Unaccompanied Child Refugees

UNICEF Photo - "Migrant Boy"

Imagine yourself as a child in Syria, still living in your own town, but being separated from your parents in a situation of war. Perhaps your parents were killed, perhaps you ran away trying to find a safe place and got lost trying to find your way home because whole streets had been destroyed. At least you are in your own country, with people speaking your language. You might find neighbours or friends and at least have some remnants of your community.

Now imagine being a Syrian child refugee in a camp in Greece, or Italy or France, when there’s nobody you really know or can trust. The camp is full of people from different countries and different parts of your own country. There will be some people speaking your language but probably not from your town or village and almost certainly not from your home community.

So, which child is the more vulnerable? And the answer has to be that the unaccompanied children in European detention camps are far more vulnerable because they have NO safe community and often fall into the hands of traffickers. The individuals who offer to help them, with promises of food, clothes, and shelter, may well be unscrupulous criminals who will promise a bright future but whose intention is to sell such children into the sex trade, or as organ donors in the grisly trade of illegal transplants.

Eurotunnel is not a safe route on foot!

Britain should immediately permit the immigration of large numbers of such children by establishing a series of 21^st century “Kindertransport” trains to bring the children from the camps across Europe to safety in Britain. By not acting, we are as guilty as those who have created the problem in the first case. We have the potential to save lives, but we are looking away and we are avoiding considering what is clearly a viable and honourable option.

Maybe history will one day reveal the whole truth about 9/11 and all the subsequent events. My firm belief is that we have been hoodwinked into believing a fabric of misleading stories about extremism and terrorism when the truth is that much of the last decade has all been about oil. Many have profited by billions from this deceit, and countries like Afghanistan, Iraq and Syria have paid for these profits.

The ones who have really suffered are the children born in the 21^st century, who have lost their family and community, and are living in a highly vulnerable state across Europe. Cameron calls Britain a “Christian country,” and this is surely the time when we should demonstrate this by bringing these children to Britain and welcoming them into a loving, caring environment in our multicultural society.

Multi-cultural Britain - a Birmingham School class photo

As a nation, Britain can continue to set an example to the world on how people’s differences can create a strong and multi-faceted society. 

A patchwork is more vibrant than a solid colour. 

This is not a party-political matter, this is compassion, humanity and an ideal worth living and fighting for.

I shall be interviewed on BBC Radio Lincolnshire
on Saturday, April 30th shortly after 8am.
Listen online - http://www.bbc.co.uk/radiolincolnshire

The Global Failure of the Baby-Boomers

I came out to Greece because crowds of people were going hungry. On the island of Samos, a group of housewives led by Iokasti (Jocasta) had turned their kitchens into canteens to feed the hundreds of refugees who daily risked life and limb to cross the Eastern Aegean after the long road trip westwards from Syria, Afghanistan and Iraq.They were families: mums and dads, sons and daughters, uncles and aunts, grandparents and in-laws. The traffickers sold them imitation life-jackets; they poured an inadequate supply of fuel into the tank of the outboard motor and – at gunpoint – ordered one of the party to steer for the land on the horizon.

There were worse stories, of the inflatable being chased by a speedboat and robbed of its outboard motor mid-way into the crossing, leaving the terrified passengers – many of whom had never seen any expanse of water bigger than a pond or small lake – to paddle furiously to reach the rocky beach of Samos, or Chios, or Lesvos. 

A million souls made this journey in 2015, and thousands never survived.

Such stories brought me to Greece with a desire to do whatever I could to alleviate the suffering. Refugees were being driven off the islands and relocated in Athens. In Samos, Neezo, a Welshman Muslim from Swansea took over Iokasti’s idea and as the refugees were forced off the island, he relocated to Athens. 

A few days later, I arrived in Athens and joined Neezo and his colleagues, and immediately I knew that we were making a real contribution. We expanded the operation and bought more kitchen equipment, and by the middle of last week, we were preparing 600 meals twice daily, freshly cooked, and catering to unfamiliar tastes and palates.

