I’m Glad I’m Here

Someone asked me last week, “How is your volunteer trip going?”

I’ve been quiet. Not because I have nothing to say, trust me–there’s a lot that’s been happening, but more so because there hasn’t been as much time to sit and write. Or I’m simply too exhausted to. Or more often than not, there’s so much to say and share, I struggle with where to start.

It’s going. Up and down. It’s tough but rewarding. Definitely exhausting both mentally and physically. I’m a bag full of feelings. I’m constantly going between gratitude and guilt and confusion and joy and sadness–constantly. Tears are a constant here. They may not be shared but they happen: tears of joy, tears of frustration, tears of exhaustion, tears from being overwhelmed, tears from the cold. There are so many thoughts and emotions about everything from the actual work to organizations/NGOs to people–it’s chaos at it’s finest. I’m glad I’m here, though I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about going home. How fortunate am I to even have that option?

The babies are the best and worst. Best in the sense that they’re really cute and universal–I can’t resist playing with them! Worst because sometimes it’s harder to get them to smile…and I haven’t seen a single pudgy baby yet. Many of them have trouble eating (maybe from the journey?) or they don’t have steady access to food. Every time I see a baby I think of all of the amazing babies I have in my life and my heart breaks a little more. But then they smile at you and grab your finger and you think maybe, just maybe, things will end up being okay.

There are good things as well. There are the unexpected hugs and kisses you get. There’s that look of understanding bridges any language gaps. There are the moments where you just connect and laugh, and for a split-second you forget why we’re here and just enjoy the company. Some days it’s overwhelming and you think how am I even making a difference? But then you see the smiles on people’s faces and their sincere gratitude and while I might not be changing the world, I’ve made a difference–we’ve made a difference, to this one person and for the time being, that will have to do.

Finding the Silver Lining at the Ferry Building

Saturday night. I was sitting at a bar with a fellow volunteer and new friend, Maria, having a glass of wine when we got word that hundreds of refugees were stranded outside at the port because ferries had been cancelled or rescheduled for the next morning. There was an abandoned building next to the port that they were camped out in as they waited out a pretty strong wind storm. They needed some help and supplies like blankets and food brought down, so we called a friend with a car and hitched a ride to the ferry building.

You can’t tell from the photo, but that pool was deep.

I don’t think anything prepared us for what we walked into. Based on the remaining structure, the circular building was an old aquatic center. There were shallow pools on the ground level with stairs that led to a second floor from four different access points. The second floor had the deepest pool I had ever seen in the center with stadium style seats on the two longer sides. People had camped out along the edges, in the stands, on the ground–anywhere they could fit themselves, trying to stay away from the windows. The wind was so strong that the biggest concern was that the old windows surround the upper part of the entire building would break and fall on people below. The other, almost equally, big concern was that someone (specifically a small child) would fall into the 30ft plus empty pool and seriously hurt themself.

It was a disheartening and chaotic scene to be part of. Many of the refugees had been told that the ferries weren’t leaving that evening, yet they were insistent on going down and waiting by the dock, even with bad weather. I get it. You’ve made it this far. You’ve been on the go for days, weeks, sometimes even months. You’ve spent days walking without food, hid out in the bushes waiting for the day you’ll be able to cross, drained your savings to be able to travel with your family and you survived crossing the sea in a dinghy with a driver who has never operated a boat before. You waited in line to get registered. You slept in a tent in the cold, with two other families, huddled together for warmth and sharing stories of the good times to pass the time and keep your spirits up. You bought your ferry tickets to get to Athens. You’re so close—there’s no way you’re going to risk missing that boat, so you decide to stay at the port and wait, and wait, and wait.

We tried to lend a hand however we could but the other volunteers on site seemed to have it under control. So we left with the intention to return the next day when we would have a better idea of how we could help.

That used to be a path. It became a lake.

Taking Time for Myself

I woke up today not knowing what day it was. It’s Tuesday. The last scheduled day I worked was Friday. So what happened between then and now? Your guess is as good as mine–time has flown!

First off, there have been more volunteers arriving, which means more people to hang out with, which means less time for writing and sleeping, but I’m trying to figure it out. No complaints–there are some really cool and interesting people here who I genuinely have enjoyed getting to know. After a long day of doing various things, grabbing a bite or a drink together is a great way to unwind, decompress, share experiences and get to know each other.

Finally walked around my neighborhood–this is the church with the bells that wake me up daily.

“Doing nothing is one of the most tiring jobs in the world because you can never stop and take a break.” That’s one of my sister’s favorite quotes and it fits the mood. Since I don’t have a set schedule these past few days, I’ve been doing pretty much everything and nothing at the same time. Saturday was my first day off since I got here so I took it as one. I’ll admit, my emotions were all over the place as I was processing the past week and my current mood and my thoughts about the future. There were a few things happening in the background as well that were occupying mental space that I wasn’t expecting, nor wanting, to dedicate but such is life. Ultimately, it meant that nothing really came of my thinking and I was left with the chaos to sift through. I also realized how important it is to find a way to decompress and express yourself.

Before I even made the decision to come here, I read through a lot of posts and information of what to expect, how to prepare, and advice. One of the more surprising things I read about, that I was glad to see addressed, was the topic of self-care. You see a lot. You feel a lot. It’s just…a lot. And it’s important to take care of yourself physically and emotionally. Whatever you need to do, whether it’s taking a break or talking to someone or distracting yourself, do it. If you don’t take care of yourself, you’re not able to take care of others and nothing good comes from that. And this doesn’t just apply to volunteering somewhere like I am, but in life, in general. 

Change, Coincidence and Focus

Blogging is tough for me to do. It’s something I want to do more often and on a regular basis but it requires time and thought and effort and energy that sometimes, much of the time, I just can’t, and sometimes won’t, muster up. I have tons of half-written blog posts floating around in my head that I just didn’t make the time to sit down and write out. I honestly hope to get back to those half-baked mental blog posts and write them down at some point–one day, someday. When I write, it’s for a number of reasons. It’s to share my experiences so those of you who say you live vicariously through me get to come along on an adventure with me. It’s to document what’s happening so when my memory fades, I have something I can go back to and vividly recollect the memories. It’s to share what I’ve learned or am learning and to hear back from you so we can collectively grow as a community. It’s therapeutic for me sometimes as it serves as a space where I can write down my thoughts and try to put them in some sort of order. I wish I could express to you what it means to me knowing that you, yes you, are reading my posts. It seriously blows me away every single time that someone tells me about a post that I wrote and their reaction to it, whether it’s a debate or connects to a different experience or helped them in some way or just gave them something to do. Every. Single. Time. Thank you ❤ 

Big shoutout to Jamie and her sixth graders for making my day!

I’ve officially been on Lesvos for one week now. I’m making an effort to blog or post on Facebook or share a photo on Instagram, almost daily, during my current trip, often time falling asleep with my phone in my hand, a sentence half-written. There’s so much that happens every day that the only thing I can do after getting home from a shift is sleep. A key takeaway that I’ve picked up from volunteering in a crisis zone is that things change, constantly. The number of refugees coming in changes daily, usually contingent on the weather. The phone numbers you call to contact people changes along with the person who you need to contact. Procedures are being created on the fly and policy is changing almost daily. Being flexible and adapting is key. Every day truly is different.