A Ramble On My Ramblings…

Today, for the first time since I started writing this blog almost a year ago, I decided to go back to the beginning and read it start to finish. In the tradition of how it all began as sleep deprived ramblings, I thought today would be a good day to reflect. I don’t know why I’ve never gone back to the start of the story, I guess if I am completely honest a part of me was a little scared to remember. I, of course, still have all the memories of the last year in my mind, but there’s something about reading the words, feeling all the feelings I felt when I chose to record those thoughts in this blog, that scared me.

 
I have said from day one this blog was never set up for any purpose rather than an outlet for my rambling thoughts and hopefully, possibly a way to create a bit of awareness through said rambling thoughts. I have been utterly surprised and unbelievably humbled by how many people have read my words and so moved by those who have used it to help spread awareness in their own ways. I still just see it as being a bit of a disjointed collection of sleep deprived rants and streams of consciousness so I am so touched to find out that it has been used in so many productive ways by dear friends and even the odd stranger to spread the message that we are all human beings and we all deserve to be treated as such.

 
The last few weeks I have been back in Scotland doing a job which requires meeting a lot of new people and the question of what I do with my life has come up so many times. This is the longest time I’ve been back in the UK this year and I have, along with almost everyone I know, been waiting for the last year to really catch up with me. The response, “that sounds… eh… difficult,” has come up so many times over the last few weeks and although I have tried to shrug it off with smiles in an attempt not to completely kill casual light conversation – yes, they are right, it has been difficult.

 
I will be back in Greece in a week, walking back into the ever changing, ever more difficult situation there. I do now have other reasons to be in Greece than when I first arrived there, I have my own personal reasons, but at the heart of it all is still that I am in a position where I can help and I want to help those that Europe turned their backs on. We are all human beings, we all deserve basic human rights, basic human kindness and I still want to stand side by side in solidarity with those who are still being denied this even after all this time.

 
Reading back my own little personal story of my insignificant role in this entire crisis was… difficult. It’s very easy to stick everything in a box and lock it up in the back of your mind, but if you keep pushing more and more into that box eventually the lock will break. The old saying that you have to help yourself before you can help others is fundamental when finding yourself in such an overwhelming situation, and I think it’s very easy to forget that doesn’t just mean looking after yourself physically, but looking after yourself mentally.

 
This last year seen so many every day people put in positions they were completely untrained and under-prepared for. The benefit of the grass roots movements responding to the humanitarian crisis was that people were treated as people and their needs could be met on a human level without bureaucracy. The issue with grass roots movements was that the majority of those on the ground on the front line had never had any training on how to cope with the trauma that surrounded them. It didn’t matter if you spent a day, a week, a month or a year in Greece or Calais or anywhere on the route, it changed you and that affect is lasting.

 
I have been extremely lucky and have the most incredible solidarity support network and friends who know when I want to speak, when I want to cry, when I want to laugh or when I just want silence. But I worry that not everyone who stepped into this situation has this. If there are any fellow volunteers out there reading this, please know we all have difficult days, there is nothing wrong with not being OK about everything, you don’t have to always shrug it off, what has happened over the last year is so far from OK, witnessing that will undoubtedly have an affect and there is nothing wrong with asking for help when you need it. In reading back all the entries in this blog I can recognise the days when I was definitely not OK.

 
At this point last year, I was doing exactly what I’m doing today. I had just finished my August festival contract and was wrapped up in a blanket treating my exhaustion with chocolate and Netflix. But last year, I would never have just had a conversation with my boyfriend about the 1300 refugees trapped on the island of Kos as if it was just any old conversation because now, that is just my every day. At this point last year I was naive, I had no idea that I was just about to read a Daily Mail article that would make me so angry that I’d book a last minute flight to the island of Kos to see what was going on with my own eyes, to try and do anything I could to be useful to support the locals in supporting the hundreds of refugees arriving every day. Last year, I had no idea what the year ahead would hold, a year I will never forget.

