Tonight will be my first night working in "Camp". Working 11p-7a. I arrived at 0435 today and it already feels like it's been days here. The group I am with are being responsible and resting up for the night ahead. After a few hours of almost sleeping, I decided to get up and see if I could watch the sunset from the docks. Here in Lakki (name of the city) on Leros Island, the shoreline of the harbor is clean, quiet and the sidewalk is dotted with various benches. It is not a beach town but it is beautiful. What I never realized when hearing about the Greek economy and the government going bankrupt (if that is technically what happened I do not know, it's just my understanding at this point) workers are not getting paid. Government workers, transportation workers, military, police .... I'm not sure how far reaching it goes, but what is usually considered "on Greek time", is much, much worse. There are so many empty store fronts, abandoned buildings. Skeleton in appearance, as I expect most island destinations look when winter comes, if the island is not in the tropics.
Walking on the sidewalk, or boardwalk as it is on the water, I see a boat being untied from one of the tie outs along the way. As I looked across the harbor I understood why it was not at the real dock. It was not a real boat compared to the monstrosity of a cargo boat was coming in to the "real dock". As I passed the little boat and I hear it get started up, I imagined how incredibly seasick I would be in that boat. Then the damn thing blew it's horn and I about stroked out from the fright it gave me. I've always been a bit jumpy anyway. This was a whole new level.
The big cargo boat was apparently parallel parking at the docks, and now that it had pulled around I saw the name of it "Vos Grace". I realized it's cargo would be the 400 refugees that were expected to come from the military island of Farmakinesae (I have not googled how to properly spell that). A far cry from the luxury Blue Star Ferry that I had taken from Athens. I took my pictures of the sunset that seemed to be rushing behind the two hillsides protecting the entrance to the harbor, when I notice a cat sniffing at my coffee cup that I sat on the ledge of some forgotten ledge to nowhere. Her 2 kittens peered out from behind the shelter of a forklift with a flat tire. Momma kitty had a sad, almost desperate cry as she followed me closer to the water. I know that this was probably just me projecting my desperation onto her. I feel so desperate to help. In this 30 minutes of walking to the dock and back to the sidewalk outside of Camp, nothing was really happening around the Vos. I sat down on some concrete thing that was not a bench and was not a tie out, but it made a good enough seat. I prayed. God had put the call into my heart to come here. He aligned the stars and those near to me to make this trip happen almost effortlessly. I just felt a little disconnected from that purpose at that moment. "Show me" was all I kept thinking. Show me why you brought me here.
The view of the part of the boat that the refugees were exiting from was mostly obstructed. Unfortunately, the long, single file line was forming towards the gates of the reception area. All different shapes and sizes. There was no luggage being pulled behind them like the 100's of people that got off the ferry with me. The light of the evening pressed down enough to show the general outline of the folks. Nothing more. The visual instantly made me think about those who had watched a similar situation. Instead of exiting a boat, they were entering a train. Instead of a refugee camp, a concentration camp. The irony that Germany figures into both situations did not escape me. I would tell you that the cool wind made my eyes water, but I would be lying.
The line of displaced souls stopped moving and so I decided to move along. I went back to one of the two places to eat in Lakki. It was named 7 Gates and it was the best wi-fi in town apparently. I sat down near a young woman who had a chunky cherub of a baby girl on her lap. The baby was happy as can be with her oatmeal yumminess. Extra cute was the little bit that formed a mustache. Is not it the case that babies make the best ice breakers and conversation starters? The little one's name was Chaplin (like Charlie, her mom said- also ironic that she had the same mustache as her namesake). Her Mom spoke English perfectly, with a hint of an accent. From Sweden, her and her husband had been on the island for 2 months. He worked for the United Nation's branch for Refugee aid. The Camp was built by this group.
As we talked, she said that the arrivals that just docked would make 400 for the day; the good weather encouraged the Greeks to do a mass exodus of the refugees off of Farmakinesae. The Camp accommodates 300 refugees, 350 tightly squeezed. I have in mind just how busy our night was going to be. I am not going to tell you Mom's name, as I did not ask permission. I know, I know. But I'm using her baby's name. It is what it is at the moment.
