Meeting Lamira's family

The autumn two years ago I meet Lamira for the first time. We were both accepted to study at the United World College of the Adriatic, located in Duino, an idyllic sea side town in the Northern part of Italy. When Lamira told me that she is from Western-Sahara, I must admit that I had never heard about this country before. “I have never been to my home country”, she told another time. “I am born in a refugee camp in Algeria”. I didn´t really understand the meaning of these words before I sat down with Lamira one time into the second term in the college and she told about her life as a refugee in the desert in Algeria. But still I wasn´t able to imagine and understand what it meant… Then as time passed, our daily chats were more about our struggle with Biology, history essays and other things that bother you in an UWC and I stopped asking her about her life back home... In April I was accepted to go the refugee camps, where Lamira grew up, to do Voluntary work for three months. When people asked me why I decided to apply I always said – I meet this amazing Saharawi girl in my high School in Italy. She made me interested in the conflict and the situation of the refugees. My local newspaper even published a picture of Lamira when they wrote about me going to the camps. One of my missions during my time here in the camps was to meet her family. Many times I have wished Lamira was in the camp with me. After being in the refugee camps for the two months I finally got the possibility to meet Lamira´s family in Daklha. We left El Laayone before sun rise and as we continued driving the landscape changed and it got more and more mountainous. Finally, after four hours of driving we approached Dakhla. I got the same feelings as the day I arrived to the refugee camp for the first time. Again I was amazed that people can live in the middle of the desert, so isolated. I asked myself – why did they decide to build a camp here, so far away from everything else. It is two-three hours from Rabony. Later on, we were told that Daklha is where it is because of the water.

Lamira´s house was in outskirt of the camp, in an idyllic location with sand dunes and palms right behind their house. It was a big moment when I greeted Lamira´s grandmother wearing a black Melhefa outside her tent. It wasn´t before that moment I realized what Lamira had told me over our cup of tea sitting in her room in Duino two years ago. “I am a refugee”, she said that time. The girl I have shared chats and fun with during my two years in Duino, was really born and raised in a simple sand house, in the middle of the Algerian desert. After finishing the Hassania greetings with Lamiras grandmother: Jeklebes, lebes, jekl al her, skif ek, mesh allah and so on, I meet the rest of Lamira´s family: her aunts, uncles and cousins. We were taken into their house and served traditional Saharawi tea and cookies. I gave the family a photo album with pictures from Lamira´s life in Duino. It was incredible to see Lamira’s grandmother smile and kiss the photos of Lamira one by one saying “My granddaughter” in Arabic. Then we tried to speak with the family using the few Arabic phrases we know. Luckily, one of Lamira’s aunts knows some Spanish, so we managed to communicate. The family showed us photos of Lamira as a child. I hardly recognise her. In the night, I meet one of Lamira’s friends. She spoke perfect English and she told me more about herself during two hours than anyone else I have met before. Then, the whole family, Lamira’s friend and I desperately tried to call Lamira using the internet in the centre of the camp, 15 minutes away from the house with a car. Unfortunately, we didn’t manage. The next day we walked in the sand dunes with Lamira’s cousins. One of them, a three years old girl laughed every time I smiled to her. She was incredible trustful” and started to follow me everywhere I went.

During our days in Daklha, we also visited the camp, the sand dunes, the centre, the women’s centre and the garden. Daklha is completely different from the other camps in the sense that is more quiet and astonishing beautiful with the sand dunes. People in Daklha are supposed to friendlier than in the other camps and I think that is true. Life in Dakhla is also simpler than in the other camps. Many of the families do now have a toilet, it is isolated and there is no mobile phone reception. It seems closer to the nomadic life the Saharawis used to live.
Unfortunately, we were only able to stay with Lamira’s family for a night. We really felt how friendly and hospitable they were… It was sad to say goodbye to the family. In the car back home we all agreed that it was one of the most special families we have meet while we have been here. When you meet the family of your friends from UWC you realize what the two years in UWC meant to you and how it changed you. The last weeks in the college Lamira, Dora from Hungary and I made an agreement: Whatever happens in our lives, we will meet in 2020. I cross my fingers, for that we will meet in a free and independent Western Sahara

The life of a volunteer in the Sahara desert

It has been my first two months in the Sahara desert. For some reasons I had to come later than the two other volunteers Andrea and Maren. When I arrived to Layoone refugee camp for the first time I asked myself: ”How will I manage to live here for the rest of the year?” It was four o clock in the night and I had been traveling for almost 24 hours. The size of the camp was overwhelming. In the dark I saw the shadows of small, small houses made out sand everywhere.

