Day after day, I ran to the bus station to get a lift to the camp. Dozens of syrian refugees - after a night shift in the city- were going home to their tent or container house in the middle of the jordanian desert. 

In the rising temperature and the dryness of the camp, people insisted to offer me some tea and a place to rest in their house. Some english words were used to explain how they had to flee from the syrian army.

The city of Al-Mafraq itself seems to have undergone a war, a quiet peaceful war. The war in Iraq has lowered the commercial exchanges and therefore the importance of the road. The city is noisy and very quiet at the same time. Huge shopping malls with virtually nothing special to buy.