Guest pilgrims sharing their story

Whiplash: Bangladesh to Dubai

by Elizabeth

Whiplash

        verb. jerk or jolt (someone or something) suddenly, typically so as to cause injury.

A reflection by David Forshee after visiting the displaced Royhinga in Bangladesh

Laying in bed with a pounding headache and broken heart I tossed and turned. It had been a long day that spanned two countries with settings that were worlds apart. 

My day started in a 15-passenger van filled with missionary kids and a doctor as we zigzagged down the N1 past lorries, rickshaws, CNGs, animals, and children venturing toward the outskirts of Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh. We were a few minutes outside of a resort beach town closer to the border of Myanmar. This once vacant land is the new settlement to 1 million Rohingya refugees. Temporary homes of tin, bamboo, and used sacks were configured to create makeshift shelters. These buildings were more like recycled shanties stitched together. They meandered like a river up the hills as they flowed out of sight. Men, women, and children lined the streets carrying sacks of rice on their head, while others starred out toward nothingness. Our crew hopped out of the van and spent the next few hours visiting different medical camps while talking with staff about the crisis and the current state of this ignored people group. 

Depending on one’s political worldview, and from which side of the border the story-teller stood, we heard various perspectives of the same story.  Essentially the Rohingya are a people neither welcomed in Myanmar, Bangladesh, or in any South Asian country. Whether these countries dislike the Rohingya for their Muslim faith, uneducated status, physical appearance, or financial poverty; it all ends the same with them pushed from their homes. Their story made headlines when the Burmese government violently threatened their lives giving them no option but to flee through the hills between Myanmar and Bangladesh to the nearest border in hopes of finding refuge. It has been a year since the height of the crisis, and no refuge has yet been found. They remain unwelcomed at all borders, but in Bangladesh they aren’t being shot and haven’t been forced out yet so they stay in order to build some semblance of life. A semi-safe place. 

Surrounding governments, nations, and NGO organizations still don’t know what to do with this stateless people group. They live in limbo along Bangladesh’s border, yet they are not able nor allowed to call Bangladesh their home. They have no idea what is next or where they belong. Feelings of unrest and anxiousness are felt throughout the camps. The Rohingya understand the temporariness of their displaced status.  

Can you imagine being utterly unwanted, displaced, homeless and alone with no one fighting for you? 

Before I could begin to grapple with the reality of what my senses experienced that day, I whisked away to the airport. A couple of layovers later, it was like I transported to a different planet. I plunked down in a deluxe van racing along a now smoothly paved highway (the E11) passing Porches, BMWs, skyscrapers, and nicely manicured properties making my way toward the tallest building in the world, Burj Khalifa, in Dubai. Rather than seeing poverty-stricken children, I stood in front of one of the world’s largest malls observing men, women, and children from around the world who were taking selfies, eating frozen yogurt, carrying bags of recent purchases, and enjoying the electric atmosphere of LED lights, steel, and glass. This luxurious place was home to none of us, as we were all just visitors. Unlike the stateless Rohingya living in a foreign land, these sojourners found joy among the strangers and pleasure in living a lavish, transient life. 

There in-lie my current dilemma. How do I reconcile where I stood that morning versus where I stood the very same evening? How do I enjoy a $5 coffee or my own hotel room when I know there are literally a million people thirsty and without a proper bed? How can our world be home to these vastly different realities and we, the more privileged, do little to nothing in the spaces of neglect? How can we even begin to do something when we feel helpless? 

It has been a couple of months since that trip and I confess that I still don’t have a full answer. I’m still suffering from the effects of whiplash. My mind is boggled with questions. Tears well up every so often. I catch myself looking at my life and wondering, why do I have what I have? And to be honest, there are days and weeks I forget and I still gripe at little things and want more and more stuff in my life. Then something in my mind sets a trigger and I remember those trips and the questions return. The few answers that have cropped up over time are of little comfort. The few truths I begin to grasp are slow, small, and subtle as they embed their rightful place in my heart, mind, and soul. 

Here are some small insights I have gleaned that I hope will give pause to consider your place in our world and our response to those around us.  

  1. I don’t deserve the position I have in life. It is simply a gift. 
  2. I have a deep responsibility. I am among the wealthiest in terms of money, opportunity, influence, freedom, and comfort. But these are not given to me just for my own sake. I have a responsibility and call to steward all of these.
  3. I’m a steward for what? To glorify the one and only God, to enjoy Him and His gifts, and to be a blessing to others. 
  4. I can’t fix war, refugee crisis, greed, let alone my own sinful proclivities. But I can join Christ in the ministry of reconciliation. I can submit to Him and ask with openness to be transformed by Him and used to see individuals, communities, systems, and societies reformed more and more into what they are meant to be. Things are not the way they were intended or created to be. A million people aren’t meant to be living in squalor; nor are a million people meant to be living in excessive wealth. But God, in Christ, through the power of the Holy Spirit utilizing His people, the Church, is expanding His ruling Kingdom here and now. Tangible acts of love and provision are being shown even in the midst of a refugee camp and high rise condo. 
  5. In His power, God is taking that which is meant for evil and turning it toward good. We have a role in this. I have a role in this. But am I willing to submit myself, my talents, my gifts, my money— all of my wealth, before the Cross each and every day?

To learn more about the Rohingya and their current situation visit:

https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-41566561

Ways to be prayerful about the current realities in our world: