Stories from the Sahara

What is a refugee?

2012-02-23T16:47:00.000+01:00

We have nowspent five months in the camp and all three of us now better grasp the meaningof the ‘very cold nights’. The houses and tents are obviously not insulated andthus the temperature is the same inside and outside- around 10 degrees atnight. We are very thankful for our woollen jumper and the warm sleeping bags webrought from Norway however the sleeping bag has also created a source ofdiscussion in my family. In a good way that is.

Oneespecially cold night when I decided to crawl up in my sleeping bag, myhost-sisters started questioning the bag in itself. Why did I bring it whensleeping bags are ‘only’ used for mountaineering and remote cabin trips? I tried to explain in a mix of Hassaneya,Arabic, Spanish, English and body language that I prepared for a refugee camp,not the castle I live in. I my mind I packed for ‘a worst-case-scenario’, acold place where blankets would be a luxury, where toilets would be locatedbehind sand dunes, where good food would be a treat and soap only placed thebig supermarket in Algeria- 300 kilometres away.

As youprobably have understood, my family enjoys a big house with washing facilities,a large kitchen and enough batteries to light up the house at night. Thestandard of living varies from family to family, and as my host-sister neatlyput it when I asked what the next volunteers should bring: ‘if you live with agood family, you don’t need anything’. Our little discussion, which ended upwith two giggling Saharawi girls and a very confused Norwegian made me startthinking. What is really a refugee?

Newsreports from Somalia and aid commercials with starving children with big eyeshave contributed to my perhaps very ‘Westernised’ image of a refugee camp. However,to my experience, being a refugee doesn’t necessarily equal dirt and poverty.India has for many years hosted refugees from Tibet, and despite the fact manyof them have settled in their new home country, they still hold a refugeestatus. Consequently, the debate of removing someone’s refugee titles emerges. Whendo we stop calling a people or individuals a refugee? Does it depend on time,wealth or the political situation? And perhaps more importantly, who has theright to give and to remove such titles? Now, it is important to notice that Iam not referring to the situation in the Sahara Desert and I do not implyanywhere that the humanitarian aid to the camps has to be stopped. It is rathera mix of thoughts which have come to my mind after spending time with my familyand students.

Ipersonally find the refugee debate difficult to address and even more so afterhaving developed close connections with my host-family and friends. If we are to give titles and thus rights to acertain people, do we then classify them? Do we have ‘super-refugees’ on theHorn of Africa and lower class refugees from conflicts more than 40 years old?Or are all refugees entitled to the same rights and aid, no matter their economicincome or time constraints?

I am notconvinced that these questions can ever be answered. In the Saharawi case, thepeople will never stop calling themselves refugees until they have moved backto their country of Western Sahara, free from Morocco’s occupation and humanrights abuses. Until then, the Sahara desert will always be scattered withtents and sand houses, filled with tolerant Saharawis, patiently waiting fortheir day of freedom. And they will continue to encounter odd Norwegian habits and their sleeping bags.

A Day in the Life

2012-02-23T16:37:00.001+01:00

I think the best way to illustrate what a normal day looks like for us is by song. And what better song to show a normal day in our lives than the Beatles' "A Day in the Life". You'll notice that the wording has been adapted a bit to fit our situation. I recommend you read it with the music (if you don't have the song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P-Q9D4dcYng):

‘A day in the life’ in refugee camps in the Sahara

I tried to run today o boy,
It wasn’t popular - I went alone,
And though the run was rather short,
Well they just had to join
It wasn’t really all bad
The guy they sent was pretty nice,
He spoke Spanish and that broke the ice,
Lots of people stared at us,
They’d not seen my face,
Nobody was really sure that I was not kiiiiidnaaapped

I tried to teach today o boy,
The English language is on floor and door,
All my students turned away,
But I just had to teach,
Thinking it’s OK

I’d love to show you

Woke up,
Got off the floor,
Feeling frozen to the core,
Found the way to the tent and drank 3 cups,
And sitting in the sun I started heating up,
ha ha ha ha
Found my da’raa and grabbed my turban,
Made the walk in minutes flat,
Found my way inside and had a blast
And somebody spoke [English] and I went into a dream.

I went to Arabic o boy
28 characters you have to know
And though there aren’t very many,
We had to know them all,
Now we know the characters of the entire Arabic alphabet.

I’d love to show you.

Boy meets girl

2012-02-16T17:42:00.003+01:00

Love is as exciting, disappointing and confusing here as in all countries. However the traditions here are quite different from what I am used to. As I am writing this, I sit a mere meter away from a typical stage before getting married, and I have first-hand information of how you get married. My aunt has talked on the phone with a man for 6 months, and this week she finally met him for the first time. At the moment I am witness to their third date, which beats even Napoleon Dynamite in awkwardness. I wonder if it is as embarrassing to them as it is to me…

Last time he brought his friend. One could imagine it an improvement, however it simply meant I could enjoy the company of not only one sad bachelor, but two. They looked miserably down at the floor, ignoring my small talk. The only answer I got, after a lot of frustrated looks at my family, was their names. (And confusingly enough they were called the same!) And no one else in the family talked to them either. The young men didn’t even smile. They looked as is if they wanted to be anywhere else but here. I couldn’t believe how this young man actually wanted to marry my aunt. Where were the longing eyes or the secret smiles? The best part was the fact that my aunt was faced the other way. Not looking in his direction. I asked myself if they were both terribly shy or if this was a part of the culture I did not understand.

I quickly learned that, in order to respect potential fiancés family, you don’t look at any family members and you don’t talk if the family is present. A more religious way of falling in love is to not meet your fiancé at all. Your families talk, but you don’t. Before the wedding that is.

Respect is the reason why husbands don’t talk to his father-in-law and the reason why you are shy in the presence of older people. In order to avoid shameful situations a husband could (potentially) jump out the window or cover their face if the father-in-law enters the room.

Getting married

Step one: meet a girl/boy or a cousin
Step two: Get persons phone number
Step three: When you feel like you know this person you can meet the family
Step four: Eat dinner with her family
Step five: Ask her to marry
Step six: Make your family ask her family if you can get married
Step seven: Bring a goat to her family
Step eight: Marry (if you can afford it)

Cars!

2012-02-16T17:14:00.000+01:00

Having been in the Sahara Desert for over a month, we are now used to the sand, the sun and the children with stones. Communicating with only body language is not a problem anymore, and the dark nights are now our friend with its big moon and bright stars.

Yet, we are all still dependent on cars when going further than our little community of Buccra. Finding a car is can sometimes be difficult, and having to depend on someone to drive you to the internet place makes you feel like a teenager again. On the other hand, our mothers are just as dependent on these timeworn vehicles, and whenever a big shop needs to be done, the family jump into one of the old Landrovers.

Most cars need an extra push by the strongest men in the neighbourhood in order to start, and despite me being very strong; the masculine sort is never a girl. If the difficulties with starting the car weren’t more than enough, I have yet to experience a door which will open by using the door handle only. Every car has its own trick, whether it is pulling a string or kicking the door. However, and perhaps by luck or magic, we always end up where we were destined for.

Now, the roads in the desert aren’t necessarily the best. To speak frankly, the highway in the desert is nothing more than tracks from previous cars and its’ comfort level can be discussed in length. A car ride is simply not only a journey; it is better described as an up-side-down roller coaster and the inside of a washing machine at the same time. First time I entered my uncle’s car, my host-sister carefully showed me the handle which I could hold on to. You would think that driving in the desert is straight forward- literally- however avoiding all the big rocks makes the Sahara Desert more like the west coast of Norway. So, if you ever wonder a about how Rally Dakar with Petter Solberg would feel like, have a go in the Sahara Desert first.

2012-02-16T17:06:00.001+01:00

The pink melhefa

2012-02-09T18:47:00.001+01:00

After 20 days with the fantastic family of Shidie and Bisheri, I have moved to a new family in a different neighbourhood. Having gone though the feelings with my class the same day as the move, I had to admit to my students that I indeed was a bit nervous. A new family means new habits, new people and a new place, and it again mean leaving my comfort zone. However, I was also very excited to meet a new Saharawi family. Having ridden through the unexplored territory of neighbourhood 3 in a proper Saharawi car, we finally arrived my new home. It turned out that my family was out shopping and I therefore had to spend the first hour with my half-asleep aunt. Attempting small-talk, I started chitchatting about the TV programme the two children were watching; however as soon as my aunt realized I was interested in the show, she turned up the volume. This killed our simple conversation and I was left by myself with a British TV magical tricks show for children under 7 years. My family arrived an hour later and I was brought my house. I was treated like a (qu)king and told that ‘mi casa es tu casa’ which, with my horrible Spanish, I have translated to my castle is your castle. To be correct- I know casa in Spanish is house, I did learn some Spanish before I left, but I don’t live in a house- indeed it is a castle. Based on my own research, which consist of visiting a couple of families, I think I live in the biggest house in Laayoune. My welcome present turned out to be a new melhefa. A pink melhefa. With golden decoration. I feel like a little brides mate when I wear it, yet this newly acquired piece of fabric so now my teaching gown. Now, in the midst of the fantastic treatment I received, I forgot to ask for the family’s last name. This would not have been a problem had I not gotten lost in neighbourhood 3 the day after, while walking home from school. I strolled around in circles, looking at every sand-based house hoping my sister would pop out of a front door somewhere. Being lost is no fun, the cute kids suddenly turn to small devils and I could not ask for help with no name to ask for. But at this time, when I was lost and had nobody to turn to, one of my students appeared. I must admit that I have never been so happy to hear ‘teacher teacher’ - out in the desert.

A Fresh Start

2012-02-09T18:07:00.000+01:00

Last Sunday Sunniva, Marianne and I had to break up our fabulous trio into three solos. That is, Marianne and I have moved away from our first family in neighborhood 4 of Bucraa. I left for neighborhood 1, and Marianne for neighborhood 3. I suspect you most likely are not very familiar with Bucraa, so simply put this means that we are about 500 meters from each other. And that to get to Sunniva’s family, I now have to take a left upon leaving my house, walk a few meters along a narrow pathway between some houses, take a right between a house and a heima (the big Saharawi tents) and then pass a broken Landrover from the last world war. If I at this point am walking towards a house with Arabic writing in white letters on it, I’m on the right way.
Before I reach this house I have to take another left, and I should now be able to see the Bucraa center where we teach. From there I know the way like the back of my djelabia (the male melheffa). I just go past the Taxi donkey, take a right, and I’m already welcomed by kids yelling “Ahmed!” or “Mohamed!” (the Hassania equivalents to Eivind) at me. Hardly any problem at all.

Marianne on the other hand I have no idea how to get to, other than that she lives somewhere quite close to our Arabic teacher, who lives somewhat in that (I’m indicating towards what I think is the south-west) direction. I’ll get to visit her with time though. She tells fantastic tales of a bed, a sink and something like a shower - tales that sound so incredible that they can only be verified by going there to see for myself.

Being put so suddenly into a completely new family brought back all the challenges we experienced together the first few days. You know, that awkward feeling when you’re so far from your comfort zone that you have absolutely no idea what to do or how to act, and you end up just sitting there. Sort of watching the family while feebly attempting to use your limited Hassania vocab. Not to mention the anticipation just before I arrived! I regret to say that I’m not exaggerating when I say it scared the shit out of me. In fact, the past few days I’ve been having some quite autonomous bowel movements, manifesting themselves rather aggressively in the lavatory. Thankfully, the family bears over with me, much thanks to my host brother and room mate, Dädäh, who speaks well Spanish, but also some English. We have decided to only use Spanish when it is strictly necessary, and otherwise speak Hassania and English so that we might both improve our language. It makes communicating more difficult, but it also relieves the pressure to have an actual conversation about something beyond the most basic - a pressure one often feels when one has a language in common with the other. Instead we are able to treat each other as toddlers who utter a word now and then, so that anyone in their presence with a somewhat developed command of the language in question cheer the little one on by reacting with happiness far beyond proportion to his deed.

Beauty

2012-02-02T18:47:00.001+01:00

Beauty in the refugee camp is, not surprisingly, a very different consept compared to the European fashion industry. The colourful 'melhefa' for women and the brown 'jelebie' for men are used on a daily basis, and we dramatically wrap scarfs around our faces whenever we go outside. Yet, we are greeted with 'hola' instead of the normal 'salam ailekum' while walking to the market. Now, it remains a mystery to us how the Saharawis are able to differentiate between us and a 'real' Saharawi when the only human feature we show are our eyes. We started questioning whether the smurfs could have something to do with this. Who can possible forget the smurfs? This happy, blue creature with white hats have indeed left many children with a smile on their faces before heading to bed at night. But what do the Saharawis and the smurfs have in common? We were all shocked when we encountered the first woman with make-up, which we by mistake took as dirt. I even tried to help my aunt removing some of this dirt, believing it came from the house-cleaning that day. She wildly objected and physically pushed me away and I then realised that what I had tried to brush off was face paint, not dust and filth. The problem with the Saharawi make-up, which is supposed to be white, is that in real life-it is blue! Indeed, most Saharawi women look like smurfs when attempting to promote their beauty. I do recognise that 'the gras is always greener on the other side' but painting your face blue is perhaps fashion streaching a bit too far.. When this is said, blue face- paint is perhaps no better than Norwegian girls with organge faces... So I guess the moral of the story is, be happy with what you have got. Stop applying and re-applying make-up on your face. You are beautiful. Enough said:P

How to...

2012-02-02T17:44:00.005+01:00

I have been longing for becoming a real Saharawi and I assume that there are many more of you out there. So I have written down some guidelines including food and hygiene you ought to know before embarking on your potential refugee career.
Become a Saharawi:
It is not the easiest plan in the world to become like someone else, especially when the life here in so many ways diametrically opposes what I would do in Norway. But there are some ground rules:
1. Don't rush!
2. Make tea at least three times a day.
3. Know how to greet other people.
4. Don't try to get a tan. Try to look as white as possible. If you live in the desert and get exposed by the sun, put on some white cream in your face even if you look more blue then white.

Make food:
Food has always been something I enjoy, but never a thing I prioritized in hectic daily life. Therefore I usually eat food in Norway that is either prepared by someone else or takes less than 30 minutes to make. Here, on the other hand, a wife could spend almost the entire day in the kitchen despite the fact we only eat two big meals a day. It is strange working in the kitchen, especially in the dark, with your cellphone as the only source with light (Thank God for IKEA lamps). Like a child without words, I stumbeled through every cooking step and got a decent meal at the end. Here they use a pressure cooker for all their meals. It is an airtright pot in which food can be cooked quickly under steam pressure. By using the pressure cooker we simply have to wait for the food to cook and spend time doing other things. Which suits me well since I am not very patient. While waiting I could get more water from the rusty container or feed the goats with leftovers and cardboards.

While chopping up onion I learned something I desperately longed for: how to chop onions without crying. So for all you onion-criers out there, put a piece of onion or onion peel on the top of you head. Its supposed to do the trick.

Get sick:
While in Norway we eat from clean plates, the Saharawi style is to rinse their cutlery and plates in cold (probably dirty) water mixed with detergent, before you use them. Bad hygiene is therefore the easiest way to get sick. If you have a child in the house, you can also assume that the cloth you use to dry off your now spankingly clean plates, has already been used to wipe the kid's nose.

Books and nostalgia

2012-02-02T17:42:00.000+01:00

Norway is famouse for its beautiful nature. And while reading Per Pettersons book, Out Stealing Horses the culture differences go even more emphazised. Instead of snow we have summer, instead of rain we have sandstorms. This book was one of many books that the store Tronsmo donated to the refugee camp before I left Norway in January.

When I was packing my bags home in Norway, I wanted to bring all the books that I've always wanted to read, but never had taken the time to read. However, the day before departure I stopped by Tronsmo, a wonderful bookstore in Oslo and asked them if they wanted to donate som old English books to the refugee camp. At the end I had to put my plan aside in favour of Tronsmos books, beacuse they gave me ten new and beautiful books, everything from comic books to epic novels. I gladly gave away all the space I had saved for my own books in my suitcase. As you may have guessed I took the liberty to read some of the books before giving them to my eager students and I found the Petterson book suprisingly important in this life here. After seeing so many students enjoy the books I brought from Tronsmo, I have realized the need for more reading material. I therefor engourage everyone who has English books at different levels to contact me by mail (sunniva.skjeggestad@gmail.com) before the 9th of Feburary if you want to send some books to the camps. But for now my students love reading Tintin and Persepolis.

