain the highest densities of refugees. In particular, Palestinians and Afghanis constitute the largest numbers of refugees, followed closely by the Sudanese, Ugandan and Burundi. A television set up next to the information stand repeats a 60 Minutes special on a group of Sudanese refugees dubbed "Lost Boys," all awaiting relocation to the United States.
Nicha Rakpanichmanee '05 thought the camp "was a fabulous idea." She did not particularly associate herself with activism, and was drawn more on the merits of the camp alone, not prior political affiliations. Another participant added, "Although I'm definitely feeling the discrepancy between Kenyon and a real camp, this is where it starts. Already I'm overwhelmed with how much is wrong with these camps worldwide. We need to start with awareness. This simulation is a good starting place; an important starting place."
5:15 p.m. When the PA system announces meal time, the refugees flock to the dinner line. Dinner consists of rice and bottled water. No utensils are offered though White has stationed himself at the base of the line and offers to trade food for one of his spoons. Surprisingly, many take him up on the offer. The food is unsurpris
ingly bland. The label on the water explains that "in the initial phase of an emergency, this may be all you receive [per day], as aid agencies struggle to find resources of water and to transport it." Groups formulate circles and socialize during mealtime and then recommence playing soccer and cards.
Role playing is an important part of the simulation. A man posing as a CNN reporter went around cajoling people into giving him their meal tickets. The student organizers, identified by their light blue shirts, stressed the importance of not breaking character for the duration of the simulation. Such role playing, and the frequent element of trickery involved, underscored an important facet of refugee life: the importance of trust and the constant potential for manipulation and deceit.
6:30 p.m. The entire camp gathers behind the medical tent to listen to the two guest speakers of the simulation. The first speaker, Allison Anderson Pillsbury, works for the Women's Commission for Refugee Women and Children, and has particularly focused on researching adolescent experiences within the refugee camp, using that research to support her advocacy. The second speaker, Hiram A. Ruiz is the director of communication for the U.S. Committee for Refugees, and has focused on internally displaced peoples in 35 countries.
Pillsbury supplemented her presentation with a slide show. Her talk depicted the often horrific plight of women and adolescent camp members. Gender-based violence, rape, poor education and a sense of hopelessness permeate refugee camps worldwide. Pillsbury pointed to the need for strong community support and improved education as the key to bettering the lives of refugees. She also called attention to the remarkable resiliency of adolescent refugees, who she believes must be utilized to their fullest capacities, and must be allowed to partake in the decision making process that occurs within a camp.
Ruiz began with an explanation of what it means to be a refugee. As defined by the 1951 U.N. Convention relating to the Status of Refugees, a refugee is a person "owing to a well-founded fear of being persecuted for reasons of race, religion, nationality, membership of a particular social group, or political opinion, is outside the country of his nationality, and is unable to or, owing to such fear, is unwilling to avail himself of the protection of that country."
This definition is critical, according to Ruiz, in that one must present a demonstrated fear in order to "qualify" as a refugee under the convention. Indeed, Ruiz went on to illustrate the culture of fear which pervades refugee camps. "Being a refugee is about fear. It's the unpredictability of it all that couldn't possibly be recaptured or simulated that really makes these camps what they are. Many stay in limbo for decades."
In the question and answer session, the question arose of what could some in the audience do to ameliorate the refugee situation. Ruiz identified a number of activist career paths, including irrigation specialists, development specialists, volunteer work and think-tank advocacy. Pillsbury also made reference to advocacy in relation to immigration policies. The United States is the largest acceptor of refugees, relocating 48,600 in 2001 alone. That number has been cut in half since Sept. 11, 2001, however, and many feel an injustice has been done to refugees worldwide: "Screening for refugees in terms of immigration is a long process that takes months. Applicants are narrowed down to a very small percentage," added Hoyer.
8:00 p.m. It was time to go home. The option of staying the night was offered to us, but no one accepted. We had had enough. Hoyer congratulated his coworkers and guest speakers on their work, and Hoyer himself received much applause. A remarkable amount of effort and organization went into the simulation, and it showed.
"I thought it was a great success," Hoyer declared with enthusiasm, "largely because of the help of a great group of people." That group included Paloma Hagedorn-Woo '05, Sarah Tomeo '04 and Edith Honan '03.5.
Hoyer continued, "At first when I saw the huge rink, I thought 'how are we going to do this?' But the moment people started lining up, waiting patiently to get in, that's when I knew 'this is going to work.'" In response to a sentiment on campus that the simulation would be ineffective in catalyzing any real change, Hoyer responded, "First, I would say, come and see. When someone experiences something for himself, that's when they can decide. I think most thought it was a helpful, worthwhile experience." Few who went would disagree with him.