But already the next day when I saw the camps for the first time in daylight, I realized that I will manage to live here. The camp is just like a small society. There are small shops, schools, hospitals and administrate buildings. All over the place there are houses made out of sand and next to a group of houses there will always be a green tent.

A life as a volunteer here can never be filled with routines – ”No hurry in Africa” applies to the Saharawi life style as well. Sometimes we have been told around 11 o clock in the night that we have a meeting the day after. We got used to ”late minute” planning quite fast. The English classes are the only routines our life is based on. A month ago we started teaching in the school ”Olaf Palme”, which is a vocational training school for girls. We teach between two and four hours a day and share seven classes between us. After the classes, we drive home to eat lunch. After lunch we have Arabic classes, often followed by meetings with organizations, like the youth organizations in Layoone.

Sometimes life here is challenging. If we don’t have any program, time passes incredible slowly here. For the first time in many, many years I have had the time to listen to the watch ticking. There are no coffee places to go to here, no places to hang out if you want to have fun. Living here had probably been easier if we spoke Arabic, but we don’t and I doubt we will before we leave. When our Arabic teacher told us that ”not” is conjugated as verbs are in many languages, we didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Next lesson we realized that this way of conjugating only applies when you talk about feelings. So, right now, Arabic seems more complicated than math and our ambitions to learn Arabic or Hassanya, the local dialect, in four months is far, far too unrealistic. Honestly, if it had not been for Maren’s and the other Andrea’s Spanish, we had been very lost in this society. Most meetings, teaching and daily life communication is in Spanish.

Sometimes we also feel very isolated from the outside world. For weeks we did not have a phone that worked and now when we have one, the reception is very unstable. The electricity in the camps is based on solar cell panels and it is not enough electricity to use our computers. Getting access to internet is also difficult. Internet is in Raboony, an administrate city, an hour through the desert from the refugee camp of Layoone camp. We feel lucky if we manage to check our emails every second week…
But at the same time life here a volunteer is incredible special and I’m happy that I decided to come here! Every day I learn more and more about the fascinating Saharawi culture and its unwritten codes. Despite being in a refugee camp, the place is beautiful – The women’s colorful Melhefas (dresses) in the desert, the playing children, the sunsets and the star sky and the moon during the nights.

Flowers From The Exile

The childhood is an innocent stage of life that everyone goes through. The infancy is when you can’t tell the difference between good things and bad things. For example if someone gives you an ember and a date, you will choose the first one because you don’t know that it will burn you.

The childhood is something very memorable, but only to those who were born in their own country, with their parents, with their peerage and with the landscape of their homeland.

Living as a child in the refugee camps is very different from any other country in the world. Here the situation is different from in our home land Western Sahara that is divided and occupied by Morocco. The families are separated. There is a wall. The children are suffering from many things: the war and its results, living far away from the homeland and living in exile. The children are deprived of living a normal childhood.

How should we remember our miserable childhood? We lived it as orphans. Many children lost their fathers in the war after the Moroccan invasion into Western Sahara in 1975. How can the children remember the loving compassion of their parents when their parents died before they were born? How should we remember our landscape that we have never seen? And our home parks that we wished we could play in with our friends?

The children in the refugee camps study the primary school in the camps, and they have to finish the rest of their education outside the camps. Many stay away for years and years to get an education. What will be the situation of them and their parents? How do the parents feel when they are deprived of seeing their children growing up? Sure if our country was free, this wouldn’t happen to us.

I’ll try and place my self in the position of a Saharawi mother, so many questions and worries will enter into my mind. How is my child now? Is he happy, is he sad? Is he studying or wasting his time? For how many years am I deprived of hugging my children because they are studying far away from me? A lot of people around the world can’t imagine not seeing their children for many years, maybe 20 years! These things happen to the Saharawies.

One day I was listening to my favourite radio channel BBC Arabic. There is a program that is called BBC Extra. I always listen to that because there is 10 minutes in English to learn the language, and I am very interested in that. That day they were talking about youth who leave their families to study abroad. Asking them how do they feel? How is their new life? And they were asking the parents too.