I mentioned the weather, as it is a good prediction of how many refugees show up and she added that any day without a shipwreck was a good day. My obvious question was "Does that happen very often?" You can imagine the unfortunate answer.
She began to tell me about the weeks of Christmas and New Years. "We lost many, many people. Most of them children."
My next obvious question was how did the ships wreck- and so a translation is needed here..ship = raft. Almost 100% were caused by the taking on of water. Whether by stormy seas or the appearance of a deadly hole in the raft, the results were equally horrifying.
The week of Christmas, there was a raft that sank. On arrival to camp. a young woman that had been rescued from the water befriended Mrs. UN, and shared her story. Mrs. UN can speak Arabic, so she gets a lot of attention. The Syrian woman, a mother of 4, was fleeing with her children, her mother, her husband and her brother-in-law. There were only so many life jackets but even that did not save her children, as the waves were too strong for their small frames. She was the only adult that survived. She was able to keep a hold of her youngest baby, just a month older than Chaplin. The young woman knew that her baby, in her arms, died about 4 hours before she was rescued. She had no one. There was no one left from her life. The conditions in Syria are so bad that this possibility, losing your family or even yourself, was a risk worth taking. The bodies of these fleeing lost souls were retrieved from the water. Or, as in Turkey just yesterday, the bodies wash up onto the shore (37 in this particular case).
Then, like a light bulb, it registered why I was here (one of the reasons anyway). I am here to write this tragedy into being, bringing it into a human form. Sharing the grief of the refugees, the volunteers and the Greek natives on this island.
I ask that you share this post. Every news clip and internet article I've read or watched has this political air to it. The reality could not be further from the truth. One million refugees fled in 2015. There are 2 million more trying to escape. These are families just like the ones we've all come from. So many are voiceless or silenced by whatever media agenda is the favorite of the day.
Fear of isis (I do not believe they deserve capital letters) and Islamic extremists attacking from their version of the Trojan Horse, is abundant in the US. The collapse of Europe has been suggested from one of my own family members. I'm of the opinion that it will not be the acceptance of refugees into the European nations, or even our own, that will cause mass destruction. It will be the refusal of them that will. Martin Luther King, Jr. said it best "You can not destroy hate with hate. Only love can do it."
Or better yet, Jesus Christ who said in John 13:34, A new command I give you: Love one another.
Walking on the sidewalk, or boardwalk as it is on the water, I see a boat being untied from one of the tie outs along the way. As I looked across the harbor I understood why it was not at the real dock. It was not a real boat compared to the monstrosity of a cargo boat was coming in to the "real dock". As I passed the little boat and I hear it get started up, I imagined how incredibly seasick I would be in that boat. Then the damn thing blew it's horn and I about stroked out from the fright it gave me. I've always been a bit jumpy anyway. This was a whole new level.
The big cargo boat was apparently parallel parking at the docks, and now that it had pulled around I saw the name of it "Vos Grace". I realized it's cargo would be the 400 refugees that were expected to come from the military island of Farmakinesae (I have not googled how to properly spell that). A far cry from the luxury Blue Star Ferry that I had taken from Athens. I took my pictures of the sunset that seemed to be rushing behind the two hillsides protecting the entrance to the harbor, when I notice a cat sniffing at my coffee cup that I sat on the ledge of some forgotten ledge to nowhere. Her 2 kittens peered out from behind the shelter of a forklift with a flat tire. Momma kitty had a sad, almost desperate cry as she followed me closer to the water. I know that this was probably just me projecting my desperation onto her. I feel so desperate to help. In this 30 minutes of walking to the dock and back to the sidewalk outside of Camp, nothing was really happening around the Vos. I sat down on some concrete thing that was not a bench and was not a tie out, but it made a good enough seat. I prayed. God had put the call into my heart to come here. He aligned the stars and those near to me to make this trip happen almost effortlessly. I just felt a little disconnected from that purpose at that moment. "Show me" was all I kept thinking. Show me why you brought me here.
