Bourj Barajneh

Just had to drop something off at a Palestinian camp in town. There are four Palestinian camps in Beirut: Mar Elias (puny little camp, no access by car, only little alleys), Sabra and Chatila (well known) and Bourj Barajneh. All are in the same neighborhood, West-Beirut leaning on the southern suburbs. These people live under some pretty appalling circumstances. I drove in at dusk; there are no streetlights, there is no parking, and the streets are no streets but sort of little winding alleys, where two-way traffic tries to wriggle themselves through. It’s muddy and wet, doorways open onto the street and there’s garbage heaping up all over the place. It’s just not a very pretty picture. The place is cramped with humans. I dropped something off; the lady asked if I wanted to go all the way over the her place, but this is three steps down, five steps left, six up, then to your right and on and on and on. And on the way back, I couldn’t find my way out. It’s like this huge labyrinth, and you wind up deeper and deeper into the camp, and the roads get narrower and narrower as you go, and then you get stuck. No street signs, no street lights, no streets, basically, and then you’ve got to turn around and wiggle your way out again. There’s only one entry into the camp.
I did make it out of the camp after two guys on a little scooter offered to show me the way. Boy, what a humbling experience as I drove to my own neighborhood, where the streets were getting wider and wider.
I made this picture once of a Palestinian youngster, member of Fatah, in his camp near Tyrus. They had a little more space, but were also living within their own grave yard.