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Camp FEMA Update: "We Feel Like We're In a Concentration Camp"
Though details are scarce and media coverage has been completely restricted by officials, stories of what victims of Hurricane Sandy are experiencing at the hands of the Federal Emergency Management Agency in the wake of the storm have begun to emerge.

The few available images from these so-called "tent cities" suggest that Camp FEMA isn't all it's cut out to be, with one resident using some choice words to describe how FEMA and the Red Cross have completely failed at their jobs.

...made an announcement that they were sending us to permanent structures up here that had just been redone, that had washing machines and hot showers and steady electric, and they sent us to tent city. We got f--k-d.

In other such tent cities the conditions are about as bad as you can describe them; on the order of third-world refugee camp, or worse:

One reason: the information blackout. Outside of the tightly guarded community on Friday, word was spreading that the Department of Human Services would aim to move residents to the racetrack clubhouse on Saturday. The news came after photos of people bundled in blankets and parkas inside the tents circulated in the media.

But inside the tent city, which has room for thousands but was only sheltering a couple of hundred on Friday, no one had heard anything about a move -- or about anything else. "They treat us like we're prisoners," says Ashley Sabol, 21, of Seaside Heights, New Jersey. "It's bad to say, but we honestly feel like we're in a concentration camp."

Access to the facilities has been restricted by armed guard. The same holds true for activities inside of the facilities, with guards posted around the clock.

The post-storm housing -- a refugee camp on the grounds of the Monmouth Park racetrack -- is in lockdown, with security guards at every door, including the showers.

No one is allowed to go anywhere without showing their I.D. Even to use the bathroom, "you have to show your badge," said Amber Decamp, a 22-year-old whose rental was washed away in Seaside Heights, New Jersey.

The mini city has no cigarettes, no books, no magazines, no board games, no TVs, and no newspapers or radios. On Friday night, in front of the mess hall, which was serving fried chicken and out-of-the-box, just-add-water potatoes, a child was dancing and dancing -- to nothing. "We're starting to lose it," said Decamp. "But we have nowhere else to go."
Posted by: Au Auric 2012-11-12
http://www.rantburg.com/poparticle.php?ID=355880