Charina de Asis, Fülöp-szigeteki AIESEC Development Trainee (Szociális fejlesztő gyakornok) vallomása a munkájáról, eredetiben, angolul:

I am an island girl from the Philippines working in Hungary for the BAH Immigration Office, Reception Centre for Refugees. It’s pretty interesting enough to work in a country that is completely different from yours. The place is different (I used to live by the beach and constantly have sand between my toes and in Hungary there is no beach), the culture is completely new to me, and the language sounds funny (hello means hello and goodbye which astounded me at first).

However, it gets more interesting when you work in a place with more cultures, languages that one can count. In the ‘tabor’ there are people from all walks of life, from all ethnicities – you have your Iraqis, Palestinians, Egyptians, Kosovars, Serbians, Macedonians, Nigerians, Ghanaians, Guineans, Somalis, Burmese, and Georgians et al. They are housed in the camp as they wait for their interviews with the Immigration Office and their refugee status.

There’s not a day that passes by that I do not learn anything new from working the in the refugee camp – every single day, there is always something that surprises me.

Inside the four walls of the ‘tabor’ is a whole different world. I often wonder if the people in Debrecen know exactly what is beyond the carefully laid-out bricks of the old military camp. Some brave Hungarians venture as far as the ‘porta’ (entrance), however, most just stay by the bus stop quietly observing, stealing glances at the refugees going in and out of the camp. People who venture to this last stop of Bus 19 at Samsoni Ut always have these questioning look on their faces as if there are asking “who are these people?”.

Well, I know these people and I know them well. They are the people who were forced to run away from their homes because of war, turmoil in their countries; they are the people who had no choice but to seek help for they cannot help themselves anymore and neither can their government; they are people trying to start a new life where no one can harm them, no threats can be made, and no gunshots heard every minute.

This is what I do in Debrecen, Hungary: I work with refugees. Is it scary? No. Do I get afraid? No. Not even a bit? No. In fact, I love being around these people. In fact, I love my job. The people in camp have so much to tell, so much to share and I have so much to learn. I thought I have done enough with my life – I rode an elephant in Thailand on the main street, snuck into a casino in Las Vegas with a fake ID, prayed with monks in Vientiane, Laos, held a baby tiger, survived Hong Kong during its Fashion Week, travelled to Europe alone – but it is nothing compared to what the refugees have been through.

Their stories are amazing, surreal. One guy walked from Afghanistan to Pakistan, running away from the Taliban; a Somali saw with his own eyes his family being killed right in front of him; riding a 15-seater row boat from Greece to Italy is not easy as it sounds; walking in the middle of winter from Serbia to Hungary, trying to escape war, is not an easy feat.  I have heard these stories from their own mouths. I watched them hold back tears as they talk about their lives, as they talk about their families, their homes and their beloved countries. They always ask “why?” I always have no answer.

That is why I hold these people close to my heart because I have great respect for them and what they have gone through. My job, then, is not so easy. It is to make their lives a little better in camp while they wait for their status.

There is no normal day in camp. There is no normal day at all. There are always people who will go and people who will replace them. It’s hard to say goodbye to these people because I am always with them every day. I have been to a Tunisian-styled party where we danced the night away, ate Palestenian food for countless of dinners, predicted my future using tea leaves with Albanians, played football with Guineans and have them carry me on their shoulders when they let me score a goal, celebrated an Armenian birthday and drank beer with Georgians. More than being a volunteer here, I was part of their lives.

The hardest to say goodbye to are the children because mostly, I spend more time with them. Together with Menedek Foundation that is in the camp, we create programs for them so that their brains continue to think, their hands continue to work and they continue to laughs amidst everything going on around them. Frankly, I learned more from the children than from their parents. Who would have thought that dancing in the rain could be so much fun? Or throwing water on each other on a hot summer day could be one of the best days of your life? Or climbing a tree to get cherries? And do you know that three used car wheels could be amusing for hours at end just rolling them back and forth? And have you ever danced to Albanian music? They need not much to keep them happy, these kids – a hug, some chewing gum, few hours of play.

These children do not understand what they are doing in Hungary and why the other people outside camp speak a different language. But they do understand love, and hugs, and kisses. The children in camp are innovative, vibrant, and happy. They lost part of their childhood yet they remain hopeful; they still smile. I remain hopeful for them also.

I have five more months in camp as a volunteer. I have five more months to try to make people feel somewhat better after everything they have gone through. I have five more months for stories under the trees, Middle Eastern dinners and Serbian parties. I have five more months to make a difference.

People always ask why I decided to volunteer in the camp. It’s a lot of hard work – emotional and physical combined. There’s no pay also. And the language barrier in Hungary is extreme (but I have AIESEC Debrecen to help me with that, always checking up on me). I tell them that I always wanted to help people, ever since, so I thought I could help a lot of people in camp. Did I help a lot of people? I hope so and I hope I can continue to help them in the next five months.

But more than helping them, they also helped me – to grow, to learn, to love. Sure, they are refugees. Sure, they carry around a police card and have no permanent residence as they wait for their status. Sure, we don’t speak a common language. But more than refugees, they are friends. More than asylum seekers, they are my friends.

In the refugee camp, you always learn a thing or two about friendship.

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Fernando Biesdorf írása Magyarországi élményeiről – I. felvonás, eredetiben, angolul:

Hungary – from Brazilian view

Hello, my name is Fernando Biesdorf and despite my surname, I am Brazilian.

I am 23 years old.

I study Computer Science in the Londrina State University. In May I started my 18 months internship in IT Services Hungary Kft. How come Hungary? AIESEC. This non-profit student organization provides a very interesting international platform. And as I am a member in Brazil, and the Debrecen University also hosts an AIESEC Office in the Economics Campus, I had the needed bridge.

The first thing which amused me in Hungary is the language. Right at the Budapest Airport I could not understand anything, at that moment the language became a concern.

Funny thing, Hungarians like to label their language as difficult, forgetting the other labels (which I still have to learn about), like “very flexible”. I read that some Hungarian writers can use a more “personalized Hungarian”, because the language allows you to express the same idea in a huge variety of ways.

The second impact was in the train coming to Debrecen: the smell of flowers! And after also in the city… but I got used to it in two days, unfortunately.

Since then the number of new things, different ideas, has been only growing. Meeting new people every day, understanding their opinions, learning the basics of the local History; all that makes me happy.

All these everyday life things helped me to realize that I am very lucky to be here and that Hungary is a place yet to be discovered by others. For example in Brazil we don’t see any information about Hungary, and that is definitely a pity. I think Hungary should, somehow, broadcast itself more.

Not complaining about Brazilian, but the Hungarian women is really very beautiful.  I also noticed that the students take their role more seriously, they have a more understanding and critical view of things.

As I said there are still lots to know about Hungary, but I can say already, this is a beautiful special country. Thank you and congratulations for what you’ve got.

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