Solidarity for refugees

I am aware I need to write more about my latest time on Chios .. I think my thoughts have not been properly processed. Probably as I travelled straight to Rhodes for a family holiday after Chios.. so epitomizes the juxtaposition of my 2 lives.

Yesterday we arrived on beautiful Symi ..

I was aware of boats arriving on Symi recently, and also that people were kept in the police station.

After a trip to the beach with the kids, I parked them on the steps of the police station.

I walked up yellow stone stairs to a large balcony area which surrounded the jail. The balcony housed many people sleeping outside on familiar, grey blankets. A metal gate was closed at the top of the stairs, so I was unsure whether to enter. Instead I started a conversation with a guy from Syria. He arrived 5 days ago having travelled from Damascus. He said there were many Syrians along with Palestinians and people from the Congo. Among them children, babies and pregnant women.

A policeman came out the office and beckoned me inside. “You can’t talk to my prisoners without my permission” he stated angrily. I looked to the 2 small children sitting outside his office and then back to his face. I swallowed my contempt for this statement .. and apologised for my error. He asked for my passport – which predictably I didn’t have with me .. we continued the tense conversation until I prepared to leave.

As I left, I asked one more time ..” is there anything the people urgently need?”

He softened a little and told me .. soap and breakfast items (as breakfast isn’t provided) .. he added that I was not to talk his prisoners and if I was to give any items I must give to him directly.

I decided return to the police station in the morning – Ben (my 19 year old son) offered to come and help.

We went shopping early the next morning, the issue was that the island is so expensive . I wanted to buy toothpaste and toothbrushes – but this would have cost around 160 euros. I chose carefully.. shampoo, soap, bread, jam, tinned fish and bananas.

I was a little concerned about whether the police would be difficult, but today there was a young guy on duty who allowed access without restriction. I gave some items to the Syrian families at the front of the station, but the guy from Damascus told me to go around the corner as the people there had more need. I hadn’t realised there were so many people.

Some mothers asked for baby milk and water – nobody on the balcony had any water.

I talked with the mothers, we smiled together.. they told me how difficult it was for the babies to sleep on the concrete floor outside – I reminded myself of my whining at sleeping in Athens airport for only 1 night – -just 2 weeks ago.

I told them I would return with water and baby milk .. thankfully Ben was on hand to help ..

I met a gregarious woman from Congo, who arrived last Saturday.. she is 8 and a half months pregnant. She smiled as she told me she was being transferred to Athens today to have her baby …excitement and joy on her face .. I know Athens is such a difficult place to live and so I hope with all my heart she and her baby are granted asylum very soon.

The people here are very supportive of each other.. there seems no animosity between cultures/ nationalities .. because of this atmosphere I was able to give the water and biscuits to a Syrian guy to distribute- I always feel uncomfortable dishing out aid – like some sanctimonious white saviour..

As we were preparing to leave, a man stuck his head through the bars of the jail .. speaking in Arabic to me.. he was asking me to speak to the police and get him out of jail .. I explained that I was not a legal person and could nt help.. he was grasping at straws .. probably locked up for no real reason as many are .

As we left .. a woman asked for toothpaste for her baby .. I inwardly kicked myself.. I know it’s expensive .. but maybe a few tubes of toothpaste could be shared amongst this community of people thrown together in the most difficult circumstances.. A little later I returned with a bag of tubes of toothpaste and was welcomed warmly by an elderly man who opened the gate for me to enter.  Again I handed the toothpaste to someone living there – he shared fairly between the various  families.

In this life .. I don’t feel good about doing these small acts of solidarity .. not really . Moreover I am frustrated and disgusted with our society. There is always more we can and must do #onehumanrace

A couple of days ago I met a tall, handsome man from Cameroon in Vial.  He was keen to be involved in the Human Voice Project – now I realise why.  He is only 28 years old, dresses trendily and has a calm aura about him.  Today thanks to my humanitarian friend Mary Wenker of Choosehumanity I have just received the translation.

It is a detailed account of life in Cameroon for a gay man – it makes hard reading.  I cant share the full story yet .. it will be exhibited in the USA and Europe through Love without Borders.  I was always passionate about this project, but only now has the enormity of it hit me – like a bulldozer.

This is his final paragraph to give a taste of his humanity and  strength of character.

