Base Camp

Inspirational song: Cruel, Crazy, Beautiful World (Johnny Clegg and Savuka)

We are at the end of the journey, at least as far as we can take the RV. We are in the Red Cross staging area, where new arrivals wait for spots in the refugee camp at the Fairgrounds in Chico. We spend one last night here, and then fly home. We met the man who will take possession of the beastie tomorrow, and walked him through every detail inside and out. There's a lot to learn for a first time RV owner, so Mr Smith-Park will write it all out tonight and leave him a cheat sheet.

The man who is getting the RV seems like a really good guy. He has made himself invaluable to the Red Cross folks, helping in any way he can, including keeping order. They said things can get kind of hairy here. Disputes happen, and it's often loud and rowdy. One volunteer said our guy helped him out of a jam when one of the disputes spilled over and threatened his safety. I feel even better about helping him directly now that I've met him, and seen a photo of his adorable family.

I can already see how much tension there is, living in a refugee camp from an entire town burning down. We haven't been here 24 hours, and the weariness of these souls is palpable. They have been through a lot, and they have so little left. Where I'm sitting now, I'm facing a group of people setting up a solar shower bag in the sun, next to a tent. Imagine having to do basic hygiene this way, every day for weeks or months. (As I typed that sentence, a semi truck went by with "mobile shower services" on the trailer, but I wasn't fast enough on the camera button. Maybe later.) The rig next to us has had loud music playing for an hour. I anticipate it will keep going through bedtime, or longer. If I get a decent night's sleep, I'll be surprised. I wonder how many restful nights these folks have had in a month.