A slightly different post to normal today...
“As one person I cannot change the world, but I can change
the world of one person”. That quote by Paul Shane Spear seems a good place to start.
Below is a (slightly long!) account of my recent trip to the refugee camp at Grand Synthe, Dunkirk. If you want just the highlights, skip
to the summary at the end!
The refugee crisis is crazy. I can't even begin to
comprehend how it is going to be resolved but I do know that when there are
families and young people living in fields of mud with no/minimal basic
amenities (12 loos between 2500 people and no electricity) less than 50 miles
from the UK something has gone terribly wrong.
I am not an activist. I am not political. I may (very
occasionally!) have strong views on some subjects but they are rarely
controversial ones. I'd heard bits about the Calais
camp and had obviously seen the heart-wrenching photographs of refugees trying
to get from Turkey to Greece and
donated money to various charities but had never thought there was anything I
personally could do to help. I know I'm a doctor but I've never done
humanitarian work abroad, I've never worked in a third world country (one of
the criteria MSF want you to fulfil) and I haven't treated an adult patient in
about 10 years! But after I saw another doctor post on Facebook about going to
work in the Calais
medical caravans I realised that I could be useful and so a plan began to
form...
Although initially I planned to work in the medical caravans
mentioned above (if you want to do so look up “Refugee Support First Aid &
Care Team” on Facebook) in the intervening 2 months I did lots of research
(mainly via Facebook groups) and realised my skills would probably be much more
use in Dunkirk, where there are more women, children and families (although
still outnumbered by men). I think a critical skill when volunteering is being
flexible and so when in mid-January MSF established a 7 day service in Dunkirk, we were not
deterred and happily shifted our focus from first aid to basic humanitarian
aid.
Back in December I messaged most of my medical friends on
FB. There was lots of potential interest but only one girl committed and so
last week we set off in a borrowed van with 3 of her non-medic friends.
Meanwhile we'd been busy collecting clothes donations - the response was
amazing (apart from the bag of soiled underwear my friend was given and the bag
of socks full of holes someone left for me!) but you have to be pretty ruthless
with what you take - some people view it as an excuse to get rid of all of
their old clothes, however impractical (yes there have been old wedding dresses
and skimpy bikinis sent to the warehouse in Calais!), whilst others are amazing
and buy rolls of new socks and gloves. Once we had everything packed (top tip - pack all clothes in vacuum bags and then you can fit 2-3x more in your
car!) it was time to go...
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| At a service station and on our way... |
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| One of the warehouses in Calais |
There are several Facebook groups where you can link up with
others who have been to Dunkirk before and they contain a massive amount of
information - definitely invaluable for trying to prepare yourself before you
get there (if that's possible). Based on these we had a good idea of the
"most wanted items" in camp:
-
tracksuit bottoms
-
trainers
-
torches
-
sleeping bags
-
OTC remedies for coughs and sore throats
-
gloves, socks and hats
-
food (especially rice, chickpeas, tomatoes, oil,
tinned fruit, fresh fruit, tuna)
And had also picked up a few handy hints:
-
take your hospital ID (much easier to wave that
to the Police than having to fish around for your passport when on camp)
-
line all the footwells of your car with newspaper
to reduce the spread of mud everywhere
-
have a supply of dustbin liners (I put one on
each boot at the end of the day and took my boots off whilst inside the bag –
that way no mud on my hands!!)
-
don't drink too much as the loos (as well as
being few and far between) are not nice inside the camp
-
park in the Decathlon carpark and walk in
from there
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| This is why you need newspaper and dustbin liners... |
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| Our first glimpse of the camp |
And so we arrived on Thursday morning at Grand
Synthe. We knew a little of what to expect but nothing prepares you for the
vast scale of rows and rows of tents and mud as far as you can see. After a
cursory glance at our IDs from the police lining the gate we were in, and
standing at the start of a long mud-covered "road" that stretched
into the distance. There were lots of people milling around but they mostly
left us to ourselves. We started walking towards the women's distribution tent
(where we were planning on leaving the 72 loo rolls), past the 2 wash stations
(yes, they only have 2 wash stations for 2500 residents!), past the small row
of about 12 portaloos and past the large bus which distributes food at
lunchtime. Someone then started saying what sounded like "clinis" to
us. After a brief time we realised that meant loo roll and once we opened the
pack we were inundated with people and the 72 rolls were gone before we walked
the remaining 50 metres to the tent! We walked back to the car to restock and
that's when we had our BIGGEST stroke of luck. We (literally) bumped into 3
other volunteers in the car park, one of whom I'd contacted through Facebook
the week before and so recognised. They had been in camp the day before and
were a massive mine of information. We then joined forces with them for the
rest of the day.
