Welcome to Subotica

Bright red tents, awkwardly yet linearly, dispersed mark the border between Serbia and Hungary. The area where they sit has been dubbed "no-man's-land" because it sits beyond the Serbian passport controls but before the heavily fortified Hungarian checkpoint.

Roughly 100 refugees and migrants arrive at the Serbian side of the truly fortress-like border, where strict Hungarian controls for asylum seekers means that they either end up stranded in makeshift camps of red tents, or cross the border illegally with the help of dangerous smuggling networks.

In a show of force, Hungarian authorities returned over 1,000 people to Serbia over the course of a single week. Claiming that they did not have "valid documentation." Hungarian authorities reportedly plan to send at least 17,000 of the asylum seekers, who reached the country via Serbia, back there.

The plan seems to be to send them back in small groups, as Serbia's B92 TV station reported that on Tuesday about 190 migrants crossed back into Serbia through "improvised passage in the Hungarian border wall," not an official border crossing or legal channel.

The wall itself resembles that of a maximum security prison. Last summer, Hungarian authorities deployed well over 6,000 additional police on the border with Serbia in order to stop the undocumented refugees from entering. In addition to this additional police presence, Hungary is also using helicopters, armored vehicles, and dog handlers (whose canines tend to be fed minimal amounts, a tactic that makes them highly vicious).

Then-PM (Now-President) Aleksander Vučić announced that Serbia would not take the same course of action as neighbouring Hungary: "Serbia will not imitate Hungary and will not stage a 'show' on its borders."

Witnessing the theatrical armaments at the border firsthand, has given me the courage to say, with no reservation and with politics aside, that this should be unacceptable. A child as young as 9 sits on the Serbian side of the border, weeping in his mothers arms as a volunteer doctor from the Serbian city of Niš treats the bloodied dog bite on his small arm. Why? They got too close to Hungary.

A poster reading 'Freedom' is held up on the Serbian side, so that it is visible to Hungarian officers.

Refugee or Migrant?

Of all the things I have imagined I would come to write, this is one I never expected to be necessary.

With more than 70 million people forcibly displaced globally and lethal boat crossings still daily headlines, the terms 'refugee' and 'migrant' are far too frequently used interchangeably in the media and public discourse. The lack of distinction can be dangerous for both populations.

When we devalue people's struggles for survival, we devalue them and what they deserve.

Refugees are people fleeing armed conflict or persecution. There were 21.3 million of them worldwide at the end of 2015. Their situations are so perilous and intolerable that they cross national borders to seek trepidatious safety in nearby countries, and thus become internationally recognized as "refugees" with access to assistance from various states and organizations.

They are recognized as such because it is too dangerous for them to return home, and they need sanctuary elsewhere in order to survive. These are people for whom denial of asylum and closure of borders has deadly consequences.

The 1951 Refugee Convention and its 1967 Protocol, as well as further legal texts such as the 1969 OAU Refugee Convention, remain the cornerstone of modern refugee protection under international law. The legal principles they enshrine have permeated into other regional and national laws and practices.

The 1951 Convention defines who a refugee is and outlines the basic rights which states should afford to refugees. One of the most fundamental principles laid down in international law is that refugees should not be expelled or returned to situations where their life and freedom would be under threat.

Protection of refugees have many aspects:

• Safety from being returned to the dangers they have fled
• Access to asylum procedures that are fair and efficient
• Measures to ensure that their basic human rights are respected to allow them to live in dignity and safety while helping them find a longer-term solution

Migrants do not choose to move because of a direct threat of persecution or death, but rather to improve their lives by finding work, or in other cases, improved educational opportunities or family reunions. Unlike refugees who can't return home safely, there are no such hindrances for migrants. If they wish to return home, they will receive the same protections provided to them by their government as before.

The migrant/refugee distinction is most important for individual governments, because each country deals with migrants under their own laws and processes foremost. When it comes to refugees, countries have specific responsibilities towards anyone seeking asylum on their territories or at their borders. There are established norms of refugee protection and asylum that are defined in both national legislation and international laws which countries must follow.

Politics has a way of getting mixed into the conversation far too often, wherein conflating refugees and migrants can result in serious consequences for the lives and safety of refugees.

Blurring the terms not only takes attention away from the specific legal protections that refugees require, but can undermine the public support for refugees and the institutionally of asylum at a time when more refugees need such protection than ever before.

We need to treat these, and all, human beings with the respect and dignity these deserve. We need to ensure that the human rights of migrants and refugees are respected. At the same time, the specificity of a refugee's predicament should not be depreciated, and an appropriate legal response is the most significant aspect of what refugees need.

The Perspective of the Public

Since the Serbian presidential election on April 2nd, student-run protests in almost every major city have become a daily norm. During one such protest, I spoke to some participants who carried signs specifically expressing their dissatisfaction with the vague information when it comes to the proposed migrant and refugee policies of newly-elected President (and former Prime Minister) Aleksandar Vučić.