Out Stealing Horeses portrays beautifully the nostalgia for a simple way of life. It is easy to relate to the same nostalgia here in the camps. How to manage life without television, a toilet that flushes and using car batteries to get light in the evnings. Sometimes you just want to to know that you don't need the modern world or technology to manage. In contrast to the man in the book, who lives in an isolated part of Norway I am in the desert. Here I am surrounded by people wherever I go. Reading the book I feel somehow more connected to where I am from, something that also emphesises my impressions of the Sahara desert. I am more aware of the life around me, which I truly enjoy. This is not a place for nostalgia, but for pragmatism and durable easy-to-accomplish solutions.

A week in the rabbithole

2012-01-26T18:06:00.000+01:00

It's weird to think that we have been here for a week already. In some ways it feels like it was only yesterday that we followed mr. Rabbit into his hole. Usually when travelling somewhere, you kind of get a grasp of stuff after having stayed there for a week. Here in this wonderland however, I just keep running into completely new things, situations and different ways of understanding the world.

Just last Sunday evening I went with our hostfather to the shop. It was quite dark out, so I'm not sure if I was asked for the company's sake, or because of my headtorch. In any case, we walked along in the dark between the mudbrick houses and large tents, and had one of those conversations you have when you barely know a word of the other's language. Quite awkward really. At some point, I pointed to his toe (he sprained it some time ago(I think)) and asked "Läbääs?" - Good? The answer sounded: "Läbääs, läbääs" - Good, good. 'Nuf said.

On account of his toe (at least I think that was why), we got a ride by his friend back home. Not in a car, but on the back of a lorry. Quite exhilarating really. It was me, Bishiri (hostdad) and a few other local boys clinging to the loading deck of this lorry, zigzagging on hardly-visible roads, littered with rocks and sand. In pitch black darkness. Must admit I was a bit scared of falling off a couple of times, especially when we made sharp turns - me not knowing the driver and all. For all I knew, he could have had horrible vision. Could have been real short-sighted or something. I've heard they don't really get glasses down here...
Luckily, faith was on our side that night, and we all made it back in one piece - just in time for tea! Not that that actually says much. You see, in Western Sahara, just like in Wonderland, tea time - is all the time. These tea crazed refugees make even the most homegrown Brit seem like an amateur. And just like Alice at the hatmaker's table in Wonderland, I'm still working on making sense of not only the tea habbits, but most of the stuff happening around here.

2012-01-26T17:43:00.000+01:00

Just as the Saharawis think that having a toilet seat is strange, we think teaching in a dark classroom with the only source of light being the window is exotic, strange and challenging. Eivind's classroom door doesn't close, Sunniva's advanced class struggle with grasping the verb 'I have' and my class shows up thirty minutes after we supposedly have started. On a good day, that is. Yet, we find our role as teachers very interesting. Being a teacher gives us a time where we are in full control of the situation- a stark contrast to the rest of our 21 hours of the day. Being in control can be demanding and sometimes even difficult. On Tuesday, while attempting to explain personal pronouns to my students, one woman entered my class. This was about one hour into my lesson, but instead of asking if she could join she simply took over, greeted all individual students in the very long, traditional Saharawi way (how are you, how is your family, I'm fine, Mohammed is fine, Fatima is fine... inshalla) and upon finishing the once-so-nice tradition sat down on a empty chair looking at me like she had won a battle. This whole thing took five minutes at least, and believe me, I tried to get her to sit down! Now, it turned out that the woman didn't speak a word of English and after a while she left my class. I'm adapting to the new Saharawi culture, and have after a while realised to expect everything. I'm not surprised anymore if the classroom is covered in sand when entering the centre, or if my student have to go outside to chat with her friend for the 17th time the very same hour. I have at least made them go outside! All three of us, Sunniva, Eivind and I, are enjoying the time at the centre. We have become close friends with some of our students already and despite cracked black boards and lack of paper, we are slowly adapting to this new role. Right now, we simply hope that our students will show up after this weekend. Inshalla.

2012-01-19T18:37:00.000+01:00

We have been in the Sahara Desert for about 72 hours and have used more than a kilo of sugar. Mostly in all our cups of tea, but also in our breakfast drink which consists of soy milk, grains and.. yes you guessed it; sugar. Our Saharawi family is lovely and very patient. We have all received the mandatory tea-training and are slowly getting a grasp of all the tea terminology. While the whole process takes over an hour, with Western help it probably takes twice the amount of time. To our family's entertainment, we have all started doing the dishes, which would not have been so fun without Eivinds presence. Including a man in the kitchen is strange for most Saharawis, and consequently Eivind is sent out for more water- which is a man's job. In addition to our new family life, we have also started to teach English at the local community centre. With doors that don't close, cracked blackboards, cold class rooms and a thin lay of sand everywhere the teaching situation is challenging. The only source of light comes from a little window where we also have a view of the incredible Sahara Desert. Upon arrival, we were told that the Sahara winter was cold and harsh, yet in our experience, the sand has currently proved to be the most difficult issue. We have sand in our socks, suitcases, sleeping bags, cameras, cell phones, tooth brushes- indeed every possible cracks and crebices. However these challenges are minor and overall we are enjoying the Sahara Desert, our lovely host family, our students, the food, the language and the incredible stars at night.

Culture?

2012-01-19T18:15:00.003+01:00

"Men and women are equals," said our uncle while helping us carry the food from the living room to the kitchen. But after putting the food down on the kitchen floor, womens rights was not a subject just a matter of culture. In Saharawi culture their are many conflicting traditions. On the one hand women have to do the dishes and men have to get water, on the other hand women are represented in the camps' councils by at least 90 %. The women are in charge of organizing the rations of food that the camps receive from humanitarian organizations. So when can you talk about equal rights and when can something be classified as culture? Are you discriminating when you say that men can't do the dishes because it is a womens job, or is that simply one's traditon?

First Impression

2012-01-19T18:14:00.000+01:00

20 hours in the camps, 9 cups of tea, a new family, new language(s) and "very cold" weather. When we landed in the Algerian military city of Tindouf, Marianne was asked to marry one of the customs officers. Unfortunately for him, we were immediately rushed onwards to meet with the Saharawi coordinator of the project, Abba. Eivind was carrying his small Norwegian flag on the outside of his back pack, but then the Algerian police saw the flag and wanted it for themselves. And after a quite forceful persuation the flag was bequeathed.

We were escorted by the police to the Saharawi territorium in a old car while listening to the techno song Sandstorm. Watching the night turn dark we realized that there was no turning back. We had finally arrived!

We came into our new home, sat on the floor and got the traditional three cups of tea (sugger with tea). My name that usually is so hard to pronounce in English was the easiest of them all. The called me Sinia, a Saharawi name. Since I got a Saharawi name they called it out in joy, and I felt that I was a part of them already. But the language diferences made communication difficult. Abba translated what the many visitors said, but most of the time I tried to say all the Arabic words I could remember. I still have a long way to go before I become a real Saharawi.

Bon soir from the city of lights!

2012-01-15T23:14:00.001+01:00

Today we've been to Paris. Quite simply. We saw the sights, heard the sounds and ate the croissants. As we wandered among the magnificent buildings, we started talking about the refugee camps. About how different it will be. About how this prolonged layover put us off our course. You see, we were ready for dirt, sand, and tents. Then we end up here! In Paris! And merely five hours flight from here lies the Laayounne camp, where people don't have paved roads or even clean drinking water.

Of course, it's not like we didn't enjoy the prepaid hotel and the good food, but the vast differences definitely gave us something to think about.

French engineering?

2012-01-14T22:25:00.000+01:00

We woke up this morning believing we had taken our last shower in four moths, not knowing what the next 24 hours would entail. After having spent an hour at the airport in Norway, waiting for our delayed flight, we finally made it to Paris. However, the joy didn't last long when we realized we had missed our flight to Algeria. As Air Algeria only flies to Tindouf twice a week we are forced to spend two nights in Paris on the expense of AirFrance.

So here we are, at the hotel bar with our new friend Adam, trying to plan our day of sightseeing in Paris instead of doing what we came here for. Save the world.

Saving the world is really hard to do when the French design airports as well, and efficient, as Napoleon invaded Russia! So instead of exploring the Sahara desert we decided to dress up like French people.

Even though Paris is not the worst place to be stranded, we are disappointed that we are no closer to the Algerian refugee camp. The new plan is to leave Monday morning. And hopefully we will meet our Algerian friends then.

twitter

2012-01-14T13:24:00.000+01:00

New adventure

2012-01-13T20:29:00.000+01:00

A new adventure is about to start. Sunniva, Eivind and I are packed and ready for moving down to Laayoune refugee camp in Algeria where we will be staying for about 4 months. Excited? More than words can describe! We have heard so much about the camp, yet a bit confused and slightly worried about what these months actually will entail. Right now, we can only dream of what the place looks like. However, having tried to consider what a situation in the Sahara Desert looks like, we have packed sandals, head torches and gifts for our host families. Internet is not a priority in the camps, which we obviously understand, so we will try to update the blog whenever we are able to. For those of you who are particularly keen on following us, we have created a different communication channel, where will send text messages to the previous volunteers in Norway with short updates which they will add to our facebook page, SahaNor- http://www.facebook.com/SahaNor and a twitter account- @SahaNorUWC. So please, follow us on Facebook and/or Twitter as well! So far so good! Algeria next!

Whirlwind

2011-12-18T21:54:00.000+01:00

We remember a time when the hours went by so slowly. We remember these moments now as relaxing and an opportunity to spend time with the family(except Hanne). This has changed radically, and is now giving us the tailspin. While we are saying goodbye to the students, and ending our careers as Arabic students in Western Sahara, we are also having loved ones visiting, end of the year party for our students and eagerly working with our new baby project concerning young women. The 13th Polisario congress is also coming up, and we are lucky enough to participate.

First was the family of Hanne that traveled the great desert. The were welcomed with great enthusiasm both from the family and the Norwegians. Apparently they fit perfectly in Sahara and is now also welcomed to stay for ever. Then there was Sjørgen. He has been taken into the family of Marta as one of their own, and has joined in on the heated discussions about gender differences. He is also joining us during the Congress in the liberated area.

Our project is taking shape as we speak. Still we don’t want to hold the project in a very tight leach. What we know now is that it is for young women in Imgale, they will be producing different textiles and traditional items typical for this region.

From our English class, we managed to create a show in the Idara (town hall), a end of the year party and ending by giving out diplomas. This was a major achievement for students and teachers, performing on stage or watching proudly.

The value of family life

2011-12-01T18:44:00.001+01:00

One of the aspects I like best with the Saharawi society is the importance of family. As mentioned before is the big family never far away. When someone gets married the new couple usually settles down only few meters away from the mother of the wife. My Saharawi family lives about 60 meters away from my mothers family and is because of that quite “far” away from the rest, Saharawi standard of course. This is something my mother has expressed as well; she really wishes her house would be closer to the house of her mother and sisters.

As a Norwegian I find it hard to understand that 60 meters away from the rest is a long distance. In my Norwegian family all of my aunts and uncles live in different parts of the country, and we usually don’t see them more than once a year. I have always thought of this as a natural and good thing since it becomes so special when we actually meet. (When I was younger I actually told my parents that they should move away from my hometown when I got children of my own because I wanted my children to get the same good childhood memories as I got by travelling far to visit my grandparents across the country.) Now however, as it feels like a small part of me has become Saharawi, I really do understand why the Saharawi people value their big family so much in everyday life. Family means everything here. They are the ones that help you if you are sick, they take care of your children if you have to go to a meeting and they are the people you spend uncountable hours with over a glass of tea or three. It seams like almost everyone we meet are part of our family one way or an other, either as a cousin, a aunt of your father or as the brother of the uncle of your grandmothers second cousin on your fathers side. (Or was it your mothers side...?)

The everyday contact between the generations are very different in the camps from what I’m used to from my own family in Norway. We often see family members of the same gender and from different generations embracing each other, holding hands or resting under the same blanket. My little brother loves helping his grandparents with the lekanims (goats) and the older children spends a lot of time playing with and taking care of the younger ones. Many evenings are spent drinking tea under the stars in summer time or inside under a blanket in wintertime. And of course always together with other family members. Age doesn’t seem to matter as much here as it does back home. It doesn’t really matter how old you are as long as you are a likable person. And if you are not, that doesn’t really matter either because you are family. You share everything from rooms to plate to malhefas. I often tend to ask people about their age, and the answer I get is almost just as often that they don’t know. They often think the question is strange, but if I really need to know they suggest that we have a look on the birthdate on their ID card. You spend a lot of time with your family no matter how big an age difference there are.

I do understand that my mother wishes she could just call on her sisters through the walls of the tent, instead of walking 60 meters in the darkness only in the lights of a small flash light and the stars.

Happy Days

2011-11-27T15:36:00.002+01:00

The new security situation had almost stolen our hope of going on the excursions we first had taken for granted, such as the renown trip to faraway Dakhla with the beautiful sand dunes. But that was before today, when we finally saw light at the end of the tunnel we so desperately have refused to shut down. We might really (insh Allah - lets not forget the larger forces at play) go to Dakhla! Our ceaseless enthusiasm never fails to pay off in one way or another..

Another good piece of news is that we might have found a project which will help us keep in touch with and make a sustainable contribution to the community in Amgala after we leave. After a few failed attempts at gathering excitement over a garden project we have found support for resurrecting old sewing traditions. Traditionally, Saharawi women have made everything pertaining to the home with their own hands. For example, before, every dignified woman knew how to piece together a tent, a skill which was passed on through generations. However, many such important crafts are on the verge of being forgotten as the most senior generation is slowly slipping away. The disappearance of these skills is both due to the scarcity of proper handiwork equipment and the provision of carpets and cooking tools by humanitarian organizations - products which used to be made out of leather and other natural materials by Saharawi women. Other Dairas (districts) have succeeded in establishing centers where elderly women teach the younger generations their arts so as to preserve an essential part of Saharawi culture. These centers also offer an opportunity for women to work outside the home. A local female volunteer organization (مجموعة التواصل), which several of our family members are part of, would be responsible for running the project in Amgala, with help of Norwegian funds. We really hope this can become something.

Less unexpected but also quite exciting is the proximate arrival of December, the Christmas month and also the month of many happy events: Norwegian visitors both in the beginning and mid-month, the national Polisario conference which only happens every 5 years, and the reunion with friends and family in our white northern country at the end of the month. It seems like time is speeding, and there is so much to do still. Finally we have become busy, an almost forgotten feeling here in the camps where the only thing of abundance is time. It is a feeling we have missed. However, preparing for departure also means preparing to say goodbye to people who have become family and dear friends. So lets not think too much about that yet. Almost a third of our stay is still left. We will embrace this time.

2011-11-10T16:48:00.000+01:00

Marta with her new malhefa and henna for Eid

2011-11-10T16:39:00.002+01:00

My mother barbequing goatmeat where the tea is normaly heated

Monday, October 31, 2011 (by Hanne)

2011-11-10T14:47:00.000+01:00

Still no official news about the state of the three kidnapped foreigners. Al-Qaeda has made a statement claiming responsibility for the act but that means little without any proof. We feel very safe in our Saharawi families (they still follow us everywhere we go), but can’t stop thinking about the miserable three, especially the man who was shot in his leg. Polisario is more quiet than before on the matter, but our sources tell us that they are still working to get the humanitarian aid workers in safety. Although official statements at the moment are few and vague, the rumors are plenty, and say the kidnappers’ car was surrounded near to the Mali border, but somehow managed to enter into Mali without the Saharawi forces being able to follow. Our own scanning of world news, albeit limited, suggests that the case has received little coverage, even in Spain and Italy, reminding us of how big issues often receive little media attention. This fact seems to be becoming something of a theme.