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| Not nearly enough loos... |
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| Just off the "Main street" - contrast it with the below picture |
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| Further back in the camp - the differences are obvious |
The camp is mainly Iraqi Kurds with some from Syria and Iran. It is different from Calais as pretty much all
are either from active conflict zones, have been discriminated against in their
own country or were targets of political violence (data from MSF 2016). These
are *not* economic migrants as some people like to say. There is a large
problem with traffickers and gangs in the camp controlling which refugees are
allowed access to which bits of the camp and we soon learnt that the most vulnerable/in
need (including lots of the families) were the ones on the peripheries of the
camp, who did not dare come to the central main street to collect food or visit
the tent distributing clothes. The only real way to make sure those
ones are reached is to go tent-to-tent and asking what they need. In fact the
people that crowded you on the main street shouting for things were likely the
ones who did not need it nearly as much.
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| The ones living here are the really desperate and vulnerable |
My first impression (from the "Main Street") had been a sea of
tents and a fair bit of mud. But once we stepped off the Main Street and started walking towards
the back of the camp it was increasingly desperate - tents with massive holes
in, piles of rubbish everywhere, mud so deep it completely covered my feet and
so sticky that it threatened to pull my boots off with each step. Mattresses
and clothes were strewn in the mud to act as a "path" and try to make
it slightly easier to walk through. Pushchairs caked in mud with their
wheels completely buried. Piles of plastic being burnt as there was no other
fuel for them to use to stay warm.
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| My feet not even visible in the mud... |
However, in amongst all this were these amazingly resilient
people. People who smiled and said thank you even when the only thing you had
left to give them was a tube of savlon. People who offered you tea or some of
their lunch they'd just cooked when you knew they didn't have any more food.
People who would only take one of what you offered and would refuse any extra,
saying give it to someone else. People who invited you into their tents, in
amongst their only possessions even though you were covered in mud. People who,
despite everything that life has thrown at them, still have this unbelievable
optimism and hope for the future.
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| How are they still smiling? I have no idea but they have my utmost respect |
Think of a young 20-something boy you know. I have a brother
of this age. Now imagine him having to beg passersby for a pair of trousers to
wear, for a pair of shoes that fit him, for something (anything) to eat. Think
a 17 year old you know and imagine him all alone, with no family, in a tent in
the middle of squalid conditions. Would he know how to cook? Would he be able
to survive? And lastly think of a toddler you know. I have 2 at home. Imagine
them either playing in sewage-containing mud or kept as a prisoner in a flimsy
tent, without all their toys and books, nowhere for babies to learn to crawl or
walk, no areas to run around in, no hope of a nutritious diet. What about their
education? Without that what hope for their future? And imagine how their
parents feel? How would you feel?
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| 1 year old... how long is he going to have to live like this? |
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| 10 months old... where can he learn to walk? |
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| Sewage and mud mixing into a place you wouldn't wish anyone to live |
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| What do 8 year old boys do here? No school, no playing, they collect firewood for their family. |
So what did we do in our 2 days? We stuffed as much aid into
our big rucksacks as we could (yep my shoulders are feeling it now!) and
carried it through the camp to the most vulnerable areas. There we went
tent-to-tent and spoke to the people living there to see what they needed. If
they needed anything we had we gladly gave it to them, if they asked us for
anything we could buy at the large sports shop down the road then we went and
bought it on our next trip to restock in the carpark, if they asked us from
something we could not get (sadly gas bottles were in very short supply at all local shops) we had to say sorry and hoped that someone else
would come to visit them soon bringing it.
Once our rucksacks were empty we walked back to our van in the carpark, restocked and came back. We could only work during daylight hours and made 3 round trips on the first day and 3 on the second. On the second day we also did a humungous supermarket shop first thing in the morning and made 100 food bags (each containing a bag of rice, tin of tuna, tin of tomatoes, jar of spices, tin of chickpeas, tin of red kidney beans, packet of biscuits, fresh apple/orange, tinned fruit, a handful of tea bags and wrapped sugar cubes) which we also took tent-to-tent.
We didn’t stop to eat or drink ourselves as there were so many people to see and so little time. The welcome we got was incredible and the tea one man served us was probably the best I have ever tasted. One volunteer who joined us on the second day questioned why we didn’t just do a distribution line in the main street (reasons why not explained above), as that would take about a quarter of the time and would have been much easier for us. But she soon changed her tune when she saw the faces of the families at the back of the camp when we hand-delivered aid that they would otherwise have not received.
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| Going tent-to-tent |
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| A forgotten welly |
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| Imagine living in that half open shelter :( |
Once our rucksacks were empty we walked back to our van in the carpark, restocked and came back. We could only work during daylight hours and made 3 round trips on the first day and 3 on the second. On the second day we also did a humungous supermarket shop first thing in the morning and made 100 food bags (each containing a bag of rice, tin of tuna, tin of tomatoes, jar of spices, tin of chickpeas, tin of red kidney beans, packet of biscuits, fresh apple/orange, tinned fruit, a handful of tea bags and wrapped sugar cubes) which we also took tent-to-tent.
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| Some of the 100 food parcels |
We didn’t stop to eat or drink ourselves as there were so many people to see and so little time. The welcome we got was incredible and the tea one man served us was probably the best I have ever tasted. One volunteer who joined us on the second day questioned why we didn’t just do a distribution line in the main street (reasons why not explained above), as that would take about a quarter of the time and would have been much easier for us. But she soon changed her tune when she saw the faces of the families at the back of the camp when we hand-delivered aid that they would otherwise have not received.