“In conclusion, the homosexual has no place when you come from Cameroon. We are not welcomed by the government. That’s why I came to Greece, hoping that here the government will offer us a better consideration, and a better life. Because we also have the right to life. We are also entitled to freedom, to the desire to live, to fulfillment, to respect of human rights. In short: we are human beings like the others ! Long live to Human rights ! Long live to homosexuality! Long live to the European Union! Long live the whole world”

I am writing this in the ten minutes spare I have.. its my second day and as usual it feels like I have been here weeks.

I am so happy with how the Human Voice Project has started , and so grateful to the help that Ahmad has given .. This project is close to his heart, it was he who suggested it to me many months ago – the brain child of his close friend Kayra from Love without Borders.

In the blistering heat of Vial in July, we arrived yesterday around 5,30pm.  With the help of Faisal (a kind, smart, calm, peaceful English teacher who lives in Vial), we found 11 people to participate.  The people we met were so keen to take part, so keen to have a chance to have a voice.

The people participating so far are from; Palestine, Yemen, Somalia, Iran, Syria, Iraq, Cameroon, Congo, Ethiopia and Afghanistan .. we are trying to represent all the nationalities here in Vial.  In return for their participation we are giving them 20 euros to thank them, living on 90 euros (or sometimes people have no income) a month is very tough here in Greece.

A tall, gracious man from Cameroon came to me and told me how desperate he was to tell his story, to explain what happened in his country and why his life has brought him to Vial.  He has been here for 6 months, when I said – ah that’s a long time for you – he firmly shook his head – “No” he said “I am safe here, I am happy to be here after what happened in my country.”  His words will stay with me always, as I try to use my imagination and empathy to think of a situation whereby I would be happy to live in Vial, as the alternative is so much worse.

 

As I sit in Athens Airport I have some time to think .. I know I have written about this before, but each time I travel – I feel perplexed as I look at my (still red) passport.  Its so strange to me that this small document allows me such freedom, security – it feels surreal.   How those in power in our world have created these borders, rules and structures to label and control humans.

I think of the intelligent, compassionate, humorous and downright amazing people I have met who do not have this small precious document.  Anger bubbles inside me as I mull over – who makes these decisions – The inhumane EU/Turkey, the criminalisation of rescue ships as sea, the separation of families at borders.. the list really is endless .. all designed to divide us.

I thinks it is really only when you are denied the freedom of a passport that you appreciate its importance in todays world of borders, rules and structures.

I disembarked from the plane, into chaos – a huge crowd of people waiting to go through passport control.  Not sure what the problem was – but, I knew that I had my (small red) document – I knew that I would be ok – just waiting maybe an hour – inconvenient, but ultimately insignificant.

As I travel – I wear my ‘No-one is Illegal’ T shirt as a lame, impotent protest, but I know that the only comeback I will have is side glances and strange looks .. in todays world I can protest in the safe knowledge that I have my (small, red) document to open doors and allow freedom – for as long as I have it (and possibly this is not a certainty)  I will always try not to take my freedom for granted.

 

 

 

In 1 weeks time I complete my course to become a Primary School Teacher. Its been intense, like a roller coaster. With lofty highs and dismal lows …. My choice was to leave a career with a decent wage to start a new career at the bottom of the pack, learning the trade from scratch. I know that I still have loads to learn, but I am on the path now.

The very fact that I was able to make this life choice makes me a member of the most privileged groups on this small blue planet. I will never forget this or take it for granted – not when some of my best friends have had the ability to make life choices suspended indefinitely.

In 2 weeks time I travel back to Chios and will be running 2 projects .. The Birds of Hope Project and The Human Voice Project. 2 projects with 1 aim of spreading unity, compassion and humanity.

In my current placement school my class consists of 7/8 year olds from many different countries – its a very ethnically diverse school. I conducted a session with them, telling them about 2 sisters I met in Greece, aged 6 and 8 – about the decision their mum made to leave Aleppo as the war got closer. The children tried to imagine what they would be thinking as they left their home, as they were packed into a rubber dingy at night by smugglers and also as they lived in a dirty, inhumane, depressing refugee camp for months. I was (as I always am) so impressed by the childrens seemingly inbuilt and natural compassion for their fellow humans, and their incredulity when considering a world where people are forced to take such risks. Every day I learn something from them.

Following this session we were joined by an inspirational artist who lives in Leicester. George is Greek and has connections with Chios – in the 1920’s, his mother aged 4 was a child packed into a wooden fishing boat on the shores of Turkey, she was a refugee headed to Chios. Escaping persecution due to her Christian faith. This project was clearly incredibly important and personal to George – and it showed in his enthusiasm and passion.