Child-refugee's picture: Crossing in the hope of a better future

Elsewhere in Athens and Piraeus, volunteers were helping in other ways. In the port, girls from some of the teams monitored the showers, handing out soap and shampoo and keeping the queues moving. Others set up ad-hoc schools, and played games with the children, or gave them paper and crayons and encouraged them to create pictures of whatever they wanted. Many of the pictures were tragic representations of separation, of fear, and of suffering when they depicted war, destruction, and loss.

The volunteers filled the void created by the inactivity of national governments across Europe, and exacerbated by the pathetic, politically compromised, and totally unrealistic intervention of the European Union.

Back in Westminster, our elected representatives have voted to block the immediate admission of 3,000 unaccompanied child refugees.

 I cannot believe Cameron’s insistence that these children cannot be taken from Europe, but must be transported only from their country of origin. I have never been so ashamed of my government, so disgusted by such a whimsical condition, and so angry when I look at the forlorn faces of the families in Victoria Square in Athens or study photographs of conditions in the camps in Calais, Dunkirk and Idomeni.

Meanwhile, in Athens, the Greek government is embarrassed, and the anarchists are mobilising; the former to try and ignore what is happening and the latter to seek ways of using the situation to further their own agenda.

Loitering groups of refugees are perceived as an eyesore in a city that wants its tourists to have a glamorous impression of a World Heritage Site that is steeped in history. Athens wants to be remembered as the birthplace of modern civilisation, the historical source of so much philosophical thinking, mathematical rationale, and logical debate.

Welcome visitors

Tourists on cruise liners come in their droves in their coaches from Piraeus, to gawp and click and selfie and share; just as the refugees have come in their droves in their coaches from Piraeus. The latter, however,are not pink-faced holiday-makers in crisp new casual attire. These others are travel-weary émigrés who have been shipped unwillingly from their detention camps on the islands and left to fend for themselves in Athens.

Unwelcome visitors

Some will leave Athens, choosing to be accommodated in rural camps, where they will spend their summer – or longer – in the lonely limbo that is the tragic life of millions of refugees seeking asylum from conflicts all around the world. They may be tradespeople who long to apply their skills to build and rebuild a better society. There will be professionals, who are isolated from the opportunity to practise their expertise; and everywhere there will be children of all ages, who are segregated from the opportunity to study and learn – whether this be to read and write, or to complete a doctoral thesis.

The other element of the response of the Greek government is to try and eliminate the volunteers, like myself, whose very presence highlights both the size of the problem, and the government’s inadequate response to deal with it. Not that the rest of Europe or the EU has done much to help alleviate the situation. Iokasti’s Kitchen is now being prevented from distributing meals in many areas. 

Iokasti's Kitchen - feeding people at Victoria Square

We are being “moved along” and are trying to define our new modus operandi. One possibility is combining with another mobile-kitchen group and working together in the splendid kitchen of a disused hotel, which has been allocated for refugee accommodation, though this does not solve the problem of distributing meals elsewhere to hungry people all around Athens. Another possibility is to provide meals for detention centres that are away from the centre of Athens, but still using central Athens for food preparation and cooking.

It is frustrating. It is political. It is a human disaster.

I hate to see this happening, but there is nowhere I would rather be right now. This is history, and it needs to be observed. I want to keep telling my children and grandchildren so that they are determined to do better than the failed attempts of us “Baby Boomers.” It pains me to think back to the positive optimism and dreams that many of us espoused in the ‘60s.

Come on, millennials! Show us you can do better!

Pack up your troubles in your old kitbag . . .

This week's blog is on a lighter note - true story!

A year ago, I traded in a slightly faulty piece of luggage without any quibble with the lovely people at Karabars and acquired a large but cheap backpack. 

Great Value - http://www.karabars.co.uk/

As I wrote in my blog when I set off with this luggage to India, it was a nostalgic purchase that (almost) made me feel 50 years younger. Unlike the buckles and belts of the Army-surplus rucksack of my younger days, this bright-red 120-litre monster had zips everywhere, which gave a tidy finish, but were somewhat fiddly. They had silly little tabs that consistently pulled off and, in the end, I replace the tab on each zip with a carefully knotted, short length of cord that was decidedly more secure.

