"See through the eyes of a Refugee"

What struck me about the refugee experience at Humanity House in The Hague was not the empathy. It was the closterphobia and noise. The narrow corridors with doors at the end. It was something out of a Resident Evil video game. That creaking.



Then there were the voices from the radios. Behind the mountain of ring folders. It was the distinct lack of humans that struck me. I was in an experience of inhumanity.



I saw pictures of people. Faces. but I found i wasn't caring. I was just wanting to stick my head down and get through the ordeal. It wasn't bad. It was just a complete carnal feeling of survival through not engaging. Through switching off and become as close to the environment as possible.



I recall the haunting room of a small in between room where there was an ornate mantle piece with Candles and a stunning mirror. I loved looking into it and was thinking this must have been like the room Viktor Frankl describes when speaking with his father about leaving the country before he headed into the concentration camps specially designed for the Jewish people. It has a lovely carpet and a well lit ambiance.



The haunting thing was when I stared in the mirror long enough to realise that it was not staring back at me. I was not reflected. My humanity was not even in the room.



It's hard not to feel a fraud in such a moment. Especially on a day where I have been hearing non stop of "a genocide" within Aleppo.