Solidarity for refugees

Hello Europe, I am more than a number. 

I realise that I have not written or spoken much about visiting Chios in November last year.  The island and the people there had a profound affect on me, one which will stay with me for ever, however, it has on occasion been difficult to express feelings generated during my time there.

This post is about a family I met very briefly, by chance on a morning in Vial camp.   I met them only for minutes but I will never forget them.  I regularly wonder where they are now, along with a gnawing, nagging feeling that I didn’t do anywhere near enough to help them.

I was on camp with ‘The Pirates’ (Chios brothers who have dedicated their lives to helping refugees on Chios).  We were picking up a woman and her 5 children, to take them to the warehouse to get some provisions.  She and her children were alone on camp and had virtually no winter clothes or sufficient blankets for the coming winter.

A man of around 35 years of age came to me and pleaded with me to come with him.  He said his wife was sick and could I help.  I told him that I was only a volunteer, not a doctor or official, but I would come to meet his wife.   How can you refuse in such a situation, I could tell the man was agitated and desperate.

This is where the family were living with their 2 children.

It was clear that the woman was heavily pregnant, between 7 and 8 months.  Her husband showed me documents from the hospital where they had been the previous day.  Looking at the medical history, she tended to give birth early, and tragically a few years ago they lost twins at 5 days old.  He pointed out his wife’s swollen ankles, and gestured to where she was sleeping, on the floor in the corner of a makeshift tent.

He told me there were insects and snakes and showed me pictures.  I asked him if they needed any blankets, sleeping bags, clothes or things for the children.  He looked at me and said, there was nothing they needed apart from to get off camp and into an apartment.  They had been there a few weeks and he was terrified they would lose their baby.

All refugees are registered as soon they get on the island, they are given a unique number to be identified by.  I told the man that I would take his ‘case number’ and see what I could do, but I absolutely couldn’t promise anything.  I asked him once again if there was anything they needed, hoping there was something within my control I could do to help.  He shook his head, they needed to get out of the camp as soon as possible he said.

I approached an amazing lady from Chios, and asked what the options were for this vulnerable family.  She told me categorically that this situation was common in Vial, vulnerable people were often left there in terrible conditions, when they should be moved.  This was one family of many.  She did not hold out much hope, but contacted UNHCR with the case number, asking if they could be moved.  UNHCR said they would look into it, but not to expect anything anytime soon (or words to that affect).

I tried to find a charity which could help find accommodation.  I investigated whether if I fundraised enough we could pay for an apartment until UNHCR got their act together.  But from England, with limited resources, I was unable to provide any help.

A couple of weeks later, a volunteer friend of mine arrived on the island.  I asked her to look for the family, and gave her the details of where to find them on camp.  She found them, still in the same situation and asked as I had done if they needed anything.  The man shook his head, no he just needed to get off the camp with his pregnant wife and 2 young children.

They escaped war, travelled through dangerous countries, crossed an unpredictable sea in inflatable dinghy to seek refuge in Europe.  They aren’t numbers, they aren’t case numbers they are brother, sisters, mother, fathers and beloved children.

#think

Crossroads … creating permanent life changes 

Photographs can envoke feelings of a particular time and place along with emotions and feelings. Can almost bring you back to the day if was taken. 

 If I look at photographs of me “pre-awareness” of the humanitarian crisis in Europe, quite simply I am a different person.  It’s the same as if I look at a photo taken pre-arrival of kids.  The change is really this stark and real. 

The arrival of my first child changed me so fundamentally, (as of course it should). My thoughts and attention were focused almost entirely on my new baby, to the point of almost losing myself as an individual.  Of course, many parents feel consumed and overwhelmed after the arrival of a new addition to the family, this is not unusual.

Becoming a parent changed my priorities in life, changed my outlook on the world.  No longer was my career, my social life, or the latest fashion a focus in my life – my priorities seismically shifted overnight,  I was ready for and pleased for the change.

