Contradictions...

30 November 2015

We live in strange times and we live in a world of contradictions.

On the one hand we have world leaders at an UN climate conference in Paris aiming to limit global warming, Tiger Woods who says he has 'nothing to look forward to' or an uproar about King Filip of the Belgians who was photographed sipping a cocktail at a French spa while Brussels was in the grip of the recent terror alert.

Global warming on its own way is not less important, but sometimes I wonder what the heck is going on with the people who run this world.

Because on the other hand, a few thousand kilometres away, people are fighting for their own life and the lives of family members. People who live in gigantic fear.

Today M. was one of four Syrian aid workers with who I had an appointment for a therapy session. I tried to help each aid worker as much as I could and we also spoke about the future. Their futures.

M. is an attorney and specializes in Civil Law. He was incarcerated by ISIS for assisting refugees. Not only did the war destroy his relationship, his home and his career, but it also destroyed a part of him.

During his session, I realized how incredibly brave M. is. While talking about the future, it became clear his only desire is to move back to the country which brought him so much heartache. He told me about his plans to help rebuild Syria and get his own life back on track. This courageous man moved me deeply.

Today our intervention team welcomed a new member: Olga. Her arrival has given me hope for the aid workers we’ve the privilege working with. When I leave for the Netherlands in a few days’ time, I can rest assured knowing others will continue caring for the aid workers as well. At the moment our intervention team is six men strong: Johara, Maha, Salwa, Olga, Paul and myself.

I am doing fine. Besides caring for traumatized aid workers, we evaluate daily and we keep a close eye on each other.

Adlai Stevenson, American politician and statesman, was quoted saying: "Making peace is harder than making war". I wholeheartedly agree. Peace starts with caring for others, as aid workers do. With the collective power of actions by people like them, people who want to change the world, we will get there.

My Reality

29 November 2015

This morning I woke up at 05:30AM. Looking out of the window of my hotel room on the fourth floor , I noticed it was raining.

The road passing by the hotel was deserted at this early hour of the morning. This in sharp contrast with all the commotion, large crowds and lots of traffic yesterday during the protest.

All of a sudden I heard the sound of a siren. Scanning the streets, I saw an ambulance with lights flashing making its way to the freeway at high speed. 

I actually held my breath to brace myself for memories of the young boy with the refuse bag I saw in town yesterday. I was wondering where he would be right now. Safe at home with his parents, or…? And I asked myself which is worse: the war or the fear of it.

A therapy session with an aid worker this morning, left me pondering even more and I formed my thoughts with care. Thoughts about leaving for the Netherlands in a few days’ time and going “back to the order of the day”. But what exactly is the order of the day? Is it another reality? But which or whose reality, where and when?  Does reality exist? I guess everybody has his or her own reality at any given time and place. I will have to accept and let go. But for now my reality is in Gaziantep helping traumatised aid workers.

Tomorrow is going to be a busy day with four therapy sessions planned. I was therefor happy to experience some of the Turkish culture and visit the  Zeugma Mosaic Museum this afternoon. It is the biggest mosaic museum in the world and is situated right here in Gaziantep.

From a distinctly different reality I bit you goodnight.

A relaxing afternoon

28 November  2015

Today the effects of the unrest in the region were also felt in Gaziantep.
This shortly after a prominent lawyer and human rights defender, who faced a criminal charge for supporting Kurdish rebels, was killed in an attack in Diyarbakir, south-east Turkey. Tahir Elci was shot while he was making a press statement.

A protest broke out shortly afterwards in Gaziantep about 500 metres from our hotel. A large crowd started gathering denouncing the killing. The finer details of the killing and the protest I did not know at this time. Beside some yelling and speeches, which I of course could not understand, it seemed to be a peaceful protest.

Police officers and two special units kept a watchful eye on the protesters. We saw a water canon which was kept on standby should the protest get out of hand, but we were able to safely leave our hotel to go and enjoy a free afternoon. I later learned that the crowd had dispersed peacefully while we were away.