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| Pathway to nowhere |
All of the trip was pretty emotional but there were a few
particularly poignant moments. One of the men in the photo above proudly showed
me some holiday photos taken in December 2014 - a smiling happy regular family
going about their normal regular family lives. My friend saw a child wearing
the same snowsuit her daughter used to wear. A young man aged about 18 asked if
we had any food - the only thing we had left was 2 digestive biscuits. He was
so grateful for them and practically inhaled them. He didn't look like he's
eaten in days. And seeing the excitement and gratitude on the faces of a
group of men when I gave them each a £1 torch from Poundland with a packet of
spare batteries. £2 – the cost of a coffee or muffin from our hospital coffee
shop – meant the world to them.
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| No one should have to live here |
There was a really powerful advert that went viral a year or so ago - the basic message being just because it isn't happening here, doesn't mean it isn't happening. Just by a fortune of birth was I lucky enough to be visiting the camp delivering aid, rather than being in the camp myself.
******
Summary of our trip:
We spent 2 full days in the Grand Synthe camp.
We delivered a van full of clothes to Care4Calais warehouse
including 50 sleeping bags, 20 wind-up torches, 40 foil blankets and a lot of
hats/gloves/scarves.
We raised over £1500 before our trip (we are SO grateful to everyone who donated money) which we used to buy
all the supplies we handed out as well as the food parcels. The remainder has
been spent on gas bottles (which are used for cooking and heating) that an aid charity
is distributing for us as we didn't have enough time to do everything in only
48 hours!
We completely self-funded the trip as I strongly believe all
money raised should go directly to the refugees rather than paying for our travel
and hostel.
By going tent-to-tent we hand-delivered 100 bags of food, over 30 torches,
approximately 40 tracksuit bottoms, 15 pairs of leggings, at least 50 pairs of
socks, 20 pairs of gloves, 100 lighters, 10 boxes of firelighters, 20 packets
of baby wipes, 5 camping stoves, 15 bottles of gas, 40 bottles of cough syrup,
too many strepsils to count, 30 tubes of deep heat, a collection of baby
clothes and even a bottle of hair serum for one young girl who said she
wanted hair like one of the other volunteers (with sleek shiny hair) and not
like my friend (who had slightly dry frizzy hair - sorry Emma!!).
As well as the tips mentioned above, we've got a few of our
own now:
-
leave your lunch in the car or you will end
up giving it away to someone who looks hungry in camp
-
take a spare pair of trainers to change into
before you get into the car (especially if you are the driver!) – you cannot
imagine the mud unless you have been there
-
don't underestimate how much everyone wants a
torch and gas, you could never have too many of either
-
wear waterproof trousers on top of tracksuit
bottoms, then at the end of the day you can just peel off the outer layer and
you are clean underneath. Your trousers will get covered in mud
-
keep a packet of wet wipes in the car for when
you accidentally put your hand on your mud-covered boot (it will happen at some
point) as don’t forget the mud is not just mud, it is mud and sewage...
******
So will we go back? If the camp stays like this then yes
definitely. There is a slight uncertainty at the moment as talk about the
building of a new camp is everywhere, and I would absolutely love the new camp
to be so much better that volunteers like myself are not needed. But I remain
slightly dubious and so we have a March date pencilled in, when we know more
about what is happening...
Has the experience affected me? Yes. Without a doubt. At the time, when we were out there, I think it didn't sink in properly. Maybe a result of my medical brain being efficient at compartmentalising situations for me to deal with later? But now I am home, going back to "normal" day-to-day activities, getting ready for work, commuting on the tube, I can't stop thinking about it all. The faces, the mud, the awful living conditions. I feel so guilty that we didn't do more. Why didn't we walk faster, hand things out quicker and have more time to buy new supplies? Why didn't I just give all my remaining euros to people when our food parcels had run out? Why didn't we stay out for longer? Well at least that one I can answer - I have two little people of my own at home and they were missing me!
So yes, I can't change the world but I can try to make it a
little bit nicer for a few people, if only for a day.
******
If you are interested in helping (either from the UK or over
there) I would definitely recommend joining some of the Facebook groups as the
exact needs can change and there are a lot of people on the ground out there
who can give good advice. Don’t feel you have to physically go there to help
either, just fundraising and linking up with the right charities/people is very
helpful.
The most wanted items are:
Gas (there is a particular size and type of bottle)
Torches and batteries
Food
Sleeping bags (the ones that go down to minus 20)
Small/ medium tracksuit bottoms (preferably in dark colours)
Socks and gloves
To be honest if I had enough money I would make
"packs" - a backpack for them to keep containing a pair of tracksuit
bottoms, a torch, batteries, gloves, 2 pairs of socks, 2 gas bottles, a packet
of biscuits and a warm sleeping bag.
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| Not even rats survive in the camp... |
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| ... so how it is an appropriate place for these children to live? |
