Rohingya-The voiceless refugees

The tides were low this morning, the ocean seemed a long way away. Many men and women were crouching over buckets of ocean water to dish out little creatures from it. Crows stood around patiently hoping for some morsels. Fishermen set up big billowing blue nets probably trying to catch some fish as the tides receded. I was fascinated by a man carrying a long stick of cotton candy near the refugee camp, he was winding his way through the distribution center. As we drove to clinic today, we learned that today would be my last day of clinic before my departure. Tomorrow is Bangladesh National mourning day, a day partly to commemorate the assassination of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman   and almost his entire family. He was the founding father of Bangladesh.   When I told my translator that this would be my last day, he was quite sad. He decided to put off taking his day-off so he could continue to translate for me this week. Next week he would go home to celebrate Eid al...

I abandoned my run this morning because of a planned early start to the clinic but it turned out not to be. It has been difficult to have to wake up the doorman to open the gate for me. I could hear the loud droning fan emanating from his room while I knocked on the metal door. Again it has been dry all day. My first family was Shakha with her three and two year-old children; Anuwar and Enan. She has been in the camp for a year and has pretty much settled down. Her husband was shot in the leg and he was carried by various people for four days to Bangladesh. She did not wish to go back to Myanmar. Nur was sixteen and brought in her three-year-old brother. Her parents were shot by the military and she escaped with her three sisters and her one brother. She is the oldest and is now the head of the household. In the refugee camp she would be labeled as among the vulnerable groups. However she told me that she carries her 30 Kg of rice by herself up and down the slopes for cl...

It rained last night and dawn brought in another bright and sunny day. There were white puffy clouds over the ocean but no signs of dark rain clouds. The Monsoon season had been kind so far. The week before we came rain fell for twenty-four hours and clinic had to be cancelled. I found a number of boxes of colored pencils in the guesthouse and brought them to give to the children. Fatema came in flashing her happy smile, she had on a bright yellow dress with a headband bearing a flower.   She had also adorned her face with some yellow powder, a make-up of sort, obviously shy but pleased with herself. When she was presented with a pack of colored pencils she grinned from ear to ear, hugging it as she walked out turning around to flash me her radiant smile. Such simple things could bring so much joy in the little ones. Someone found a stack of cute knitted animals among the boxes of medicines in the pharmacy; apparently an older woman decided to knit them to give to ...

This morning we drove through the Kutupalong Camp so the new volunteers could have a look at the camp to see where the refugees are living. The camp was busy as a bee hive with people selling and buying, reinforcing embankments and paving roads. Several children came in with impetigo, the sores were over faces, necks and scalps. I asked a 12-year-old boy wearing a lungi whether he went to school.   Apparently he skipped school to come here but he said he would go to school for a few hours a day and he liked school. when asked what he would like to be when he grew up.   Without hesitation he said he would like to be a doctor and I asked why. He said so he could treat people. I hope he realized his dream. My translator told me that when he worked with another physician who asked the same question of the children, no one came up with an answer. Sadek and Khalek were two brothers six and seven years old, brought in by their father.   Both had diarrhea but...

Another bright and sunny day and it was actually starting to be a scorcher. Patches of blue sky certainly were not harbinger of rain.  So far the rains have not been heavy at all just spurts since I came here but the monsoon is not over yet. Another busy clinic day, we worked steadily, my translator and I. He is an electrical engineer graduate and as there is no job in his area, he is working as a translator, not sure what the future holds for him.  He has been at the job for two months and has learned the ropes. At times he seems to be exasperated with the problems the Rohingya complain about and I understand since their problems are not easily solved. Listening to the same litany of problems could certainly wear someone down. While most volunteers stay for a week, he has to get used to each volunteer weekly and just when he has a good working relationship with each one, it is time for him to go. We saw many diabetic patients today, most of them under reasonable control ...

Dawn brought in a bright and sunny day but where I stayed, sunlight could not penetrate. The walls of the buildings were within a foot of each other blocking all the sunlight. If I strained hard I could see a sliver of daylight and that also helped me to see if the weather was hospitable for running. The tides had been high but I could not resist getting a dip. The driver turned down our suggestion of taking the dirt army road which would take us through Kutupalong camp, potentially bypassing the traffic.   He said the road was close but we only had his words for it. So it took us the usual two and a half hours to reach the clinic. My translator set up the medications on the table as we, the healthcare volunteers, had to dispense our own medications, there was no pharmacist. Our very first patient was a woman brought in by her son and immediately we detected a huge goiter peeking through her scarf as she sat down, however she had lived with it for over thirty years a...