My friend Edith supported the arriving boat people in Lesbos with a group of volunteers for two weeks. She wrote an experience report that gets under your skin! I am often asked whether we also have refugees in Ikaria. As I mentioned in my last post: We have no refugees, for the simple reason: Ikaria is too far from the Turkish coast.

Edith commutes between Switzerland and Ikaria. We have been friends for years and run the cultural week in Ikaria together. I greatly admire Edith for her courage and commitment. That’s why I posted her impressive report on my blog, even if it doesn’t have anything to do with Ikaria. The refugee crisis affects us all!

I could no longer stand sitting in my warm house in the safety of Switzerland and hearing and seeing the reports about refugees – so far away and yet so close. My decision to stop making excuses and act now and book a flight to the Greek island of Lesbos instead of feeling helpless and useless was like a liberation for me. I flew.

Photo: Arriving boatspeople at dawn on a beach in Lesbos

After working with my friend Brigitta for five days as a volunteer in a Swiss group in Molyvos in the north of the island, it was like a “coincidence” that Rebecca from the “I AM YOU” group was having breakfast in a hotel near Moria to meet camp. We introduced each other briefly and easily and immediately decided to help out with this group for ten days.

Photo: Hot Spot in Lesbos

We were subordinate to the Danish Refugee Council, which was responsible for part of the organization in the camp. The Moria Camp, where all refugees had to register, was housed in a former prison and was therefore full of barbed wire and iron gates…not a very welcoming atmosphere.

Photo: The Moria Camp in Lesbos, a disused prison

Now I’m back home. There is an extremely intense, beautiful, stirring, good and sad time behind me. The fates of people, the total vacuum in which they now find themselves, their suffering and pain, all these deep impressions have turned my life upside down. It will never be the same again. The intensity turned weeks into years. Returning to the luxurious Swiss everyday life is an enormous challenge and I take a lot of time to try to “digest” my impressions and give my everyday life meaning again.

There are worlds between watching films and the real situation in which I suddenly find myself. “Refugees” have faces and stories. I will never forget the eyes of these people who had to flee from terror, war and persecution.

Photo: Lesbos refugee accommodation container interior view

Together with many different volunteers from all over the world, I cared for these frightened and wet people who arrived in overloaded rubber boats in choppy seas on a black night. They were often forced by Turkish smugglers to either starve to death or to set off now, even in bad weather (bad weather discount € 1000/person, instead of € 2000). It was not uncommon for their babies to be stolen and luggage thrown into the sea. We “non-refugees” pay €5 – 10 for the same route on a safe ferry!

Photo: Edith with a rescued refugee baby

What an experience to welcome cold, wet babies, children and adults on any beach, on any island. It was not uncommon for people to think they were in Athens. There was no time to think in these confusing moments. We just had to act and help as much as we could: handing out and putting on dry socks and pants, wrapping people in emergency blankets (silver foil), giving food, toys and water, calming them down and occasionally just hugging people without saying a word, before being picked up by a UNHCR bus to take them to the camp for registration. Since the beginning of the year, 340 people have not made this daring, 10 km long journey across the sea, their hope for a better life ending in death. I am at a loss for words.

Photo: Lesbos Sorting donated clothes for the refugees

I helped clean beaches full of wreckage and life jackets, a very strenuous job. It was important because we wanted to help the residents of Lesbos make their beautiful island attractive to tourists again in the distant future. Every morning I cleaned tents and simple huts in the Moria camp and helped freezing refugees find dry clothes and blankets. For days I made the rounds with a doctor to identify people who were seriously ill. We handed out painkillers and lozenges. Coughs, headaches and sore throats were the order of the day.

Photo: Edith and her team of volunteers

Often the tears just ran down my eyes, so much misery was hard to bear! When volunteers saw my tears, they asked, “Is this your first day here?” “No,” I said, “but there are days and situations that I will never be able to get used to.” I have hardly ever seen refugees cry; they stopped crying a long time ago.

Photo: Edith and two refugee women

Could I do this myself, living without my house, without my land, my habits, my own clothes, often with very little food, no money, no toilet paper, no soap, no creams, no toothpaste, no shower? Death, war, fear and uncertainty in my backpack? Dependent on the police and other people I don’t know? And could I still be as polite, friendly, very patient and smiling as I saw most of these people? I don’t know, I don’t have an answer. I’m just impressed by so much warmth and dignity!

It’s a cold, stormy day, it’s raining heavily and constantly. The large ferries from Mytilene to Piraeus have not been running for two days because of the weather. Thousands of people get stuck in the “Dome,” a huge, old, empty covered swimming pool next to the harbor. Drenched people are lying or sitting on the cold ground everywhere. Various organizations and volunteers are distributing food, baby food and blankets, it’s a disaster. We buy brooms to clean up all the rubbish (think of the end of an open-air festival in Switzerland!) and rolls of rubbish bags. Giving them out is a hit. People are so grateful for a trash bag to sit on or cover themselves with, it’s incredible. I’m ashamed that they thank you so much for such a “trifle”.

Photo: A refugee family, the father was close to a nervous breakdown, so we took them to the hotel for 2 nights until the ship left for Athens

A desperate man shows me his soggy shoes. He’s terribly cold. I motion for him to follow me. We can’t talk: “me no Farsi, me no English.” He helps me carry cleaning supplies to the car and stays in my car to wait, as I asked him to. Luckily I find a shoe store very close to the parking lot. I get the man and we run through the downpour to the store and it’s… like Christmas. We find nice hiking boots, dry socks and a rain suit for him. The path he has ahead of him is still long and unknown, I think to myself.

This man from Afghanistan, whose name I don’t know, is sooooooooo happy! “Mom,” he says to me, “you Mom.” Without many words we go back to the “swimming pool.” I signal to him not to tell anyone about it. He understands immediately. We look at each other, knowing we will never see each other again, laugh and shake hands. And then he disappears among hundreds of people.

This help is a drop in the ocean, but so important and valuable. With the money that Swiss friends gave me, I made at least one person happy.

Volunteers are needed everywhere. I can wholeheartedly recommend volunteering to everyone. The atmosphere is international and absolutely warm, you feel like you are in a big family. A beautiful, sustaining experience, a school of life!

The links to the volunteer organizations:

• iamyou.se
• schwizerchrüz.ch
• Ceriba, Better days for Moria
• Starfish

In January 2016, my friend Edith Bühler Jud spent 5 days with a Swiss group and another 10 days with the Swedish volunteer group “I AM YOU” on the Greek island of Lesbos to support the arriving boatspeople. She wrote an experience report for “I AM YOU” in English, Diet Simon translated it into German for us. I revised it for our blog and added photos of Edith.