Here are two stand-out excerpts of the responses I received:

"I came to Serbia as a refugee from Croatia when I was a young girl. I have many different feelings about the experiences that my family and I went through. For that reason, I have wanted to find a way to be involved with this new wave of refugees, and help them in any way I can. Firstly, I helped in small parts at the Miksalište camp, but I wasn’t very confident in my approach to the migrants, because I had never seen a situation like that. I don’t remember much about my journey as a kid, so it was all very overwhelming! I wanted to approach them in a very friendly manner, but I didn’t want them to think it was pity. Then I met a man from Afghanistan and started talking to him; he was open and willing for a conversation, with a positive attitude. He looked like felt safe and calm in the camp, and he told me he was comfortable there. He was glad because the people working in the camp are empathetic and willing to help. When he told me about the horrible treatment he received in Bulgaria, specifically, and how the treatment shifted the moment he arrived in Serbia, I felt proud to call myself Serbian. He gave me his Facebook contact, so we are still in touch. He is now in Düsseldorf, Germany, settled down and has been readily seeking employment since he arrived. I am aware that not everyone is as resilient as he is, but talking to him and some of the other residents really made me more optimistic. We all need more compassion, we need to be more open, with our borders and our thoughts, because talking about the realities of what is going on in our world is the only way to change any of it. That is why I am protesting. I don’t think that Vučić understands what open dialogue really means, nor does he care about the thousands of refugees in Serbia alone, who do not know what to do next.” 

- Irena Marić (masters student, Academy of Arts, Novi Sad)

"The main reason why I wanted to take part in these protests and in the refugee cause, was to support the women and children who flee as refugees, because I see them as the direct and biggest victims of a system of values and politics dominated by men and their inclination to wars. I must say I was a bit disappointed when we ran into almost no women and children in the refugee parks, but only to later be relieved with that fact, because it meant that the majority of them found a better route of traveling, avoiding Bulgaria and going through safer places than the people we talked to in the parks. If people who lost everything, and have no certain future, not even a certain idea of survival can stay positive and happy out of gratefulness that they still have a bare life — a reason enough to smile, believe and stay positive, where do people in general, coming from ordinary, safe conditions, find a nerve to be grumpy and dissatisfied with life? When did so many of us forget what is really important and that without respect and gratefulness there is no genuine happiness? I feel blessed for the opportunity to meet so many different people in these demonstrations as well, I have been participating since the first day of protests following the election and each day I am surrounded by different faces!”

- Milenka Dinkić (student of sculpture, Faculty of Fine Arts, Belgrade)

Medina & the Children of Krnjača

This is Medina. She is 10 years old.

She has been in the Krnjača camp with her sister and mother for a year and a half, but they left their home in the Syrian city of Palmyra more than three years ago, when it became clear that what began as mere pro-democracy protests was now a full-fledged civil war that included more foreign entities than native.

Medina's home town is torn between IS control and the Syrian government, as of March 2017.
Image courtesy of the BBC.

Like many of the other children, Medina spends her free time playing in the camp with other residents and the roller-skates that the Centre and Commissariat of Refugees provided to anyone who wanted. As she and I were racing around the centre, more and more people joined us in skates, some of whom were young women in their late-teens to early-20s.

Medina took me running as she skated through the Krnjača centre, giving me a tour.

As Medina and I were playing, a lot of children were watching us and some eventually joined us.

Medina's best friend in the camp is an 11 year old girl from Iraq, named Farrah. They met when Farrah's family moved in next door in the same barrack:

This is the inside of their hall in the barrack.

Explaining war and hatred to a child is a tough thing for any parent to do, but for people living in an asylum camp with their children, it was an unavoidable conversation. Yet, at the same time, these parents do everything in their power to make the transitions easier and keep the days lighthearted. That is why, of all the things being donated and invested in the camps, the simple roller-skates and bikes provided by the Centre were the most appreciated by them.

A 19 year old girl named Arsala (meaning Lioness in Arabic) hasn't gone to school, apart from language classes, since she left Damascus three years ago with her two brothers. She helps the other women wash and hang the clothing in the morning, plays with the younger children or hangs out in the social café in the afternoon, and loves to read and write in her journal at night.

This is a picture I snapped of Arsala hanging bedding to air-dry before I approached to talk to her.
Despite having a washer and drying provided by Caritas (mentioned in an earlier post) at the camp, the
women all prefer to air-dry laundry and even hand-wash said laundry at times.

It all begs the question, if you were in such a situation, how would you spend your days? As the world's eyes are on the maps and diagrams that show statistics and large-scale patterns, small daily tasks like laundry are disregarded in the world's consideration when it comes to the actual individuals who are affected by decisions, which are ruled by macro-relations. 

