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The camp in Northern Myanmar was not what I had imagined: there were permanent buildings, clear roads, shops, and a community gathering place.
It seemed like a new town, not a temporary camp.
After the show, a middle-aged man named Mohammad approached me and said, “Thank you for coming. Thank you for remembering that we are displaced. My children do not remember our village, but I know this is not where we are from. I do not know if we will ever go back.”
For Mohammad, our show offered recognition. He was torn between wanting his children to have a stable, joyful childhood, and also grieving the home he had left behind.