Listening to this I asked myself: what about us? We left our homes and our background many years ago. What about the children that is not in the spot light? The world doesn’t look for them, doesn’t see the suffering of the Saharawi children living in exile in the refugee camps. They are deprived of feeling a normal childhood. The childhood of the people that are my age went by. But it makes me think so deeply about today’s and tomorrow’s children. Our situation requests more attention from the world, more knowledge about the Saharawies.

Finally, the Saharawi children are flowers coming from the exile to say to the world that we are here calling for peace to spread over our country! We want to see children born far away from the fighting and the war. That’s enough, enough! It’s time to break the silence from the world and do more to find a solution for this issue. And we are looking forward to that day the children could benefit from a real childhood.

Written by Lwaly Dadi Ramdan

In the classroom

From our first week here in the camp, we have been teaching boys and girls between the age of 13 and 27. Some of them knew quite a lot when we started, and others knew nothing.

The challenges have been many, and not always easy to face, but most of the time we have found ways to solve them. Teaching for us is not the same kind of teaching our Saharawi students have been used to. Talking English in class, focusing on the oral, doing activities and playing! Well, lets just say it this way; after three months of teaching, the students have gotten used to our strange ways, and it even seems like they are enjoying it by now.

Here are some pictures of the class we have been teaching at the Cultural Center of El Aaiun.

Maren teaching one of the classes

Andrea and Khalifa

three of our students, Zouleiha, Salma and Galia

Waiting in the desert

"Why do you want to learn English?" The white letters are showing pretty strongly and clearly against the green background of the blackboard, despite my bad handwriting, but the classroom is so silent you could have heard a needle hit the floor.


A dusin confused faces reveal that this is not a question my Saharawi students have faced in a classroom situation before. As the minutes are passing by, the silence continues unbroken. "Is it to be able to talk with people from other countries?" I ask and is rewarded with a few nods. Finally it is a girl about my own age who breaks the silence.


"Teacher," she says, "I just want something to do."


Even though this answer might not be what an English teacher would normally want, my student expressed a wish many Saharawi youths share. These camps are known as some of the worlds best organized refugee camps. Since they were established women have always had a strong role in the organization, and today the camps have functioning schools, kindergardens and hospitals. Despite this, being a youth here is not the same as back home.


A copal of weeks ago we met the youth organization of our camp, Laayoune. Sitting on the floor in a room with around 20 children playing outside, they told us about the conditiones they are working under.


The organization is completely depending on the aid given by the international society. Twice every week they organize playtime activities for children, with toys donated from different NGOs. But for youths there is little to offer. "Every week we have youths coming here asking for jobs or activities, but we just have to send them away. There are no resources," the director of the center says. All the work the organization does is volentary, there are not even enough money to give out salaries; the organization do what they can with what little they have. "It is difficult for many young people to picture a future in the camps," she continues, "there are few opportunities and jobs here, and many youths are frustrated over the situation."



And the frustration is growing. Today there are televisions in most of the tents or houses here, giving youths an insight into the way of life in other countries. Each year between 9 000-10 000 Saharawi children also goes to countries such as Spain, France and Italia to escape the warmest months in the desert. This contributes to showing the young people of the camps the possibilities they are missing out on living as refugees. Many youths also comes back to the camps with university degrees from countries such as Algeria, Spain and Cuba, but unless you are educated as a doctor or a teacher, there are few chances of getting relevant jobs.



In 1991 the UN negotiated a ceasefire between Marocco and Polisario. Since then, for 17 years the Saharawis have waited for a Referendum in which they will be allowed the right of self-determination. However, as Marocco refuses any referendum with an independent Saharawi state as an option, the patience of the people in the camps is growing thin.

"Many youths today say they wants us to go back to war," explaines Abba Lhabib, who works within Polisario Sports and Youth. "Personally I think the only people who wants war are those who have never experienced it, but there is a limit for how much people can take."

Ali Dadi, a 27 year old unemployed Saharawi, is one of the youths who wants the Polisario to take up arms again. "Maybe we would not win," he says, "but at least something would happen. I would rather die trying to free my country, than forgotten in the desert."



And there are not much reason for optimism. To this day there has been written over 100 UN resolutions calling for the Saharawis right to self determination. However, as the years passes there is little focus on the conflict in the media, and fairly little pressure on the occuping power Marocco to accept the referendum. Instead foreign companies and countries are buying Western Saharas resources from Marocco, showing that international law and the moral obligations to a supressed people have to take the backseat when it comes to the possibilities of economical gain.



