Refugees and grace over bananas

As many of you know, the refugee crisis came to a head while I was in Austria.  When we arrived, refugees were still walking and training across Hungary and then Austria to make their way to Germany.  However, with the date of when Hungary would arrest anyone who'd entered illegally (starting September 15) and the finish of their border-closing fence approaching, things got a little crazy over the first weekend we were there.  10,000+ were working their way across Austria each day, and Germany simply couldn't process that many people at once.

Trains stopped running.  Borders closed.  Masses of people bottlenecked.  Train stations overflowed.

And we were there, right in the middle of it all.

Long before any of this had been labeled a "crisis," we'd planned on going to Vienna for work.  Maple had booked us a hotel near a train station because it would be easy for us to access with our suitcases, there would be food courts, and it seemed like a good location for us to get to wherever we needed to go.  Little did we know how divinely appointed that hotel would be.

We were directly across the street from one of the refugee welcome/service centers in the train station, and we could watch the hub of activity from our window.  There were several days where we never even went into the city--we just went to various refugee locations directly from our little "home" for the week.  We went to the border town.  We went to the town with the main refugee camp for Austria.  We went to the two main train stations in the city.  We were right where we needed to be.

I saw a lot of things, talked to a lot of people, and by the end of the week felt like my little brain might explode from it all.  I thought and felt so many things.  I grew deeply frustrated with the media, who only seemed to be telling a negative story of the chaos in Hungary.  (While we were in Hungary, we met many wonderful people volunteering their time and giving donations so as to help the refugees.  Everyone we met was very frustrated with their government, and didn't think it was representing the Hungarian people very well.   But we haven't heard any of that from the media...only how awful the refugees are being treated in Hungary.)  In Austria, there were so many good things happening...and yet again, I didn't see any of it on the media.

This sign, posted in the train stations, was printed in English, Arabic, and German.  "You are safe."

One day, we were at a train station, and the BBC were there filming a short segment.  They discussed the crowds waiting with nowhere to go.  They discussed the cancelled trains and the confused refugees.  They discussed the political drama of the closed Schengen borders.  But I was there while they were filming that segment that I later watched on the internet.  At that same train station, on that same day, I saw Austrians volunteering their time and their money and their items (food, water, clothing, hygiene materials) to help the refugees.  I saw people translating and people trying to explain to the confused refugees what was going on and what their best options were.  I saw incredibly nice and helpful posters everywhere.  I saw a family reunited after three years separation.

But I will confess: I also grew frustrated some days with the refugees.  Obviously we care for them, after all that they went through in their countries.  I heard some of their stories and was just heartbroken over the terrible things they've experienced.  However, I also saw attitudes of entitlement that was leading to the chaos and the violent scenes that the media showed.  None of these countries have said "You can't come in."  They've said, "You must come in legally and follow our rules and our process."  The refugees have demanded and shoved and pushed and grown angry when they weren't allowed to enter and journey the way they wanted to the place they wanted...and so the local governments demanded and shoved and pushed and grew angry back in response.  I understand all of this escalated due to the sheer masses of humanity, but still.

It was hard to continue to feel as much compassion for the refugees when they were at times, ungrateful and demanding.  I heard one refugee scream about how sick he was of bananas, everywhere he goes they're given bananas.  And it's true: every day I watched pallets of bananas be handed out.  I handed some out myself.  I could understand being sick of bananas.  If that's all I was given day after day, I'd grow sick of them too.

But I would remember that I was being handed a free banana in a safe land by people who were trying to help.  And it'd make that banana a lot easier to swallow.

Maple described it really, really well.  She said that a tension was developing (and would continue to) between wants and needs.  The refugees want to get to Germany.  Their eyes are focused on that goal.  Survival is not the goal...they've already survived war in their country, getting out, the perilous journey across the Mediterranean, and walking miles across several countries.  They've already gone without food and shelter.  They just want to get to the end goal where they can settle down in safety.

The West, however, is focusing on their needs: food, water, clothing, shelter, etc.  We meet their needs and think they should be happy and grateful and accepting of what we offer.  We feel affronted when the refugees don't care about these needs we are trying to so hard to meet.  We hand them a banana and tell them there are no more buses tonight and they'll need to wait until tomorrow and they reject the banana and get mad, and then we grow frustrated or angry or hurt or confused or all of the above.

As a foreigner, I can relate to cultural and linguistic confusion, but I also know to abide by the local government's laws.  I understand the deep frustration that comes from being confused because you don't know the local language.  I also understand that you can't always have what you want the very instant that you want it, and that it's not okay to demand to have it your way right now.  So I watched all this drama going on around me and I felt deeply for every side.  (Except the media.  I'm still mad at them.)

Not all of the refugees were like that.  There were so many who were grateful.  We saw signs like this one nearly everywhere that we went.

I tried to imagine even just some of what was going through their heads.  They'd already gone through so much to get that far.  They're exhausted after walking across countries for days.  Their kids are sick with colds and tired and can't walk anymore so the parents have been carrying them, even though they're tired too.  They just want a shower and to not sleep tonight on concrete in the wind.  They've left home behind: house and job and life as they knew it.  Even though they're normal people just like me, they suddenly only have the clothes on their back, their cell phone, and their passport.  It's humbling to be educated, to have to flee your country, and then suddenly accept charity.  It's so confusing to not know the language and everything changes hourly.  Then add the fear of the unknown future: what happens when they do get to Germany?  Where will they live?  Will they get a job?  Will their kids go to school and make friends?  Will it be hard to learn a new language?  What will their new life look like?  Will they ever see the rest of their family again?

When I think about all that as I look at a refugee, I can give grace over the bananas.  I continue to pray for them, that they'll be placed in homes and towns where they'll find grace upon grace.  I continue to pray for their safety.  I listen to their stories so that they become real people with real lives and real hurts and real experiences and not just an image of what the media paints.  I hope to be a person of refuge welcoming these refuge-seekers.