I remember the day I saw the photograph of Aylan Kurdi washed up on a Lesvos beach.  I turned to my husband and asked him how bad things would have to get before we actually made a stand… before I ‘got off my arse and did something’.  I had often wondered about how ‘the masses’ behaved during the holocaust and I wondered what I would do.  I never thought it would be relevant to me. I was naive.  I could never have imagined that Europe (I still include the UK) would so readily dismiss human rights laws and purposefully inflict suffering on innocent people fleeing war.  Since Aylans tragic death many thousands more have drowned in the seas around Europe.. 

I quickly joined many solidarity groups on Facebook, reading posts from volunteers on Lesvos.  I read about drownings on a daily basis, fake life jackets, hypothermia, horrific camps .. my eyes were opened.  I can remember those intense feelings as if they were yesterday.  

Friends and family know I have been ‘damaged psychologically’ over the last couple of years and they naturally worry about this .. some simply can’t understand why I don’t ‘stop’  .. the mind is a complicated business.  

I have made many mistakes and errors in judgement… However, I would not go back to that crossroads in 2015 and take a different, easier on my mind, less rocky path.  So much of me has been fundamentally changed over the last couple of years, and I welcome the change.  Just like motherhood is incredibly challenging and sometimes hurts you to your core ..  it is also rewarding and worthwhile… and a part of who you are .. solidarity, love and striving for equality is as much a part of me as motherhood .. I can’t ‘stop’ , I can’t go back and fundamentally I don’t want to.. 

People to people solidarity ❤

It has been many months since I last posted anything, this was written in the airport as I left Chios a few weeks ago..

I have shared; a house, my life and heart in Chios with a group of amazing young people.

Not much older than my eldest son, they are; kind, wise, full of life and incredibly beautiful both inside and out.. Today I leave Chios, I feel I have known the people I have met here all my life – it’s the way.

I had a big send off at the tiny airport, and my head is swimming.  Its insane that because I have a British passport I am privileged to travel pretty much where I like.  Yet my friends  (family) as they wave me off we all know they are not afforded such a privilege.. they are trapped on Chios waiting for some authority or other to decide whether they can have a safe future in Europe. . Really, who has the right to decide ?

To decide whether a family should be deported to an unstable country . To decide whether a wife can join her husband . To decide whether a pregnant woman remains under a tarpaulin for shelter or deserves to be transferred to an apartment … I wonder what training you need to be qualified to make these decisions ?

The violence seems to be escalating, propaganda is so rife in our scary world.  Its hard (actually impossible) to get to the truth when so many powerful groups are willing to grossly twist reality by promoting and exaggerating some news stories and hiding or downplaying other items of news – or downright lying of course.

But actually, I don’t sweat anymore about; whose bomb it was, whose chemical attack it was, which insurgent group it was .. maybe that’s wrong… maybe I should… I guess I sweat more about the results of these attributes .. my attitude does not mean I don’t care whats happening in our world and its people – its totally the opposite.  I kind of stick to what I know is true to make my opinions and drive my behaviour

I know the UK and the US benefit financially from wars across the globe, selling weapons and chemicals to regimes they know are likely to use them in contravention of a raft of International Laws designed to protect civilian populations.

I know the vast majority of Governments prefer to lead a divided population and actively encourage this.  Us humans are the same – its just that any differences are used by those in power to create fear in order to divide and rule.  I love the fact we are all different, I love to hear different languages and hear of different cultures .. I know that these differences are to be welcomed not feared.

I know that the number of people forced to leave their homes in terror and suffering due to the actions of fellow humans has grown exponentially over the last few years.  I know that if this happened to me and my family – I would think that my plight would be met with understanding and  compassion from my fellow humans.  I know that this compassion is unlikely to come from those with real power, those in Government/ the corporate world.  I know that it will instead come from a wide range of people ‘normal’ people who refuse to give up on compassion and humanity – a bottle of water, a dry pair of socks, a coat, an energy bar….

I know that I don’t want walls, fences, borders and barriers to keep me apart from my fellow humans, especially when they need help – a lifeline

I know that we do not inherit this world from our parents, we borrow it from out children – I mean thats inarguable.  Kids are beacons of light.  I watched my 8 year old playing with his friend at the weekend, we were walking out in the countryside.  They were playing an; intense, creative, imaginative game involving arm loads of sticks.  This game went on for a couple of hours, both so involved and engaged, having so much fun.  I do believe the experience will be one they will remember into adulthood.  It was a complete pleasure to be part of it, I still smile when I think of them that day.