 
Looking back on it all, reading all my thoughts and rambles makes it clear to me that I am very different from who I was at this point last year, but not in some kind of gap yah cliche of an OMG life changing experience. I’m still me, I’m just a me that see’s the world in a different light.

 
I still can’t believe that what is happening in Greece is still happening. On a global scale I can’t believe all the horrors are still continuing.

 
We are still very much living in a time of crisis, but it is not a Refugee Crisis. It is a crisis of humanity.

 
Nothing gets better, it all just keeps getting worse but the only thing we can do is be better.

 

 

I hope next year I can read back on words documenting a change for the better and that I can shed a few more tears of happiness than sadness, in a world where we have stopped hating and started helping. I can only hope…

 
Thank you to everyone who has ever read any of my ramblings. I can’t describe how much your support and love means and I’ll endeavour to keep documenting my nonsensical thoughts for as long as I can. Thank you.

International Volunteer Day

Volunteers are not paid, not because they are worthless, but because they are priceless.

 

My very first “grown up” job was as a Volunteer Coordinator. Volunteering has always been a large part of my life for many reasons. The old classic of “giving something back,” obviously an important one, but I have over the years volunteered for many a different reason. When I began working in the sector I discovered there are endless reasons why people get out of bed for no money. Volunteering can give you that experience to get that job you’ve always dreamed of. Volunteering can be that first step back into the world after your world has been turned upside down. Volunteering can connect you to a community, to a network, to friendships, to yourself.

A volunteer always has a story, there is always so much more than the task they undertake. There is nothing of greater value in life than time, to give your time is to give a part of yourself. Some people may stand on the rooftops and shout about the good work they do whilst, for others, you may never know someone is spending the precious currency of their time on inspirational good deeds but never speaks a word of it.

Without volunteers our communities, our towns, our cities, our world would be a much darker place. Volunteers are often the light in the darkest moments, the smiles amongst the sadness, the hand reaching out or the cushion when you when fall. Volunteers are not paid in money but are wealthy in much greater assets.

Last year Scotland hosted the Commonwealth Games. I was lucky to be selected as a Volunteer Opening Ceremony Cast Member. I met a girl, a dancer, as I sat in rehearsals one day. She hadn’t danced for many years, a dream she had dedicated her life to had been shattered by mental health issues. She had recovered and found a new career, stability, but she was still missing that last jigsaw piece of her life – passion. Her friend had suggested she audition to volunteer, she didn’t believe for a second she would make it through the first round but went along anyway, that step being a milestone in her journey. She fought through her personal demons that day and through nerves and panic, she danced. A few weeks later I stood in the centre of the arena, thousands of people cheering and cameras streaming to millions worldwide and I saw the girl with a smile that said more than any words ever could. In her eyes I saw the glimmer of a dream come true. I saw volunteering change someone’s life, I saw a volunteer who had been changed for life.

Volunteering is so much more than just giving to others.

In Kos I saw a humanitarian crisis. I saw grief. I saw death. I saw inequality I could barely comprehend. But in Kos I also saw the power of volunteering in its purest form. I saw selflessness. I saw unconditional love. I saw an international movement of solidarity.

An American girl with boundless enthusiasm visits the children in the morning and begins each day creating laughter and an abundance of smiles. A German goes to the supermarket and collects breakfast for distribution paid for by donations. A Spanish mum on holiday leaves her children with her husband and joins in the lunchtime food distribution. An Austrian gathers round some guys from the tents and everyone, together, starts a rubbish pick up on the beach. In the warehouse a Swiss team sort shoes into sizes as group from Ireland prepare sandwiches with a soundtrack of multiple European accents buzzing around all running on the caffeine hit of Greek coffee. Norwegians hand out toys and blow bubbles to welcome children as they arrive from the boats as French girls rummage through bags of kids clothing to find something dry for them to wear. A Swedish girl dives into the water to save a man from drowning and drags him to the beach. A group from Oxford wrap warm blankets around a group of freezing arrivals. A Syrian joins the nightshift to translate and brings chocolate biscuits as a much needed sugar rush for the exhausted volunteers. A Finish girl spots flares from a sinking boat and the Greek coastguard is alerted. And then another day begins with another breakfast distribution, this time with an Iranian, some Dutch and some Germans. In the background of this cycle, 24/7, a group of incredible Greeks dedicate their lives, around their work and families, to keep everything running day in and day out.

