REFUGEES
BRAZIL
Displaced David Giles, IHQ Communications Manager, reflects on The Salvation Army’s response to Venezuelan migrants fleeing economic and political turmoil to seek refuge in northern Brazil.
T
HE hairs on the back of my neck pricked up. I was talking to Carlos, an eloquent, up-and-coming film producer. Or he was until the hyperinflation afflicting his native Venezuela meant the job he loved was no longer viable. In fact, the country’s whole film industry was no longer financially stable. Carlos had put on his best shirt to come and speak to me. He wanted to share his story. He wanted people to understand that refugees heading desperately across the border into northern Brazil were not benefit cheats, scroungers or here just to make a quick buck. The infrastructure in Venezuela was failing, he told me. There were no jobs. Law and order were breaking down. I was there with colleagues to make a film about the refugee response, but it had got personal. Carlos was about
the same age as me. He had a family like mine. He had been employed in a similar profession to me. He was talented, hardworking and diligent. And we were now both in the same place – a United Nations-run temporary shelter on the outskirts of Boa Vista. It could so easily have been the other way round – Carlos behind the camera, me the refugee. It’s only really a quirk of geography that means it was not. It’s manifestly unfair. Carlos’s story was far from unusual. We met Yulimar, a technical operator for a TV station in Caracas. We met Julio, a nurse. We met Maria, whose career was in disaster and risk management. A social worker. A perfumier. Mums. Dads. Children. All away from their homes, their jobs, their circles of friends and connections. The International Monetary Fund forecast inflation reaching 10 million per cent in Venezuela last year – prices of
‘It could so easily have been the other way round – Carlos behind the camera, me the refugee’ 10 | ALL THE WORLD |
APRIL–JU N E 2020
Above: Carlos, a Venezuelan film producer who fled to Brazil
everyday commodities like food, water and electricity doubling every 19 days. Essential services such as healthcare, education and the judiciary severely affected or curtailed. And that’s why more than four million Venezuelans have fled the country since the troubles began in 2014 – not far short of the entire population of New Zealand. In preparing for the week-long shoot, we’d enjoyed excellent cooperation from The Salvation Army’s Brazil Territory, which has risen admirably to the challenge of meeting refugees’ needs in this part of the Amazon basin. We were all keen to share the narrative as authentically as possible, but couldn’t quite be certain what access we would have, given that The Salvation Army is but one small part of a massive response. We discovered that a palpable sense of unity existed across the Brazilian government, military, police, United Nations agencies and many other international non-governmental organisations to more local charities, foundations and church groups. Most filming requests, we were told, had been