This peace and joy in childhood should not be a privilege gifted to only children born in a certain country, to a certain social class, but, it is becoming increasingly so.  I think of; families climbing into rickety boats, mothers reassuring their children it will all be OK, children separated from their families – trafficked for sex or body parts, families eating grass and insects to survive…the list is too long to continue

We seem to live in a never ending dystopian novel.

However, there is a crack in everything – that’s how the light gets in.  There are cracks everywhere; when overnight groups across the UK mobilise to provide emergency food, water, shelter for displaced families in Dunkirk, the beautiful Syrian lady living a muddy field showing an English lady how to wear a headscarf – laughing and sharing a meal, the children who give up their pocket money to help provide food for the homeless, a young lady standing up to an EDL member – with a self assured dignity.  There are some many examples of light breaking through and its a good job as this is what keeps me sane(ish)

I can’t run no more
with that lawless crowd
while the killers in high places
say their prayers out loud.
But they’ve summoned, they’ve summoned up
a thundercloud
and they’re going to hear from me.

One Love

Food for the Soul, Hope for the Heart 

Today I leave the Soul Food Kitchen, so sad to say goodbye and yet looking forward to seeing my family. The humanity of the people I have worked with is quite staggering, but one person I have met really stands out as a special individual. Petra is a petit, beautiful woman from Austria – she is only 22 and yet is already incredibly strong, driven and capable. She doesn’t see this of cause, she is modest and not particularly fond of any light being shined upon her, happy to work in the background, not needing any limelight to keep motivated.

If Pixi is an unpredictable, hard to stop, stormy sea then Petra is a clear, deep, blue, calm lake. She works like an unstoppable machine in the kitchen, planning meals with imagination and care. Always minimising waste and always prepared to work even harder in order to make an even better meal for the homeless refugees and locals in Thessaloniki. She takes control in the kitchen, working with determination and passion, directing volunteers, yet always ready to listen to ideas and suggestions.

It is so clear to me that Petra could be very successful at anything she wanted to do, she is intelligent, resourceful and self-motivated. Yet, she has chosen, like many others I have met, to give a significant portion of her life to unpaid work, helping the increasing numbers of displaced people on our planet.

Her calmness when faced with difficulties or stresses is a talent which is very useful in her line of work, but occasionally you see a glimpse of her fears and worries. These thoughts are delivered with a smile and laugh though, never in anger or with venom.

She is also leaving today, to go to Austria for a short time. You can see Pixi is incredibly sad about losing Petra, even for a short time. But it is highly likely that she will return very soon, the cause is in her blood.

She spent her last night in Greece, at the Soul Food Kitchen, chatting with a few of us after work, drinking a little beer and writing the meal plans for the kitchen for the next couple of days. She told me that she wouldn’t be able to sleep properly if she didn’t make these plans for the food which has been given over the last couple of days.

You can see why I am sad to leave, young people like Petra give me huge hope for the future, and hope is something I crave like a drug.

Good bye Soul Food Kitchen, Good Bye Pixi and Petra, no doubt we will meet again soon,

One Love

Every trip is different but the same .. I meet life long friends, people with huge hearts and compassion. People who put their lives on hold to fill the gap that those in power leave .. I feel I/we are doing something to help but it never feels enough, a sticking plaster on a deep wound in our society.. I feel a burning unease at our world . My emotions are so strong and so mixed, they ebb and flow through me without directiom. I am tired and at the same time so full of energy .. always different and always the same. 

My time here is short, this is because of my other responsibilities back home, my life, my husband, my children, my work. I have choices, I am lucky. 

So with only a short time I know I need to work hard and use experiences and knowledge I have to the best of my ability. Those who know me, know this will probably mean looking into drains and gravitating towards waste .. yes I glamorous to the core. 

I was happy today that I managed to get the drainage from the kitchen working.  We had been without this since I arrived and it’s been haunting me.  I am not sure for how long it will work . But for now, we have a free flowing drain. 