The view of the part of the boat that the refugees were exiting from was mostly obstructed. Unfortunately, the long, single file line was forming towards the gates of the reception area. All different shapes and sizes. There was no luggage being pulled behind them like the 100's of people that got off the ferry with me. The light of the evening pressed down enough to show the general outline of the folks. Nothing more. The visual instantly made me think about those who had watched a similar situation. Instead of exiting a boat, they were entering a train. Instead of a refugee camp, a concentration camp. The irony that Germany figures into both situations did not escape me. I would tell you that the cool wind made my eyes water, but I would be lying.
The line of displaced souls stopped moving and so I decided to move along. I went back to one of the two places to eat in Lakki. It was named 7 Gates and it was the best wi-fi in town apparently. I sat down near a young woman who had a chunky cherub of a baby girl on her lap. The baby was happy as can be with her oatmeal yumminess. Extra cute was the little bit that formed a mustache. Is not it the case that babies make the best ice breakers and conversation starters? The little one's name was Chaplin (like Charlie, her mom said- also ironic that she had the same mustache as her namesake). Her Mom spoke English perfectly, with a hint of an accent. From Sweden, her and her husband had been on the island for 2 months. He worked for the United Nation's branch for Refugee aid. The Camp was built by this group.
As we talked, she said that the arrivals that just docked would make 400 for the day; the good weather encouraged the Greeks to do a mass exodus of the refugees off of Farmakinesae. The Camp accommodates 300 refugees, 350 tightly squeezed. I have in mind just how busy our night was going to be. I am not going to tell you Mom's name, as I did not ask permission. I know, I know. But I'm using her baby's name. It is what it is at the moment.
I mentioned the weather, as it is a good prediction of how many refugees show up and she added that any day without a shipwreck was a good day. My obvious question was "Does that happen very often?" You can imagine the unfortunate answer.
She began to tell me about the weeks of Christmas and New Years. "We lost many, many people. Most of them children."
My next obvious question was how did the ships wreck- and so a translation is needed here..ship = raft. Almost 100% were caused by the taking on of water. Whether by stormy seas or the appearance of a deadly hole in the raft, the results were equally horrifying.
The week of Christmas, there was a raft that sank. On arrival to camp. a young woman that had been rescued from the water befriended Mrs. UN, and shared her story. Mrs. UN can speak Arabic, so she gets a lot of attention. The Syrian woman, a mother of 4, was fleeing with her children, her mother, her husband and her brother-in-law. There were only so many life jackets but even that did not save her children, as the waves were too strong for their small frames. She was the only adult that survived. She was able to keep a hold of her youngest baby, just a month older than Chaplin. The young woman knew that her baby, in her arms, died about 4 hours before she was rescued. She had no one. There was no one left from her life. The conditions in Syria are so bad that this possibility, losing your family or even yourself, was a risk worth taking. The bodies of these fleeing lost souls were retrieved from the water. Or, as in Turkey just yesterday, the bodies wash up onto the shore (37 in this particular case).
Then, like a light bulb, it registered why I was here (one of the reasons anyway). I am here to write this tragedy into being, bringing it into a human form. Sharing the grief of the refugees, the volunteers and the Greek natives on this island.
I ask that you share this post. Every news clip and internet article I've read or watched has this political air to it. The reality could not be further from the truth. One million refugees fled in 2015. There are 2 million more trying to escape. These are families just like the ones we've all come from. So many are voiceless or silenced by whatever media agenda is the favorite of the day.
Fear of isis (I do not believe they deserve capital letters) and Islamic extremists attacking from their version of the Trojan Horse, is abundant in the US. The collapse of Europe has been suggested from one of my own family members. I'm of the opinion that it will not be the acceptance of refugees into the European nations, or even our own, that will cause mass destruction. It will be the refusal of them that will. Martin Luther King, Jr. said it best "You can not destroy hate with hate. Only love can do it."
Or better yet, Jesus Christ who said in John 13:34, A new command I give you: Love one another.
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