Refugee Camps on Chios

For those who don't know me, I am an American living in Istanbul and I have just returned from my second trip to Chios as a volunteer with the Chios Eastern Shore Response Team (CESRT). The island of Chios, after Lesvos, received the bulk of the boats coming from Turkey since June 2015, desperately overloaded with men, women, children, babies from Syria, Afghanistan, Iraq, Kurdistan, Iran, and sometimes Pakistan. In January, when I first volunteered with CESRT, we were the front line of rescue, helping to land boats in the frozen darkness, providing the soaking, near-hypothermic people (who had risked everything to make the dangerous crossing and find peace in Europe) with dry clothes, first aid, and some comfort. It was all very dramatic, and traumatic as it was, we all (volunteers and refugees alike) still felt hopeful that, despite the rising tide of Islamophobia and racism in Europe, a new life was possible. Now, after March 20 (the Turkish-EU deal date), all that has changed. Very few boats arrive, due to the threat of immediate deportation back to Turkey and to the intensified policing of the waters by the Turkish and Greek Coast Guards, Frontex, and NATO. Now, it is all about the camps, where 2000 people are living in shocking squalor, trapped by the Turkish-EU dirty deal in a limbo of misery and hopelessness, many for two months or more. After so much trauma and so much sacrifice, many say they no longer care what happens to them, since they have been reduced to something less than human, ghosts with no home. CESRT, a locally run group of independent volunteers, has been at the helm of projects to provide--especially for children--means for them to remember that they are witnessed and loved, that they have not been forgotten. CESRT has daily activities for children interred at the largest camp, Vial (which is a 'closed camp,' more like a prison), with art projects, clown shows, bouquet-making for Mothers' Day; we give milk and cakes/fruit every afternoon at the two other camps (Souda and Depethe), arrange activities for teenagers, distribute clothing and supplies (tents, blankets, medicines, strollers, wheelchairs), and are beginning to provide activities for adults, like knitting and crochet, fishing outings, sports, first aid tutorials, and a photography project (these are just the initial projects). We know these diversions will not keep them safe from eventual deportation to detention camps in Turkey, but we also know that, at least for the hour and the day, they make a real difference--the children hug us and tell us they love us, their parents thank us every day, and their humanity, in spite of everything, remains a bright spot on a dark screen. One deeply human thing missing from their lives, among so many fundamental needs, is spiritual tradition, ritual focus, and a space/time for religious communion. To help fill this gap, I am asking for donations to buy 800 prayer mats and 800 sets of prayer beads in Turkey to be sent immediately to Chios, where such items are unavailable. I will purchase everything from one wholesaler in the market district of Eminönü in Istanbul and send directly to the CESRT warehouse on Chios, where the team on the ground will determine the means of distribution. If any funds are left over, I will provide (hopefully in bulk) whatever is cheaper in Turkey as requested by CESRT. We have been doing everything in our power to provide for the basic needs of survival in these horrid camps (alongside major NGOs), and to establish personal contact with people who once knew lives of relative peace and security--teachers and bakers and massage therapists and mothers. But there is no spiritual center in these camps, metaphorically and architecturally--the one mosque in town, a vesige from the Ottoman era, is now a Byzantine museum. A place and time of peace, hope, and, above all, dignity in the midst of devastation is just as vital as food and water. So I ask you to give what you can, to act as a just witness to this tragedy that will shape so much to come, and as a force of compassion, hope, and resistance to the violence of war and racism. Thank you for your help, and know that it will make a difference in the real lives of real people! That is a promise.