The children screen printed Birds of Hope and wrote beautiful messages, these I will take to Chios – messages from children to children – powerful and poignant.

With the rise of intolerance and fascism in our world from my generation and older. From not allowing people to travel to safety legally, to criminalising people who help refugees, to the separation of children from their parents at the Mexico / US border and the constant dehumanisation of different groups of people by the media .. It could be said that the education of our young people, to tap into their natural empathy and compassion may be the only way to combat this worrying trend growing on our small blue planet. #resist #kidsarethefuture

Birds of Hope Project – children uniting and providing solidarity through art.

I travel back to Chios in July  just for a few days, this time I wanted to do something different – something related to the importance of human connections.  I have 2 projects I want to do whilst on Chios – the first is the Bird of Hope Project, the second I am still thinking through and I will write about later.

The refugee crisis is not reported any longer –  there were high levels of interest after the discovery of 4-year-old Alan Kurdi’s body on a Lesvos beach in September 2015, but that’s old news now. Many thousands of people have perished since – whole families wiped out, buried in unmarked graves, but their deaths have been largely unreported.
We don’t hear about the rubber dinghy’s crossing the ocean – packed with families escaping war, but every day they come. We don’t hear about the unsanitary refugee camps were people live in tents at the mercy of the changeable weather, trapped for months or years in inhumane conditions with a lack of very basic human needs –their lives in limbo.

For me, providing essential aid to people in the camps is very important, but I passionately believe that human connections, telling the human story and solidarity should be a primary part my work.
It is from this philosophy that the idea for the ‘Birds of Hope’ project took seed. In the past I have taken messages of support when volunteering… as below ..

…but this time with ‘Birds of Hope’ theses messages take on a different twist.

It’s a small thing I am facilitating, I know that, but if it can help some people in camp to feel that they have not been forgotten and abandoned by the wider world then its worth it. This project however, is different as we have the help of a talented artist living locally, George Sfouaras from Greece and funding from University of Leicester for all the materials.
George says; ‘ We aim to form a bridge between children in Leicester and their peers living in the most difficult circumstances in refugee centres in Greece. We will print kites and smaller handheld birds that will be decorated by year 3 students which will carry messages of hope to the Vial camp on the island of Chios. We will also print and decorate a storybook and other images which will be sent over and cards which will be decorated by the recipients and returned to Leicester.”

The University of Leicester have been very supportive of this project and is already very active regarding providing support to refugees and asylum seekers in the City of Leicester. The University was awarded the status of University of Sanctuary in 2018 and is working with a range of organisations across the city and beyond so its been great to have them on board.

As you may know, I am currently training to be a primary school teacher, and it’s the children in my placement school who will produce the Birds of Hope to take to Chios in July.  Also, I will be taking equipment with me to Greece, so the children in Vial Refugee Camp can send message back to the UK.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times (Charles Dickens) #HaraHotel

I have written about #HaraHotel in previous posts, all written from the heart, trying to show individuals as they are… people not numbers. Those who have read those posts may be surprised by the title of this one – Hara Hotel was inhumane and torturous for those who lived there and even I, as a volunteer still bear the mental scars of that place after nearly 3 years. How could time spent there be seen as anything other than horrendous?

At Hara – the aim was to keep people alive and I am not using dramatic license. I am reminded of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs – many of the people here did not even have control over their basic needs after being forced to leave their homes – often having handed their life savings over to smugglers …and finding themselves in Europe but without food, water, warmth rest or shelter. Northern Lights Aid (a Norwegian grass roots organisation I worked with at Hara) worked so hard to provide these basic needs, I am still awe inspired by what they achieved during their time there, always trying to complete their work with dignity and respect.

I met my ‘adopted’ son Samer at Hara Hotel and in April 2016, we built a bond over only 10 days but knew that we would not lose touch. Over the years we speak sporadically, he has been through hell after escaping the war in Syria, experiencing the inhumanity of Europe … he reached Switzerland but has waited ever since with his life in limbo for his asylum to be accepted.

Samer and I would reminisce about Hara and the people we formed strong friendships with during that time. I can remember that time in exact detail; conversations, people, events .. and so can Samer. Obviously, he was there much longer than me.. but he also has vivid memories of each day – never to be forgotten memories of the place. He laughs now about the hardship – the cold, lack of food, tiredness, the day all his belonging were soaked when his tent leaked and yet…. he he more often speaks .. incredibly fondly and witg love of the people – from all over the world who came together to Hara Hotel when those with the power turned their backs.