 

I don’t think I can name or even imagine a situation any more international!

 

So today, as its international volunteer day I think we all should thank our lucky stars for the every minute a person volunteers, whether it be at home or abroad. It doesn’t matter how small or how big an action is, that action makes a difference. The international volunteering community working tirelessly all over Europe right now is truly astounding and beyond inspirational.

Everywhere in this world that seems to get darker every day, there are everyday people making a difference. In Syria volunteers provide food and aid whilst risking their lives to help those caught in the crossfire. In Jordan, in Lebanon, volunteers do what they can in overcrowded, underfunded camps. From Australia to Zambia, Zimbabwe to Alaska there are ordinary people doing extraordinary things.

You do not have to look far to find an inspirational volunteer story. The guy that sits beside me at work decided to start a collection with some friends to provide backpacks filled with winter supplies for the rough sleeping homeless in Edinburgh and Glasgow and ended up with four cars full of supplies to be distributed last week. I found out recently also that a good friend of mine collects the unsold sandwiches at their work and saves them from the bin every night to distribute to anyone who needs them on their walk home from work every night – they’ve done it for years and never breathed a word of it.

Volunteers are unsung heroes. Without them, where would we be? I dread to think.

If you are a volunteer, never underestimate how valuable you are. It doesn’t matter how big or small your contribution or what the cause you choose to give your time to – the fact that you are doing it makes the world a better place. Don’t compare what you give to what others give, everyone is in a different circumstance and always remember that even if you can change one thing for the better, make one person smile, that is what is important. That is what is invaluable. That is what inspirational.

Happy International Volunteers Day!

 

Home

Coming home from Kos has been a very surreal experience. Of course, every experience in life will change you but when you step back into your everyday life it’s important to do that… to go back to normality. You get up in the morning, you go to work, you have dinner with family, you go for drinks with friends, you do what you always do and you get on with things. But as you go about these normal things you know something is different. You are maybe home in body but your head is still filled with what is happening in Europe. You are home, but a part of you has been left behind.

 

You wake up in the morning, grab a coffee and head to work. Someone starts talking about economic migrants… You take a deep breath and think about the soaking wet babies you met most nights of the last month, those that survived the terribly dangerous journey over the Aegean on a dinghy, who you gave some warm clothes to and shelter and would hope their future would be brighter than the destruction they had escaped. You think of the last sight you saw on that beach, standing with many of the guys from the tents looking out sea. Watching a boat. Watching the people swimming from the boat. Watching the boat. Watching the people disappear. Watching the boat. Looking for the boat. No boat. No people. Lost in the water. Economic migrants… I despair.

You go out for food and find yourself in a buffet restaurant. You look around at all the people filling their plates with far more food than they will ever eat, stuffing what they possibly can into their faces, then awaiting the waitress to dispose of their left overs into the nearest bin. You see this and you think of the guys down on the beach, the desperation on their faces when the sandwiches began to run low and there was a chance they would not get anything to eat. You see this but you have to remind yourself to stop comparing, comparing will drive you crazy. Life is different, it is all kinds of unfair, but it is the western way.