Back in my classroom I have to say that I think English is important for Saharawi youths, despite my student´s honest answer about her motivation to learn. As the process of globalisation continues for better or worse, the world is becomming smaler, and contact across the boarders is increasing. In a few years maybe there will be a stabil Internett connection in the camps, opening new doors and possibilities for youths to communicate.

The Saharawi youths experience anger and frustration over their situation everyday, and they want to tell about it.



All they need is someone willing to listen.

Trip to the Liberated Areas

Andrea in the endless desert...

Our driver Batchir is making lunch for us.

And after lunch, a camel herd of about 100 camels passed by, some of them even had the nervs to finish the rest of our lunch!

Marzog Omar, an impressing man that have been fighting for its peoples freedom since 1973.

Grass is growing after heavy rain fall in Tifariti

Abb, our coordinator, and Andrea in front of a Moroccan tanks from the early years of the war

Climbing the mountains in search of cave paintings taht are thousands of years old

Making lunch in the desert with Batchir and Abba.

Singing with the girls

It is a stary night. And to see the stars here is as if you see them for the first time. Around us it´s completely dark, and the stars and the moos are like burning fires in the Saharan night sky.

We are sitting outside in the warm night with a group of 12 year old girls, and they are doing what they love the most. They are singing.

Every now and then, they gather up, get a big metal plate that they use as a drum, and they sing. They sing everything from “a star for Polisario”, Saharawi traditional songs to Shakira.

Many people back home have a pretty fixed idea about what the life of a refugee is like. And even though these girls certainly have had their fair share of hardship, when they gather around their metal plate, they are just like any Norwegian grils just wanting to have some fun with their friends.

The absurdity of the weather

If I told you about rain so heavy that it can make buildings collapse in a matter of minutes, would you belive me?
If I told you about a sandstorm, heavy rain and extreme heath, all at the same time, wold you belive me?
If I told you about it raining in one neighourhood, but not in the other, would you belive me?
And if I told you about a giant cloud of sand racing towards you against the wind, would you belive me?

I wouldnt.

However, this is the reality under which the Saharawi refugees are have been living for more than 30 years. Living in the Sahara desert you really learn the meaning of extreme weather. When it rains the rain can destroy buildings in a matter of minutes, as it did in the camp of Smara just a few days ago. The water falls on sand that can not absorb it. When it is cold, it gets freezing cold. And when it is hot, like it is for the most part of the year, the heath is unimaginable. The Saharawis themselves call this land "the buring land".
Over the last few weeks we have seen some of the extreme weather conditiones of the camps. We have seen thing we would never have belived if we had not seen it ourselves.
About a week ago, we went outside and were met by the sight of something looking like a giant mountain. It was a cloud of sand. In our history books back home, we have seen pictures of what it looks like when an atom bomb is dropped, and in front of us something very similar was streching out across the horison. And this isnt ever the weird part.
As we were standing there looking at the cloud of sand, Maren said "It is coming towards us!" I, however, had some problems accepting this statement, since the wind was clearly blowing in the opposite direction.
But basic physicis did not seem to concern this weather phenomenon much. 5 minutes later we were running into the house to escape the sand that was hitting the camps like a wall. As the cloud was over us we looked out of the window and saw that the world had turned red. It looked like the image of what many religions describe as Doomsday.
However, as the sun slowly sank down behind the horison the cloud gradually disapeared, only leaving behind it layers of sand covering everything. The weather conditions of the desert continues to amaze us.

For the refugees its just their everyday life.

walking in El Auin

one of many goats wandering the camps

Melhefa

caught in a sand storm

Andrea, Haja, Maren and Fatu

Sahara libre

Tfarra and an old rusty car in the camp

When richess becomes your curse

Dah is an 18 year old boy living with his family in the Refugee Camps of El Auin in the South-Western Algeria. He does not study, and never considered school to be of much importance. As he says "what can you do with an education here?" For him the most important thing is being able to contribute to his family´s income. It is not easy to get a job in the camps, but Dah is lucky and works with his father fixing cars. For Dah working is not just about filling the long days in the desert. His wish is that is mother can have more than just the basic things the family needs to survive. He wants her to be able to buy new clothes, to make a good dinner or get some new shoes for his little sister, things any boy would want for his mother. And, if he does not help, who will?