The intervention team and I spent the afternoon in the city centre, doing some shopping and relaxing.

During this afternoon I tried not to be occupied by thoughts of work and war. I did relax but the protest close to our hotel and a young boy roaming the city streets all by himself, made it hard to forget.

The boy, I guess about 8 years old, was strolling through the centre carrying a black refuge bag over his shoulder.  He was picking up garbage from the streets and some people passing by handed him money.

Later a Turkish man tried to explain to me what the protest was all about and why more and more people were gathering on the streets. It was hard communicating as he couldn’t speak English and I don’t speak his language. I didn’t understand much of what he said. I think he knew, because instead he showed me a video on You Tube of the shooting earlier that day.

After this clumsy conversation, I kept thinking about the young boy. I was wondering what the rest of his life will be like and if this war will ever end.

Although St Augustine* wrote that "the purpose of all war, is peace", at the end of the first week of my mission, I can’t help but thinking “what is the case with this war?”

(* St Augustine - Ancient Roman Christian Theologian and Bishop of Hippo from 396 to 430)

Don't give up on Syria

27 November 2015

The ongoing conflict in Syria has led to millions of Syrian people being displaced. Assisting refugees scattered in the region, can take a horrible toll on one's psyche, as it has on one aid worker.

À. was working in the oil branch in Syria, before his area became the stronghold of the Islamic State. As the civil war escalated and life became more dangerous, he choose to become a humanitarian aid worker helping his own people on the run for atrocities. He was captured by ISIS and detained for his humanitarian relief efforts.

I cannot mention his name, out of fear for punishment or repercussions for himself or his family members. It is believed ISIS constantly keeps an eye on him and other aid workers. They are wanted by ISIS and helping others can become their death sentence. I have noticed that the Syrian staff working for World Vision still feel unsafe, and live in constant terror in this troubled region.

My job is to help À .find a way to deal with the demons that haunt him from serving fellow humans as he is suffering from the psychological consequences. In limited time and during a war which has so far achieved nothing except bloodshed.

His story during his therapy session today, has left me speechless. His experiences during detention are indescribable. So I'm not even going to try and write these down. Words will fall short in describing the pain and suffering endured by this individual. Instead I salute his perseverance and willingness to continue his humanitarian work in an extremely violent setting.

My concern right now is that I only have little time to help him and his colleagues. This lack of time and their reality of an ongoing war situation limits comprehensive psychological treatment methods. Helping people to mitigate the effects of their traumas is pretty much all we can do.

Despite the suffering of fellow aid workers, life goes on and we concluded the day celebrating the birthday of a colleague. Personally I am doing well, and tonight I am grateful for not living in a war-torn country. I will never be able to grasp the pain people inflict on each other. As I settle in for the night I am looking forward to a free afternoon tomorrow. My thought before going to sleep is that we cannot give up on Syria. And we must certainly not give up on aid workers.

The horrors of war

24 November 2015

After my journey to Turkey, only encountering some delay in Istanbul, I have settled in quite nicely.  The journey was easier than I expected and already  far more rewarding than I imagined. Gaziantep has a population of about 2,000,000 people, half of which are Syrians. One-by-one helpful residents who simply want to be kind. The city of Gaziantep is  situated some 97 kilometres north of Aleppo, but I don’t notice much of the war in Syria. Besides a large police presence on the highways  and tight security at shopping malls, hotels and public places the war might as well be in a country far away from here. So I feel safe and protected.

Many and most stories of the Syrian Civil War will never be told. A relaxed smoke break however turned instantly into a surreal moment when a  Syrian aid worker spontaneously started telling me about his detention by ISIS for several months.  Outside on a small balcony this young man gave me the full picture of the awfulness of war. Some things he experienced and saw, he will never forget. He was grateful for me being there, and I am grateful for being able to help him and so many others devastated by the horrors of war.

