Thursday – May 19

The day started at the hotel.  Seems obvious but some days will start at the camp if we have the 12-8 shift.  The usual blue skies and sea, breeze, and scrubby hills with the occasional olive tree or oleander bush.  Breakfast and then some house keeping chores.  I wash out my own clothes and then peg them out on a line outside my little patio. With the breeze and the sun, things dry quickly. Then I roughed it by the pool for a little while before grabbing some lunch and getting ready to leave. Kim and his wife, Jenny, went with Rachel and me on this first time. It was very nice to have them and their expertise with us.  It’s about an hour drive to the camp and, starting tomorrow, I will be driving it.  I’m not at all concerned about the driving part but just don’t want to get lost!  So I will be a happier camper after a couple of trips.  It is an island after all so there aren’t too many places to go wrong.

We had the 4-12 shift today.  After parking the car, we walked up to the camp.  It is on a hillside, with a fairly steep road running through the middle of it.  The camp is surrounded by three wire fences, topped with coils of razor wire.  It really seems like a prison.  The police and army are present.  We walked through the gate and wound our way up to the EuroRelief info tent where we checked in.  First impressions – clumps of young men hanging about, talking, laughing, smoking cigarettes, but with nothing really to do.  There are the mothers with little ones and many children running all around, eager to touch you and get hugs or to ask for balloons.  Small dome tents are everywhere, right up next to each other.  Then there are the larger buildings, single story, most with canvas sides, small windows and a roof.  There is little privacy or room.

Many of the complexities arise here from frustration at the long waits, lines for everything, crowded conditions, and the many clashing nationalities and sects here together.  There are at least 15 different nationalities – Syrians are the largest group but even within that population, there are Kurds or Christians and others who do not always see eye to eye.  Add in Iragis, Iranians, Pakistanis, Bangladeshis, a couple of African countries and it makes for a volatile mix at times.  Then add in the hot days and the cold nights.  However, with all that said, we volunteers in our road crew yellow vests are warmly welcomed, greeted, and cheered.  Given that many of the people thought they would only be here for a few days and now it is at least 2 months, they are incredibly resilient and friendly.  I would probably be pouting in my tent but I didn’t see any of that.   There are the usual smells and garbage but they really are at a minimum.

After checking in, some of us headed to the clothing tent. Once there, we sorted sizes and types of clothes into various labeled boxes.  From these then, orders are taken for shoes and clothing and given out to the folks.  As there was very little ventilation, the tent was stiflingly hot and sweat was soon pouring down.  However, no room for complaints at all!  The area in front of the tent is blocked off by a locked gate, manned by an Iragi refugee named Adel.  He is big and safe and lovely and speaks English quite well.  Any jobs that refugees can be given is so important.  Boredom and feelings of helplessness and uselessness are rampant.  Many of these folks were professional people before fleeing for their lives.  Now they want nothing more than to be given a chance to work and settle down again – get their children back in school and have lives again.

After working a couple of hours, we took a blessed break outside and then had our supper, packed by the hotel staff for us.  What luxury as the refugees have to stand in long lines for their food distribution – one line for women and children and one for men.  Some food is delivered to family areas and to vulnerable people.

interacting with folks is the best part.  Kim took us around and introduced us to a few people.  Our first visit was with Omar, the unofficial mayor of Little Syria.  He has carved out a little space for a seating area and even a small garden!  He is growing some vegetables and a few flowers.  There was a white begonia plant, just like one back home in my garden!  His story is probably not too typical but is indicative of the struggles these people have faced.  He was a petroleum engineer, working between Nigeria and Iran.  On his last visit in Iran, two ISIS men knocked on his door and “invited” him to return to Syria to help them produce oil, a big money maker for them.  He politely asked to gather his belongings and instead grabbed his passport and a few documents and went out the back door!  He made his way to Turkey and now sits in this camp and grows vegetables!  He sees this as a chapter of his life and likes having a connection to the earth, even here.  Amazing!

We also visited a family compound and greeted an older woman (probably younger than me) in a wheelchair and the traditional black clothing.  I got to play with a beautiful little 2 year old girl, Malek.  We tugged each other’s earrings and messed up our hair and made faces.  She gave sweet hugs and her mother offered to give her to me!  A sweet time.  More talking and listening – every one knows exactly how many days he has been here.

The evening continued in interacting and putting together some clothing bundles.  After night falls, the clothing tent is very dark.  There is no electricity to it – just a few battery lights.  It also got colder so on went the layers over the dried up sweat.  As the evening wore on, we just mainly were there as a presence and to protect the clothing.  The other volunteers, from all over, sat and around and chatted.  Such contrasts in stories but all with a heart to be here. Most of them are young people, many with YWAM teams.  I was definitely the old lady!

At midnight, the next team came and we drove the hour back.  I fell into bed – disgusting body not withstanding!

A few final thoughts – I am just on the cusp of what is happening and will learn and experience so much more.  I want to be a good student and servant – in the mundane and the significant.  We are being watched.  Although we cannot overtly share our faith, we certainly can answer questions and engage in meaningful conversations.  God is at work here.