My time on Lesvos is over, and I'm headed home. For those who haven't hidden me or aren't scrolling by all my reports, I'm going to try to wrap up my experience in the refugee camp on Lesvos in one final post. In reality my thoughts are really scattered, and I'm of two minds wanting to share how the experience impacted me on a personal level and my views on the refugees and what I witnessed on Lesvos. Is this a diary or a report? I guess the two are inextricably linked (a lesson in unbiased reporting: it's impossible).
I am forever changed by my time here. Working first hand in the camp at Moria has transformed third person references to highly personal first person passions. It's not a matter of the "theys" or "thems" any longer. And that completely alters your point of reference, transforming knowledge of things into personal emotional connections. I knew about the refugees and what they were facing by reading articles, and even talking to others serving in a similar capacity. But it wasn't until I looked into the faces of those who have seen death, dragging wet and heavy into camp with deep despair in their eyes that I understood with my heart. So here's what I know and hope people will understand more than anything else I have to share . . . we are all the same, and we are all in this life together. Fear cannot be the captain of our love. There are around a million people (I actually kind of want to stop using the word "refugees") seeking refuge from a hell most of us will never encounter. Let us all show love and compassion to them along their journey. Let's let them in. This world is "sharing size."
The refugee situation in Lesvos is not really what I had expected. I think that's mostly because there is no way to understand it without seeing it first hand. I wasn't able to connect the dots of all the things I had read and all the personal accounts shared from others before me until I saw for myself. The way things work in a situation like this, and by "situation" I mean an ever changing flow of thousands of refugees with severe needs arriving daily, is very fluid. There have been about 450,000 refugees pass through Lesvos so far. In the beginning the aid given was much more scattered and less organised. Random people turning up. The government via the police has taken charge, but there are countless humanitarian agencies working on the island and then still some random people turning up as well. And different groups are helping with different stages. There are shoreside camps set up by some aid groups specifically designed to help those coming straight out of the water, there's the registration camp at Moria (where I spent most of my time), and other interim camps. These are all run by various organisations and individuals working alongside one another under the thumb of the police. With so many groups and individual volunteers coming and going coupled with the domination of the police, it's a very dysfunctional puzzle. Lots of wonderful people doing wonderful things, but it's extremely disorganised in certain areas, a difficult environment to work in. This is especially true of the camp at Moria. Moria was really designed to be a registration centre if you will, but with the demand of days' long queues to register it's accidentally become a camp itself. It's a mess. It's a dreary place created at a detention centre that spills out onto to the surrounding miserable, muddy, rocky landscape. In other words it's not a place you really want to spend a lot of time in. The camp's main objective is registering all the refugees with documents so they can pass through to Athens and onwards. But people get stuck here, long queues and a myriad of other issues keeps some here for days. So there are various organisations there set up to help with specific needs (medical, children, food, clothes, etc.). A lot of moving parts. The independent volunteers (like me) slot in where needed, anything from translating, queue management, clothing distribution, food service, etc. But in reality it's so much more than that. Playing games with kids in the queues, making people laugh, listening to stories in broken English, a smile of reassurance, holding babies, and so many apologies for all that we cannot do and for the hell they have been through.
One last thing to share. We took a couple hours on our last afternoon when camp was quiet to have a breather and wander one of the beautiful harbour fronts we only ever pass through. Here we saw several refugee families. Some were sitting on the harbour enjoying a decidedly better view than nearby Moria camp could ever offer. Some were playing games. Some were having a stroll. And all were waiting for the ferry for the next leg of their yet long journey. We recognised many of them from our days working at camp. We'd say hello and share a parting smile. Seeing them out of the context of the camp helped me gain greater perspective. They belong there. They belong in the world. I hope and pray they find their place, and that they will have brighter days along another harbour somewhere else far away from the hell they've suffered.
So many other things I want to share. As with the other posts, I'm including some interesting (some surprising) anecdotes of life at Moria with many of the photos posted here. #IWasAStranger
An amazing group of women, so honoured to have shared these few days serving beside them
Melena, Anna and Hayley
Gorgeous Mitilini Harbour
An ancient viaduct right next to Moria camp
Finally went to take a look at the castle thingy way above Molyvos
Fitting farewell at Friends, goodbye Lesvos
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