Shelter offers relative comfort

A child makes her way home from school in Zaatari. Photo by Steve Addison.

We drive slowly through the crowded Zaatari market to District 1. This is the oldest section of the camp and most of tents have been replaced by relocatable buildings.

After parking the car and continuing on foot, we are approached by a tall Syrian man, Abdo Hasan Alboqaai, who invites us to see his home.

Stepping though his gate we are surprised to find ourselves in a concrete courtyard which features a large fountain as a centrepiece.

The relocatables are connected into a series of bedrooms, a lounge and a kitchen, giving the shelter the feel of a modern home.

It could not have been more different from the dilapidated tent city in District9.

He proudly shows us the air-conditioning unit he has installed and the electricity wires he has dangerously spliced into the camp's network.

His children sit watching satellite TV.

''I designed this house myself,'' he says proudly.

The house serves as home to six.

Abdo had been a car salesman in Syria. He is from a small town in Dara'a.

His tale of life in Syria is like the others we have heard.

''There was no-one left in my village. There were many arrests.

"Yesterday we heard that the village had been bombed again. Many have been killed in the bombings. There was no electricity, no bread, no water.''

I ask about the disparity in living conditions within the camp and he responds that those who have been in the camp longer have had more opportunity to build a life.

As we talk, a neighbour comes to visit us. She is dressed in traditional hijab and sits down, asking if she can tell us her story.

Her name is Alia Mostafa and she lives in the camp with her baby and two other young daughters and sons.

Her husband is stuck in Syria as he has no documentation. She says having her husband absent makes it very difficult to survive in the camp.

''My life is very bad without my husband. He cannot come to the camp without papers to prove he is Syrian.