However, we know from experience that Saharawis are a determined people to whom no challenge is undefeatable. In our daily life here, this is particularly well demonstrated by our students. Lately there has been much discussion around whether we will move to Buccra, a different daira (district), after Eid. We have experienced some difficulties with the school we are currently teaching in, in Amgala. The small and scarce windows are our only source of light, which will be a problem when we have to close them once winter arrives. The total number of students is a concern as well, along with other minor issues. Yet, our students are intent on our staying. Several of our students are members of a volunteer organization they call Brigada los Libros. It was the brigade that found desks and chairs for the school (initially we sat on the floor). Now they are searching for car batteries for all three classrooms, after which they will install lamps. Car batteries are heavy, they require two people to be lifted short distances, and a car or donkey to be transported further. Our batteries must be carried to someone’s home after class every day to be charged. But the brigade is ready to find transportation and offer their private solar panels to our disposal. If the most important issues are solved by the end of the week, we will stay. Hanshouf.. (We will see..)

Regardless of our moving or staying we will spend Eid with our current families. Eid is arguably the most important holiday in the camps. Everyone buys new clothes and shoes, women go to the hamam (a Saharawi type of Turkish bath) and draw henna on their hands and feet. Many families buy new furniture. When the holiday starts, every family slaughters a goat for the feast. During the day, the Saharawis visit family and friends, especially elderly people. For newlywed women, this is a good opportunity to make the first formal visit to the husband’s parents, which involves bringing a hoard of gifts ranging from tables and tea sets to food or a goat. Our students have been counting the days for weeks and become more excited by the day. As we realize the importance of this holiday, so do we..

the fysical challenges continues

2011-11-10T14:44:00.002+01:00

We are to be so lucky as to experience Eid. And this being the “bigger” Eid we are really looking forward to the celebration (and feeling a bit homesick while thinking of Christmas at home). Out first experience with Eid is being woken up at 5 o’clock in the morning to eat. Since be are here for the hole package, we all agreed to fast the day before Eid, as many people do here, of religious reasons. We on the other hand have cultural reasons, and for my sake I want to see how it feels. The families were of course surprised, happy and worried like they most of the time are when we make decisions.

The fasting includes no food or drink from sunset (05.30) till sundown (19.00). The lack of water is the most problematic for us, since we can just lay around all day writing or reading. The rest of the family have to clean the hole house, and with strong wind and dust everywhere - this is a big challenge. Since the medical aid is rear and limited, they are careful about their health. So if you have any sickness, feel nauseous or any kind of uncomfort, you will not fast. The most common is headache from lack of tea. Finally the Norwegian folk can feel like good Samaritans and bring forth the Norwegian painkillers “Paracet”.

At 18.30 all the family is called together into the tent, to be ready, sitting by the table looking at what is served. At exactly 19.00 the father utters Bismilleh. And so the family gathers together for a big meal together, with tea and all the food you can eat.

... so here we go!

2011-10-27T10:12:00.004+01:00

Finally, family life has developed further and away from only stomach issues. we try to adjust to everyday life with all of it`s awkward moments and misunderstandings. And not to forget, the everyday life is adjust to us.

Even though kids continues to scream Ola and Da Me Caramelos at us, we try our best to be a more natural part of the family. Hanne is doing this perfectly, having a more healthy appetite, switching from classical arabic to the local dialect Hassania, and screaming Kustr Oemrok (may God shorten your life) after the kids, when they are up to no good (so most of the time). Her family keeps on pulling pranks on her, and it seems to rub off on her. Today she brought a dead lizard to class.

Martas Haima (home) seems a bit more calm, with a thoughtfull mother and fater, and a wandering baby boy with no pants on. While enjoying tranquility, she always have her english class in mind and how they would better benifit the short time we are here. Always beating herself up about not going through the alphabet yet another time. All of these very sensible and conserned thoughts however seem to quickly disapear when spanish music comes out of a small speaker and she starts to move.

Then there is Anne Kristine, struggeling to understand both arabic and spanish. When lacking Martas enthusiastic ability to use body language, she is in so many words, getting by, stuttering trough one arabic word at the time. While feeling that she has more superfluous time than normally, she is iniciating more productive ways to use the time than to read a book (even though she has been seen reading on more than one occation). A great End of the Year show, for the english students is taking shape, and a small garden in the neighbour is expected finished in the begining of December. She is also a volunteer at the school for handicaps in Layonne. When all of this is finished, there is magically even more time! So yoga classes for family and friends are arranged, texts are written and new people are met. And in her spare time, she enjoys Dostoevskys Crime and Punishment and the company of her family.

The girls are always out looking for new adventures, meeting organisations in the camp , that is doing volunteer work. We met the Brigados de Livres, a group of young people helping by amongst other things, cleaning schools, coaching footballteams and bringing water and electricity to old, weak or poor people. We also met the organisers of Mdgei Misik, a demonstration done in the wasteland in the occupied territory, consisting of about 22 000 people in tents. We also heard about his exciting escape through 15 days in the desert and his clever way of getting over the Wall of Shame, and into the refugee camp.

On other occations adventure finds the girls. 23rd of Octobre we are told nto to move without a familymember. At 11.30 we are told by our coordinator about the kidnapping of foreign aid workers in Rabuni. How terrorists have come into the Protocolo and kidnapped two girls, spanish and italian, and shot and taken a spanish man. A change in the air happens, and a new tension is felt while listening to the radio at home. We are continuously updated, and reassured of our safety. We are also given a small group of security guards consisting of fearless familymembers.

2011-10-14T13:33:00.002+01:00

Internet access is not an everyday pleasure, and needs full consentration when actually achieved.

"I... You... I.... You... I... You"
Entertaining private English lessons in the house.

2011-10-14T13:16:00.002+01:00

Afternoon family gathering with english lessons, tea, dancing and relaxing

Hanna teaching english to some of her brothers

After a yoga lesson by Anne Kristine the night before, Alin, Hanna`s younger nephew, is very eagar to learn more!

Sunset close to where the goats are kept

On our way to feed the goats

2011-10-14T13:09:00.001+01:00

Det tar fortsatt litt tid aa ta paa seg melhefaen.

New families

2011-10-14T13:07:00.001+01:00

On Tuesday all three of us got our own Saharawi family. Hanne is still in the familiy where all of us lived the first couple of weeks, while Anne Kristine and I (Marta) have moved into new families. In theory we now have one Saharawi family each, but in practice we rather feel that all of us got two new ones. The first family we lived in will, even for the two of us who have moved, still be very special. Even though only Hanne now lives there, Anne Kristine and I will without doubt come visit for a round of the sand game Sig, a friendly conversation or a cup of tea quite often. Upon arrival to the new families, it didn’t last long before they underlined that mi casa es su casa, no matter if your name is Hanne, Anne or Marta. (They are very hospitable, but do from time to time also mix up our names..)

I have moved to a young family consisting of a married couple and their one and a half year old son. The core family is small, but there are almost always some aunts, uncles, cousins or siblings around. In real Saharawi style the big family is never far away, and the tents of your relatives are usually very visable from your own tent. (Oh, sorry, from your mothers tent; by talking about your own tent you indirectly say that you are a married woman!)

After soon three weeks in the Sahara desert, we are slowly getting used to the Saharawi life in the refugee camps. Even our taste buds are starting to adapt. For every cup of tea we imagine that the amount of sugar is a bit less than in the last cup. When one of us accidentally poured coffee in the sugar cup, we did just barely notice that the coffee was a bit sweeter than usually. The heat doesn’t feel so harsh anymore and our daily routines go by without to many problems; from Saturday till Wednesday we work as English teachers in the morning, and take Arabic/Hassania lessons in the afternoon. After dark (around 7 pm) we often have different meetings or visits to Saharawis with important stories to tell. Our life in the camps is quite busy with work, school and meetings. To cope with the unbearable heat, a big motivation for us is the knowledge of us sliding down snowy hills with friends and family in the end of December. In our own country.

This is of course not representative for many Saharawis in the camps. There is not enough work for the people in the camps, and many spend days without to much content. The reality of a life in a refugee camp is not good. The conditions are harsh and the Algerian desert is not the home of the saharawi people.

It is a life that no one should have to get used to.

first week in the camps!

2011-10-07T10:37:00.000+01:00

Nine days in, and getting used to the Saharawi life. Time flies and it feels like we’ve been here forever. Yet so much is still to be learnt. A new lifestyle, new traditions, new habits and new languages: Hassaneyya, Arabic and Spanish. The heat is overwhelming at times. The nights are tranquilizing. We sleep under the most magnificent starry sky we have ever seen. Everything about the climate is exotic and something our bodies clearly were not made for.

For about another week the three of us will stay together in the family we currently live with. We finally figured out their whole family tree yesterday: the grandparents just passed away, the parent generation consist of five siblings (one of whom is our “mother”) and we have seven sisters and brothers of ages 14 to 32 years. Our cousins live next door (meaning they sleep there, but are otherwise in our faces, on our laps, in our arms and sometimes almost on our plates!) and their ages range from 4 to 16 years. Family life takes a lot of energy, but we have never been so warmly welcomed. Our brothers walk to meet us after Arabic class when it gets dark. The little ones want us to lift them up and toss them around constantly. Everyone wants our attention. And everyone wants to help in any way they can. We couldn’t be more grateful.

We started teaching last Saturday - that’s the first day of the week here. After three tests (written, oral and listening) we were able to place our students into three classes. Marta teaches the beginners, Hanne the middle level and Anne Kristine the advanced class. Teaching is challenging, especially when students come and go (e.g. today someone had to leave because she was going to go to Mauritania with her family for 10 days), but we’re expecting more stability soon, insh allah..

Our Arabic and Hassaneyya lessons started on Saturday as well, and we feel like we’re making slow but steady progress.

More soon (i.e. next time we find internet)!

Sending big hugs to you all by the warm wind from the Sahara desert from marta, anne kristine and hanne

First lap: check! :D

2011-09-26T10:50:00.000+01:00

Team Fall’11:

Marta, Anne Kristine

and Hanne

Charles de Gaulle, Paris, *15 minutes of free internet*
11.30am: Time for our first blog!

So, what are you really going to do for three months?

Now we are already done with the first lap on our journey to our home for the next three months. While sitting in the airport of Paris we are wondering if friends and family really know what we are actually going to do and experience in Algeria.. Do we really know what will meet us when we exit the Algerian airport of Tindouf, the closest town to the camps?

Well, when we get to Tindouf in some hours, we probably won’t see anything. Tindouf is a military town where all planes arrive during dark in order to keep foreigners from seeing the town. Foreigners are not allowed to enter the town at all. While trying to get used to the heat, the sounds, the noises and the smells, we will be driven one hour into the desert and hopefully find tents of the Saharawi refugee camp Layounne.

So, we’ll be in Algeria, but it won’t really feel like it. The Saharawi camps are in the desert, hours away from cities. Our families will not speak French, but Hassaniya, and most likely Spanish. They are refugees, miles away from the place they call their real home, Western Sahara, a Moroccan “colony”. Is this the last colony of Africa?

Regardless, we are confident that we will learn tons about a new way of life, a new language and make lasting friendships. Not completely sure what we’re going to yet, but we know that each of us will live in a host family, we’ll have Arabic lessons every day and we’ll be teaching three different levels of English to voluntary participants. And there won’t be brown cheese. Or showers. Or sit-down toilets that flush. But believe it or not, that’s part of what we’re excited about.

Algeirs AF 2154 12.35 F44 A l’heure (soon it’ll say something like.. allé al port..?)

Untill next time! And then, from the camps! :D

The different camps

2011-05-29T13:39:00.001+01:00

Written by Marius:

The Sahrawi Refugee Caps outside Tindouf are similar, but different. Just like cities in other countries, they have their own special and defining aspects. This blog post is an informative run through of the different camps, in our view.

There are five residential camps, four of which are close to Tindouf (within 50 km): Layounne, Smara, Auserd and 27^th of February. The distant Dakhla is 140 km to the south. In addition, the administrational camp Rabouni near 27^th of February hosts all government institutions. In this post, I will describe the impression I have of the different camps.

Layounne: This is the camp in which we have lived and worked. It is big, both in size and population. It is close to Tindouf (15 km), and the seven Dairas (parts into which the camps are divided) stretch eastward like a string of pearls. In comparison with the other camps, not that many foreigners are found Layounne. They fly right above before landing in Tindouf, but often head to the other camps. Despite the close proximity to Tindouf, there is no electricity for Layounne residents. The nights are dark, the days are calm. In the north, low and flat-top mountains mark the border with Algeria. On top of these mountain is an Algerian military camp, and when they practice with live ammunition a spectacular lightshow is displayed. In the south and east, there is nothing but vast desert. To the east you can catch a glimpse of Tindouf infrastructure, which creates an orange glow on the eastern horizon in the night. Layounne is big, the resources are scarce and the Sahrawis there are extremely welcoming and hospitable towards foreigners. A continuous presence is genuinely appreciated by the people – at least this is our impression from Bucraa.

Smara: This is the biggest camp, and has more of an urban feel (to the extent this concept can be applied) than the other camps. There are a few international institutions here, including an American School and a computer center. Smara has permanent internet, and this little detail makes it miles closer to the outside world. Smara is used to foreign guests, as especially Spanish people visit frequently. Smara is densely populated and spread over a big area, and it would probably be a magnificent sight from the air. Together with Layounne, they host the annual Sahara Marathon. And it has restaurants.

Auserd: This camp is the only one without a paved road connection. It camp is built like a giant circle, with an open field in the middle and the houses widely scattered around. Thus it would probably also be a magnificent sight from the air. It is sandy, windy and the omnipresent mud-based infrastructure is quite worn and torn. Auserd feels like it is in some vast void, far away from everything. Perhaps a remedy to this is the permanent electricity that is coming soon. Also more of the nomad desert feeling is present here, which naturally is important to the Sahrawis. Auserd feels very authentic, and for some reason the local police are supposedly much stricter.

27^th of February: This camp derives its name from a school, which is also the center of the camp. Many of the government and administrational staff lives here, as it is close to Rabouni. The president has his tent and house right in the centre, and they are just the same as everyone else’s tents and houses. The only difference is a house intended for meetings with the Sahrawi population. Internet is present here, but at the speed of an upside-down donkey backwards in sandstorm. 27^th of February has permanent electricity, and thus daily activities become less strenuous. Electric equipment (ovens, washing machines, refrigerators, microwaves, stoves etc) is cheaper and easier than the old fashioned solutions, and so many people gather that the population of 27^th of February are richer than the others. However, if the other camps would get electricity they would be exactly the same after a little time.

Dakhla: Deep south, following the road to an Algerian quarry, you will find Dakhla. It is well regarded for its tranquillity, beauty and resemblance to areas in the occupied Western Sahara. Most of this comes from the fact that they have stunning sand dunes, which are indeed stunning. Security in Dakhla is a bit stricter, due to terrorist activities in (relatively) nearby desert areas (mainly Mali, Mauretania and Niger, who struggle with active Al-Qaida branches and other local bad boys). Trips to the dunes are always with armed escorts. Nevertheless, the stereotypical beauty of the Sahara Desert is found in Dakhla. Some Sahrawis go on holiday here, and the landscape is quite different from the other camps. Less rocks, more sand (in your clothes and backpack) and more green areas. Dakhla hosts the FiSahara Film Festival, which this year was held between the 2^nd and 8^th of May.

All in all, the camps are just like cities with different personalities. It is great to visit them all, especially when you have stayed for a while. After living three months in Bucraa, our hearts and heads will remain with Layounne. When Sahrawis ask where we live, we answer “Bucraa, Layounne”. They give us a funny look, and then ask where we actually live. We repeat our previous answer.

What to wear?

2011-04-09T12:37:00.002+01:00

It is well know that most muslim women cover themselves, or at least parts of themselves. This piece of clothing, whether it involves a piece of fabric covering just the head, the head and the body, or also the face, has created some debate in Norway and elsewhere in the Western world. Before coming here, I was curious about how my own feelings towards the melheffa – the four meter long piece of colourful fabric worn by women here – would be.

Firstly; Saharawi women take pride in their melheffas. If you wear a green melheffa, you always wear a matching green jumper underneath. How they manage to always find things that match is a mystery to me, especially after having seen the market here... There is also fashion to consider, here as elsewhere. Light, bright colours are for young women, whilst darker shades of blue, red, and purple are for older women. Also, a melheffa with two or three different colours, alternatively batik patterns in are in fashion right now.