Alas, after a few weeks in India, I had to declare that my backpacking days are over. At any point where my bags needed carrying, I was surrounded by a swarm of porters, touting for my load, and then masterfully striding off with my pack on their head and my other bag swinging casually from the shoulder, taking a load off my back and a worry off my mind. 

More than once, my legs had nearly buckled under me as I tried to wriggle my way into positioning the load comfortably on my shoulders. I envisioned myself prone on the platform of the railway station, like a tortoise cruelly turned onto its back, flapping helplessly. For a few rupees invested in a porter who needed the work, my journeys around India were decidedly less stressful.

Consequently, when I decided to join the volunteers working with refugees in Athens, I realised that my backpack would be welcomed by a refugee to carry their worldly possessions towards the Eldorado of a land where they might find the opportunity to rebuild a life, a home and a future for their children. I filled my backpack with items listed as needed by refugees in Athens and donated it, fully loaded, to one of the volunteer groups for distribution.

Earlier this week, I was in Victoria Square, where refugees congregate every evening to exchange news, rumours and gossip when I saw a family waiting to cross the road. Mother had a tight grip on two young children, and Father paused to hump his luggage higher on his shoulders as they looked for a gap in the traffic. There was something familiar about the way that he hooked his thumbs under the straps just as I had done. Then, as he walked past me, I saw that the tabs on each of the zips had been replaced with a carefully knotted, short length of cord.

I would have loved to stop him, give him a hug and wish him well, but I could not think of how I could express my joyful emotions at seeing my backpack being put to good use. I just paused and watched them walk away, Mum, Dad and two young boys. My only thought was the hope that they will find the new life that they are searching for.

Every day, the group I work with is producing and distributing about 1,200 hot and nutritious meals. If you would like to contribute to our running costs, please follow the link to my fund-raising page. Every penny goes to food, equipment and items needed by refugees on their journey. The fund is titled "Samos" but we now operate across and around Athens

https://www.gofundme.com/Samos-Refugees

Who are the Volunteers?

Two new volunteers appeared at our store-room this morning: a girl from Denmark and another from Switzerland. They had been working on a project on Lesvos, and most of their group had transferred the operation to Athens where the need has been increasing.

Busy kitchen

For Iokasti’s Kitchen, feeding 1,500 people on a daily basis demands a substantial volume of prepared vegetables, and I set the two girls on carrots and potatoes while I continued with my daily task of peeling, slicing and chopping my way through a 25kg sack of onions. 

The task is self-imposed since when I had my restaurants in the 80’s I learned the trick of Onions without Tears and can quite happily plod on with my three knives (one for splitting, one for slicing and one for chopping) filling two huge plastic buckets with about 11kg each of prepared onion, ready to be incorporated in a stew, a soup, a rice dish or whatever Neezo decides to put on the menu that day.

Neezo is the driving force behind the operation, a Swansea-origin Welsh Muslim of Libyan extraction, closely supported by his two henchmen, Vlad Y Mir and Al, - a Romanian and a Turk – two gently spoken individuals who quietly get on with whatever needs to be done. Then there’s Sam (he’s English,) who learned volume catering at music festivals and a platoon of irregulars who float between a variety of projects at different locations around Athens. 

Out with the van, evening meal in Victoria Square

When they are not working in our kitchen operation, they might be tackling anything with other groups, from erecting facilities at detention centres to running English Language courses or organising creative workshops and playgroups for the hundreds of child refugees to be found around Athens.

Every one of us has paid our own fare to get to Greece, and pays our own way once we’re here, either by sharing with other volunteers or by finding a hostel or other alternative accommodation, and we usually eat the same as whatever we’re preparing for the refugees, as long as there is enough to go round.

Why do they do it?

