Nothing lost, everything gained
“A summer on a Greek island? Oh how wonderful, it’s so beautiful there!”
Yes, it’s beautiful. But how such a beautiful place can hold so much pain and suffering will forever remain a mystery.
Situated a mere 7 kilometers from Turkey, the beaches of the Greek island of Chios are some of the closest stretches of European soil for those crossing the Cesme strait, to what is hoped to be safety.
I have just returned after having spent the summer in Chios as a volunteer. Working first for the Chios Eastern Shore Response Team, meeting the boats as they arrived on shore, the need for a safe space that allows for creative and artistic release quickly became apparent. The sheer amount of talent that was not only hiding, but wasting away in both of the island’s camps was a devastating thought and the idea for a creative centre was born.
For those whose lives are in limbo, the Chios Creative Center (CCC) is a space to feel free. While they wait for their interviews, for appointments to be made, for their papers to processed, the CCC allows for the release of pent up frustration through art, music and dance; a place to draw, paint, sing, dance, play music, make music, listen to music; to make noise, to find a voice and to be heard. Their art hangs on the walls, their music fills the room, they teach us their dances and they feel a little bit better for a few hours in the day (playing Despacito is a guaranteed winner).
Working at the CCC, I had the best job on the island because I got to see them smile. It’s not much at the end of the day, but in a place where stories of despair run rampant, the albeit small moments of happiness count for an awful lot.
If you can’t feed a hundred people, then just feed one.
— Mother Teresa
Three weeks after leaving Chios, I now sit in the west of Scotland. Despite sitting thousands of kilometers away, I still don’t feel as though I have really left Chios yet and I constantly have the people and the place on my mind.
I’ve taken my time in putting this together, as I haven’t been sure how to best sum up my time and experience in facing the crisis head-on. Constant feelings of anger, sadness, frustration and disappointment frequently bubble up to the surface and make it difficult to pin down my thoughts. But I have just come across the following TED talk that was shared by a fellow volunteer friend and she, the speaker, Luma Mufleh, sums up the overall sentiment I have in the video below. If you have 15 minutes to spare, it’s well worth a watch (biased opinion on my part of course).
Posting this video is by no means an attack or an attempt to blame anyone, I share simply because she is able to articulate the words I still have not found.
There is a freedom and process of discovery that comes with volunteering that allows for being the best version of oneself, and not because you are helping those in need and people can give you a golden sticker for it. You gain confidence, you relax your insecurities, you develop a trust in yourself and you stop worrying about what other people think. You come into your own and become the best version of yourself because being nice to a stranger doesn’t actually require anything. Because doing good, feels good and it makes you realise what is truly important. There is no need to prove yourself, no need for a degree, for money in the bank, for being someone you think you need to be to please others. Whether it’s pouring a cup of tea, building a shelf, handing out clothes, listening to a story, sharing a joke or just saying hello, the only thing needed is a small amount of time. Nothing is lost.
But so much is gained.
Over the course of the summer, I had (and still have) one question that constantly ran through my mind: Thousands of people who represent every country of an (obviously geographically but more importantly) culturally foreign region of the world have arrived and now live in close proximity to us — why does no one want to learn from them?
Steeped in history and filled with culture, the Middle East is a region of the world in utter turmoil, created by those who wish to taint history and ruin all culture. Ruined cities and ruined relics mean we have already lost so much, but the people who have fled mean that that culture can be preserved. Those who have made the perilous journey to Europe, with whom we now live side by side, they offer us the opportunity to not only experience a new culture first hand but also to share in learning and open our minds. And most importantly, to make us realise that we have much more in common than the things that separate us. They are teachers, artists, scientists, dancers, TV presenters, fashion designers, musicians, doctors, journalists, chefs, athletes, carpenters, students; mothers, fathers, sons and daughters, grandmothers and grandfathers, cousins, sisters and brothers and every single one of them has a story to tell, a lesson to teach and a talent to share. They are just like us.
We know how we got here and we know why there is a crisis, but why do people seemingly not care and how do we make them care? David Miliband has a few ideas and I can do nothing but agree (watch until the very end to the Q&A — only one question — it is worth seeing too!).
I have seen in practice the benefits of all of Miliband’s points: work, education, money and acceptance. At the CCC, we offered 3 of the 4. It’s a simple task to ask someone to help you (work), to teach them something new (education) and to smile and share a coffee (acceptance) but a huge reward to hear that the centre is the one reason they get out of bed for in the morning. A man I got to know well over the last months had drastically taken a turn for the worse, having jumped out of the window onto the street and taken a knife to his forearm. Now having regular appointments with a local psychologist, he continues to come to the CCC where he finds comfort and security, people to speak with, creative activities to ease his mind (at least for a while) and responsibility in teaching guitar three times a week. But it’s still not enough. Like all the others, he needs a job, a routine, a way of making a living, anything that allows somewhat of a semblance of having a life again. And it starts with getting to know them.
Because why should we fear them? What is it about them that is so scary? What scares me is realising that the people where I live are actually the ones I fear and actually having far less in common with them. The ignorance, the close-mindedness, the superiority, the disregard and the nonchalance scares me. Because we are all better than that.
But how do we make people care? The occasion to meet new people is also a chance for us to be proud, of who we are and what we have. With learning comes exchange and in exchanging we become proud of our own, a reminder of all we have that is good, an emboldening, empowerment. From exchange comes sharing and from sharing comes caring. Of course, everyone is fighting their own battles and time isn’t something everyone possesses enough of, but I believe the answer lies in the simple act of showing what can happen if we do care.
I now possess skills I never thought I would have. I can fix wooden windows and make fresh bread. I can sew and I can dabke (traditional Syrian dance), just about. Admittedly, these are not skills to put on a CV that make the corporate elites happy or willing to hire me, but these are skills that I can share with others, that bring me closer to new friends, make for wonderful stories to tell old friends and give me common ground with strangers. They are skills that help me fix my home, feed my tummy, repair my clothes and make me happy. They are skills that make me human.
What the generous people who donated to making the CCC a reality have helped to support this summer is more than they can ever know. I wish all of them and each and every one of you could one day have the opportunity to meet those who use the centre, from who I have learned so much and who have so much to offer this world. The CCC remains open and continues to provide a safe haven and place of creative release from those whose futures remain uncertain. We are now also working in unison with IOM who conduct their psychological and psychiatric sessions in the CCC because they feel it is exactly the right environment for beneficial and efficient therapy.
To think that many are the same age as me makes me shudder. I could not for one moment imagine what they have already been through and what they still face. They are the strongest people I know and I hope you can all meet them one day for yourselves.