After coming here, I have bought two melheffas. The remaining ten I have been given from various families I have stayed with, or at dinner visits to friend's houses. Most of them are luckily quite nice, but I must admit that I have one or two that I still haven't worn and have no intention of wearing. No names or colours mentioned.

Fashion and taste aside; what is the significance of this piece of clothing? As my students explained to me, a good woman covers her body and head, including her arms (thus almost everyone wears long sleeved t-shirts underneath, regardless of the heat). Why? To protect themselves from the glances of men. As one of my students underlined; women are sexier than men. There seems to be some confusion as to whether the ko'ran demands that women cover themselves, whether it's interpreted this way, or whether it's cultural. I must admit that I don't know myself either. Regardless, here in the camps the melheffa carries both religious and cultural connotations.

Sahrawis are very proud of their melheffas. Time and time again it is mentioned that no one else wears the melheffa like the Saharawis; the Mauritanians wear it in a similar way, but not quite the same! It is, in short, part of their cultural identity. Yes, a mark of islam, but also something which stretches beyond religion as well as across the Moroccan wall of shame, and into the home country. For Saharawis, culture is serious business. It's what distinguishes them from other people; Algerians, Mauritanians, Spaniards – and most importantly Moroccans.

This is a reason why for me, as a self-declared secular feminist (oh, what a stereotype!), it is possible to wear it. It is not only an attempt at integrating better into the society, but it is also an act of solidarity with the people here. In order to understand their situation, I try the best I can to live like them, and in this process, it has also become possible for me to wear the melheffa. That is not to say that I don't find it problematic from a feminist perspective, because I do. Not so much because of the religious demands in themselves, but because of the lack of gender equality in the reasoning and the thinking which seems to be the basis of these demands. Sexiness is relative. Women's beauty is no more “precious” and in need of protection than men's beauty. And so on...

Also, the fact that I wear it is no guarantee for integration in the society here – I still feel like I'm trying to fool people when I put it on. Of course, I don't fool anyone. Even from behind, the children in the streets are shouting at me in Spanish (or throwing rocks if I'm lucky). Even the way I walk is influenced by the cultural conditions I've grown up under! Also, some days are simply non-melheffa days. These are the days when I'm ill, it is too warm, or I simply don't feel like wearing it. Attempts at cultural integration is demanding. Some days I just want to sit in my room and listen to electronic music, read my (now rather old) Norwegian newspapers and send text-messages home. But this is part of the experience. Integration is difficult and demanding, and requires whole hearted attempts followed by small breaks. Nothing strange about this.

Back to the melheffa; most days, however, I don't even think about when I put it on. Some of my melheffas are easy to wear. The fabric is one which stays in place, they are not too long so that I have to hold it up with one hand in order to avoid falling over, and they keep me comfortably warm as the temperature drops at night. I like the colours. I like looking like the other women here; I am not like them, but I can try to understand them and their situation. Most days, the melheffa is just a small part of this attempt.

Regarding the recent events of utmost global importance

2011-03-30T14:05:00.002+01:00

Sometimes we have the feeling that the world is coming to an end while we sit here and sip on deadly sweet cups of tea.

TV and news is not something we enjoy every day, and whenever we get a glimpse at BBC or CCN another country has been shattered by an earthquake or nuclear disaster, or is simply about to tear itself apart from within. And if no new country has been put on the verge of ruin, one of the ongoing events seems to have suddenly escalated way out of proportion.

It all started with the revolt in Tunis: TV pictures of crowds surging through the streets and a pressured president that finally let go. After Tunis came Egypt. More crowds, more videos of bloody demonstrators and police cars crashing into crowds. Next time we switched on the TV we saw New Zealand literally in ruins. The next time revolts had started in all Arab countries, Bahrain, Yemen and Libya seemed to be in some serious trouble. After Mubarak had to hand over power to the army, attention shifted and we realized that Libya was in a civil war. Just then another earthquake attempted to wipe Japan off the map, with partial success. This all led to a new Chernobyl. In Libya Gadaffi orders his soldiers to perform genocide when they reach Benghazi, and suddenly all of NATO (including Norway) is waging a war with our neighboring country. To the south, more than a million people are fleeing from stubborn presidential candidates in the Ivory Coast.

Here everything is normal, and people are oblivious to all that does not concern them directly. And only two things affect us here; “Is this our moment to move on Morocco?” And “what about Libya?” A nuclear explosion in Japan could not bother people less.

At first there was a spark of hope that the wave of unrest in the Arab world would spread to Morocco too. This would mean new hope for the Saharawis. However this little spark died quickly.

Secondly there is Libya. Gadaffi has been a friend of the POLISARIO before, and before the war many young Saharawis studied there. POLISARIO evacuated the students just before things turned very bad. Now the question is how they will finish their education?

The general opinion here is very pro-Gadaffi. Primarily because he has been kind to the Sahrawis. However, they also say that the people in Libya have nothing to complain about: They have houses, electricity and food. Everything they need. Furthermore, people condemn the international intervention. When we inform that Norway also sends planes, many people are disappointed. There is an understanding why France and the Mediterranean countries have a justification for acting; this is basically in their neighborhood. This is not exactly the case for Norway. “What is such a respectable and peaceful country doing meddling with other countries business?”

Rollercoaster!

2011-03-30T12:47:00.002+01:00

Written by Mariu

You wake up.

Your first thought is: ”The end is near”. The freezing night has strengthened your cold, and removed all physical defence installations. As you head towards the breakfast table for a treat consisting of tea, bread, local super duper medicines and other skulduggery, you realize that all contents within are determined to exit as at fast as possible. Wise from experience, you change the current course and rapidly trudge towards the room of relief. Meanwhile the sun is rising, without a cloud in the sky to cool your day and mind.

After barely conquering the endless road to school, you are met with impatient student and annoyingly healthy colleagues. Overnight the students seem to have forgotten everything, the chalk breaks more than it writes, and between “to be” and “to have” you are constantly interrupted by interrupting interrupters.

The evening Arabic lesson feels like Greek, and as a military cargo plane roars overhead you wish you were an ammunition box flying away. Today you are less productive than a stone. Back home in the tent, you don’t even feel like socially lurking around, it is too exhausting. Eventually stumbling to bed, to the toilet and back to the bed, you wonder why on earth the earth has decided to fall apart today. You fall asleep, and dream about how you drowned in that something you had for dinner.

You wake up.

Your first though is: “Hellyeah!” You have slept like a baby, ignorant of everything but your own sweet dreams. They were something about swimming in chocolate after becoming the president of the world. The breakfast table welcomes you with freshly baked bread, nice coffee and smooth tea. Your stomach handles all this deliciousness with ease. Meanwhile the sun is rising, while the heat is blown away by a cool breeze.

After strolling to school, listening to a hyperactive one-bird bird choir and greeting the local merchant, you are met with enthusiastic students. One colleague is sick, but it could be worse. Yesterday’s test results show that your students have learned more than you have taught them, someone brought coloured chalk, and you feel that this is exactly why teaching is rewarding.

The Arabic letters are dancing in your mouth, Fathathain and Dammathain and Kasrathain jump into place almost by themselves, the UN plane buzzing overhead brings Sahrawi families together (temporarily) and perhaps some of those good WFP cookies as well. Back in the tent with your family, you watch Algeria beat Morocco in football, and the dinner is delicious couscous and camel meat. After learning new Hassaniya phrases, explaining the greatness of Gudbrandsdalsost, and playing with the kids, you are so tired that you are half asleep when you realize that toothbrush action might be advisable after 14 cups of tea.

Humanitarian hunger strike

2011-03-30T12:28:00.003+01:00

No, not us. As privileged Norwegians, we can (with a few exceptions) travel wherever and meet whoever, whenever. Our basic human rights are very rarely threatened to the extent that a hunger strike is required. It is, however, a completely different case for the Saharawis. As we are writing this, a young Saharawi man, Mohammed Hallab, is on a humanitarian hunger strike which he begun on the 7th of March. You do the maths... The reason? He's being refused to travel to the occupied territories to meet his family. This is not only the case for him, but for 2400 other Saharawis.

Since 2004, the UN has been sending Saharawis in airplanes back and forth between the refugee camps and the occupied territories. The reason is that there are few other ways the refugees here in the camps can meet their relatives who live in the occupied areas. In order to participate in the program, one has to queue for some time – exactly how long seems to vary. People are then able to spend about ten days with their relatives who they may not have seen for years and years, before being sent back to the camps. People are also being sent the other way, from the occupied territories to the camps. Whenever there is a plane arriving, the relatives throw a huge party in the neighbourhood. The result is that you can hear it all over El'aiuun when this is happening. There are parties in every neighbourhood. Family is serious business around here!

The problem for Mohammed Hallab is that although he has been queuing for the program, he is now being refused to go despite not having seen his family since 2003. Hallab is a human rights activist and had to flee from the occupied territories after participating in peaceful demonstrations. Because of this, the Moroccan authorities have threatened to arrest him as soon as he enters the occupied territories through the program. As a consequence, the UN is refusing him to board the planes as they don't want to take responsibility for what might happen to him in the occupied territories.

The situation now is thus as follows; at the premises of the UN, under the open sky, Mohammed Hallab is lying on his bed. The UN refuses to talk to him, and takes no responsibility other than keeping him on the premises. At the demonstration to support him, we were also told that the UN claims to be in daily contact with his family in the occupied territories, searching for a solution to the problem. Hallab himself claims that this is not the case, and that his family has heard nothing from the UN.

That the Moroccans are creating problems is nothing new, but for the Saharawis – who have faith in the UN and their work in the camps (at least to a certain extent) – to have to fight the UN seems somewhat strange.

At the demonstration on Friday, there were Saharawis, as well as people from Spain and France in addition to us, showing their support. Mohammed Hallab is making an example which should not have to be made, and we now hope that the Moroccan authorities and the UN takes responsibility and unites him with his family immediately.

We are not able to log on to Facebook at the moment, but there should be some support-campaigns for those of you who want more information.

DRIVE!

2011-03-17T12:25:00.003+01:00

A wise man once told me “Drives Define Nations”. That might have been an overstatement, but the Tifariti drive to the celebrations of February 27th was of the calibre that deserves an account of its own.

Departure was scheduled at 07.15. Needless to say, we were delayed. Three hours and fifteen minutes later, we were off the road, where most of the journey (as with most Sahrawi travel) would take place. After one hour, one car suffered significant health problems. During Sahrawi Land Cruiser first aid, the rest of us had tea in the beautiful desert. The car was beyond repair, and the three remaining jeeps carried 25 persons onwards to Tifariti.

We met another convoy, and the sight of 40 hardcore jeeps speeding through the desert astonished us. Our driver was of the competitive type, whose mindset was “if you are not first, you lose”. After exiting Algeria (and a few kilometres of Mauretania), we entered the territory of Western Sahara. The Algerian military escort stepped aside, and the open desert was an invitation to Sahrawi road race. A few intense minutes later, all the other cars were eating our dust in the horizon. Never mind our leaking fuel tank.
Now, when you have a driver who races ahead of everyone (and believes he is the Schumacher/Bjarte Morten of Western Sahara), you expect him to know the way. This was not so.

After hours of speeding through rocky desert, we found ourselves in dark mountain ranges. Our enthusiasm faded proportionally with the realization that the driver had no idea of Tifariti’s location. He asked shepherds for directions, who were so imprecise that they could just as well have addressed us in Greek. For them there is no need for precise directions, whereas for two Norwegians and seven Germans bound for a national celebration, it would have been useful.
Nevertheless, as we were driving into the beautiful sunset like a poor and lonesome cowboy, we knew we were lost in the Sahara Desert. The complete darkness proved that we were nowhere near any electric light, never mind Tifariti. The small roads kept disappearing and reappearing. At the most memorable instance, we were driving through bushes when out of the darkness a small wall appeared. The car came to a screeching halt, and the second when we all thought we had found the Moroccan military wall left us flabbergasted. I quote: “That was fun – let’s never do it again!”

After three hours of random roaming the Sahara, things were literally looking dark. As we prepared ourselves mentally for spending the night out, we spotted several vehicles on the horizon. Our search party signalled us, and eventually we entered Tifariti after 11 hours of driving. It turns out we had been several miles (two and a half mountain range) north. On the journey home we didn’t see any mountains at all.

The journey fits perfectly into the Sahrawi culture: Do not worry, you will get there eventually. It does not matter if you are late, nobody expected you on time anyways. It was indeed a memorable journey; it’s not every day you are properly lost in the Sahara Desert.

Reflections on a POLISARIO Military Parade

2011-03-17T12:00:00.002+01:00

The Celebration of the 35th anniversary of the Sahrawi Declaration of Independence
took place in Tifariti, Western Sahara, on the 27th of February 2011.

After watching approximately 5000 soldiers marching past our VIP podium, we had much fuel for thought. The irony of watching a military parade while working for the Peace Corps is one thing, the fact that we are watching an army eager to go to war is quite another.

The military is important in Western Sahara. Not only do they represent a real opposition to Morocco, but they are also a source of pride and hope. From our students, we hear that war is a good option. A class discussion revealed that the idea of losing a potential war is virtually nonexistent. Of course the POLISARIO will win. This notion is indeed important in order to maintain and strengthen the Sahrawi unity and national spirit, but whether it is realistic or not is difficult to say.

In terms of military strength, it is hard to determine how hard the POLISARIO Front can strike. From our point of view (lacking political and military insight) the army appears somewhat old fashioned. The parade displayed only foot soldiers with AK-47’s, and no vehicles or military machinery of any kind. There is little doubt that the POLISARIO forces know well how to fight in the desert conditions, but they are likely to be greatly outnumbered in battle. We were left with the feeling that if this army was to attack Morocco, a great number of the men and women passing in front of us would die.

The POLISARIO is good at organizing their highly competent armed forces. However, they are even better at organizing and managing their land. The events in Tifariti, despite being organized mostly for foreign guests and not the average Sahrawi, convincingly displayed POLISARIO (and the Sahrawis) as a transparent body fully capable of ruling a country responsibly. Let us hope these abilities will be used in the near future, and not the abilities of those marching in green uniforms.

We are the SDAR, and we are not joking.

2011-03-04T21:07:00.002+01:00

A brief account of Tifariti 27/2/2011, the 35th anniversary of the Saharawi Democratic Arab Republic.

The 35 year celebration of the declaration of the Saharawi Democratic Arab Republic was the time for POLISARIO to show their military strength, and make a clear statement that if nothing further happens, POLISARIO is an opponent to be reckoned with on the battlefield.

Furthermore, this was an opportunity for POLISARIO to once again prove themselves as a serious government that would manage their promised land wisely if given the opportunity. A great effort was made to show the foreigners that POLISARIO is a transparent government that plays by the rules.

The anniversary was celebrated in Tifariti, the military HQ of the liberated areas of Western Sahara, 300 or 400 km from the refugee camps in Algeria. There are no roads and the travel takes 7-11 hours in a Land Rover.

The program of the weekend was as follows:

Saturday the 26th: All important guests, foreigners and journalists arrived and settled in their tents, no official program before the next day.

Sunday the 27th: After breakfast people started to move towards the parade square. The president arrived at around 10.00, standing on the back of a jeep together with his generals, then shortly after, the military parade started.

The parade was very long, consisting mostly of regiments of marching soldiers. After the parade the president and other officials held their speeches. The seats on the platform of distinguished guests were almost empty by the time the last speech was over.

For lunch all VIPs (including the the official Norwegian delegation; us) were joined by his Excellency the president.

In the evening there was a concert, theater, and more speeches. The concert was slightly interrupted by rambling soldiers who were not allowed to enter. The concert continued smoothly only when the improvised fence surrounding the stage crashed down and the soldiers were able to join the crowds without much further noise.

Monday the 28th: In the morning there was a conference on sustainable development usage of the fragile nature in Western Sahara. Both conservation of species, the natural environment and clean energy solutions were presented and discussed.

