Today I was walking through the village of Nizip. I saw what I thought was a very lively-looking market. The colors were very bright. There were lots of people. “I will definitely check that one out,” I thought to myself.
As I walked in something seemed weird to me. I noticed there were a lot of children running around, a lot more children than is normal for a market. Then I noticed a lot of men were sitting around on the ground. “That’s not normal for a market, either,” I thought. Then I noticed the tents. They were almost completely empty, also not normal for a market.
Then I looked closer at the people. They were not Turks. They were Syrians. I was not walking through a market. I was walking through a Syrian refugee camp.