Whenever someone new appears on site, I always ask the same question: “WHY?” – and I rarely get a straightforward answer. Nobody wants to appear sanctimonious, but the reality is that most of the volunteers I speak to are altruistic and believe they can make a practical contribution towards alleviating a tragic situation that stems from the actions of the West in its involvement in disturbances in Iraq, Afghanistan and Syria. This blog is not the place to debate the veracity of that statement, but it is the place to consider how volunteers are contributing to dealing with the damage that has been done by destruction of people’s homes and livelihoods in these countries. These events have made thousands homeless and created widows and orphans whose future is bleak and unknown.

Neezo's mum helping out with distributing meals

All of us who volunteer are dismayed by the actions (-or lack of actions) of our governments, the European Union and the United Nations.

The Pope's visit was a welcome intervention

We see no leadership from any quarter. The visit of Pope Francis was a glimmer of encouragement, but it was carefully stage-managed to minimise the opportunity for any communication between the volunteers and the Vatican visitors.

Would you consider volunteering?

When most people consider volunteering to work in a foreign country, they think about an established organisation like VSO [voluntary service overseas] Médecins Sans Frontierès, or one of the faith-based charities like Christian Aid or Samaritan’s Purse. Such organisations are efficiently structured and organised to provide a framework for the individual’s contribution to a project. However, working with refugees and migrants in Greece is a very different set-up. In fact, there is virtually no “set-up;” it’s all largely ad-hoc and random, constantly adjusting to changes in the local situation and endeavouring to keep up with the challenges that crop up from day to day.

It all starts with Facebook – which will immediately alienate all those baby-boomers for whom Facebook, blogs and eBay are hazardous mysteries suspected of disseminating dangerous viruses that might  – at a stroke – destroy your irreplaceable collection of photographs of children’s weddings and grandchildren’s birthday parties.

Facebook is the “Social Network” where the groups share news based on their own experiences, and in a world where oligarchs control the media, Facebook is often the place to follow what is really happening in the world, rather than what the mainstream media choose to tell you.

The Facebook page for our group

Volunteer projects set up their own Facebook Page, where members share their news and where other people – from around the world – add their comments and encouragement. Very occasionally there are negative remarks, but by and large Facebook fuels the energy and enthusiasm of volunteers everywhere. It is also an outlet for their anger when governments take actions that are blatantly political gestures – such as the overnight paint-job on the reception centre in Lesvos prior to the Pope’s visit. Similarly, it is a forum for the ongoing debate over the EU : Turkey deal that is currently resulting in much hardship, confusion and suffering for people who have already lost their homes and their livelihoods.

Updates from volunteer groups on Facebook will tell you what is, and is not, needed, and if you want to take things further you can easily make contact through the PM (Private Message) system. What got me going was a photograph on Facebook of someone trying to chop up onions in a catering project, and the general comments about floods of onion-invoked tears. I told them I did not cry when I peel and chop onions and asked if I could help . . . . and the rest, as they say, is my developing story.

Staying Anonymous

Once you are “on” Facebook, you can remain more or less anonymous. I helped a very supportive friend in her eighties to join Facebook with an assumed name and without revealing any personal contact details. I am her only “Facebook friend,” but that gives her access to everything I share and has enabled her to feel very much involved in what is going on and what I am doing. Without her generous financial contribution and her constant encouragement, I could not be here today.

Could you be a volunteer?

With a little bit of research, you will discover projects that could present an opportunity for you. A major part of your contribution will be a smile and a few cheerful words, the very things that are missing in a situation that is increasingly controlled by paramilitary police and the blundering interference of the European Union.

There is a real need for people who are able to commit to four weeks or more, but there is always a welcome for the tourist volunteer who takes a weekend break and brings a suitcase of specific, much-needed items or a cash donation collected by the local community in UK. Whether you come for a week or a month, you will almost certainly have to find your own accommodation, and the situation varies wherever you choose to go. I originally chose Samos because of the need for kitchen help, and the fact that there was accommodation provided for long-term volunteers. When the operation transferred to Athens, I changed my plans. I booked a cheap hotel for a few days and asked around if anyone knew of a vacant flat. I was very lucky and have a 3-month let on a tiny apartment on top of a housing block. My room opens onto a flat roof with a view across to the Acropolis on the horizon. This is surely an added bonus!