We remember the horror of the place, but also the kindness and spirit. Walking through Hara always took longer than you planned, as you were ushered into tents for chats, chai and snacks.

Samer does not speak of the food these volunteers brought, or the clothes, or the tents, or the sleeping bags – these things were essential for survival of the body but the soul and mind needed compassion, understanding and solidarity .. this is what is remembered years after leaving the camp … how we worked together as a team, how we laughed together, how we supported each other, connected as human brings and how even in a place like Hara, you could make firm friends for life. We were a great team !

I wanted to write this post as a marker for a great occasion – yesterday after nearly 3 years in Switzerland Samer has finally received notification that his asylum application has been accepted. Those who know Samer, know his smile! But yesterday his smile was so different, so immense, expressing real joy and hope for the future. I am so happy for him …he can now take some control over his life. #stillbuzzing

For Samer – you are stronger than you think ..

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.

My donors bought 32 cookers for Vial. Cooking brings people together, gives some purpose to day and an opportunity to exercise the ‘gift’ of choice. This does not happen when you stand in a line waiting for a plastic container filled with nutrient free, overcooked, vegetable absent, tasteless food. So I thought this was an investment worth making.

When you can cook, the day has some focus, a walk to nearest decent shop, choose your food, prepare it then share with your family and friends.

There were 2 small distributions neither without issues. I had 2 amazing helpers; both speak great English, are highly educated and ontop of this, they have an enviable work ethic. However, beneath the warm smiles, energy and willingness to help… you can see how this work drains the spirit. You can never keep Every one happy in Vial, it’s not that kind of place. So they are constantly having to deal with a few disgruntled residents of the camp.

One helper lives in Vial he knows most of the people who come and go from the camp. He created a list of people who needed cookers the most, then on the morning of the first distribution they went into camp and gave those families / groups tickets. The rule – 1 tent or 1 container = 1 cooker. The problem is that some have 3 or 4 families in 1 small container, sometimes from different countries with different languages and cultures. It cant always be easy to share in this situation. I waited by the car and when someone came with a ticket, they got a cooker.

All worked well for 3/4 of the time, people were relieved and incredibly grateful to be given the ability to claw back a little independence.

But, then people came to the car without tickets, I took their tent/container number and sent them to the team inside. There were grumbles that the; African people/ Afghani people/ Arab people/ Iraqi people etc hadn’t been given cookers .. only the (this changed depending on who was speaking) people were receiving cookers. I understand this view, in a place like Vial how can you feel that that you are being treated fairly and equally.

More people came, so I quickly moved the car higher up the hill, past the camp. The last thing needed was to attract the attention of the police.

I returned the night before I was leaving with more cookers.. there were more problems of the same kind, this worried me. I do get concerned about the people who help volunteer groups and live in the camp. Concerned that they could maybe become targets for the building frustrations at the lack of provision for basic human needs. But they assure me I should not worry, with a smile and a shrug they tell me.. “it’s normal here, tomorrow will be the same “.

Today first thing I went to the prison with Ahmad .. the men here have done nothing wrong… no crime. but their asylum claims have been rejected twice so they are taken to prison were they stay in 1 room together for around 2 months.. …..to clarify .. People who are rejected for asylum in greece . It is not because they don’t have a valid case .. it’s because of a rotten deal between the EU and Turkey to deport people back to Turkey.. even though Turkey is not a safe place for refugees …

I was a little apprehensive as last time the police were angry, asking for my ID and told me to go away.

This time I needn’t have worried. The police were so great and supportive. They showed such kindness and humanity. With the funds I bought each man a phone card so they can phone their families, some playing cards, dice, coffee, sugar and biscuits.

The men looked exhausted and broken, but I hope these things gave a little lift of spirits.

To escape war and violence only to be locked up in Europe, I wonder what world we are creating.  They are not criminals, merely victims of the cruel and destructive EU/Turkey deal.

footnote: following this post Ahmad went to buy coffee at a local coffee shop and the Chief of Police came and said hi.  When Ahmad went to pay, the Chief insisted on paying for the coffee.  If you are not aware, this is a massive massive big deal .. an act like this has … The Ripple Effect….

#whereisthehumanity #vial #one love