As Bad as it Seems

27 hours later and I’m in Polykastos and just past to the little town Goumenissa, where we are staying. Just before we get here, we pass the EKO gas station where our humanitarian tent is set up - we are not at the huge camp - there’s a few hundred people here and as we don’t yet have the capacity, we are assisting in the smaller camp.

I meet the team of Nurture Project International and we are in a meeting - with pizza! We’re a group of 8 and about to do some training when the landlord has a problem. Too many people staying here - It’s 2 good size apartments but apparently they are concerned about the number sleeping in the rooms. We try to explain that there are only 5 in the 2 apartments but it’s not going over well, and there is a lot of high velocity Greek vernacular unleashed. An hour later there is a scotch tape sign on our doors decrying only 2 people per apartment. Needless to say, the meeting was not a success and we are now searching for new apartments to accommodate the ebb and flow of volunteers we’ll be having in and out over the next months. Apparently there is a new crisis daily with the landlords, far too stressful for our crew to contend with along with long hard days assisting refugees. This is a new NGO and we are figuring it out together. The primary objective is to assist in maternal health, and breastfeeding and lactation assistance. There are many tiny babies here and pregnant women and all in need of health help.

Today we’re up and off to a meeting at the big Idomeni camp - approximately 12,000 refugees spread out over a vast area on the border where you can easily see the fences topped with razor sharp barb wire. The Macedonian border is without a doubt, closed. The other thing that first strikes you is all the journalists, trucks, cameras - earnest people interviewing anyone and everyone. This entry to the camp has an air of theatre and spectacle but reality is stark just past this fray, where a long line of people are queueing in a food line. We meet with UN coordinator, Samaritans Purse, Praxis, Save the Children, MSF, Caritas, Red Cross and all the big orgs where the bulk of the meeting centers on food distribution, wastages because of rejected food, distribution of NFIs and how one group is passing out 4,000 hot meals a day. They are passing out foodstuffs as well so some can do their own cooking - but this is not the solution - they don’t want communal kitchens and pop up restaurants and economic ventures in the equation. Some things are working - some are working well - some are not working well at all. It’s just so BIG. We are new here - but really needed - a baby was born on the railroad tracks 2 nights ago and we see this tiny baby as we pass by being passed around by proud people. Maternal health isn’t  adequately addressed and while we’d like to have 4 tents in the big camp, it’s too early. We have to make sure our systems work well in the smaller camps to that when we do set up there, the bugs have been worked out. It was a passionate and productive meeting and somewhat overwhelming in the scope of issues that are arising.

It’s sunny today, though and people are strolling with their families and smiling and saying hello and the kids trail after us around the camp. I am struck by the resourcefulness of these people, it’s a community - there are little stands selling cigarettes and fruit and sweets that they’ve cobbled together. Self determination arises from even the worst circumstances. The smoke from the fires they seem to all have burning is choking me and as we walk back to the car, men are dragging trees for wood to their little patch of Idomeni.

It’s full days, full on and the afternoon was spent helping a mother whose baby has had dioerrhea for 3 days - she’s so upset and I nearly cry. I think that’s going to happen a lot. We give her some milk formula and rehydration salts. Next to us is a tent full of kids playing games and having a grand old time with the volunteers and there’s soccer in the parking lot. So mch to take in on a hot jetlagged day.

It’s late and I’m pooped and there will be more tomorrow and it will not be boring and I’m glad I’m here - there are good things to be done. Everyone who’s ever volunteered here doesn’t want to leave, wants to come back and has a big full heart of love for this historical migration.

Excuse the look of this entry. It's a Greece internet issue. 

Easter Sunday Almost Gone

It's spring and the tulips are peeking out of their little green coats and the forest is lush with moss and baby blossoms and wild daffodils dot the spare spaces. Peace is so quiet and rare.

I sat on my warm cozy bed today with the cat, watching the sun streaming through the window and thought about what's in front of me and how bloody lucky I am to have a bed and a cat and a window.

I'm trying to switch my brain over to airports and landings in strange lands and the despair of  the people I'm going to work with who once had windows and cats and comfort. Cultural differences and geography are incidental to the human desire for comfort and security, and I simply cannot imagine losing everything including my country. So, in short days, I will come to know who these people are and what I can do to provide some small service to comfort at Idomeni.