Momentarily my thoughts are occupied with what the intervention team and I have to expect,  and how we can help as many people such as the young Syrian I spoke to on that balcony, in a relatively short period of time. I am a trained trauma psychologist and so many people desperately need our help.  I am going to do the best I can. Our team consists of an Australian psychologist, two Arabic speaking crisis interventionists from Lebanon and Jordan, a mission leader and myself.  Most of us speak English however, so we get by. The last few days our team has been busy with intake interviews, safety briefings and setting up a plan of action.

After the initial intake interviews I expect many of the traumatised aid workers we spoke to want to be treated. Despite my heavy workload and responsibilities back at home in the Netherlands, it feels good to be here and to do my bit in a place which left, and will still leave, so many scarred for life.  

“Toerist” zonder camera

21 november 2015

Vandaag stond ik in een lift van luchthaven Schiphol in Amsterdam. Samen met een toerist stapte ik in. Hij lachte naar me. Hij zag eruit als een echte toerist met de camera die om zijn nek bungelde. "Onderweg naar een exotische vakantiebestemming, dacht ik: Miami, Havana of Mexico." Ik daarentegen was onderweg naar Gaziantep in het zuidoosten van Turkije - niet ver van de grens met Syrië.

Ik ben onderweg om hulp te verlenen aan de hulpverleners van de oorlogsslachtoffers uit en in Syrië . Iets anders dan heerlijk zonnen op de witte stranden van Miami, salsa dansen in de levendige straten van Havana of de grootse Maya-tempels bezoeken in Mexico.

Het werkelijke  aantal slachtoffers van de burgeroorlog in Syrië is niet te tellen. Miljoenen mensen hebben voedsel, drinkwater, sanitaire voorzieningen, medische zorg en psychische hulp nodig. Mensen met traumatische oorlogservaringen. Deze hulp word verleend door humanitaire hulpverleners, waaronder artsen en psychologen.  De kans is dus groot dat deze hulpverleners tweedehands getuige zijn van de gruwelijke wreedheden die deze oorlogsslachtoffers meegemaakt hebben of  zij zijn zelf slachtoffers van traumatische ervaringen. Om deze trauma’s de baas te kunnen en langdurige psychische schade te voorkomen hebben ook hulpverleners hulpverlening nodig. Daarom ben ik uitgenodigd door de organisatie World Vision en nu waakzaam en wijs op reis.

Natuurlijk heb ik voor mijn vertrek de actualiteiten van de burgeroorlog in Syrië op de voet gevolgd. De oorlog zorgt voor spanning in het grensgebied met Turkije, een gebied  gekenmerkt door een hoge concentratie van Syrische vluchtelingen. In Gaziantep, in de volksmond kortweg ‘Antep', zou het betrekkelijk veilig moeten zijn. Ik hoop het van harte.

In de gelijknamige provincie Gaziantep  komen wel gewelddadige demonstraties, wegblokkades, gewapende confrontaties en soms aanslagen voor. Langs de Turks-Syrische grens is het niet veilig en in dit gebied zou ik zelfs ontvoerd kunnen worden volgens het reisadvies van de Rijksoverheid. Eerlijk gezegd is dat iets waar ik liever niet te veel over nadenk. Ik heb mij voorbereid op de veiligheidsrisico’s en vooral nu blijf ik natuurlijk op hoogte van de ontwikkelingen alhier.

Ik wil deze oorlog snappen, er iets in betekenen en niet alleen vanuit Nederland heel simpel volgen. En dat ga ik de komende twee weken hier  in Antep doen door hulp te verlenen aan hulpverleners.

Aan het einde van dag een, intussen ‘safe’ in mijn hotel, ben ik nogmaals onder de indruk van de belangrijke taak die op mij en andere psychologen wacht. Ik ben er stil van, maar ik denk toch even aan de toerist in de lift vanochtend: ik hoop dat ook hij veilig is aangekomen op zijn bestemming.