Ever since the Refugee Camps of Western Sahara was established in 1976, the Saharawi refugees have been dependent on aid given by the International Community. However, as time passes and politics change, the aid given to the camps is decreasing by the year, making the amount of food Dah´s mother can put on the dinner table less and less. Reports from the UNHCR and the World Food Program in 2007 estimated that one third of the children in the camps between 1 and 5 years old are chronically undernourised. The Norwegian Church Aid puts the number as high as 40%. When the International Community decides to decrease its aid to the refugees, it is families such as Dah´s that suffers, and it is the refugees themselves who must find a way to make up for the shortfall.

What is ironical, is that while Dah is working with is father fixing cars in the Sahara desert, huge amounts of his peoples resources is being shipped out of the occupied areas of Western Shara. The same countries that every years reduces their aid to the Refugee Camps is robbing Dah and his fellow Sharawis of their natural resources and of their future. From the beginning of this conflict Western Sahara´s resources have been at the very heart of the issue. The area is rich in fish stocks off the coast, large deposits of phosphate and even possible deposits of oil. Unfortunatly for the Saharawis their richess has become their curse. Even though the reasons for Marocco´s occupation of Western Sahara are many and complex, there is no doubt that foreign interests in the areas resourcess makes finding a solution more difficult.

In 2001 the European Union signed their free trade fishing agreements with Marocco. The agreement involves Maroccan waters and "waters under Maroccan control". Despite the fact that International Law clearly states that an occuping power is not allowed to exploit the resources of the occupied area without the consent of its people, Western Sahara´s fish resources is each day being shipped out of the area. The money ends up in the pockets of the Maroccan authorites. And the EU is not alone.

In August this year, the Norwegain company Yara was exposed after buying phosphate from the occupied areas of Western Sahara. Despite the fact that the company is partially stateown, and that the Norwegian goverment discourages trading that includes the occupied areas, Yara imported phosphate with a value of about 38.4 million Norwegian kroners. Even though the company insists the phosphate was only a one time shipment to use as a test in their new facilites, the value of the phosphate is 12 times what the Norwegian goverment gives in aid to the Refugee Camps each year. Maybe this is not a lot for a big company such as Yara, but for Dah and his family, it is money that could have meant a world in difference.

When countries and big companies such as Yara buys Western Sahara´s resources from the Maroccan government, they do not only act in a highly unethical manner. They also contribute to legitimize Marocco´s occupation. And while they are shipping out the areas richess, Dah is still left fixing cars in the Saharan desert.

family reunion.

The other day we were invited to visit thehome of one of my students. He said he was getting a visit from some family membershe hadn´t seen in a long time. It was because they were living far away, he said.

He told us they were very exited about this visit. They had been preparing for weeks, putting up a big black tent that they use for special occations, buying sweets, decorating with the most beautiful carpets they have and of course, hanging up pictures of the president and their flag all over the tent!

We had seen similar tents beein put up in other places of the camp as well in the camp, and we did not quite understand what this was all about. As it turns out, a family reunion here is not the same thing as it is at home.

Many people back home would assosiate famliy reunions with their father and their uncle fighting over who has got most ram on their computer, 16 cousins that they never can remember the names of , children crying and running around high on sugar, and some aunts discussing apple pie recepies.

However, exept for the part about children running around high on sugar, family reunions here has a completaly different meening for people. It is a family reunion in the true sence of the word.

Whe Morocco bombed Western Sahara in 1975, they did not only distroy buildings and military targets. They also distroyed and seperated families. Thousands of families had to flee from their homes and leave all their earthly belongings, and most of them also had to leave their loved ones behind.Parents in one country, children in another, also seperated by a 2200 km long wall since 1986. Many of these families have been seperated ever since.

For some years now, the UN have been arrangin family reunionsfor Saharawi families that have been seperated by the conflict. You get to spend one week with your family, and when you leave, you don´t know if you will ever see your family again.

It was a family reunion like this that my student Yasaa had invited us to.

The family that was coming, was family from the occupied areas of Western Sahara. It was family that they had been seperated for 33 years, and it was family that many had never seen before.

Yasaas father ran from his home in Western Sahara the day that Morocco went into the country. He did not only leave his home, but he also left his wife and his children. After several years as a refugee, he married again and got Yasaa and his siblings.

The people coming from the occupied areas are Yasaa´s sisters and brotherand their children. Yasaa´s father left his children when they were young. 33 years have passed and this will be the first time he sees them since he left.


