For Werner…
Werner in Zaatari Camp, Jordan in February 2014
As I write this, I can’t stop crying and my body is filled with grief and anger at your loss. Anger at COVID-19 which has taken so many lives….and now yours.
We were just in touch in December 2020, and as always, you sent me words of support that made me feel like the best of the best. I had emailed to ask if it would be ok to use a line from one of your recommendation letters as a testimonial on my website that I was building.
Dear Rua,
It is always a pleasure to connect with you. Of course there is no problem in using the testimonial for your website, provided you share with me the link to your site.
How did you settle down with UNDP ?
Stay in contact.
Best
Werner
Over 7 years since we met and still such a supporter.
Where to begin?
Maybe right at the start when I first joined UNHCR in June 2013. Just out of college, I’m so excited that I get to put my architectural skills to use for something that feels bigger than myself. When I meet you, I learn that you’re in your 70s...74 or 75, if I recall correctly. I’m amazed at the energy and vision and passion you have to still work at this age. There I am, a young 23-year-old, still getting started in her career and life. You put me in charge of helping you with the final design of the transitional shelter (T-Shelter) for Azraq Refugee Camp -the first camp in the world that would be planned and designed before refugees arrive. You explain all the different aspects we have to consider -sourcing the material locally, making sure the structure could withstand the harsh desert climate, privacy for the members of the household, especially the women, designing it to be a kit of parts so that it could be transported easily as separate pieces, easy to dismantle and rebuild so that refugees can take it with them when they repatriate to a demolished Syria and can’t find their houses (maybe wishful thinking...but still an admirable concept).
The UNHCR Jordan team in Azraq Camp at the official opening in April 2014.
I remember how you threw me into leading on things when I felt like I had no idea what I was doing; but you had confidence in me. You ask me to run a consultation session with owners of big factories who could manufacture the T-Shelter structures. You want their critique on the design. Is it easy to build? Is the cost reasonable? Should we make changes? I remember you sitting in the chair near me, arms crossed, leaning back in your chair, your silver hair held back by your glasses, and your proud smile as you watch me take the lead.
When I first join UNHCR, you are leading the intersector Shelter Working Group meetings, with members from many I/NGOs, and I just attend to listen, learn, and take the minutes. Not long after I join, you tell me that I will lead the meetings. Nervous and feeling too inexperienced, I am hesitant, but you insist. And you lean back in your chair with the same smile and pride.
We go to Azraq Camp and you explain to me how rocky the soil is and how we need to make sure to level the structure with adjustable footings. You tell me that based on the experience of Zaatari Camp, we have to leave some plots in each shelter block empty in case people arrive later to join family members who came to Azraq Camp before them. When colleagues and partners want to make changes to the design to cut costs and speed up the construction, while compromising the comfort of the future residents and cultural considerations, you defend the design concept staunchly. You sometimes get angry, rightfully so. You steer clear of office politics that distract from the real mission at hand and you pay little attention to big fancy names that try to make a profitable business case out of a transitional shelter meant to save lives.
In between work, you share your daughter’s photography book, beaming at her talent. You tease me for my incorrect pronunciation of your German mother tongue, and you tell stories of your early days in Malawi and how you found yourself committing to this mission of serving refugees for decades. My colleague, Mais Al-Suradi, and I listen and laugh like two little girls with their grandpa.
Oh, how much it hurts to lose you to this cruel virus. I just sent you an email yesterday to let you know I had launched my website, but I was too late. I’m sorry I didn’t send it earlier. I wish you could have seen it. I think it would have made you really happy.
A principled, no nonsense, relentless man, a servant to the ones who flee. My first mentor and guide, working in service to others until your last day. From you, I learned how to work diligently without waiting for or expecting fanfare or applause or accolades. I learned that sometimes, leaving something dear and moving on, although really hard, can be a blessing. I learned that sometimes, I have to just take the leap and figure things out along the way.
The Jordan, whose weather you loved, will miss you. I will miss you and will miss finding your emails, always woven with encouragement and kindness, in my inbox.
Farewell, Werner. I don’t want to say goodbye.
Werner Schellenberg was an architect, planner, and shelter designer who dedicated his life to serving refugees. He practiced this mission around the world, including Malawi, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Kosovo, Macedonia, Nepal, and Jordan. I had the honor of working under his supervision at UNHCR Jordan as part of the Site Planning team designing Azraq Refugee Camp. He is the mastermind behind the transitional shelter in Azraq Camp and I had the privilege to help him make it a reality. He passed away in March 2021 at the age of 82 after contracting COVID-19. I was told he was working until his last day.
You can get a glimpse of what his life was like by checking his website http://werner-schellenberg.de/.