Following the conference it was time for us to witness two mighty explosions in which POLISARIO honored the anti-landmine treaty by destroying a stockpile of landmines. After lunch the official program was over and we raced back to El Aioun in a tightly packed Toyota Land Cruiser.

The essence: This event told us that the SDAR is everything that a state should be, just without a land.

Are we now convinced that the Saharawi war machine will crush all resistance in the conquest of Sahara? And do we believe that the Sahrawis are ready to manage their land? Dear reader, please, read on to discover more of this magnificent story (more will come on this blog, soon!). Inshallah.

To us, the military parades seemed just a little bit too WW2. It consisted only of thousands of soldiers equipped with Kalashnikovs marching by, and displayed no vehicles. It is of course difficult to judge the capabilities of an army based solemnly on a parade, but let’s say that I do not share my students belief that a war can only lead to victory.

However I am much more optimistic about the abilities of POLISARIO to tackle the event of independence. Both my experience from the camps, and what I saw in Tifariti is that POLISARIO is very responsible and knows how to make people move.

35th Celebration of the Saharawi National Day

2011-02-24T21:16:00.001+01:00

The 27th of February 1976 The Polasario Front proclaimed the Saharawi Arab Democratic Republic. We are lucky enough to be able to participate in the celebration, which will take place in Tifariti in the liberated areas.

On the Sahara Press Service, the press agency of the Saharawi Republic one can find the following information:

SADR celebrates 35th anniversary in liberated territories

Shaheed El Hafed (Refugee Camps), February 24, 2011 (SPS) - The town of Tifariti, a symbol of resistance against the occupier, prepares to host Sunday the festivities marking the 35th anniversary of the proclamation of the Saharawi Arab Democratic Republic (SADR) in the liberated territories.

"By commemorating these festivities in Tifariti, we demonstrate more clearly that the Saharawi Republic exercises its sovereignty over the liberated parts of its national territory," organizers indicated.

The commemoration of the 35th anniversary of SADR counts on the presence of several official delegations to show their support for the decolonization of Western Sahara, occupied militarily since 1975 by the Kingdom of Morocco.

Moreover, the Wilayas organize Tuesday popular, cultural and sports festivities on this occasion, in the presence of "friends of the Saharawi people" from the five continents.

On the sidelines of the SADR anniversary, hundreds of athletes, from many countries, are expected Monday in the Wilaya of El Aaiun to take part in the "Sahara Marathon" in its 11th edition along with Sahrawi athletes.

(http://www.spsrasd.info/en/detail.php?id=16583)

In other words, it is very exciting times for Saharawis, Norwegians and around 300 other foreigners alike. We will be going to Tifariti by car, and are planning on staying for two days. We hope to see both military parades, the disarming of mines (which there are a lot of around the “wall of shame” which divides the occupied and the liberated areas – see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moroccan_Wall for more info), and whatever else the celebrations will consist of.

Pictures from the desert

2011-02-24T20:37:00.004+01:00

Marius and Bjørnar at the "internet café"

El Aaiun

Dressing up for my (preseumed fictional) wedding

The current participants of the project

Picture by Saharawi artist Madi

The hill close to our house where the goats are kept

Bjørnar making tea

Saharawi human rights activists arriving in the camps from the occupied areas

Failed Norwegian Church Aid-project in El Aaiun

Situations

2011-02-10T13:05:00.004+01:00

Marius writes:

This blogpost contains the first contriubtion to a collection of
situations in which you might just find yourself while living, working
and adapting to a new country and culture.

1) Sudden soap and perfume-attack:

After a long day of work and Arabic/Hassania lessons, we were out with
our host mother to look at the sunset from a small hill in the
outskirts of the Layoune Refugee Camp. Indeed a normal activity, the
sunsets in the desert are truly magical.

After watching the golden ball drop down behind the weak lights of
Tindouf, we headed home. On our way lived one of our host mother's
friends, and we went in to visit her. It was to be a (by Sahrawi
standards) very short visit, only an hour or so, as dinner was cooking
at home. Nevertheless, we entered and greeted mothers, brothers,
grandmothers, children, cats and goats alike. The greetings session is
a relieving and reassuring custom, and makes you feel welcome wherever
you are. We went into the living room, for the regular refreshments
and snacks.

The water and mango juice was served, accompanied by World Food
Programme Biscuits (to which Bjørnar exclaimed: "Are anybody
contemplating the fact that we are eating other people's WFP
biscuits?"). It was as tasty as that threesome can get, which is in
fact not bad at all. The conversation was flowing well, we were
showing and shown pictures of families and friends and whatnot.

A few moments later, we had slipped into a conversation in Norwegian
while our host mother and her friends enthusiastically discussed
something in Hassaniya. For some reason unknown, the hostess brought
forth a bucket containing various cleaning artifacts (fabric softener,
parfume, airfreshner, deodorant).

We perceived the initial spray of deodorant as a polite gesture,
indicating that perhaps this Norwegian delegation should entitle
itself to a few more weekly washes. However, when she moved onto the
fabric softener, we knew we were in for a proper cultural shock.

As the hostess continued to pour various soaps, lotions and
well-scented products over us (that is on our clothes, on our heads,
under our arms and all around), we could not help but burst into
laughter. We were literally rolling on the floor laughing, while the
Sahrawis present were amused by our confused amusement. It was a
situation to which no prep course could prepare us, and no
indoctrinations of cultural tolerance and understanding could prevent
our laughter. Our sole thought was: "This is freakin hilarous!".

Eventually, we were told that this intense spray-session was a
culturally accepted gesture, a remedy for the lack of general washing
facilities. It is a token of respect and friendship, really. We (and
our clothes) did indeed smell of soap and clean bathroom for the next
few days, whether this is an improvement is debatable. Regardless,
there were only good intentions behind it, and we now know another
unexpected thing to expect. We learn everything that cannot be taught.

Only in the Sahara!

Daily life the refugee camps

2011-02-10T12:54:00.001+01:00

I feel like writing a little bit about daily life in the camps. Part of this blog so far has been about the political situation, which of course is the background for why we, and indeed all the Saharawis are here. However, the lived everyday life is concerned with more pressing matters, and I will try to say a little about some of them.

If you think the Sahara desert is a hot place, you're very mistaken. At least this part of the desert, at this time of year. I don't have a thermometer, but I would guess it's around 5 degrees celcius, giver or take a little, from about 9 PM until about 12 AM. Then the sun slowly starts heating everything up – unless it's windy, which it often is. Then it may be seriously cold until about 3 or 4 PM. In practice, this means that when we have breakfast before school and dinner (around 10PM before we go to bed), sat on the floor, shivering whilst wrapped in fleece blankets. The last couple of nights, I've slept in woollen long-johns, a woolen shirt, a fleece jumper and thick socks – in addition to a thin sleeping bag and two blankets on top of me. People here have tents and small houses, but there is little difference in the temperature inside and outside. No wonder our entire family and half my class have a cold. I can feel my own throat swelling up as I write.

Another aspect of daily life is the unpredictability of things. For example, today only four students in my class showed up. The reason was that the gas had arrived, so people had to bring their empty gas containers and pick up new ones. I asked them, as nicely as I could, to let me know in advance when these things happen. They then replied that often, they didn't know themselves before it happened, except that the gas arrived roughly once a month. Imagine that – you don't know when you'll get gas next time for your stove! In addition to this, the water at the school has ran out. Rumors has it the water is roughly as unpredictable as the gas...

All in all, it seems to be true that the camps are well organised. On the other hand, well organised compared to what?

Teaching

2011-02-10T12:51:00.000+01:00

The goals for this project are many, and some of them has to do with our function in the camps. It is, after all, the teaching of English that our daily lives revolve around. At the moment, we have just less than 50 students divided between the three of us. The students are mainly women between the age of 18 and 25. In addition to teaching the students in the morning, we also teach around ten teachers who work in primary and secondary school here in the camps. We teach in very small classrooms with only notebooks, blackboard and chalk as tools. It is both liberating and very challenging. Some of our students have no English at all and don't know the Latin alphabet, whilst others speak almost perfect English. We have divided the students into three classes with different levels, and try to our best abilities to teach – despite our lack of formal qualifications.

We are also about to start teaching the same students IT. At the centre where we work, there are a few computers available – or rather one computer at the moment. As some of our students already work as secretaries, IT-skills are essential, but to some extent lacking. The challenge of course is to teach ten students at a time IT skills with one computer. Never mind the fact that the language of the computers is Spanish, and the language settings in OpenOffice is Arabic.

Of course, our goal is for the students to learn as much English and IT as possible. However, to be able to speak English is only part of the motivation. The other reason our teaching is important is simply because it gives the young people something to do every day. Many of the women and men in our classes have already got university degrees. Despite this, there aren't any jobs for them in the camps, except for the few positions as secretaries. From what I understand, the reason for the lack of men in our classes is that most of them have work to do in the daytime, paid or unpaid. Some drive taxis between the camps and Tindouf, whilst others work as teachers, do building work, work in the administration of the camps etc. The division between the gender, whilst I'm at it, is an interesting one, and an issue I will come back to in a later post. For now, I have to return to preparing lessons – something which takes some time when you're unexperienced, as any teacher will tell you.

Contrasts

2011-02-03T12:29:00.001+01:00

25.01.2011

Just when we though we'd started to figure out the life of the Saharawis, we're caught off guard. The other day, we started the day as usual with English lessons with our students. However, Abba, our contact in the camps, came and told us there was a delegation from the occupied territories arriving the same day, and that we should go and try to talk to them – which of course was an opportunity we didn't want to miss.

The people arriving from the occupied territories turned out to be human rights activists. Many of them participated in the protests in Western Sahara in November last year, and many of them had also at some point been to prison. We had heard stories about breaches of human rights by Moroccan authorities, amongst other things torture in prisons, but never actually spoken to someone who had experienced it. Needless to say, the celebration dinner (consisting of vast quantities of camel meat, including camel stomach, for those of you who are particularly interested), turned rather bleak when we started talking to the people whose presence we were celebrating.

In short, life in the camps is one of contrasts. On the one hand, everything is calm and quiet, and our days – as well as the normal life of the Saharawis living here – follows a fairly predictable, comfortable pattern. Then, there are the reminders as to why we are here. These people are refugees, unable to return to their home country. They are in a desperate situation which has lasted for 35 years. They live their lives here in the camps – but this is not their home. They put up their tents and build their houses, thinking that everything here in the harsh desert environment is temporary. This is not where they want to be, which the heated speeches made by the human rights activists illustrated. The Saharawis are about to lose their patience. As one of the activists pointed out; unless the international community steps in and helps solve this conflict, the Saharawis might again be on the verge of another war.

Past the checkpoint

2011-02-03T12:26:00.001+01:00

23.01.2011

When writing this, we've been in the refugee camps in the Sahara desert for about 48 hours. Not long by any standards, but the amount of new impressions don't match the time spent here. Although all three of us, Bjørnar, Marius and Elisabeth, have talked to Saharawis and former participants of the project who have been to the desert, it's been hard to imagine what to expect. We'll try to sum up our impressions to hopefully give you a better idea of our lives in the camps so far.

So far, the trip can be summed up as follows:
A bumpy start! The airport express train from Oslo was cancelled due to technical problems, which is not what you want when trying to catch a plane to another continent. Then it turned out the plane from Oslo to Paris was delayed, meaning that we had 15 mins in transit in Paris. Needless to say, we ran. It's not every day one can say that one has missed a plane, and then de-missed it again, but that's what happened. However, our luggage got stuck in Paris. Bye bye, toothbrush!

Arriving in Africa. We had a good few hours to wait in Alger, and decided to celebrate Bjørnar, who turned 20 years old that day. We had planned for a meal at the airport, but realised when we got there that the lack of cash machines would prove a problem. Luckily for us, an acquaintance we'd made at the lost-luggage counter took pity on us and lent us some money. Thus, the celebration was back on track with tuna-mushroom-cheese(?) pizzas.

Checkpoints of various kinds. In short; we've lost count of the amount of security controls, forms to be filled out and passports closely examined by people in uniforms. Algerian police enjoy putting up security checkpoints clearly only to cause inconvenience as nobody never tries to actually search you. The highlight was without doubt the hand luggage check on the tarmac of Algers International airport, in complete darkness. Thus, not a chance in a million to spot, well, anything really. However, after the last Algerian checkpoint between Tindouf and the camps, no one has asked to see any papers, and the trip onwards went smoothly, thanks to our friendly and competent contact, Abba, with his rather sturdy jeep.

The camps. The three of us are staying together in one family. Thus; we've got ourselves a new sister, brother in law and mother. Our sister speaks a little bit of English (sight of relief from those of us who don't speak Spanish or Arabic), so it is possible to talk with her. With the others, we use a mix of sign language, Spanish, French, Norwegian, English and Arabic. Confusing? Not at all. Hopefully, our Hassania (the dialect of Arabic spoken by the Saharawis) will pick up and we will be able to communicate more. Anyway, the family is great, and so far, all is well. The atmosphere has been easy and relaxed ever since the first moment making the stay so far more than pleasant.

We have been making bets on who will get ill first though....

(Curious fact of the day; the Saharawis drink a lot of tea with a lot of sugar. We had 14 cups yesterday. Beat that.)

Action speaks louder than words

2010-11-11T13:15:00.001+01:00

Life should have been more or less back to normal by now as it has been four days since we returned from 27th February (an administrative camp not to far from where we live) where we spent two days on a religious conference on human rights in the bible and the qu'ran, enjoying the luxuries of electricity and internet access. Also, seeing as Id Adha (an Islamic holiday in remembrance of Abraham's sacrifice of Ishmael. Same story as in the bible, but with the other son, and supposedly taking place in Mekka, where the Kaba is standing today) is coming up next week, the camp should be teeming with life and expectation. This, however, is not the case. Although people go about their business as usual, and preparations for the feast are being made, most are thinking more about their relatives and friends in the occupied areas than on whatever is going on here.

Last night Morocco made it pretty clear that their attendance at the informal meetings arranged between the two parts in the Western Sahara conflict, is nothing but an attempt to keep the UN happy. During the night before the last day of negotiations Moroccan forces attacked the tents set up outside El Aiun using (according to a friend of mine who just started working in the Saharawi media handling information coming from outside of the refugee camps) teargas and hot water, driving military vehicles through the tents, setting them on fire, and firing real ammunition, not rubber bullets as is sometimes used when police try to break up violent demonstrators. Until now, the demonstrations of the Saharawis has, according to our sources, been completely nonviolent, but as they were forced back into the El Aiun, many took to the streets rioting. Shops and banks has been set on fire, as has the local TV-station, and the city is in chaos. We have been told that between 20 and 30 Saharawis were killed, including a young boy that was hit by a car, and several hundred wounded (this was on tuesday, the 9th). The number of dead will probable rise in the next few days as wounded Saharawis keep away from the hospitals for fear of being arrested. The situation is, to put it mildly, out of control, and the pressure on Polisario to do something else than talking is growing. A lot of people were shocked when the Saharawi representatives decided to continue the meetings in the US after hearing about what the Moroccan military had done.

Most of the people living in “our” refugee camp now wants war, and even if Polisario is able to calm them down temporarily, there is no telling what will happen next fall, when the congress is to decide the future politics of the government. Last congress, the majority wanted war, but the leaders asked for just a little more time (originally they asked for just six more months) to try and find a peaceful solution. Four years has passed since then, and nothing has happened. After 35 years in limbo people no longer have faith in the UN and dialogue. For most, war seems like their best, if not to say only, chance of ever winning their independence.

Basicly what I wanted to mention!

2010-11-05T12:12:00.002+01:00

This is from another blog (http://www.codapso.org/en/node/1728) writing about some of the stuff I had written about myself. The post is a week old, and the number of people living in tents outside El Aiun is said to have passed 20 000. I would really like to know if anyone has heard about this in Norway. Polisario is c...alling on the UN to protect the people in the area, and to secure access to medicin, food, water and clothes, and to force Morocco to let the mediq in, but nothing hqs been done so far. The demonstrations has been going on for almost a month.