So, if you want to help, you are giving your time and you are supporting yourself both in terms of getting to Greece and in terms of somewhere to stay. The bonus of working in the soup-kitchen is that you won’t go hungry, but in any case, good food is available in simple, cheap restaurants.

On a philosophical note. . .

As far as I am concerned, there is only one true reason for being in Greece, Calais, Dunkirk or any of the refugee camps along the route: it is to be on the right side of history. I want my grandchildren to know that I decided to get involved and play my part; I want to set an example of putting beliefs and ideals into practical action, and I want them to remember that, when they are faced with the opportunity to take a stand at a moment in history.

I do not wish to sound pretentious, but I want to make some contribution to try and improve the situation of refugees in Europe. In the words of the 20th-century martyr Dietrich Bonhöffer:

• Silence in the face of evil is itself evil. God will not hold us guiltless. Not to speak, is to speak. Not to act, is to act.

If you want to contribute to supporting our operation feeding refugees, you can donate to Iokasti's Kitchen through this website (originally for Samos, now for Athens). Every penny I receive will go to food, gas or kitchen requirements.

https://www.gofundme.com/Samos-Refugees

Who are these people and why are they here?

Wherever there is a crisis, there will be rumours, - and when there are rumours, you never know which to believe and which to dismiss. When you combine inaccurate information from one side and unrealistic expectations from the other side, you create a formula for discontent that reaches all the way from mild irritation at the incompetence of bureaucracy to angry revolution in the face of brutal injustice.
It's like that all over Europe, at the moment, and especially in Greece and Italy where the relief and celebration of escape and arrival, is soon met with utter frustration at the lack of any clear way forward. Such is the lot of the refugee.

Meanwhile, British and world media are full of other rumours and misrepresentations and, worst of all, the guilt of omission, when some news never reaches the media. That's why my Facebook posts contain a lot of reports from individual volunteers, refugee support organisations and  alternative media. I hope that this gives a fuller picture. And pictures are often so much more emotive than dry text.
Despatching from the camps at Idomeni on the Greek/Bulgarian border, Médecins sans Frontières reported:

• The situation was extremely tense this morning, when tear gas, rubber bullets and stun grenades were used in the camp to disperse crowds. The MSF teams treated 300 people, among them 200 with respiratory problems after being subjected to tear gas.

Although the Bulgarian authorities claimed that rubber bullets were not used, these children in Idomeni collected both tear-gas canisters and rubber bullets after the disturbances.




While most of the reporting is highly critical of these events, I was shocked to read one commentator who insisted that use of "reasonable force" by the authorities was perfectly justifiable in the face of the invasion of their territory by an angry mob. 

And, of course, the attitude of Northern Europe is very much that their countries are being invaded by an angry mob with an alien culture that will destroy the traditional lifestyle of each and every nation across the continent. The reality is that all European nations have been through a process of migration and change, not just in the distant past, but equally in the past hundred years. A third of British babies this year will be "non-white," and while the separate races still have strong individual identities, the percentage of "mixed-race" babies is growing year on year - and I believe that our society is greatly enriched by this trend. 

So, who are the million-plus invaders who crossed the Mediterranean into mainland Europe last year, and who continue to arrive, even though there is no WELCOME mat on the door?  - and are they really refugees? 
According to the United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR), 80% of migrants arriving in Greece and Italy in the past three months are from Syria, Afghanistan and Iraq: three countries largely destroyed by wars that were instigated by America and supported by various Western nations.

The reality of Aleppo, Syria, today

I think "refugee" is an appropriate description. for anyone fleeing a scene like this, or this:-

The remains of the village of Ebla, Syria

Since January 2016, 55% of all refugees arriving are women and children. If you see more men in video news, it's mainly because the women traditionally keep in the background.