You go to a local Refugee Welcome meeting to discover your county have generously agreed to welcome 13, yes 13, Syrians this year. No, not 13 families, 13 individual people. You think about those times you easily had 130 people standing around you at any one time in the middle of the night, wet and scared and hungry as they took their first steps in Europe. Thirteen people… Thirteen people…

You start to meet a lot of new people in your usually sleepy town. People begin to become interested in your story, many with great intentions who want to support and raise awareness. Others who remind you of the not so lovely journalists you spent the last month being followed around by and shouted at by and manipulated by.  It’s not easy to trust people after experiences like having dinner with someone only to discover they had a dictaphone in their hand recording every word without your consent. The “Young woman from small Scottish town goes to help the helpless” story that you have passionately fought against and avoided with every part of your being begins to rear it’s ugly head again. You went to support refugees on a level, as fellow human beings, not as some white saviour looking for their fifteen minutes of fame. When you realise that some people only want that story from you it is very disheartening when you are trying to raise the real story of an unbelievable humanitarian crisis taking place on our doorsteps.

You make plans with friends and you look forward to seeing them again but dread the question you know they will ask as soon as you see them, “So how was Kos then?” This is then followed either by an excited smile as if they are waiting for the latest gossip from a girls holiday; or a look of utter fear and trepidation as if you are about to burst into tears and describe hell on earth in great detail to the point they will never sleep again. It’s hard to find the words when faced with this question when you still haven’t processed a time you never thought you would experience in your life. You decide the best response is…”It was interesting”… then try to change the subject. To those you do share your story with, those nearest and dearest, then watch them cry while you sit dry eyed, having cried all your tears dry, you begin to feel a sense of guilt for causing them such upset.

You watch your friends who would like to volunteer but have commitments at home rally around and put on the most incredible fundraising events. You watch your hometown community come together to support refugees. You see the love and solidarity in a time when your government is trying desperately to scare and divide communities. Your faith in humanity is restored again and all of the people who have spouted vile racial hatred and strangers who sent fascist messages disappear from your mind because they do not matter. This is what matters.

You have your life, your home, your family, your friends. People go out of their way to show their support and surprise you on a daily basis with their generosity. But in a selfish way, that little voice in your head never stops whispering that you shouldn’t be here, that you should be somewhere else, doing something.

You realise that while you were preparing a speech for a community meeting about volunteering that nine people, mostly children, were drowning in the Aegean, to be found by volunteers you love and care about still in Kos. You realise that whilst you were getting ready for an event that those same volunteers were helping families identify the bodies of their children who had drowned. You realise that as you hang decorations and lights that a father who lost every member of his family in the water is volunteering at a local kitchen serving food to fellow refugees. You realise when you are watching pointless day time tv a little 9 year old boy is burying his whole family in a graveyard in a country he has no connection to. You know these things because although your body may be home, your mind is still there.

You speak to the volunteers in Kos and on one hand you wish you could be there to help and on the other you can’t imagine how you could possibly help in such circumstances.

You keep in touch with friends you made who arrived on boats in Kos and hear the terrible stories of their journeys to their destination and the many ways Europe is letting them all down. You see the things the news does not report from other volunteers, like the thousands now trapped on the Greek borders since Macedonia changed their border policy. You see the pictures of those stranded at the border who in desperation have sewn their lips together in hunger strike or those who have painted “shoot me now because I cannot go home,” in a desperate attempt for someone to listen and help them.

 

I went to Kos to support a humanitarian crisis. To be human. We are all people. We can empathise but not sympathise. We are all the same. I wasn’t there not to stand above but to stand side by side. I hope I did some good, I hope when I return in January I will do some good.

My only wish right now is that we continue to stand together, to not let the media and politics make us believe that we should be scared of refugees. The world is a scary enough place right now without any more division. Please remember that terrorists who carry out abhorrent atrocities such as that in Paris are exactly the people that refugees are fleeing from.

Love has no borders.

Over and out.

 

 

 

 

An open letter to anyone out there who cares…

My name is Mhairi, I am 25 years old and from a small Scottish town called Glenrothes.

In September I decided I could no longer sit around watching the refugee crisis unfold in Europe without doing anything. I decided to contact organisations on the ground to offer my help and within a day I had a plane ticket to Kos to volunteer my time with a local organisation Kos Solidarity. I planned to stay for a week… I stayed for one month.

