Three years ago, when I set foot on the land of Iraq with a mission, I was shocked by the yellow sandy wilderness and the desolate scene under the setting sun. Iraq, the land that gave birth to ancient civilizations, has witnessed splendor in the long river of history, and has also endured the ravages of too many wars. Now, this vast land is experiencing the pains of rebirth, and I have spent nearly three years here with the promise of aid and the hope for the future. This journey has been like a spiritual journey, allowing me to feel the fragility and resilience of life, the sadness and the hope in every little bit.
Early 2022, the first arrival in Baghdad, the capital of Iraq. On that day, the sky was a reddish-orange haze that slowly fell above the earth, like a ray of warmth hidden in the dust. Outside the window of the car, a patch of blast walls intersected with barren land, and it seemed that even the air carried the bitterness of sand and dust. The scene is very different from the city we are familiar with.
Our mission is to build new schools and bring new hope to education in rural Iraq. However, when we first arrived, the challenges we faced far exceeded our imagination. The difficult environment, the shortage of materials, the threatening security situation, as well as the disconnection and mistrust with the locals all made our reconstruction task difficult. Facing those searching and questioning gazes, I deeply realized the heavy responsibility of reconstruction. Nevertheless, we are determined to bring strength to this land, even in the face of countless sandstorms and unknown obstacles.
Every day, the blue sky and the yellow soil intertwine to form a quiet and desolate picture. In such a world, we have been working hard all day and all night. The team often encounters unexpected difficulties on projects in the South, with storms, sandy soil, and the sometimes unprovoked behavior of low-quality local people, making everything seem uncertain.
Although the conditions were tough, we were not alone. As the project progressed, we gradually interacted more with the local people. I remember one time, when our school was located in the middle of a wasteland, a local elder brought us home-baked pancakes. Although he didn't speak our language, his every gesture made us feel warm. In those days, our work was not only about building, but also about bridging the differences in language and culture with each other's hearts. Day and night, the locals worked with us, sat with us, and spoke with their smiles and gestures of gratitude and anticipation.
Over the long years, little by little, efforts have gradually left their mark on the land. As the geographical situation gradually stabilized, a road built by the government was opened, and a bridge was completed, the landscape of Iraq was quietly changing. I often stood on the high ground at the school site, looking at the newly built roads winding through the yellow soil, connecting distant villages and cities. It is no longer just the silent earth, replaced by bustling crowds and the sounds of busy labor. I know that these buildings are not just a functional presence, but also a support for the future that will make every Iraqi feel warmth and security in his or her heart.
Three years have passed in a flash, and many of our schools will soon be completed. Next to the 101# school, which has already been completed, there are often students passing by after school and villagers stopping by. Under the dusk, the afterglow of the setting sun pours onto their faces with a warm golden glow, which is the longing and hope for the future.
Looking back on the three years of reconstruction support, this unfamiliar land has left a deep mark in my heart. I have felt the power of life here, and the kindness and resilience of human nature. Our job is not just to build schools, but to sow hope in this land with our hearts. At the time of the handover, I seemed to be able to hear the blessings and prayers ringing in the wind and sand, accompanied by the reverberation of the earth, lingering in my heart for a long time. Three years of reconstruction support, although a short moment, but left an eternal memory. I will return to my homeland with a heart full of emotion and responsibility. This experience will be like a bright pearl, forever set in the journey of my life.