27 October 2010: Amnesty
International is calling on the Moroccan authorities to immediately
investigate the fatal checkpoint shooting of a 14-year old boy outside
a camp set up by Sahrawi protestors.Since 10 October 2010, thousands of Sahrawis have collectively left Laayoune to set up a camp in the desert about 10-13 kilometres east of the city. Some Sahrawi human rights defenders say that the camp
population has reached the tens of thousands; official sources reported
that there were 5,000 people last week in the camp.

Western Sahara is a territory contested between Morocco, which
annexed it 1975, and the Polisario Front, which calls for its
independence and runs a self-declared government in exile in the
Tindouf refugee camps in Algeria.

According to his relatives, Al-Nagem Al-Qarhi was shot dead on 24
October by Moroccan military officers, while in a car bringing supplies
to a camp set up by Sahrawi protesters demanding an end to their
economic marginalization by the Moroccan government.
“The disturbing details of this killing that must be
investigated immediately and transparently”, said Amnesty
International. “Morocco needs to show that it has not violated UN
standards on the use of firearms, or used excessive force as it chokes
off access, supplies and communications to the Sahrawi protest
camp.”

Al-Nagem died almost immediately after being shot in the kidney at
close range by Moroccan military forces as he sat in a car with six
others at a checkpoint, the victim’s sister Sayida has told
Amnesty International. The Moroccan Ministry of Interior has claimed that the car
“attacked a checkpoint”, and that the checkpoint was fired
on, but from another vehicle. Family members say the passengers
were seated when they were shot, and that they were bringing supplies
to relatives living in the protest camp. The other passengers in the car with Al-Nagem were also injured in the shooting, and then beaten by Moroccan police, according to Sayida’s testimony. The surviving victims were transferred
to a military hospital in the nearby city of Laayoune, where they were
found handcuffed to their beds when family members visited them the
next day. One has since been detained, and two taken in for
questioning. According to his family, Al-Nagem was buried the next evening by the Moroccan authorities, who have refused to allow his mother and siblings to see the body or tell them the location of the burial site.

The Moroccan military has kept a heavy presence around the camp,
established on 10 October by Sahrawis who left the city of Laayoune and
other Western Sahara cities en masse to demand improved job
opportunities and housing.Today a group of about ten Spanish journalists were prevented from entering the camp by the police. Last week, Moroccan officials are
reported to have used batons and teargas to prevent over a hundred
people travelling in cars from reaching the camp with supplies.
Amnesty International has called for the respect of Sahrawi
protesters’ right to freedom of assembly and warned that no
excessive force should be used to disperse protestors, in a letter
addressed last week to the Moroccan Minister of Interior.

Thanks to Codapso! (http://www.codapso.org/en/node/1728)

First Impressions

2010-10-14T17:19:00.000+01:00

In the north-western corner of Africa, where the vast Saharan desert meets the atlantic ocean, crammed between Morocco and Mauritania, lies West Sahara. This is not where we are currently situated. The fact that West Sahara has been under the control of Moroccan forces since 1975 has nothing to do with why we are not there at the moment. It is, however, the reason why we are where we are, which is the south-western corner of Algeria, in a refugee camp called El Aiun.

We have now been here for two and a half weeks, and it is becoming increasingly difficult to sum up our first impressions. Nevertheless, we will try and give a brief overview of what the first two weeks have been like.

After spending approximately eight hours on a plane, and somewhere between ten and elleven hours in airports, we landed in Tindouf at three o'clock in the morning. Here, we were picked up by our local contact, Abba Lehbib, and driven out into the desert. After a while, although it seemed like there was nothing else but sand outside, Abba stopped the car and told us that this was where we were going to live for the next three of four months. So, we pulled our luggage out of the car and entered a small yard surrounded by sandbrick houses. After a warm meal and an equally warm welcoming session the time had finally come to call it a day. A few hours later we woke up to our first day in the camps, and so the summing up begins.
In general, I think I can say that our experiences until now has been mostly positive. Our families are great, people are friendly and helpful, the nightsky is indescribable and yet, some of the sunsets has been able to completely put it to shame. Furthermore, it is surprising how fascinating it can be just to sit on a small hill on the outskirts of the camp staring into the vast brown, flat nothingness stretching into the horizon. Also, it is kind of strange, at night, seeing the lights from Tindouf, knowing that only 15 kilometres away they have running water, electricity, internet, and basicly all the luxuries the people in the camps lack. Still, it must be said that the biggest problem here is not the material standard, but rather people feeling frustrated about seemingly being forgotten by the world.
The teaching is getting easier (and hopefully also better) day by day. We teach two classes each, trying to cover three and a half different levels. We have not been able to start any extra projects yet, but Lars is planning to start interviewing people sometime next week, and Hodan is giving extra English classes to people who are not able to come to the Bucra Center (where we teach) during the day. (We kind of feel that we have to get started soon seeing as Fernando, our mexican friend down here has been able to start his own garden, find a local library and befriend it's owner, and is generally just running all over the place. =) In addition to Fernando there are surprisingly many foreigners in the camp. Germans, spaniard, a frenchman, two danes (that we have not met yet) and a swedish man).
The only thing that has been, and is, a slight problem is the internet availability. Three days before we arrived it actually rained pretty bad, and the internet connection in Abba's ministry was knocked out. Because of this, we do not know how often we will be able to update this blog, however, we hope that we can get connection on a slightly irregular basis.

Til next time, so long (and thanks for all the fish)!

This World

2010-05-12T12:35:00.001+01:00

What effect does discussion have
When the ears of this world are deaf
What does demonstrating change
When the eyes of this world are blind
What effect does goodness have
When the mind of this world is clouded by evil
What does waiting change
When this world forgets about it
What effect does respect have
When this world doesn't respect itself
What does being peaceful change
When this world fails to recognize it

What choices do we have
When all that matters to this world is war.

2010-05-12T12:13:00.002+01:00

2010-05-12T12:01:00.000+01:00

Hope and pride is written in their eyes

2010-05-12T10:56:00.003+01:00

South of the other refugee camps, in the middle of the beautiful sand dunes lies Dahla. The calmness and the goodness of the people meet you like the warm winds that blow across the sand dunes. The isolated location gives rise to the lack of many material things, but who needs this when the wonderful hospitality and care is so deeply rooted in its inhabitants.

Dahla is the perfect place for a filmfestival. The filmfestival that is arranged every year in Dahla attracts people from all over the world. The program covers various aspects of Saharawi culture and history and thus foreigners that present at the festival will enhance their knowledge about the Saharawi people and their situation. Also this event is a highlight for the population of Sahara as it attracts Saharawis not only from the other refugee camps, but also from various corners of the world to celebrate their identity and culture together.

The Saharawi culture is unique and the Saharawis protect and guard it carefully. The Saharawi identity is rooted in their culture and although change is a constant process many of their traditions are practiced the same way today as before the Moroccan occupation and before the Spanish colonization. As documentaries speaking about the rich Saharawi culture were shown at the filmfestival one could observe the pride in the eyes of the Saharawi audience as they were reminded once again of their heritage and origin. In addition to movies, the traditional camp that had been put up at the place of the festival gave a good picture of the traditional Saharawi life. It exhibited traditional artifacts used in the nomadic life in the “bedie”. Here one could also pass by to taste the traditional Saharawi tea, admire the extraordinary arts and crafts as well as fabrics and clothes, but most importantly feel the vibe of the amazing hospitality of the Saharawi people.
The program during the day consisted of learning about the Saharawi culture, but also attending various workshops related to expressing identity and culture through media. These workshops practiced writing stories, doing photography, acting, filming, recording and directing. Most of the workshops were organized by foreign teams who involved Saharawis in their work thus exchanging ideas and experiences.
In the evenings people gathered under the clear stars to watch movies and documentaries. One of the nights a documentary about the Saharawis situation was shown. This documentary covered all aspects of the conflict. It talked about the nomadic life of the people of the Sahara, the Spanish colonization, the freedom movements and the forming of Polisario, the Madrid agreement followed by the Moroccan and Mauritanian invasion, the war, the refugees, the building of the wall, the situation today with the extreme living conditions in the refugee camps in Algeria and the horrible human rights violations carried out in the Western Sahara that is still occupied by Morocco.
The documentary showed the Intifada, the peaceful demonstrations by Saharawis expressing their right to self determination. It portrayed Saharawis telling their story about being discriminated, tortured and imprisoned for reasons such as simply being Saharawi.
Watching the documentary touched me deeply, but what had the strongest effect was to watch it together with several dozen Saharawis who each and every one are personally affected by the conflict. All of them have family and friends in the occupied territories who are being suppressed and who can not live freely under the Moroccan authority. They all have family members who died in the war or while seeking refuge in Algeria.

The Saharawis are victims not only of deprived human rights and their right to live independently, but they are victims of economic interests that powerful countries have in their natural resources. It is unbelievable that the world can turn a blind eye to the situation of the Saharawis.
Where is the humanity? Where is the justice?

One thing is for certain, the unity of the Saharawis is stronger than the world's power greed. They've been through more than anyone though would be possible and they have not sacrificed this much just to give in to the injustice in this world.
To observe and feel the strength, persistence and unity of the Saharawis and the support that they receive from all corners of the world is what moved me the most during the time of the festival in Dahla.
The suffering of the Saharawi people will not continue for long. They have sacrificed and they have been patient, but the world has failed them. They are ready to take the situation in their own hands and to reclaim their rightful freedom.

Human rights forgotten?

2010-04-22T15:57:00.001+01:00

A few weeks ago a group of human rights activists from the occupied territories came to visit the refugee camps for one week. When they returned to La'ayoun they were met by 1500 Moroccan civilians who beat them at the airport. This is one of many events staged by Moroccan authorities to spark conflict between Morroccan and Saharawi people.

The conflict has lasted for 35 years, and while the refugees wait in the desert, the human rights situation in the occupied territories deteriorates. It is completely incomprehensible that the UN mission MINURSO does not have a mandate to monitor and report on the human rights violations committed by Morocco. Polisario has stated that it invites the UN to monitor the human rights situation in the refugee camps. Morocco however, will not accept that MINURSO should have a human rights mandate in the occupied territories.

How is it possible for Morocco to keep the UN from monitoring the human rights situation? To achieve this, it is necessary to have powerful friends in the Security Council. With France on its side, Morocco can ensure that MINURSO does not get a human rights mandate. This is because France is a permanent member in the Security Council, and can use its veto against an enlargement of MINURSO's mandate.

That MINURSO has still not been given a human rights mandate shows not only that Morocco finds support in France, but also that the attention given to the conflict by the international community is minimal. Given the severity of the human rights violations in the occupied territories, and the difficult situation for the refugees in the camps in Algeria, it is incomprehensible that the international community seems both paralyzed and indifferent to the conflict.

What will it take to make the United Nations and the international community realize the injustice of the Moroccan occupation, and assume their responsibility to protect the human rights of all people?

Aid as a political game

2010-04-08T12:12:00.001+01:00

If a family here was to live on their rations of aid, they would eat meat two times a year, and by no means have enough food. The reason why people here have the food that they need, is not thanks to the aid that they receive, but rather due to the family members that they have that work abroad, like in Spain. Those who do not have family abroad, are still included, due to the solidarity and collective sharing of the people. In this way, the real aid comes from their own families. Further, another type of support that really makes a difference, is the opportunities that countries like Algeria, Cuba and Libya give young Saharawis to study in secondary school and in university for free.

What is the purpose of aid when it is unable to cover the needs of the refugees here? The leader of the Saharawi journalist union UPES, Malainin Lakhal, told us that in his opinion, the main reason to uphold the aid flows is for the Saharawi state to maintain good relations with as many foreign countries as possible. The Western Sahara conflict is a forgotten conflict in many ways, and so the idea is that the countries that give aid, will also give more attention to the conflict. Even though the media coverage of Aminatou Haidar’s hunger strike was good in countries like Spain, the urgency that is needed to resolve the conflict is not present. After 35 years of waiting in the hot desert, insufficient amounts of aid does not suffice. If countries like Norway were truely interested in ending this conflict, they would contribute with political support, recognizing the independent Saharawi state, and speaking out against the grave human rights abuses committed against Saharawis in the territories that Morocco occupies. A few potatoes and some wheat will not enable the Saharawi refugees to return to their rightful homeland.

2010-04-01T16:22:00.002+01:00

Our sister's wedding

2010-04-01T16:04:00.000+01:00

Plates and cuttlery, tabels and casseroles, blankets and cushions, soap and water in big quantities were just some of the things that were brought to our family’s house the days before the wedding of our sister, Fatimatu. The Saharawi traditional wedding celebrations are unique and absolutely amazing. Being a part of the family that organizes the wedding, we were able to get a wole new impression and a better view of this special event.

The Saharawi wedding celebration is held at the house of the bride and her family. In Saharawi tradition the freshly baked husband and the wife will move to a house or tent near the wife’s family after the wedding. The wedding will last for two or three days. The first day is the day of the bride and the second day is the day of the groom. These two days are held for the family, extended family and friends who come as guests to the big tent that is put up near the bride’s family. The bride and the groom are themselves not present at this big celebration. The third day the bride has a seperate, small party with her closest friends and the groom does the same with his friends.

Every wedding is slightly different, but this is what we experienced at our family’s celebration.
The first day of our sister’s wedding was a Wednesday, so Tuesday afternoon and evening we were busy helping the family cutting vegetables, puting up the tents and organizing things for the next day. We also had our henna made on our feet and hands. Our sister, Fatimatu, spent the day in Tindouf, going to hammam, getting henna and braids. Wednesday morning Maria and I met with some of our student at the school where we teach English. We did not meet to have an English lesson with them, but to pick them up and take them to the wedding together with the goat that Maria and I bought for Fatimatu as a gift. Its Saharawi tradition to bring gifts to the wedding accompanied by hunking cars and lots of noise. When we arrived to the family, the goat was tied to the big tent and our students were invited in to make tea. At noon lunch was served to all the guests and the camel that was killed the same morning served its purpose.
In the afternoon more cars loaded with gifts arrived to the family. Typical gifts are things that are useful for the house of the new couple such as blankets, tea sets, cushions and sofas. In the evening more guests came to celebrate, drink tea and have dinner.
The next day the bride stayed in the house of her sister, which is close to the rest of the family. Her she was visited by her friends and later on by her husband and his family. At noon a band consisting of four musicians and a singer came to perform in the big tent. The people formed a circle around a free space in the middle of the tent. This free space was used as the dancefloor and as the brides sisters, of course we had to spend a couple of songs trying to imitate the Saharawi dance style.
After the music celebration, the lunch (a second camel) was served and the guests returned to their homes.

To us the wedding celebration was a great experience. To be able to contribute and actively take part in the activities here is what brings us the most joy. We feel that as every day goes by we become a greater part this society and Sahara becomes a greater part of us.

2010-03-18T18:39:00.001+01:00

Impossible to Describe

2010-03-18T15:01:00.000+01:00

The last couple of weeks have passed so quickly. It is surreal that we have been here for almost three months now. We are currently waiting for a reply from the Algerian authorities whether they will accept to extend our visas for additional months. We are really hoping for an extension as we feel that our presence here has a big effect on both the people we meet and on us. This week we organized workshops at the centre where we teach English daily. The workshops were related to the campaign against the illegal fishery agreement between the European Union and Morocco. To have the opportunity to make slogans and banners and to be able to voice their opinion on a video means a lot to our students. They all can not believe that the exploitation of their natural resources can go on without any major interference! To know that their pictures may have an effect on the future decisions regarding their country gives them hope, but the situation as a whole is nothing but frustrating.
We learn so much about the Saharawi people through our daily activities with them. Still after more than three decades in the refugee camps, the strength and the stamina of the Saharawi people is unbelievable and impossible to describe.

2010-03-11T15:37:00.001+01:00

Marathon back to War?

2010-03-11T14:31:00.001+01:00

The Sahara marathon is one of the biggest events organized in the refugee camps. Athletes from various parts of the world come to the refugee camps to participate in this demanding race.

One of the aims of the marathon is to increase the publicity around the Saharawi issue. The foreign participants of the marathon live with families in the refugee camps throughout their stay. This way they also lean about the Saharawi culture and way of living. They observe and experience the life of the people in the refugee camps with its amazing hospitality, love and care as well as the difficulties that the refugees face everyday.