Kos is a small Greek island on the Aegean Sea, 6 KM from Bodrum on the Turkish coast. It is an idyllic little island with a population of around 35,000, less than that of my hometown. An island which survives on tourism but has been plunged not only into the economic crisis of Greece but also now into the centre of a humanitarian crisis. The pure chance of geography sealing its fate as a gateway to Europe for those fleeing war and persecution.

For someone like myself, a holder of a British Passport, the journey from Bodrum to Kos would cost me around 12 Euros for a forty minute sunny day ferry trip. Safe, cheap, secure. For a refugee travelling from Bodrum to Kos, the cost for a place on a blow up dinghy or broken down boat can cost anything from 900 to 3000 Euros. Smugglers only operate through the night and the trip can take anything from 2 to 12 hours. That is if the boat makes it to the shore. The Aegean Sea used to be tourist dream, glistening and pure. It is now the graveyard of the desperate with over 50 lives taken in just the last five days, mostly children. Overall it is estimated 3000 lives have been lost in those waters this summer.

Those who do arrive on Kos or any of the other Greek islands dotted around the Aegean celebrate that they have made it to Europe. But that celebration will not last long. Who meets them upon the shores of Fortress Europe? Those big aid agencies that have been outspoken and have asked for millions to be donated to this cause? Well you’d think… But no. It’s everyday people upon those beaches. Local Greek people, international volunteers. Ordinary people like you and me. Unskilled, unpaid volunteers filling a huge gap left by those you’d expect to be doing something. Governments, aid agencies? Where are they?
In the month I spent on Kos I never met anyone from the Red Cross. I met representatives from Save The Children once. MSF (Doctors Without Borders) only available to work office hours 9 – 5. The only people I saw every day and all through the night were volunteers, doing what they could in a situation that was way above them.

Now the winter is coming smugglers offer cut prices for the night boats due to the deteriorating weather and there is a rush now of people coming before it gets too dangerous. It is too dangerous now but desperation is not rational.

Islands such as Lesvos, Leros, Kalymnos and Samos cannot cope. 125,000 have arrived on the island of Lesvos in October alone. It is not only the sea taking lives now. People are dying in the make shift camps. As temperatures drop and numbers in the camps grow, resources run out. When there are no blankets, when there is no shelter, when the biting winter winds blow while rain floods, sometimes up to knee height… Death is soon to follow.

Voluntary organisations are doing their best to provide what shelter they can, warmth and food but there is never enough to go around. Individuals are funding this, some aid agencies may be providing some relief on some islands but I know for a fact that on Kos every meal is paid for and distributed by volunteers. This is not a cheap task and with the numbers of people travelling to Europe rising again, it gets harder by the day to feed everyone. This crisis began in May, there has been no support since May, the money is running out, the kind hearted Greeks who have tried to give what they can are exhausted and running out of resources, the international volunteers cannot sustain themselves long term, the situation gets more desperate with each day that passes. As everything runs out, tensions grow.

Those on ground struggle to do super human tasks, giving every part of themselves. They do not have time to think about the child that washed up on the shore whilst they were on the night shift. The little girl sleeping out on the street with her father after her mother and brothers drowned the night before. To think about when they called the coastguard about a sinking boat then watched the boat disappear into the dark waters along with those who were trying to swim to safety, as the coastguard was too late. To feel the impact of a message from a friend on a nearby island begging for more body bags as they have too many dead and have used up their supply already. These are my personal experiences but the stories of others who I have met and from those now on other overcrowded islands, the horrors are simply beyond comprehension.

The British Navy cancelled their rescue mission before I arrived in Greece. This is unacceptable. I cannot comprehend the rationale behind this decision. Greece cannot cope with what is happening. Britain cannot stand by in ignorance. I am ashamed that my passport lists my nationality as British. There is nothing Great about Britain right now.

