The Ache for Home For two years, I’ve been photographing refugee families from Burma, Bhutan, and Somalia who now call Minnesota home after fleeing persecution or war-torn countries that were threatening their safety. These three growing refugee communities have dramatically altered the face of the Twin Cities — the largest Karen population in the world outside Southeast Asia is now located in St. Paul and the largest Somali community outside of Africa is located throughout the State of Minnesota. Interestingly, the small Kingdom of Bhutan is the biggest generator of refugees per capita in the world. Although culturally diverse, these three communities all shared a common experience, that of inhabiting a stateless “limbo” — often for decades — before finally calling this heartland state home. These refugee camps offered a safe haven but often at the price of poor living conditions. Most of the children I photograph were born in these camps and have spent their entire lives in one. Does it take days or weeks or years — no matter how safe or comfortable or welcoming — for a new country to feel like home? Or long after the last bag has been unpacked, does one still carry the ache for home?
The Ache for Home
For two years, I’ve been photographing refugee families from Burma, Bhutan, and Somalia who now call Minnesota home after fleeing persecution or war-torn countries that were threatening their safety. These three growing refugee communities have dramatically altered the face of the Twin Cities — the largest Karen population in the world outside Southeast Asia is now located in St. Paul and the largest Somali community outside of Africa is located throughout the State of Minnesota. Interestingly, the small Kingdom of Bhutan is the biggest generator of refugees per capita in the world.
Although culturally diverse, these three communities all shared a common experience, that of inhabiting a stateless “limbo†— often for decades — before finally calling this heartland state home. These refugee camps offered a safe haven but often at the price of poor living conditions. Most of the children I photograph were born in these camps and have spent their entire lives in one.
Does it take days or weeks or years — no matter how safe or comfortable or welcoming — for a new country to feel like home? Or long after the last bag has been unpacked, does one still carry the ache for home?