Nothing hits you harder than seeing the type of poverty you’ve read about, seen films of and researched. The salty desert sand touched my lips and stuck on the busride back to the hotel.
After our talk with Eid we were given time to walk about the camp and school yard. I wandered off on my own a little bit with both cameras (digital and film) around my neck and my backpack hanging behind me. I took an entire roll of film about the camp: from the broken playground equipment to the shack-homes themselves. After a few minutes I noticed I had a small posse growing behind me. Little girls from about 3-7 years old dressed in mis-matched outfits covered in desert dust and smiles kept pointing to my backpack with clever grins. I hadn’t realized we would be visiting the camp: otherwise I would’ve brought something like stickers or notebooks to give but all i had was my cameras, hand lotion, water bottle and hand sanitizer. The girls started grabbing at my backpack so I turned and kneeled in the land to be at eye level.