Will you stand up? Will you do something? We are in the midst of a genocide whether you choose to acknowledge this or not. People are dying from the Aegean through to every border point in Europe. People like me cannot solve this problem, we can put little plasters on the wounds but we cannot change the situation. Those who can are choosing not to. They are facilitating needless death and trauma. Governments must face their responsibility and act!

When the harrowing pictures of Aylan Kurdi’s tiny lifeless body spread through the worldwide media, there was an outcry. For a moment, people took action. But then as the story faded so did the cry for change. The world mourned for this child, but who is mourning for the hundreds of nameless children who never survived those waters? Who is crying for the mothers, the fathers, the sisters, the brothers who will die in the bitter cold, chaotic, unsupported, overcrowded border camps this winter?
The media will report the violence, will continue to paint “migrants” as the enemy but the reality could not be further removed from this. During my time in Kos, people arrived on the beaches as refugees and left as friends. Those seeking asylum are people, they deserve to be treated as such. If you were treated like an animal would you stand for it?

Please, I beg you to not turn your back on those who are desperately in need. Please do whatever you can. Whether it be donate to an organisation on the ground, by this I mean someone who is actually on the ground, not a large organisation claiming to be. Or better yet go there yourself and see what is really happening. Make a statement to those who can make a difference, take this to the highest level of political influence that you can. Write, post, tweet… If all else fails scream from the rooftops until you are heard.

We are living in one of the darkest moments of modern history. In the future when I look back I want to know in myself I did everything I could in my little existence to ease the suffering. I hope you will join me in this.

What is happening in our world cannot go on. What is happening in Europe cannot go on. We are all people, let’s stop believing some of us are more important than others just because of where we are born.

If you expect to be treated as a human being, please make sure you extend that respect to everyone.

Thank you for taking the time to read this.

This Is Not Goodbye… It’s See You Later…

Once you’ve had your eyes opened to the sad realities of this world on a human level it is hard to close them and turn your back. I have been here on Kos for a month now, every day connecting with people who have welcomed me into their lives, who have shared a part of themselves with me, who have trusted me at their most vulnerable. I have smiled with them, I have cried with them, I have held their hands, I have been embraced by them.  I came here with no expectations, I had no idea what I was walking into, I had no idea how long I could stay.

Booking a one way ticket was not originally because I wanted to stay longer but because I didn’t know if I’d get here and it would be too much and I’d be able to leave when I needed to leave. I originally planned around ten days and here we are a month later and the thought of leaving makes my heart so heavy.

Sadly, as a volunteer it is impossible to sustain myself here indefinitely with no income, there has to be a point I return back to my own life.

To go back to Scotland right now, to see my family, to see my friends and to slip back into my routine will of course be lovely but I know what I leave behind.

I know that when I am safely tucked up in bed that people will still be risking their lives in tiny boats trying to reach Kos. I know that those who make it here will arrive wet and scared. The winter is here now, we have had storms and flooding for days. I know that those living out in tents will face another night of thunder and lightening and torrential rain while I am cosied up with my central heating in my wee Scottish town. I know this, but I cannot do anything to change this. We do what we can do, right now I want to do so much but my reality is that I have to return to my life, regardless of the unfairness.

The life I left behind seems a million miles away from here. The life I have been living here is something I can’t leave behind.

I will go home, I will take my memories, both good and bad. I will be forever grateful to the people I met here, the incredible group of volunteers, my adopted Greek family that have looked after me in the most incredible way and to those who arrived as refugees and left as friends.

I haven’t updated my blog much recently, I’ve been doing many things and haven’t made the time but when I go home I intend to reflect on more of what I experienced here.

What is happening in our world cannot go on. What is happening in Europe cannot go on. We are all people, let’s stop believing some of us are more important than others just because of where we are born.

There’s an old wives saying my mum has said to me since I can remember – “Treat others as you mean to be treated.” If you expect to be treated as a human being, please make sure you extend that respect to everyone.

I will say goodbye to Kos for now, but I will be back, I will be back as soon as I can be.