Denis Bosnic

Shayma (name changed), a mother of three from Dara'a, collecting the laundry in her UN caravan home. Her husband, Abdullah, says there is no doubt in their mind that Syria is the only place where they can live. (photo: Denis Bosnic)

Abdullah and Shayma have been in the camp for three years now. (photo: Denis Bosnic)

"Some of my children have never seen Syria. What will they think of as their home? A place where we cannot work and are not allowed to move freely? The priority now is to have as many children as possible in order not to lose our family name, too many in my family have died," says Abdullah, Shayma's husband (photo: Denis Bosnic)

"We had a good life before, but after our cousins started calling us and telling us of their friends being burned alive... and when we heard the planes circling the town, we didn't pack anything. We just left," says Abdullah. (photo: Denis Bosnic)

Zaatari is one of the biggest camps in the world with a fluctuating population between 60 000 and 120 000 inhabitants. (photo: Denis Bosnic)

Much of its services is provided by the international community, as well as regional state and private donors. However, money has been drying up lately, with rations cut and services scaled back.  (photo: Denis Bosnic)

The camp is starting to function like a city, however, apart from school, there are almost no possibilities for entertainment or further skill development in the camp for its sizable young population. (photo: Denis Bosnic)

The outskirts of the camp are permeable, in spite of a heavy police and military presence, the more entrepreneurial refugees manage to trade with locals from the area. (photo: Denis Bosnic)

In spite of many people leaving, many chose to stay and are trying to make permanence take hold in a situation that the world and local governments consider temporary. (photo: Denis Bosnic)

Many of the bicycles seen whizzing by on the streets of Zaatari have actually been donated by the city of Amsterdam and its inhabitants. (photo: Denis Bosnic)

The rations are rarely enough and in response to it, many small bakeries and food stalls have popped up to fill the gap. (photo: Denis Bosnic)

I met Abdullah in a shop where his cousin works as a shop assistant selling spices and herbs. (photo: Denis Bosnic)

The conventional wisdom is that Syrians from Dara'a have been the first ones to rise up against Assad's regime. However, in my conversations with people that fled the Syria's souther region for the safety of Zaatari, very few understand the situation or are able to keep track of the myriad of changes in allegiances.  (photo: Denis Bosnic)

New children are born in the camp daily, just recently the UN celebrated the 5,000th child delivered in the maternity ward. The number is however most probably much higher since many women decide to give birth without a help of the local doctors. (photo: Denis Bosnic)

The weather situation in Zaatari is difficult for everyone, but especially for the little children who often suffer from lung-related diseases due to the frequent sand storms and the ever-present dust. (photo: Denis Bosnic)

Rahman (name changed) in front of a shop where he works. He says it helps him sustain his family, however, he sees no future for himself in the camp and has decided to go back the first opportunity he has. (photo: Denis Bosnic)

Majd, a 17-year old teenager from Dara'a, is a local cigarette vendor. He says he fled the conflict with his family and is happy to be safe, but is desperate for achieving more than just sitting in a cigarette booth. (photo: Denis Bosnic)

Majd says that the constant dust-storms and lack of proper structure for hygiene (lack of running water, for example), makes everyone sick for prolonged periods of time here. He especially loathes the acne that developed on his face after his arrival to the camp. (photo: Denis Bosnic)

Hassan, an olive vendor told me that he cannot wait for everyone fighting in Syria to leave. When I asked where, he replied: "Anywhere. Anywhere but there." (photo: Denis Bosnic)

Leaving Zaatari is complicated. The ones that decide to leave for Syria often disappear with no word, however, there are many who try to marry Jordanians in hopes of acquiring a citizenship.

There is inherent sense of hope in marrying, however many of the marriages are pre-arranged for the possibility of gaining a foothold in Jordan. (photo: Denis Bosnic)

Ismaa, the wedding-dress owner, had a beauty salon on Damascus but had to leave when her husband died. "If God allows, we will have happiness, even here." (photo: Denis Bosnic)