Smoothing the Way...

​​After months of research, last week I finally made the decision to go to Greece and see if I could be of some assistance in the humanitarian refugee crisis that is unfolding on the shores of the Greek Islands. I'd been thinking about it and then talking myself out of it since, well September. But when trying to decide on my next move, and the universe oh-so-helpfully putting a wrench of every minor sort in the process of interviewing for a 'real' job in the UK (i.e. overqualified, HR withdrawing the call for applicants, hiring internally at the last minute etc.), I kept being drawn back, called somehow, to the idea that I needed to go and help in some way. And to bear witness to what was really happening there, the media being what it is. Having applied to the HSA on Lesvos and not hearing back for several weeks meant time was passing, so I booked to go to Chios (pronounced Heeos) because I had some FB contacts who needed help to feed and care for the refugees in the camps. I try not buy into the cynical opinions of the world-weary, nor to think about the politics, the governments, the exploitation of suffering and other less-than noble elements involved because it just pisses me off and hurts to think about it. I boil it down to the fact that already traumatised people are dying, are wet, hungry, cold and what one pair of hands can accomplish.

Scary decision made... some truly amazing things started to happen to smooth the way! While researching, trying desperately to find some hi-vis vests sorely needed by one of the volunteer groups on the island at wholesale prices, A4 apparel came through in spades and donated them, along with the shipping costs to my house!

Then my lovely, generous friend Liz bought a whole bunch of sweeties for the kids and donated money to buy more when on the island, so as to support the local economy. That made me cry – I felt humbled by her thoughtfulness and generosity.

Next, on my way from the Airport in Athens to the city centre, I did not ‘validate’ my metro ticket for which, unbeknownst to me, there was a fine equivalent to 60 times the cost of the original ticket, which was 10 euros. Yikes! While I discussed with a friendly Brit who was on my flight and on the same train, what to do to avoid a 600 euro fine if caught, a couple of Greek ladies must have overheard because they gave me their validated ticket on exiting the train! Not only that but the friendly young woman sitting across from me, told me to save my own unvalidated ticket which was good for 6 months, so I could return to the airport by metro on it and save a further 10 euro. How wonderfully helpful is that? She even offered to carry my case and take me directly to the platform to catch my connector, which I declined, but thought it very sweet. Perhaps I look older than I thought! :)

When I arrived at the Centrotel to stay in Athens overnight as I’d missed the (9 hour) 9 pm ferry to Chios, the concierge spontaneously decided he’d upgrade my room from a standard single, to a posh double with a balcony and a jetted tub in the bathroom – oh luxury, I love you. And the next morning waived the fee for my breakfast. SO kind!

It was late and I was famished so I went to Victoria square near the Omonia district to grab a bite. When I was done, I became aware that there were a LOT of people milling around and settling down for the night on the ground in the square. I had a hand-waving, disjointed conversation with the waitress as her English, French or Spanish was a little rough and my Greek non-existent. Despite the language barrier, she explained to me that these were the refugees from the islands who could not leave Athens because the borders were closed and had to sleep rough because there was nowhere for them to go. I immediately ordered more food and took it over there. I met a beautiful family, mama Olga from the Ukraine, her husband from Albania and two daughters Ariana and the youngest Stella Juliette, who every night after working all day cook up a big batch of hot soup, with bread donated from a local bakery and salad they made at home, and take it down there to feed the refugees.

It was freezing that night, and what I saw there both broke my heart (3 - 6 month old babies wrapped in towels sleeping in the dirt), and restored my faith in humanity at the same time when I saw the Greek people helping every way they could. My impression of all the Greeks I have met here is that they are solid people, with huge hearts who will give anyone the shirt off their backs. Especially the vulnerable. They don’t ask nor care about nationality, religion, gender, status – they just help wherever they can. They see humanity in need and act accordingly. It’s humbling to witness their generosity of spirit. Respect.