For a child to spend even a small amount of their precious short childhood in a refugee camp is a situation we should all feel ashamed of. But even more so when the camp is in Europe, where there is the infrastructure and economy to provide some initial support, to help families start new life. The displaced people I have met, invariably do not want charity, they are smart, educated and proud. They certainly don’t want or need hand outs.

I arrived home from Chios yesterday, after only 4 days on the island. My brain is still reeling with experiences, thoughts and conversations. I admit that my mind has not yet processed and dealt with my time on the island, thoughts remain chaotic and unruly…. I know it will take a minimum of a month to become ordered and manageable. Sitting alone, thinking and writing can help – so here I am.

I think about the kids I met on this trip and how different they were from the last time I visited Vial refugee camp. In July when I visited, I did some small craft / art workshops with the children on camp.

The weather was hot, dry and dusty but this didn’t deter the children from wanting to create some beautiful artwork. To begin with it was hard to keep any control, with small disagreements breaking out constantly – fights over colours/paper, children running off with pockets full of pens, general disorder I suppose. After a few days, it got a little better – some pens were returned and the children seemed to enjoy a modicum of calm and order.

This visit was immeasurably different in many ways. I arrived with my good friend Ahmad, we only had 1 hour to spare and I wondered if this was enough to start creating the boundaries need to make a safe and calm space for the children to draw. I had some books with me, given to me by people in England and some puppets. These were destined for the Meta Drasi volunteer school in Vial, but I thought I could use them to give the kids some inspiration. I changed my mind many times as to whether to bring these books or not, would they cause a big problem, fighting and craziness? Ahmad assured my it would be OK – I thought that if things went wrong then I could gather whatever books I could and put them in the car. I was meeting a volunteer teacher and resident of the camp later that day to give him the books for the school.

So we arrived, put out the box of pens, paper and a bag of books/puppets. Pretty soon, some children came. They sat, created pictures and read the books with relish. Their minds eager to learn, asking questions and fully engaged with the activities. However, there was none of the desperation to possess the books or pens that I had seen in previous visits, no hit and run attempts at all. They were happy to share and collaborate. When we needed to leave, I asked the children to put the books and puppets back into the bag, the tops on the pens and back in the box. I suppose I didn’t really expect this would happen, even though I said it with conviction. I should not have underestimated them, they tidied away everything and handed it back to me, saying “tomorrow teacher?”.

I told them I would back at 9am the next morning, they left happy and contented with this information. I was elated. The change palpable.

The next day, I wanted to bring a snack of carrots and oranges for the kids. Fruit and vegetables are in short supply in Vial, so I thought the children could eat whilst they played. I was warned quite firmly against this, told this could cause real problems and fighting among the kids. I understood this, I had seen first hand how good intentions coupled with naivety could cause big problems and chaos in a place like Vial. The last thing I wanted was to cause more chaos so I considered the issues carefully. Using my experience from the previous day and after discussing with Ahmad and Omar who would be accompanying me, we decided to take the food. If there was any sign of trouble, we would immediately take the box of food to the car out of the way.

We arrived at camp and the children came. We had a truly beautiful hour together. They drew, read, played, ate and generally had fun.

 

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When we needed to go, they tidied up happily – saying again “tomorrow teacher?”. This time though my heart sank –

“No” I said “I leave tomorrow, I can’t come in the morning”. I looked into their faces waiting for a reaction, my face a picture of neutrality.

“Oh Ok” was the reaction – off they went back to their tents, confident and with a spring in their step.

I thought about the children here only 8 months ago, clingy, desperate, needy, hard to control in any way… What had changed? I am sure that a major part of the change is the provision of some schooling. All children are now entitled to go to school for a couple of hours a day – after the Greek children have finished school – the refugee kids go to school. In addition, there is a school on camp run by volunteers – the children can attend classes here in the morning. We donated books to both the Greek school and the volunteer school

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A good friend of mine is a primary school teacher on the island. She teaches the refugee kids in the afternoon. each day. I asked her about this, she told me how the children came to school with an unfettered energy, an enormous enthusiasm to learn. She said, “I mean, not just one or two children, all of the children are like this, its the most rewarding job.”

The small activities we arranged on camp were fun for the kids, they enjoyed them – they were engaged and inquisitive. But these activities were not crucial to the kids, they were not craved and desired to any extent. They attended school, their brains were exercised, they had some structure to their lives. I find joy in this small step in the right direction.