The start of the marathon was celebrated with music, children in the traditional Saharawi costumes, Saharawi men riding camels, the presence of President Mohamed Abdel Aziz and many people both foreign and Saharawi. After the start of the marathon, Maria and I met the president thanks to Mohamed. Among the crowd that would like to have a word with the Saharawi president was also an elderly woman. She expressed her opinion about the current situation and she strongly believed that the Saharawi people should return to war was waiting for more than 30 years has not lead to any progress. We later heard that most Saharawis agree with her and that although they do not like war, they believe it is better than waiting in the Algerian desert for an unknown amount of time. Saharawi people are peaceful people who have the right to return to their country. Of course everyone would prefer a diplomatic and non-violent solution, but the Saharawi have tried everything and feel forgotten. To return to war can seem like a way to remind the world of their situation and it might lead to an actual solution between the Morocco and Western Sahara. The conflict in itself is nothing but unjust and it is unbelievable that it has been going on for more than three decades.

Solidarity

2010-03-11T14:22:00.001+01:00

The Western Sahara refugee camps truly lives up to its reputation of being one of the best organized refugee camps in the world. Although the people living here have close to nothing in terms of material things, the care and the solidarity that they show amongst each other and towards all that support them is amazing. The Saharawi people are still waiting for a peaceful solution and to finally be able to return to their homeland. In spite of the fact that they are living in a refugee camp, the Saharawis know that life must continue. All children go to school and the good relationship between Algerians and Saharawis allow young Saharawis to attend Algerian high schools and universities. Although there is close to no paid work in the refugee camps, most Saharawis return to the camps after having received their education. Some work as teachers in one of the primary or secondary schools. Others work in the administrations or hospitals of the camps. Many young, well educated people work as volunteers in various institutions in the camps. One such institution is “Casa de Mujeres”, which is a school where women can learn languages and how to use a computer in order to work in the administration of the camps later. They also learn about and discuss health issues especially related to the women and the babies. The solidarity that the Saharawi people show is immense and this along with the strong bonds between family members and the wish to help each other drives many Saharawis back to the refugee camps and their people.
The strong community spirit creates the frame around the well organized refugee camps.
The supplies of food and necessities such as gas and soap arrive once every month and is carefully divided between the refugees. The women of the camps organize this distribution and together they ensure that everyone gets their share. The women are responsible for many things in the refugee camps and in practice they run the camps. However, the decision-making lies with the men who often hold the highest positions.

Generally, in a traditional Saharawi family, the man is the source of some income and thus often also the one with the power in terms of making the major decisions. The woman on the other hand is primarily responsible for the household, the food and the children. This is a full time job and especially the afternoons and evenings are busy as the husband and the children will be at home. Due to this, the initiatives that offer language courses etc to women are held in the mornings until midday. At the same time most of the institutions function as kindergardens, so that a small child should not be an obstacle to aquire a new skill.

The camps offer many possibilities taking into consideration that they are refugee camps. The open culture welcomes everyone to take part in various activities. This includes people with special needs. Every camp has a school for disabled youngsters and special programs to take care of disabled elderly. The students at the schools learn to draw, write and read just like in any other school. In addition they learn how to make arts and craft as well as artifacts and material that is useful for the life in the refugee camps. These range from scarfs and clothes to doors and tables. The schools for the disabled also focus on integrating its students into the society. There are exchanges between the students at the school for disabled and the other schools. Both parts have much to learn from each other. Some of the students at the school for disabled attend one of the other schools regularly in the afternoons. The schools for disabled also offer sport activities and organize competitions between the schools in the different camps. Recently five young Saharawis were chosen to compete in the paraolympics in 2011. This is a big inspiration to many of them and also another chance to try to tell the world about the situation of the Saharawi people. Hopefully the world leaders will help us to bring an end to this conflict and let the Saharawi people return to their rightful land.

The Saharawi Music and Dance are Twins

2010-03-11T14:14:00.000+01:00

Article by Iwaly Dadi February 2010

Around the world there are many kinds of music and dance. In Western Sahara there is a special music and dance style that reflects the Saharawi culture and expresses their happiness, sadness, hopes and aspirations.

The Saharawi music is similar to the Mauritanian because most Mauritanians speak the same language that we speak. Our language is called Hasania. However, we have our own, more modern music. Many Saharawi songs talk about our problems, as we are refugees waiting to return to our homeland. The songs talk about women and children whose husbands and fathers went to the war and never came back. They talk about death, about life in the refugee camps, about religion and about asking God to help us. Some of the songs are about the uprising and the civil protests against the actions carried out by the Moroccan authorities in the occupied Western Sahara.
The songs talk about the hope to return to our homeland. When I listen to our music it makes me think about my family, my little brothers and my parent's advices. I wonder how their lives are and what they are doing. I remember the good times when I was playing football with my friends in the sand with bare feet.

When talking about Saharawi music, dancing has to be mentioned. A Saharawi singer once said that the music and the dance are twins. Trilling is also a part of the Saharawi music culture. The women trill to express happiness. They trill when their children pass the exams, when there is a wedding, when a family member or friend comes back after having spent time in another country and so on.

We have many singers in the refugee camps both men and women, old and young people. They sing for the national ceremonies and at the weddings. At the wedding parties the singer and his band plays in a big tent. This is the place where the man and the woman get married. The audience forms a circle around the middle of the tent. The singer asks two or more persons to dance. When they finish, others take over. Both men and women dance at weddings. The weddings are also good opportunities for people to show themselves as youth may find their future partners at ceremonies such as these. To attend a Saharawi wedding is an unforgetable experience and after having experienced one, you will look forward to the next. You can see the beauty of the women and the men when they dress up for the weddings and move to the music that brings them so much joy.

I really enjoy Saharawi music. It makes me feel alive. It both reminds me of my chldhood and makes me think about my future and about what I hope to be. However, it also makes me think about the Saharawi's situation and about the human rights violations that are carried out by Moroccan authorities against Saharawis everyday.

One Saharawi singer says in his song: “Salam, Salam where is Salam... hoping to live in peace that will hopefully spread not only to my country, but to all.”

Inside the Tent

2010-03-11T13:24:00.001+01:00

Article written by Iwaly Dadi January 2010

The Saharawis in the refugee camps are living in cloth tents. All the family members including the father, the mother and the children are living in one tent where they sleep and eat. The tent is called the Jaima and the women have the main responsibility for it. They look after it and make sure it is tidy and in a good condition. The Saharawi people struggle because of the extreme weather conditions which make life in the refugee camps very difficult.

Life under the Jaima changes depending on the weather conditions. When it rains the water gets into the tent and soaks everything. When it is cold the people have nothing to heat the tent with. On the other hand, when it is hot the extreme heat makes life really hard. The Saharawis live under the mercy of nature. When the conditions are normal life is OK, but when it changes we start to worry.

The Jaima can also be dangerous. Under windy conditions something sharp may fall on the tent and hurt the people inside it. My mother gets worried when she sees the weather change. She asks God to stop the wind as it will be hard for her to repair the tent again. It took her a long time to sow it.

We have mixed feelings under the tent. We think about both the difficult and the good things. This is how the Saharawis can fight the circumstances they are in.

The hospitality of the Saharawi people is unique. Our jaimas are open all the time and we greet everyone that comes to us. When someone comes and says Salam Alaikum, the people will greet him and make him feel at home. The Saharawis show a special hospitality towards guests. The tea is a symbol of the Saharawi's generousity. They won't let you go before you have had tea with them. The tea session is very traditional and there are many details about it.

The Saharawis drink three cups of tea, each one with its own story. They say that the first one is bitter like life, the second one is sweet like love and the third one is smooth like death.

If you have a chance to visit the Saharawi families in their tents, the delicious tea, the mint smell and the warmth of the family will give you an unforgettable experience. Despite the difficulties that the Saharawis face, there are always moments of joy and happiness.

The tent is the temporary house for Saharawi refugees until they return back to their homeland. They live far away in exile for a human goal. The goal is the right for all nations all over the world to live free and independent and to enjoy their natural resources. The Saharawis look forward to a bright future with freedom and democracy. By letting the Saharawis decide on their own future, the current situation will end. It will bring an end to the suffering as well as the life in the tents, which now have lasted for more than three decades.

Caring for eachother

2010-02-18T16:21:00.000+01:00

We are in a refugee camp. There are no paid jobs, there is limited amounts of food, there is no electricity, but there is love and care.

A few weeks ago Maria and I visited Dajla. It is one of the refugee camps and it is situated far away from all the other camps. Dajla is unique not only due to its location, which is in the middle of the sand dunes, but also because the people living there are more isolated than the people in the other refugee camps. The life in Dajla is more calm. People have more time for each other and taking care of each other is their main priority. There is no paid work in Dajla, but the organizations there are some of the best run organizations I have seen. There are several schools were women learn how to make carpets, clothes, bags, scarfs and artifacts that they can sell on the market. These schools also give the women the possibility to learn languages such as Spanish, French and English, learn how to use a computer and how to use cameras and develop the pictures. These type of initiatives might seem small, but they make a huge difference to many of the women. The fact that the woman is not dependent on the man is very important also here. Money is power in many ways...

These women do not only care for themselves and their family, but also for the whole population of Dajla. Some of the women are now making 7000 school uniforms for the children of the camp. All of this without getting paid for it. It seems as if the humanitarian aid between the people in the camps is stronger than the humanitarian aid that the Saharawis receive from other countries and NGOs.

In Dajla we also visited a school for handicaped. This school has hardly any resources or material, but it is a place where they can learn to do something and to socialise. The school’s main goals are to give everyone an education, to integrate them into the society and to teach them how to live as independently as possible. It is wonderful that such initiatives and schools exist here and it is amazing that they seem to work more effectively than many such initiatives in our country.

The continued oppression of the Saharawi people

2010-01-28T15:58:00.000+01:00

Today we had a meeting with a Saharawi human rights organisation, that works with the human rights violations committed by the Moroccan government against the Saharawi people in Western Sahara.

There are over 500 missing Saharawi persons, and many of them are believed to have died in Moroccan prisons. The majority of these were not even political activists, but were abducted simply due to their Saharawi identity.

Many of those detained in Moroccan prisons are tortured and maltreated in overcrowded spaces. We have seen many photographs of those who have been abused, also outside the prisons. We met with a man who had himself been imprisoned due to his political activism. On the 21st of May 2005, Saharawi demonstrations against Moroccan oppression were initiated as a peaceful intifada. The protests were severly cracked down on, and the man we met was one of those detained. That he shared his story with us is one of the stongest things I have experienced. The Moroccan soldiers came to his house, and sexually abused his sister and his mother while he was there. He was then taken to a Moroccan prison, where he was tortured for several days. When he was finally brought before a tribunal, the judge told him that he could have his self-determination in the Moroccan prison. Clearly the tribunals are not independent, and will not give you a fair hearing.

Right now there is a Spanish judge who wants to bring some of the Moroccan responsibles of the human rights abuses to court in Spain. Hopefully, this can succed. However, the Spanish government is not actively promoting the Saharawi cause. While the Spanish people have done very much to support the Saharawi, the government has not yet denounced the human rights abused committed by Morocco. Spain has strong commercial interests in Western Sahara, and has access to 35 % of the phosphate of the occupied territories, as well as gaining from the EU fisheries deal with Marocco, that opens up for EU fishing on the coast of Western Sahara. A group of EU lawyers has deemed this illegal, as international law forbids the exploitation of the natural resources of a occupied territory without the consent of its people.

When it comes to the French government the situation is worse. Due to its close relations with Marocco, it has persitently used its veto in the UN Security Council to stop the MINURSO from getting a mandate to protect human rights. This means that the UN force in place cannot protect the Saharawi people from Morroccan abuses. The MINURSO force was installed to secure the popular referendum over the fate of Western Sahara. However, the referendum has still not taken place. Meanwhile, MINUSRO forces are allocated twice the amount of funding that the refugee camps get in total.

The dire human rights situation in the occupied territories make it even more clear that without a political solution the Saharawi people cannot be free.

2010-01-21T15:41:00.002+01:00

Giving birth in the desert

2010-01-21T15:20:00.003+01:00

A few days ago one of the sisters in my family told me her story of pregnancy.
Being pregnant in the refugee camps must be so difficult and very dangerous. There is little health care and the risks are many. My sister told me that the first time she was pregnant, she was pregnant with twins. It was one boy and one girl. When the day came that she gave birth to them, she lost her babies. This tragedy repeated itself and the baby boy that she gave birth to a year or so later also died during childbirth. As she told me this I was in shock, but her face didn't show any sign of sadness. As a matter of fact not much emotion at all. It was as if she had talked about the loss of her babies a houndred times before and with time had managed to block out the emotions connected to the memory.
Suddenly her eyes lightened up and she smiled as she looked at Sheyach, her 6 months old baby boy. Sheyach had survived. Sheyach did not get hurt during birth, but his mother lost much blood and she is still recovering.
Sheyach is the centre of attention in our family. Everybody that comes in will hold him, feed him, play with him and talk to him. He is unique and very special. The family believes in his strength and they have even started feeding him camel meat and making him taste the Saharawi tea, so I am sure he will become a strong, intelligent Saharawi.
I have now been with Sheyach's family for 2 weeks and I've only heard him whine once. This baby really never cries. He is never left alone and always surrounded by love and laughter. It is amazing how the family here do everything together. There is no destinction between adult and child. There is no such thing here as "adult time" or "for adults only". The family is one and they share everything. The bonds between the family members and also amongst the Saharawis are very strong.

I want to tell one more pregnancy story. When the grandmother in our family was 9 month preganant, she rode a camel all alone in the Saharawi desert. She was on her way from one place to another when she suddenly had to give birth. She had no choice but to climb off the camel and give birth all alone in the sand. There was nobody around to help her. Luckily it went ok and nothing happened to the newborn baby girl, named Mula. The mother cut Mula's navel chord and rapped her in a blanket. She climbed back on the camel with the baby in her arms and rode to her destination.

These two true stories are examples that show the strength of the Saharawi people. It shows their determination and their resistance. Together it represents both the importance of ceasing the day and the hope for a better future.

Marhaba

2010-01-14T12:11:00.004+01:00

The stars in Buccra are the most beautiful I have ever seen, and they have marked the beginning of a wonderful stay. We've been here for less than a week, and already I feel like a part of the family.

These few days have been full of new experiences. Everyday we drink the Saharawi tea, and put on our beautiful melhaffas. We have even had time to get henna for our hands, and I like mine better like this. The family includes us in all parts of their lives, and we have already been to a Saharawi wedding with its traditional dance. We have had two days of teaching and the students are great. In the afternoon we have Arabic lessons with a very good Arabic teacher called Mohammed.

What strikes me most with the people we have met, and the family we live with is their enormeous warmth and openness. The ability to include others the we they do is something I think most Norwegians could learn from. Some of the young people and the children in our family speak Spanish, but many just speak Hassaniya. Still, we communicate well and their warmth shines through.

There are many humanitarian organisations here that run different projects of all kinds, but far too few work with the root of the problem,- the political situation and the Moroccan occupation of Western Sahara. We are planning to distribute a petition on the illegal fishing outside the coast of Western Sahara, and the fishing agreement the EU and Morocco. We will work with the Polisario, and hopefully distribute it across the different camps. The campaign is run by different European organisations, and you can read more about it on www.fishelsewhere.eu.

Mæesemallah!

LOOK OUT, THERE ARE MINES!

2009-11-26T17:02:00.000+01:00

The following text is written by Lwaly Dadi Ramdan. He has studied English with previous volunteer groups and is one of our friends in the camps.

The war stopped in Western Sahara in 1991, but there are still victims. Every year people die and are injured by the mines. The mine situation is alarming. There are thousands of mines waiting to explode in all of Western Sahara both in the Occupied and Liberated Territories. All the Saharawis living here are in great danger.

Many of the refugees in Algeria want to live as nomads in the Liberated Territories during the rainy season. The land is good for planting and people want to benefit from the nature. Many families plan to go there but there is one problem: the dangers of mines. All family members, women, children and old people will be in danger – especially the children.

