


Years later the children come. They grow up. They go to school.
This grown up “child” walks in to the simulation we’re running here.
He says at the end: “my mother was a refugee. I never knew what it was like to run away until now.”
Also very strikingly was the sense of the “everyday”. People trying to get from ‘a’ to ‘b’. To and from school. Getting their car fixed. Popping to the corner store. There was simply everyday things going on.
I guess what I’m getting at is I had expectations. I expected to feel sorry for these people and I expected to see need head on. I wanted an “experience”. However, it really wasn’t like this. It was rather a case where I just saw people. I spoke with them. I shook their hands, played with their children, kicked a ball around, spoke to them about life inside. Everyone had an opinion. Everyone also had a solution too. We spoke just like I would with my friends down the pub. It was nice to share our time, our space it was just nice to kick back talking about football or some benign topic.
Life as a refugee is different. Life as a CEO is different. Life as a celebrity is different. Surely anyone’s life is different. The criticism that was levied at the simulation was that it dehumanises.
Perhaps it does. Then perhaps it does something else: allow people to see something that they are not familiar with, a chance to simple share their time and space with others.
Like I said the jury is out.
I have 26 minutes before I have breakfast and our morning meeting. Then we’re off on a 20 minute car ride through the most beautiful hills to Davos for day 2.
Yesterday I learnt a number of things: the term “climate refugees”, they bomb the potential avalanche areas around here, teenager can be among the most passionate activists around, but the most interesting story I heard, via a UNCHR guy, after they went through the Refugee Run was of two people (one presumably an aid worker and his brother, brought along for the ride, a photographer) who were visiting and photographing an area of former warfare for inspection and observation. As they ventured into this territory they encountered a slight tuft in the dirt. After a little further inspection it turned out to be a mine. They looked up and they had drifted into a mine field. Looking for the border that was relatively nearby they saw the edge and decided they had to head towards it. It was very delicate process. Touch and go all the way. Painstakingly looking, touching, feeling before each step and closely followed with a sigh of relief. Then it started all over. The whole process took 3 days. For a distance that would have taken, presumably, minutes. The incident was so intense that the photographer upon returning to his home country lost all his hair.
And it wasn’t me.
