C.A.R. airport camp I

May, 2015; Bangui, Central African Republic

Our little convoy weaved its way into the Airport Camp along dusty tracks lined with dwellings improvised from UN relief materials, tin, wood, canvas … whatever could be found. Stunning resilience and ingenuity persisted in the face of inconceivable chaos. 

Camp on the outskirts of Bangui

Folks gathered in makeshift courtyards and under the occasional tree. Young children found a way to play - as children do - along remarkably tidy “streets” as mothers and older sisters hauled water from pipelines installed by international forces.  Somehow, life goes on.

Curious onlookers thronged the wood-and-canvas “village commons” at the heart of the compound, where community leaders awaited our arrival. Clearly, we were all figuring this out on the fly: camp residents, curiosity understandably mingled with wariness. Mr. Etoka and Madame Lea, our hosts, glad for the opportunity to show support and solidarity for some of the hardest-hit by the violence. Alain, our energetic translator and co-laborer, always game but a bit jittery this afternoon due to his endless concern for our safety.  

Mark was his usual indomitable self, virtually glowing at the prospect of personal interaction with people in need of encouragement and some kind of Jesus encounter. Years of Jesus-diplomacy in dozens of countries and global hot-spots have primed his faith for times like this. He comes visibly alive in places of great need, such as refugee and displaced-people’s camps … the more desperate the situation, the greater the opportunity for the in-breaking of the Kingdom of God.  

I too was glad for the opportunity, but this was my first experience of the raw reality of life in a camp. Pictures are one thing; personally embracing innocent victims of unutterable tragedy is another. I know that when I’m out there, on the ground, eye-to-eye contact and heart-level connections happen quickly, go deep, and tap hi-octane emotional reserves.  

Unsurprisingly, I was also wrestling with concerns about potential exploitation … drive-by photo-op relief missions … questions about what could really be accomplished given the built-in limitations of our visit. I confess to some inner ambiguity as we stepped from the tinted interiors of our black SUV’s into the blazing African sun.