Two queues for our food distribution, women to the left, men to the right

55% of refugees are women and children

As for the group of us  -  we just keep the food coming. . . 

. . . and they keep coming for the food.

Please support the project - we now expect to be serving over 1,000 meals daily and we need to increase our funds for the ingredients that will keep us cooking. We would welcome your donations here:-

https://www.gofundme.com/kingofsamosport 

From Prize-winning Cuisine to a Soup Kitchen

1972 - First Prize in my Region, Second Prize nationally -  and £1,000 

I never was on Masterchef but I caused in storm in 1972 by winning a grand in a cookery competition in a women's magazine. The woman editor was furious that a man made it to the finals and declared (so I was reliably informed 5 years later) that no way was a man to win first prize. Inverted Sexism, and as for the money, I should have invested that £1,000, but - story of my life. 

Anyway - the Soup Kitchen in Athens is a far greater achievement for a host of reasons. 

Today Neezo, Vladimir and I went to the port to see how the situation is developing.

There were two coaches waiting to take refugees to one of the rural detention centres, with TV filmcrews and journalists on hand to record the event.

There was confusion everywhere, because the refugees are told very little and have little reason to believe what they are told. Some passengers from previous busloads have fled back with horror stories of detention centres like prison camps with a lack of basic facilities. They are told they don't have to stay if they don't like what they see, but none of them believe what they are told. Neezo was scornful of the UNHCR  representatives and dismissed them as stooges of the Greek government.

Everywhere there are families, but the film crews often miss the women who follow their cultural tradition of mostly keeping in the background, out of sight of the cameras. 

There are rows of "Portaloo" toilets but even the army of contract cleaners cannot keep down the evidence of their presence - water flowing across the tarmac and the acrid smell of urine, mingled with strong disinfectant.

Neezo explained the options to the stranded refugees

All the refugees at Gate E3 of Piraeus Port have been given the choice of being bussed away to a rural detention centre or alternatively moving to Gate E1 where they will not offend the eyes, ears and nasal sensitivities of the tourists who will soon throng the port en route to the islands. 

To be fair, this is only one reason for relocation, as the lorries come thundering through the docks, and there are chldren playing everywhere. 

It's just plain dangerous, apart from the aesthetic and cosmetic considerations.




In one area, an awning has created a children's zone, where volunteers run craft, art and creativity classes for the children.
This morning, there were beads everywhere as children played, making bracelets, and sequenced patterns with the little plastic beads that I think came from the Athens branch of IKEA.   







Many of the children were clearly engrossed intheir projects and probably burst into tears when the play-group came to an end.

The children in the playgroup are lovely kids, many of whom had a basic knowledge of some English - even at the age of well under ten.

Look at their clothes (look at the way everyone is dressed !)

These are not economic migrants fleeing poverty (thought they would have my total sympathy if they were, - but that's another topic.)

In the background of this shot you can see one of the refugees loading his worldly goods onto a trolley to push down to their next "holding area" at Gate E1.

Mother and son, hoping for the opportunity to rebuld their family life in safety

This afternoon we worked together to produce a thick vegetable stew, and this evening we took the van down to Victoria Square and served several hundred portions to men, women and children of all ages.

I had my pockets full of little party toys - plastic bracelets, paper fans, stretchy monkeys, mini Rubik cubes and - of course - lots of balloons. 

The children laughed and squealed and belied the awful conditions in which they live, down at the port.

Tomorrow I'll be tackling a sack of onions - something I learned when I had Harvey's Restaurant - as I try to get ahead with the the stock levels of prepared vegetables, so we're not always rushing at the last minute. And when I discussed tomorrow's programme, I learned the best lesson and the greatest gift of working with a bunch of mostly 20-somethings. 

"When should I turn up tomorrow? What time shall we get going?" I asked thinking I might just have time to grab a quick breakfast before I jump in the Metro to cross town.

Neezo pondered for a moment. "I think 12.30 should be fine," he said.

Ah yes. They are all still living in that twilight era of unorthodox work schedules and child-free bliss. I forgot that years ago.