Yes so .. waste is in my blood and skin ..I might as well make the most of it .

One love 💖

Yesterday I went with Pixi to buy supplies. He sources the vegetables from a local farmer so that money goes back into the Greek economy. The farmer has a shop in a small village and always gives as good a price as he can , along with some extra treats such as homemade Jan and marmalade.  

Of course the quality of the vegetables is extremely good .. It is the mantra of the Soul Food Kitchen to provide a good balance of foods packed with nutrition .. Also every penny is spent with care, money never wasted  

As the weather gets better in Greece it is expected that more people will come.  It is a stopping place on the way through into Western Europe.. One man tried 12 times to cross the border into FYROM.

Yesterday on the menu was homemade humus with peppers and flat bread / fresh fruit with tart for lunch and pasta with Ali Oli and salad for tea.  Fantastic, tasty and nutritional.

I went on distribution yesterday .. There are many people living in an abandoned, derelict building in the centre of thessaloniki .. The conditions here are heart breaking .. There are a few tents, but you can see where people are sleeping outside in sleeping bags.  

Next stop was the park, where so many people came for food that we ran out.  Here there was a mix of nationalities including Greek people .. The Soul Food Kitchen aims to feed all who need food .. We told those who missed out at lunch that we would be back in the evening with food and made sure we made plenty so no one was left hungry.  

Yesterday we received boxes and boxes of spinach which were left over from another distribution.  Again the quality of the food was fantastic, deep green leaves and fresh from the ground ..

Some donor money was spent on vegetables which will be cooked today .. again I am very thankful that I know compassionate people who provide support .. 

People to people solidarity 💖💖

Soul Food Kitchen

Today was my first day working at the Soul Food Kitchen in Thessaloniki.  As ever, I feel like I have been here weeks already, maybe that’s just how it is in this line of work.

Today I spent the day helping to prepare 2 hot meals (one for lunch, one evening meal) for the homeless refugees in the city, under the watchful eye of Pixi.  Pixi is a charismatic, whirlwind of a man from Bosnia.  You can see in him a huge amount of compassion and drive, but also, like all permanent volunteers I have met – you can sense that he has witnessed too much in his life.  He has been working since 2015 with the ‘refugee crisis’ and has been with it as it has morphed, changing tact to help where the need is most.

The Soul Food Kitchen is well run, with an emphasis on providing healthy, home cooked food made from local sources.  The volunteers generally eat what they have cooked that day, and I have to say that so far its been delicious.  Today on the menu was; Kurdish Rice with vegetables and a fruit salad for lunch and mash potato/carrot and spicy spinach for evening meal – always delivered with chai and water.

Tomorrow I will go shopping with Pixi to buy supplies – using the money given by my amazing donors.  I am so very lucky to have so much support, it makes you much more effective if you can help financially – Pixi is down to about 20 euros, but he is unconcerned because he knows some money will come.  He also manages to run the operation very cost effectively, at around 50p per full meal, and lives in a plywood ‘shed’ at the warehouse meaning his costs are minimal, he says he needs very little – and he means it.

What I love about this work, is seeing how fantastically people work together and it just works so well. People from all backgrounds and cultures collaborate, sharing knowledge, experiences and skills.  Everyone is ready to work hard and do whatever they can to help and everyone is respected and welcomed. This is the way the world should work, with equality and solidarity at its core.

More tomorrow – for now – sleep

The words from my 8 year old last night .. He asks questions like this quite regularly. You see he can’t understand why there are such massive inequalities in our world, it makes no sense to him. 

Actually most children around his age think in this way .. A simple, yet superior way of thinking when compared to the adult view of the world. We can all walk past homeless people, turn our head away from extreme suffering .. its our way of coping .. to build up defenses and walls to protect ourself . 

Now as I make the journey back to Greece, again I am struck yet again by how privileged I am . I have a passport and some money and a place to stay and a family/home/job to return  to in a few days .. 