Soul Food

Food has the unbelievable knack to bring people together. In the Krnjača Asylum Centre's cafeteria, each corner of the world meets over sweet hibiscus tea and bitter Turkish coffee.

At the entrance to the canteen there are posters keeping refugees informed about their options, including the availability of free legal aid to asylum seekers in Serbia (provided in partnership with the Belgrade Centre for Human Rights and the UNHCR) and discussing everything with refugees who are considering returning home so that they can make a well-informed decision (return and reintegration arrangements are fully provided by the International Organization for Migration (IOM) and in association with the Republic of Serbia's Commissariat for Refugees).

Two posters featured to the right of the door that leads to the cafeteria.

This is one of the chefs who works in the kitchen.
He showed us around all the canteen areas.

The IOM poster provided information
in Arabic, French, and English. 

As we were touring the canteen, a woman came in to pick up a can of baby formula for her son, one of the kitchen worker told me that the day before, the same woman picked up a formula for her young daughter.

She presented the kitchen workers with a request paper in order to be given the formula.

I got a peek behind the scenes to see how they were making the gibanica for dinner later that day. All meals are prepared to halal standards, meaning that it is permissible to be eaten my a practitioner of Islam.

A view of the kitchens

The oil used is called "Rusko Ulje" (Russian
Oil) and the water is Voda Vrnjci, from a
spring in the Serbian town of Vrnjačka Banja.

The two women I spoke to who were working in the kitchens, Jelka and Mira, noted not just the quantity of food they were producing, but rather the quality. 

"The people in here eat better than we do at home, but then again, they are thousands of kilometers away from home, so this food is the least they deserve."

Under Construction

Employment, or rather un-employment, is as universal as stress.

For refugees, there is the added obstruction of unfamiliarity. Even if they manage to reach their 'final' destinations, all sorts of prejudice stand in the way.

The Ana & Vlade Divac Foundation (I have repeatedly mentioned them because they are so instrumental in the lives of these refugees) has invested in the Krnjača Asylum Centre in a rather interesting way...

The Foundation is funding new barracks to be built in the centre, and paying the resident refugees within the camp to build it.

The new barracks from outside, with some prospective residents milling about in front.

This money, although not extravagant, is fundamental to these refugees as a means of establishing roots. Whether that will be in Serbia, or not, isn't considered for one second. Ghassem, a relief worker with the International Rescue Committee (IRC) who fled Syria as a refugee in 2015, explained it to me in simple terms: "They want to build a camp, but we are investing our their future."

This new addition to the Krnjača Centre is expected to be complete in early May. It is a "point of pride" within the camp, to both the refugees and aid workers.

Everything in these pictures, from the tiles and bunk beds to the toilets and windows, was constructed and installed by refugees.

Most full refugee families consist of 6+ people.

There are almost 20 rooms, at least 16 are residential.

This room acts as temporary storage room until the barracks are complete,
at which point it will act as a part-time community room and open prayer hall.

Our guide, Jelena, shows us the state-of-the-art
air conditioning unit that was installed the day before.

Jelena is showing us the boiler for the barrack I
was in. As before, the quality is astounding.

This is one of the newly built toilets created for
the refugees with disabilities.

There are stations like this where mothers can change
their children's diapers and general child care.

The Esteem of a Friend

This is Jelena, our guide. 

Commissariat workers, like Jelena, dedicate everything to their jobs. Work doesn't stop after a 9-to-5 shift. Instead, their lives revolve around the people they are striving to help.

For the workers, it doesn't matter what they look like or what their personal lives entail. All that's important is the impact that the work they do can make.

This is Rashid Abdul, the oldest Krnjača
resident. He is 74 years-old and takes walks
around the centre daily. Rashid also loves to
drink tea with the other residents in his room.

As Jelena explained the asylum process,
Khalid (a Syrian refugee), came up to greet her and
tell her that his gf broke up with him. At which
point Jelena consoled him like an old friend.

I was honoured that so many people working in the Krnjača Centre were willing to set aside the time to answer all of my questions. Jelena and the rest of the staff humored my incessant prodding about the minutia of running the centre, in turn explaining every process and procedure in absolute detail.

The office Jelena shares with a colleague is full of paperwork.

They were even willing to accommodate my relentless picture-taking; stopping every few seconds in order to snap photos of just about everything visible.

My security taking a picture of me as I took a picture
of the board in front of the main offices of the camp.

This is the picture I was taking: the bulletin board
features announcements in English, Arabic, & Farsi.

In the few hours I spent with Jelena and her coworkers, I quickly came to understand the simple reason that all of the refugees in the centre are so fond of them: civility. Each refugee has a name, a family, a past, and (if they do their jobs correctly) a future.

No one is expendable or disposable because they are friends.

Despite language barriers and culture clashes, humanity is the same everywhere in the world.