Yasaa and his father

We felt extremly honored to be able to take part in this great event that the family was experiencing. As we weresitting in the tent watching people dressed up in their most beautiful melhefas and draas (the traditional clothes here) they have, we could see the exitement and nervousness in peoples faces. I started to become a bit emotional myself thinking about what this reunoin must meen to people.


Suddenly we saw people starting to pack things together. A dissapointing look spread over peoples faces. We found Yasaa and asked what was going on.
"They are not coming after all" he said. " It is raining so much where they are so their plane can´t take off. They will come tomorrow inshallah".
We could see how dissapointed and sad he was, but as he said " What is one more day with waiting, when we have been waiting for 33 years?"

the rain

this is what the rain does to houses here. this is a resault from the rain in 2006

It rained today

Now you might think that this is a good thing since we are sitting here in the middle of the Sahara desert.



In one way it is. When it rains, the liberated areas of Western Sahara turns green, and a lot of the people of the Refugee Camps leave the harsh conditiones of the desert. For a few months they go back to living in the liberated areas as beduins (their traditional way of living.



However, when it rains like ot did today, it creates a lot of problems for the Saharawi refugees. The land is so dry it cannot absorbe the rain pooring down. As a consequence the ground turns into mud, making it impossible to get around. And as if that was not enough, all of the houses are made out of the Sahara desert sand. Water and sand are made into bricks to build the houses, so when it rains the houses are in danger of falling apart.



This is what happened in 2006. The heavy rain caused a lot of buildings to collapse, damaging schools, institutiones and peoples homes. When you are a refugee and aready have very little, loosing your home is a great disaster. They are living in a country that is not theirs, under conditiones that are extremely difficult, so you can imagine what it feels like to loose what is supposed to be your home.



The refugee camps in the South Western Algeria, are some of the best organised refugee camps in the world, but there are certain things you just can prepare for. The rain here is a good example of that.



Outside it just stopped raining.



For now.

The heat of the mid day.

It is 4.45 in the afternoon, and me and andrea are on our way to arabic classes. Around us it is all quiet, all we can hear are the goats that passes by us. As we cointinue, we realise that we haven´t seen a single car, or a person, or even a child playing. We feel like we are walking through a ghost village, despite the fact that there are more than 60 000 people living here.

The reason for this is the extream heat. From around noon until 6 pm, people normally dont move around outside because the sun is burning at it´s worst at this time of day.

I would guess it is around 40 degrees here in the middle of the day. And this is the time of year where it is supposed to be getting colder! And it is getting colder. But the temperature it used to be 2 months ago are so high that cooler doesn´t mean cool in this part of the world.

The worst months here are the summer months, June, July and August when the temperature gets at least 10 degrees warmer than it is now. I don´t even want to imagine what that must feel like!

The killing heat of the summer months is the reason why over 9 000 Saharawi children flee the camps and go to Spain for 2 months. While Norwegians go to Spain to enjoy the heatm the Saharawis goes there to cool down.

This summer project is called "Vacationes en paz", or hollidays in peace. This gives the children a chance to get away from the rough conditions in the camps, and spend 2 months on holliday with a Spanish family. The children get 2 months of peace each year. Even though the weapons were put down in 1991, people are still living in a conflict situation.

Living in exile

Or and other word for it is being a refugee. It is a very difficult thing to talk about, because when I talk about it, it reminds me of my peoples suffering. When you live in exile, you feel that you are like someone who lives in an orphanage. You feel that you are missing something priceless.

You are missing your motherhome, which no one can live without. How can someone live in exile and his motherhome, and his possessiones are usurping. But thanks god we are living in our second motherhome, Algeria. This country opened its doors and welcomed us to live on their land as brothers until we find a fair solution. We owe a lot to Algeria.

We have been living for more than 30 years in exile. We suffered a lot along these years. First we suffered from the natural circumstances (wind, rain, cold and heath). Second, places of living: Tents are exposed to fall down at any time the wind blowes. Homes are made of clay that are exposed to destruction when the rain comes down. Next we suffered from poverty, starvation and lack of medisin.

But despite these difficulties and frustrations, we challenge the hard circumstances with patience, education and our hope to get our independence. Because we always say that we have a dream that one day we will get back to our motherhome, and forget what we have been through.