There is an organisation working in the Liberated Territories called Land Mine Action. They work with cleaning the land of the mines and pointing out zones that are dangerous, zones that are less dangerous and zones that are safe. But there is another problem: Flooding. When the floods come, the mines change places. For many years, the Saharawis were used to walking in any place they wanted. Now, there is the wall and there are mines. So I have to beware in my land. Everywhere. Look out! There are mines under your feet!

I will tell you my cousin's story. He was with his father in the Liberated Areas as nomads looking after their sheep. Suddenly, he changed direction and minutes after he walked on a mine. He lost one of his feet and his father was hurt too. It was a hard time for the family. It was also an incredible time for me. I was studying in Algeria. I heard about him late because communication wasn't available like now. When I went back home I got out of the car and saw his injury. That moment really affected me deeply. I felt for him, for the others who lost their lives, for those who lost body parts and for the next victims. Who will it be?

I feel worried because my family is planning to live as nomads soon because of my grandparents. Their health is not good and they want to drink the milk and breath Sahara's air. At first it seems like a good thing to benefit from the nature, but on the other hand I'm afraid of the mines.

What crime did innocent people commit to be victims of mines? I hope it's time that the world will focus on this land and make more efforts to force Morocco to sign the UTAWA treaty which prevents the use of mines. I hope to see my land one day without mines and without weapons. Many wishes to the families who want to go and live as nomads. Safe travels!

Under The Surface

2009-11-26T16:29:00.003+01:00

Not many people from the outside world have heard about the Saharawis, much fewer get to see the inside of the refugee camps. Most of the foreigners (read Spanish people) who visit the camps come in delegations and stay for one or maybe two weeks. The delegations we have seen pass through have been students, scientists, activists or medical staff. These groups of engaged and interested Europeans obviously want to see as much as possible on the little time they have, so they often travel from camp to camp and stay only a couple of days in each place. Being busy traveling around provides the visitors with a lot of information. It lets them meet many different people, they get to take a lot of photographs and hear many different stories.

However, there are a lot of things one can not see when passing through the camps like most people tend to do. You can not see that the eight year old boy you just photographed is in reality twelve. Nor can one see that almost every second woman suffers from anemia caused by malnutrition.

The Saharawis treat their guests in the most hospitable way and serve every piece of valuable food to the foreigners who stop by on short visits. But these rich meals are far from the normal, every day food composed by donations from organizations like the EU and the WFP. Most of the food does not hold a minimum standard of quality. The flour given by WFP is not good enough to make bread and the oil donated by the US is not exactly virgin olive oil. The donations to the camps have not been reconsidered the last 30 years, so the food they receive is aimed on people living in short term needs. Now generations are growing up on these fable gifts from the north.

The children we live with suffer from constant infections. Diarrhea and vomiting is something the families experience on a almost a weekly basis due to bacterias that hit their weak immune systems. You never forget the first time you see a diaper filled with blood. This is the harsh reality of the refugees. Behind their smiles and their more than welcoming gestures their bodies weaken day by day.

They say that a photo can say more than a thousand words. My experience from the last three months is that the contrary can be just as true.

Aid or not?

2009-10-29T17:31:00.003+01:00

A few months ago, I nervously crammed graphs, definitions and theories before my long-feared IB exams in economics. Among the things I studied were some of the basic concepts of development, including positive and negative aspects of “aid” and other humanitarian initiatives. Last Saturday, these theoretical learnings were shown to me in practice as we went for a walk a French man, Jean Francois Debargue, who has lived in the camps for more than two years, working with desert gardening. According to Jeans's experience some of the projects that other countries establish in the refugee camps - although with good intentions – often lead to the wrong results.

The vast majority of humanitarian initiatives in the camps involves the Saharawis receiving something. Wheat comes from the European Union, hermetical oil is shipped in from the United States and sugar comes in large packs from Spain. The women distribute these foods to each part of the camp (so-called “dairas”) and then equally between the families by a person in each “barrio” (the divisions of a “daira”). This aid is absolutely essential for survival in the camps and sadly, the amount of food per person has not increased significantly over the last 30 years. Hence, there is a lot of malnutrition and the children here often look far younger than they really are.

Arguably, aid has also created a culture of dependency. A crucial part of Jean's project has therefore been to offer a meaningful activity and at the same time teach some skills of vegetable production that can be applied once the Saharawis return to their homeland. However, this process hasn't always been easy, paradoxically much due to the willingness of other organisations to “help out” in his initiatives.

Jean gave the telling example of some visitors from Spain that came down to see the gardens, liked the idea and decided to “facilitate” the project by sending down a hoard of Spanish workers for a few weeks to complete the construction. With good intentions and funding from the Spanish state the project was completed in a much shorter time than people in the camps would have managed to build the gardens themselves. However, whilst the gardens were ready to grow potatoes, carrots and other vegetables, the Saharawis that were meant to build them in the first place now lacked a sense of ownership and responsibility to initiate the planting. Consequently, the gardens were still in need of external supervision in order to carry out the planting.

Jean also told the contrasting example of an old man who made a garden entirely by himself. For years to come there will probably be vegetables planted here as the old man has a sense of responsibility and ownership of his garden. He put a lot of time and effort into building robust stone fences, making pumps for water and planting the seeds. Naturally, he won't let this hard labour go with nothing.

Naturally, this is just one example of aid gone wrong and there are many projects here in the camps that have been very beneficial to the community (such as the two schools where we teach). However, according to Jean, perhaps the biggest problem of them all is that while all these initiatives probably come with good intentions, it is also a way for other countries to hide behind a “humanitarian mask” to avoid the real political issue of Saharawi independence. Countries such as the United States, France and Spain have the last decade almost solely answered the political problem of Western Sahara with humanitarian means. The French government, for example, funds Jean's project with significant amounts, but has at the same time silently supported the Moroccan occupation with abstentions on important United Nations resolutions about the referendum in Western Sahara. So is it “aid”? Or is it a way to avoid the real political issues?

The world is watching...

2009-10-16T19:22:00.004+01:00

..in silence?

A couple of weeks ago we wrote about a conference "Saharawis in Algeria". Student activists from the occupied Western Sahara came to the camps. When they returned to Casablanca they got arrested by Moroccan police. Today you can read about this in Norway's biggets newspaper
here.

I just called to say...

2009-10-16T17:03:00.006+01:00

Our families and friends have already experienced how terribly bad the telephone connection is in the Sahara desert. A real conversation is hardly possible. .

So, I thought I would use the blog to describe what I have been doing here the past month..
I have learned how to...

-dress myself in the traditional “melheffa” that Ida and I wear every day.
-sleep on the floor with all the women in my family (around 8 people in a small room)
-carry 10 liters of water on my shoulder the few kilometers back home from the “store”
-make the sweet Saharawi tea which takes about an hour (believe me, it sound easier than it is)
-write and read basic Arabic words and tell myself that I understand a basic conversation (thanks to my teacher Mohamed)
-greet someone in Hassanya (the dialect of Arabic spoken by the Saharawis). This ritual can take up to five minutes! Jekel al Hier.
-milk and feed goats (this needs to be done twice a day)
-do “the dishes” in cold water without soap
-dance like a Saharawi, but not near the oldest man in the family. He can not hear, see or even be near people who talk about dancing or music.
-not shower for a month, but still feel pretty fresh(!).
-wear “henna” on my hands and feet in beautiful patterns
-speak in Spanabic (a funny mixture of Spanish, French and Arabic) with my family and people I meet.

A womans work

2009-10-15T17:59:00.001+01:00

I thought finding the time to write would be the biggest problem here, but finding the right time when it comes to the weather is even more essential. It's about 40degrese Celsius outside and I'm laying on the floor so close to the window(meaning a small hole in the wall) that I get traces of a chicken fence pattern on my face.

My melheffa is soaked in sweat. A melheffa is a three meter piece of fabric that the women here gracefully wear everyday. Is is one of the many Saharawi traditions that are so important and alive in this society.
Ane and I chose to wear the melheffa during our stay in a desperate attemt to blend in, but also to show that we support their struggle towards the independence of their country. The melheffa along with their language (Hassania), their tea and their derrah. Is to show their identity and their unity.

We try as best we can to understand and adapt to their culture and everyday life. But no matter how much interaction you've had with estranged cultures before, the life in the camp will come as a shock to any globetrotter.
For me as a Nordic woman used to my personal goals and being just me, myself and I have a difficult time getting used to this society.

You can say that these women are strong and have control of the family and the household, but when
it comes to the world outside these brick walls. I see that the men have almost total control.

Ida

Dinner Talks

2009-10-15T17:26:00.001+01:00

A funny conversation developed yesterday during dinner as I ate couscous with Bashri, the fifteen year-old boy in my family. We started talking about the climate in Sahara. The first two weeks here have been very warm with temperatures up to 40 degrees Celsius in the middle of the day. Bashri, however, assured me that I will miss this weather when the cold starts to set in.
“During the night you will need at least three blankets to keep warm” he warned me and pointed towards the collection of colourful, acryl blankets in the corner. I told him that Norway too is a very, very cold country: “During the winter, we even have snow.”
“But how many blankets?” he asked.
To this I didn't really know what to respond. How many acryl blankets are needed to keep warm in a sand house in Norway? I didn't want to explain the whole concept of isolation and electrical heating, so I simply said I thought three or four would be sufficient. But this is something I have yet to find out!

Army Dreamers

2009-10-08T17:10:00.008+01:00

The Norwegian parliament elections were held the same day we left for the camps. For the whole summer I campaigned for my political party, knowing that it was important for the future of my country that the sitting government would be reelected – fortunately it was. Actually the last five years or so of my life has been filled with politics - through my studies, my work and my friends. I have always said that I believe in politics; mainly because politics affect everything in our society like our children, our food, our elderly and the education and even the structures of our relationships.

However, after only a few weeks in the Sahara desert I have realized something that I guess I have known for a long time: politics have not served everyone equally. But few have been betrayed more by politics (or should I say political powerlessness) as the Saharawis. My new friend Mohamed told me that many Saharawis no longer see politics as a solution. They have had enough of talk, plans and promises. Since the ceasefire in 1991, the international society has done nothing for the Saharawis. After 34 years as refugees in the unbearable heat of the Algerian desert, many Saharawis now only see war as a a solution to end these sufferings. ”We have done everything by the book, no terror, no actions of violence since the ceasefire. But this kind of behavior does not turn heads in the UN or the EU. We need to do something. Everyone in the camps feel the same way.”

At this point I do not know what to say. So I try with: ” What about your children – that may be hurt in a war?”. But Mohamed tells me that the children would be safe in Algeria in case of a war. The war would naturally unfold itself by the border of the occupied areas. Before I have the time to say anything Mohamed quickly adds that a war also would ruin the good and peaceful label the Saharawis have obtained over the last couple of decades. This is why he thinks there has not been a war already.

Before we leave each other he tells me “Ohathe” a Saharawee gesture that means something like “end of discussion”. I look at him and answer back “ohathe”.

Tea in the Sahara

2009-10-01T16:47:00.003+01:00

Today, the 1st of October, we have been in the desert for two weeks. We are still not used to the heat, the flies or the long greetings in Hassanyia “Jekel leebas”. But we are starting to understand the rhythm of the everyday life here in the camps.

The three of us live in different families placed close together in Layouune refugee camp, in the a part called Boccra.

A day in life:
- We get up at 7oclock to eat breakfast and get ready for work. The three of us work as English and informatics teachers in a nearby school. Our students, mainly girls, are secretaries for distribution of food and other items for the families in Layouune.
- After work we go home and eat the main meal, the most common foods are couscous, camel or goat meat and rice.
- At five o'clock we have lessons in Hassanyia, a dialect of Araic. The language is necessary to know as not everybody speaks Spanish.

The gaps in the day when we are not working or studying are spent with the families. We get offered tea all the time. This is a ritual that can take up to an hour or two. The tea can be a challenge for us Norwegians since it basically consists of sugar. But at the same time, the tea is a nice break in the day, a time to chat and relax with our families and new friends.

We will not be able to update this blog as much as we would have wanted due to a somewhat fragile internet service.

We are having a great time here, so (family and friends) please do not worry.

Outside my House

2009-10-01T14:47:00.005+01:00

Saharawis in Algeria

2009-10-01T14:41:00.002+01:00

A few days ago we visited a conference where they discussed the issue of Saharawis living in other parts of Algeria. There were several visitors from the occupied areas there as well as representatives from the board of Polisario, among them the president.

Many young Saharawis go to Algeria with the support for Polisario for there studies as there are no universities or upper secondary schools in the camps. Some also go to Spain and Cuba. Yesterday, the oldest brother in my family returned from Spain to Laayoune after three years of not seeing them. Another man we talked to spent 14 years in Cuba studying and working. When these Saharawis return to the camps with a degree, they often find that there are few relevant jobs in which they can use their knowledge. Consequently, some decide to stay and work outside the camps. Many of the young people we've got to know so are travelling to Algeria these days to study. It is easy to understand why some of them will decide to stay for a bit longer before eventually returning to the camps. Our Arabic teacher explained to us that it is important for the Polisario that people do return to the camps in order to demonstrate they don't accept to be destined in Algeria: Western Sahara is where they really belong. As an uncle of my family said one evening: “We are not living here because of famine or natural disasters, we are political refugees”.

In the Desert

2009-10-01T14:37:00.000+01:00

After two weeks in Sahara, I've discovered that Laayoune is a place of strong family ties. Every night, when the temperature declines and there is a mild breeze in the air, the whole family gathers on a big carpet outside to drink sugary tea and talk long into the late hours. Family meaning aunts, uncles, parents, grandparents, cousins and other neighbours – I have yet to figure out all the relationships in my family. The first few nights it struck me how incredibly friendly and welcoming the Saharawis are – and how happy they seemed with their everyday life. Time is a different concept here than at home. As the father in my family, Abdullah, pours tea from one cup to the other to make the foam, friends drop by to join the conversation, children run around from house to house and the day passes by slowly. For over 30 years the Saharawis have been waiting here for their referendum.

While life in the camps might be an interesting four-months adventure for a nineteen year-old Norwegian, this is by no means a good solution for the Saharawis. No one in my family has work outside the house, the children go to school but it's unknown whether they'll actually get to use their education in a relevant job. Killing time cruising around with a Land Rover with the oldest boys in my family is certainly fun, but over time this is perhaps not particularly meaningful. Lack of work is a major problem in the camps and simply waiting for a solution to the occupation can be very tiresome.

We have become friends with several people working for Polisario's army, who have told us about the increasing willingness to return to the war. I hope that never happens. All the Saharawis want is a diplomatic solution with Marrocco, but it is very difficult to influence this process when destined in the camps. “Insh-Allah” says Leyla, the mother in my family, and drinks the tenth cup of tea for the day. Hoping, that is all they can do.

Introduction to the Western Sahara

2009-08-26T18:50:00.007+01:00

Western Sahara is a forgotten conflict. For over 30 years more than 160 000 refugees have lived in four separate refugee camps, isolated from the outside world in the Algerian Sahara desert. Temperatures range from the scorching to the freezing and the camps are totally dependent on external support, such as from The World Food Program.

More than 80 countries have gained independence since the United Nations was founded, but not the Western Sahara - it is now the last colony of Africa.

Several UN resolutions affirm that the Sahrawis have the right to referendum which will decide their own future, yet the world still refuses to uphold international law and bring the occupation to an end. The Sahrawi people have declared their own republic in exile, which has been recognized by more than 90 other states. As the situation is now, an entire people is divided from one another by Marroco's 2,200 kilometre-long wall which separates the Sahrawis in the occupied areas from those in the refugee camps.

SahaNor is an exchange program between the Red Cross Nordic United World College and the Ministry of Sport and Youth/Polisario which is the governing body of the Saharawi people. The project is made possible with the funding and encouragement of Fredskorpset, the Norwegian Peace Corps. It is a reciprocal exchange with two Arabic teachers coming to Norway and six Norwegian volunteers teaching English in Algeria. Please keep in mind that this blog reflects our personal experiences and opinions and are not the official views of our partner organisations. Also, feel free to promote this blog to anyone you like. Our aim is that more people around the world will know about the situation for the refugees. Hopefully, more attention and awareness about the conflict will increase the chances of a free and independent Western Sahara.