I've collected an awful lot of donations and am carrying 2 massive bags of soap, shampoo, hand sanitiser, toothbrushes / toothpaste, baby clothes, diapers,  underwear, sanitary pads, socks and countless other items for mamas and babies at the camp. I'm about 5 lbs overweight on each bag and hoping that Air Canada has a heart underneath that maple leaf. If not,  I'll either have to offload some stuff at the check in counter or cough up a hundred bucks I don't have to spare. I'll figure it out tomorrow. For today, I'm taking in my blessed, privileged existence and snuggling down with Mokey cat for my last homey night.

I'm tired from all the preparations - it's not the kind of trip I've done for a while now, and the packing details and considerations don't conjure holiday happy, bouncy feelings. People ask me if I'm excited yet, and I'm not. I'm really not excited to head to the camps where organised human rights groups like MSF and UNHCR are throwing their hands in the air because of the inhumane detention of refugees. I'm not excited. I feel trepidation. I feel a bit nervous. But I also feel hopeful because there's lots of people where I'm going that feel like I do - that we need to help in any way we are equipped, and we can witness, and we can engage our friends and family and community in action oriented advocacy.

Me and the cat have to say our farewells tonight. He knows something's up - they always do. I'm on a 6:45am flight so I wish you all a Happy, blessed, privileged and comfortable Easter. 

Preparation and Confusion

Like many of you, I've been watching the unfolding refugee crisis across Europe with horror and sadness, and a gut wrenching sense of futility. I ask, what can I do? Well, I have some useful skills, a whole lot of Aeroplan points, a backpack, an education in global development, experience in the field, and a willing heart, so yes, I'm going there. 

The situation has only grown more dire since I first committed to go, with people living and sleeping in wet tents in fields of mud and grime. Volunteers on the ground report that through the night they hear children coughing and hacking and crying and moaning. Physically and psychologically, it's a hellish existence with no clear resolution in sight. Yesterday a 27 year old pregnant woman, her 17 year old sister, and a cousin drowned trying to cross a river to cross the border. One wonders at the desperation to cross a border knowing you'll probably be sent back to the mud. Regardless of your politics, it's a shameful and dehumanising response from the organized international community. It's only the volunteers, and humanitarian orgs who are offering some small hope, and that is why we're going. 

It's a daunting exercise to prepare for this journey. It's not like any other I've done. The information coming out of Greece daily is a shifting sandbar. I've subscribed to all the refugee links on Facebook (which by the way, is the platform of choice for the many, many volunteer orgs in the field) who are all in flux. I'm overwhelmed with decisions - Lesvos, where I'm registered to volunteer with Better Days for Moria, has slowed down for now, although there are many in their camp, it's not calling with urgency as is Idomeni on the Macedonia border. I am now waiting to hear from another organization who have indicated they would like me to come to them: Nurture Project International, who provide lactation and infant feeding support to mothers and babies experiencing crisis. I like this org, and I can't think of a better cause than supporting women and babies. It remains to be seen though, where I'll be, as things change daily. 

By no stretch do I imagine anyone is waiting for me, I'm just one of many hundreds of global activists who are booking tickets, driving trucks, taking boats and offering hands and hearts. There's no lack of information, too much in fact, but I've made contact with other volunteers and I have faith I'll find myself just exactly where I'm supposed to be. I might not have a room booked, or know precisely where / what I'm supposed to do when I get there - but I have a home. A nice home, warmth, food, friends, community, safety and security to come back to. The people I'm going to assist have only their memories of home, and hope for  one to come.

I'm really touched by those of you who have sent me funds for my donations. Angels, all of you, and in no small part, you're all coming with me. Next week I'll be off on a shop for supplies for women's sanitary care packs. A friend and I will be packing ziplocs with underwear, socks, sanitary pads, soap, toothpaste, toothbrushes and various other sundries for the women in the camps. It's a small thing, but needed, and I thank you all for helping me make a contribution on arrival. 

So, that's my first blog post. I'm still accepting donations if you want to private message me through Facebook, and I have to admit that I'm more nervous than excited at this point. That's life though isn't it?