A dozen of them strung out along the narrow asphalt road leading into the camp. The others dotted indiscriminately over the seemingly endless plain. The heat is unbearable. Nonetheless, the narrow streets are abuzz with activity. Women have congregated around a decrepit, rusty tanker-lorry and are filling plastic canisters with water.
Men go by deep in discussion.
Our presence causes the greatest interest among the children of the camp who greet us with excitement. Following our initial inquiries, we are directed to the refugees' own organizational body, the camp committee. On the way there we are struck by the state of the tents we pass. Many are broken, some held together only by rags. Branches or twigs with dry leaves have been used to replace missing sides, in an attempt to provide shelter against the dust-filled wind.