At last, I call for all peacemakers and people who are aware of what is going on around them, to do their best to get us back to our home.

Written by:

Ali Dadi

27 years old

A refugee in the camp of El Auin

pictures from the first days

Mwajuba preparing to give us henna

our house

The most beautiful time of the day

Angie sitting on a bag of rice from the WFP

The camp of El auin

Mwajubas mother resting in her tent

Mwajuba praying outside our home

The Beauty of the desert

It's morning, and we are woken up by the sun. As soon as it hits the place we are sleeping, we can feel it's heat and the day begins.

Outside we can hear the wind blowing quite strongly. Knowing the sand will get absolutely everywhere as soon as we leave the house, we put on our melhefas and our turbans to try to protect us from the sun that is getting stronger every minute, and the sand.

Where the houses stops, and the desert begins, we feel we're at the edge of the world. The landscape is as flat as you can imagine, and the desert and the clear blue sky is never ending. Or at least it feels like it. Standind looking at this immense desert, you feel so small, so unsignificant. Why it feels like this, I can not explain. There is also something extremly beautiful about it. I t is different from everything I know, and it is nothing like I expected it to be. It is like another world. Everything is strange and unknown. Maby that is why we find it so beautiful here. I know how harsh this desert can be, but for now it is the beauty of it that impresses the most.

Inside the camps, on the other hand, there are tents and houses made out of sand and water. The colores are the same where ever you go. The color of sand is all there is. This makes it impossible for us to find our way around. It all looks the same. There is only one exeption, the people.

Every now and then, I see these colorful and elegant people walking around in the camp. But only when it's not too hot. Most of the day is spent inside, hiding from the burning sand. These colorful people are the women of the camp. They brighten up their surroundings with their beautiful melhefas (clothes).

As the day getscooler around 5 -6 in the afternoon, people start moving more outside. As the sun sets, the colors get warmer and they also get this redly glow to them. It is one of the most beautiful times of the day. Just befor the sun is gone it looks like the sky is caught on fire, and the clouds burn across the sky in the most beautiful colors you can ever imagine. Walking around at this time of day, you forget how harsh the desert is in the middle of the day. It is like the desert is blushing under the decending sun.

When the sun is gone, it's the stars and the moon that takes over, brightening up the night sky. And it is under the saharan sky, that we end our day, and goes to sleep.

Arriving in the Sahara

After a very long jorney we have arrived at our final destination, Laayoune refugee camp!

We have been here for almost two days now, and the impressions are many. Everything is so different from everything we know from before, but we are having a great time.

The heat is killing and is impossible to imagine if you have not been here! The people are wonderful, we are spending our nights under the sahara sky, eating camel meat and drinking lots of tea.

People are taking so good care of us, and I think we will have a wonderful 4 months here!

More news will come later.

a short introduction

In January 2008, with the assistance of Fredskorpset, Red Cross Nordic United World College (RCNUWC) entered into a partnership program with the Ministry of Sport and Youth/Polisario in Western Sahara. The objective of the program is to offer young people from Norway and the wider Nordic region, and their counterparts from the Western Sahara refugee camps in Algeria, an opportunity to act as cultural ambassadors for their respective countries. While the project is open to current staff, and current and former students from UWC's, Nordic students will be given priority.



About Western Sahara:
A mainly desert territory in north-west Africa, Western Sahara has been the subject of a decades-long dispute between Morocco and the Algerian-backed Polisario Front.

Western Sahara fell under Spanish rule in 1884, becoming a Spanish province in 1934. Nationalism emerged in the 1960s, as nomadic Saharawis, settled in the region.P olisario was set up on 10 May 1973 and established itself as the sole representative of the Saharan people.

In October 1975 the International Court of Justice rejected territorial claims by Morocco and Mauritania. This court ruling recognised the Saharawis' right to self-determination and Spain agreed to organise a referendum. This didn't happen as most of the territory fell under Moroccan control in 1976. Economic factors in the dispute include that the territory is phosphate-rich, has important fishing grounds and is believed to have offshore oil deposits.

The Camps:
More than 150,000 refugees still live in Polisario's camps in Algeria and have been living there for 33 years now. Exact numbers are hotly disputed as it is a politically sensitive issue.

The camps are completely reliant upon foreign and Algerian aid for everything: food, clothing, material for tents, and water are brought in by car and plane.

Despite the many difficulties, International refugee experts consider the camps to be very well organized.