" PRPC, located in the mountains of Bataan, was about a 3-hour bus ride from Manila. The PRPC opened in 1980 and closed around 1995. I worked there from 1984 to 1988. More than 400,000 Indochinese refugees (Vietnamese, Khmer, Lao, ethnic Chinese, and some other minority groups) passed through its gates. Almost all of them had already been accepted for resettlement in the U.S., and almost all of them had already spent months and years in first asylum camps in the Philippines, Malaysia, Thailand, Hong Kong, and Indonesia. During their stay in the PRPC, the refugees underwent final processing, health screenings, and studied English and U.S. culture. Most of the photos in this album were taken on one day...the day before I left. They're not the most beautiful, and they don't include ceremonies or friends' faces. I took the photos to remember the look of the camp. What the photos can't express is what the PRPC felt like...the amazing mix of languages, backgrounds, and cultures, the old hatreds and loyalties, the night sounds from the forest, the steam rising from the earth after a sudden downpour, the sound of students repeating an English phrase, the sound of prayers from a temple at sunset..."
~Gaylord Barr~
WE ARE HAPPY TO SHARE ALL OF THE PHOTOS PRESENTED HERE. HOWEVER, IF YOU DO RE-POST ANY OF THEM, PLEASE GIVE US CREDIT.

Saturday, May 30, 2015

A tribute to Gaylord from John Duffy

I received word that Gaylord Barr passed peacefully this morning at home in the company of family and beloved friends. If you knew him, you knew Gaylord as a kind, generous, compassionate, and beautiful soul. When he listened to you, and he was always willing to listen, he made you feel you were the only person in the room, the only possible person on the planet. And his dry wit could leave you laughing so hard your sides hurt.

But those words do not capture Gaylord's passion for justice and his lifelong indignation at injustice. Wherever he lived, in Morocco, Indonesia, the Philippines, Roanoke, he was on the side of the less powerful, the refugees and immigrants. So many loved him, and he loved them back.

I will miss my friend but forever be thankful for the time we shared, and for all he taught me. Horseman, pass by.
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