I know people much younger than me (children really) who have left their families to make a perilous journey to a country where they don’t speak the language, have no place to live, know nobody, have little money and crucially have given up their ability of real choice .. A trade off in a bid to escape war. ..  and yet my friends and family still tell me to be careful and worry about me when I am away.. its a strange messed up world . 

My 8 year old wanted me to give him a kiss this morning even though I was leaving very early.  He sleepily held my hand and mumbled ” bye mummy”. Turned over in his comfy bed to get another hours sleep.  

I think of my other sons . My eldest in university and my middle son doing A Levels . Studying, having fun with the world at their feet, yet I still worry about them . At 19 and 17 they are still children to me, their mother . . . I feel a mix of relief at our privilege and unease at the inequality.  I think of Ramadan, a young Syrian boy I know, around the age of my sons. He travelled alone, faced danger and much suffering. Yet he retained his dignity, humor, compassion, love for his fellow humans and hope that his life will work out . His attitude brings me to tears on a regular basis ..and  I am not sure why .. because even with the mountains he has to climb .. I know his attitude to life means he will find happiness. 

Tomorrow I will be working cooking food for displaced people in Northern Greece..many people have donated money to help, to show solidarity ..  its a small thing we do .. but it’s a thing nevertheless .. 

💖💖💖💖

As 2016 draws to a close, I am still not sure how I feel about it…

This year, probably more than any in my life, I have exercised  my freedom of choice in ways I never really thought possible.  Its ironic as it is also the year that awareness exploded into my consciousness that this freedom of choice is precious, rare and endangered.

Last day at work

Off to Lesvos

Moria camp

It is a year with so many memories burnt into my mind, a year with memories that I will never forget and will not fade with time.  A year that seems much longer than only 12 months.  There aren’t many years like that, they usually fly past without you noticing they have come or gone.

I wont be celebrating New Year this year, in some ways I am relieved as I am not sure quite how I feel about this year yet.  I have not yet processed its ups, downs and madness of it. This is not however why I am not celebrating it, I have flu (or similar), otherwise I would probably try to forget reality for one more night and sing ‘Don’t Worry be Happy’ at the Karaoke in the local pub after a few glasses of wine.

As many do, I wonder what I have achieved this year, the first year in 25 years that (out of choice) I haven’t been in paid, regular employment.  The year I have had time to think, research and grow, the year I supposedly jumped off the treadmill.  I know I have tried so very hard to help build bridges, spread awareness and show solidarity with people displaced from their homes. I know I have made so very many mistakes in this process, and I know I could/should have done so much more.

A beautiful lady I met in Idomeni

Talk with Beaver Scouts

Now as I look through my facebook feed and see the suffering of displaced people trapped in and around Europe, watch the barbaric atrocities being committed in Syria and Yemen (among others) I feel frustrated and powerless, when will it stop or at the very least, when will the decline start to reverse.

This year I have met or become acquainted with so many people of which I am in complete awe and hold the utmost respect for.  Some who have fled war and been forced to live in refugee camps.  The people I met have among them people who are far more; intelligent, harder working,  kind, resilient, resourceful, skillful, funny….. etc than me or many of my British colleagues.  Yet they have had their lives turned upside down by war, politics and the fight for power, their freedom of choice and security has been taken from them, they are in limbo.

No longer can they choose which way their lives or the lives of their family will go.  They are in the hands of politicians who will decide; whether they are allowed into the country, where they will live, whether they can work or study and how much they need to survive each week.  These are the ‘lucky’ ones.

I look to 2017 with trepidation and fear mixed with not insignificant scatterings of hope.  I have seen such incredible depths of human kindness and compassion over the last 12 months.  Crossing (so called) ‘barriers’ of; language, race, religion and gender. Friends and family have stood shoulder to shoulder, speaking out against racism and inequality.

The ‘barriers’ thrown up to divide us are used by Politicians, the Media and other Groups are for their own gains and agendas – a divided and fearful population is much easier to control than a united one.

This year, I will continue to protest, speak out, pressure MPs, organise collections and fund raise. I also hope to visit some friends displaced from their homes and scattered around Europe.  Its not a lot but its something, doing nothing is inconceivable.

Happy New Year peeps XX

“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men and women to do nothing.”
― Edmund Burke