Here’s my ‘do what you can’ story for the weekend. Symi had over 400 refugees arrive over Friday/Saturday, in fact we saw a boat being brought in. A small inflatable packed with people, one of whom fell out, out at sea, but the coastguard were there and helped him ashore. The boat was brought to the clock tower where the already arrived refuges gave a cheer to welcome the others to safety. This was as we were getting ready to go down and do our Saturday morning shift.
We arrived there to find that the one and only toilet was out of order, but that two porta-ones were arriving later that day, along with two temporary showers; both of these as I understand it, were plumbed in to the mains and are now up and running. Let’s hope that helps everyone who is, basically, camping out around the police station.
Anyway, that aside, we were lucky that a holidaying doctor had given up her last morning on the island to see to any medical needs – mainly over exposure to the sun in the old and the very young. There was a case later in the day that required the island doctor and the ambulance, and there is a report of a tragic accident taking place out at sea involving ‘people smugglers’ and the coastguard, in which a young man was shot. This wasn’t, as you might think, during the night but at midday as another boat of refugees was approaching the island.
We also ran out of water and fruit to give people during the morning. If you’ve ever been involved in a stage production and watched a team of people pulling together you might know the feeling of pride you get when you see someone you don’t know very well pull something amazing out of a hat. (Not literally.) Well, I had a sense of that again on Saturday when I went out to put some rubbish at the collection point. There was a fellow Brit staggering towards me with two bags of oranges and a pack of water, which I took from her. ‘I couldn’t stand them not having any,’ she said, ‘so I went and got some.’ There are lots of instances of this sort of thing happening around here at the moment, and it makes you honoured to be a part of this particular piece of world history.
Washing was the needed event on Saturday, an appeal went out and before you could say ‘final rinse and spin’ volunteers were turning up to take away laundry and get it done, and back, in good time. We had three bags delivered which we worked through over the weekend. These were actually donation bags so there was no immediate rush. Not like the rush for clothes that happens daily down at the aid station where we had helpers from Syria translating and keeping order, as best as anyone could.
More water did arrive later in the day and more fruit, thanks to the sterling efforts and phone calls from the charity’s organisers. I didn’t have a chance to get any detailed stories from anyone but I did pick up on a couple of things. First of all, in the main, people were euphoric at being safe, and at having arrived in Europe. These are, of course the lucky ones. Apparently around 98% of the Syrian refuges are refugees in their own country and just over the border in Turkey. The European arrivals represent something like 2% of the population of the country – those numbers were on some video I saw, and may not be reliable.
The other thing that I picked up on was to do with age, and here’s where my writer’s brain slips into assumption. An elderly couple came to rest on the veranda, and to get away from the throng outside. I kept an eye on them and they sat and looked out to sea. I got the impression that they were stunned, I mean, after 60 years you’ve invested a lot in the world around you and suddenly it’s no longer there. You are no longer there, you’re miles from your homeland, wearing the last of the possessions you spent your life gathering, the rest are lost to war or the sea, and what do you have left? Your life and an uncertain future. I also saw very young children and babies who won’t remember any of this when they grow up, the ten year olds might remember some of it and an adventure in a strange land. The teenagers (one of whom looked like he was dressed for a night out, another who asked if we had any hair gel) will remember more and be more affected, those in their early twenties, as we have seen, might be more worried about how they will finish their college or university, and the parents simply have to get on with it and get their family somewhere settled.
But that’s enough for today, enough for my ‘Greece as it happens, the refugee crisis’ you might call it. There are more photos and more stories to come, maybe during the week. But I’ll leave off now as I am going to write to Sports Direct and see if they have any ‘must go’ menswear items that have not yet ‘must gone’ that they can donate. I’m not hopeful, unlike these guys:
