Final musings

The whole donations for Calais mission has changed me.

I was so unbelievably naiive before I embarked on all of this; floating around in a protective bubble, oblivious.

The catalyst for me and I'm certain for most people was the image of that tiny, lifeless body washed up on the shore in Turkey - little Aylan so innocent. So DEAD.

My bubble burst. I read and read and read every report I could feast my eyes on, watched every news bulletin to find out what had happened and to find answers to why it had happened. I searched for groups of like-minded people who I could ask for answers.

I wanted to scream at everyone I knew to wake them up to the crisis unfolding before me. I begged everyone I could for anything they had to spare, asked them to share what they had with the thousands of people running away from everything they owned and loved. Those whose lives in their own country were so unbearable that the risk of putting their entire family on a tiny rubber boat in the hope that they could get to Europe and safety was an infinitely better option than staying waiting to be blown to pieces, tortured or raped.  

I often wake up in the early hours of the morning and my instant thought these days is that I have a warm, dry, comfortable bed, a roof over my head and I'm lucky that I live in a safe country. I count my blessings that my family are sleeping soundly around me, without a care in the world. In a twist of fate it could all be so different then who would help US? Have we been a nation who deserves help? If you know your history I fear that we most certainly are not!

When I am awake in those twilight hours I pick up my phone and catch up on emails and social media, reading how people are getting on with their own lives, mundane everyday stories, pictures of their meals. I used to get really angry at these musings; how can people be so oblivious to what is happening in the world? If they are aware how can it not affect them like it does me? I'm just envious now because I can’t relate to any of that day to day humdrum; there is no pleasure in those everyday things. The weight of the world bears down on me and I feel out of my depth to help enough.

I've seen so much. I feel other people’s pain and desperation. I have given so much of myself that I sometime feel there is so little of the previous me left. I worry that I cannot give enough due to my family and work commitments – despair overwhelms me. I’m weary.

Every day on the internet, on TV, on the radio the words and images. I cannot forget them, they have bombarded me since I woke up and began to take notice of what inhumane atrocities are going on in the world.

I struggle to switch off, my mind wanders to those poor people struggling day in day out to survive in atrocious conditions  being treated like vermin by those in ‘authority’ who should know better.


I’ve tried to stay away from the news, from the awful reports flashing up on the screens but I am inexplicably drawn back to reading and listening and sharing, it feels like I am doing my follow human beings who are in such dire need an injustice by ignoring the situation. All the time the feeling of inadequacy gnaws away at my insides and my heart aches.

These inhumane conditions aren’t just pictures in the press, this situation is REAL. I’ve seen it laid bare  and up-close with my own eyes. Adult men forced to line up for handouts of the most basic of human necessities, once proud citizens of a town that probably no longer even exists anymore – raised to the ground. Nothing but memories left. I've watched children playing in areas where piles of human excrement lay covered in flies. In my lifetime I never could have imaged that I would walk through areas of such appalling conditions and have and heard such horrific stories of people journeys to reach where they are today or that I would have met young children all alone in the world, frightened and so vulnerable.


The small consolation I take from being part of a local team of volunteers in collecting donations for Calais, Syria, Hungary and Greece helps to keep me focused and our mutual support for each other enables us to continue with this worthwhile effort.

I am determined to make a difference and to show my sons that when people are in need they must help them. No 'if' or 'buts' YOU HELP, it's the right thing to do and because they are in a privileged position where they can help those less fortunate.

I want to fix the world, encourage everyone to work as a united force against all this inhumanity. We must live in harmony with our neighbours, it's irrelevant what colour, creed or religion we are. We need to  embrace our differences, we are all brothers and sisters sharing the same planet.

We must arm the next generation with the ability to stand up to governments and multi-national companies who are doing others an injustice. Teach them to raise their voices on behalf of those who have no voice and be heard.

Syria - Loading Up

After sorting the family out first thing in the morning I managed to get away for a couple of hours to the warehouse to photograph the loading up of the container going to Syria.

The WISE group were amazing and worked so hard filling the container by hand; we had no forklift at our disposal this time.

The Mayor of Wycombe came along to see first hand the aid raising efforts of the local community and others from across the UK.

After about 4 hours the container was full and it was emotional for the team as they watched the lorry drive off on its way to those in such desperate need.

It was also very, very obvious that there was almost another container full still left in the warehouse!

Urgent talks with One Nation and another container was organised, thankfully. It is coming this Sunday so another volunteer force needs to be arranged to load that container too.

 

Syria Appeal

There were an enormous amount of donations left back at the warehouse after the Calais trip and these are heading to the heart of Syria on the 24th October courtesy of the charity One Nation.

Unfortunately I was quite ill when we got back from Calais, a cold which turned into a sinus and chest infection, so I was out of action for two weeks. I felt detached from this collection, compared to Calais.

Thankfully I was able to get to the warehouse on the 22nd October after work; I was totally blown away by the amount of aid there was in there! The general public have surpassed by wildest expectations with this appeal.

The container lorry is arriving on Sunday to fill with these donations - I will be very surprised if all this stuff fits into one container, but hopefully it will as we need to vacate our warehouse by next Tuesday :(

Normal life ...?

I’ve been back almost three weeks and it's was really difficult to get back into my ‘normal’ life – bare in mind that I had only traveled  2.5 hours away from my own front door and had only been in Calais for 36 hours so this will hopefully shed some light on what impact the jungle has on people.

For  several days I walked around in a daze;  fatigue and the drop in adrenaline completely overcame me, everything irritated me and tears were never far from the surface and I became ill.

Sadly support of my views on those in the jungle is virtually non-existent at home so I have felt very alone as I've processed what the past weeks have culminated in but so proud that I achieved so much on my own and latterly as part of an awesome team of like-minded people; they are my support network.

The images my eyes have seen and, both good and bad, and stories I was told will never leave me but the overwhelming urge to be back there helping is immense; the sooner I can get back there the better. 

I would without question urge people to go, even if just to volunteer in the warehouse. You don't have to go anywhere near the camp at all if this is not your 'thing'. It's actually more beneficial to the entire camp if volunteers just concentrate on sorting donations so please consider volunteering, it's a life-changing experience.

Day 2 - Distributing

08:30am - Breakfast was non-existent, to be honest. All the pastries had gone and there was no bread left. I grabbed a coffee and managed to get a spoonful of cornflakes. I had just finished my cornflakes when a guy appeared and started to cook crepes! Bugger, I totally missed out there!!

Met down in the lobby with our bags and waited for the rest of the team - Ben appeared and Ann, then Fouzia. Gayle and Louisa were going straight to the jungle so weren't coming to the warehouse.

Got to the warehouse and joined in with a great French guy who led us through some limbering up exercises ready for a busy day ahead! It was really good fun and the weather was being very kind to us again, lots of lovely sunshine and blue sky.

On a Saturday there is usually a big influx of volunteers and also donations therefore they tend to use the more experienced volunteers to go out into the camp and distribute items.

Ann was particularly keen on being involved with the food bag distribution; she and other members of the team had taken a long time making these up and there were around 100 to hand out - that's dedication.


Ann and myself were very keen to distribute food in the camp, Ann especially as she had been the driving force behind the huge stock of individual food parcels that our volunteers had made up ready to be handed out.

We were keen to get to the warehouse in time for the delegation of 'tasks' for volunteers as we did not want to miss out on being picked for the food distribution team.



Group talk and then hands-up for allocated tasks - quite a few of us put our hands up for the food distribution, I was really glad Ann was chosen and hoped that I could take part too as I wanted to photograph the team handing out the food parcels but it wasn't too clear to begin with if there were too many of us keen to be involved in this task. Although I would have been disappointed not to have been able to go and distribute I had been very fortunate with my unplanned trip into the camp yesterday and I would happily have worked at the warehouse instead of going in again. Numbers of volunteers were counted up and, again, I was fortunate to be going back to the camp.


After a concise but important lesson on how best to conduct a distribution exercise successfully, we loaded up Ann's van with all of our food parcels, plus lots of indivdual bottles of oil which we would hand out to each person along with a food parcel. There were also other prepacked food parcels brought in by other groups so we added these to our load and headed off with one of the long-term volunteers and several of our team plus others in the back of the van to the camp.



A very experienced volunteer called Olivia (I think!) took us into the jungle - we had to visit the port again as the police still had the slip roads on lockdown but no hysterical laughing this time, we were seasoned navigators of the port!! Big shout out to Google maps sat nav, we really couldn't have found anything without it (my navigation is pants!)

Again the police had the main exit blocked so we had to go the long way around via the port (Ann's favourite place!!!), in a convoy, which was quite amusing!!

Our experienced distribution volunteer ably directed us to the back entrance of the camp and we pulled up in a clear area ready to begin.

We jumped down from the front cab and opened the back of the van to let the others out. Instantly loads of refugees began running in our direction - 'LINE, LINE, LINE' was ordered and they immediately fell silently into an expectant line, not even sure what they were queuing up for but in desperate times anything is worth lining up for in the hope it will benefit you and/or your family.

An excited buzz ran through the line as the first of the food parcels were pulled from the van and handed out - food - always a sought after commodity.  The overwhelming thing I will always remember about this part of the trip was the heartfelt gratitude from each and every one of the people - mainly men - that we handed aid to. Their nodding thanks and resounding words 'Sank-yoo, sank-yoo, sank-yoo' rang in my ears for a long time after the event, it was extremely humbling.

 

A few families came to the side of the van and waited for their food parcels - families with children tend to be excused from the line by the other refugees as do elderly and infirm and lone children.

The cheeky scamps on their bikes arrived and acknowledging thanks they hung their carrier bag food parcel on their handlebars and rode off to their 'home' in the jungle.

As I turned to hand over another parcel, out of a cloud of dust a tiny girl was running toward me. Her  long dark hair bouncing with curls and a broad smile across her pretty face - that moment plays in my mind often - she came up to me, holding out her hands for her parcel. I handed her a bag and she struggled to carry it way but was determined to, despite her father arriving to offer to help her - it was a defiant "I can do it!" moment.

As they walked away I noticed the line was now so long that you could not see the end of it.

Supplies began to dwindle and it there was a sudden realisation that hardly anyone had actually been helped by the distribution in the grand scheme of things, a drop in the ocean, it was quite depressing.

The refugees began in realise that the food parcels were running out and they surged forward a little, breaking line until a crowd was looming down on the volunteers at the back of the van - we managed to hold them back from the doors and in the van Ann found some single bags of rice and some cartons of juice, which we also handed out until they also had all gone.

After a while the refugees realised for sure that there was no more aid in the van and slowly dispersed. It was more than heartbreaking that we didn't have enough for everyone, we tried to console ourselves with the fact that we had fed some, at least, and that the very few children that we gave parcels too would eat today.

We were conscious of the time; our Eurotunnel departure was about 2pm so we all went back to the warehouse to try and make contact with the other members of the team and make one final trip into the camp to hand out individual items such as hand-cream, Vaseline, garlic, playing cards and sweets for the kids.

The wonderful children's gift boxes that Shaida and her lovely band of volunteers had made up for us to take and hand out were taken in by Refi and his friends.

As we wandered along the back road of the camp we stopped and chatted to people going by. Asking them if they would like cream for them skin and Vaseline for their hair. We gave fudge and chocolate bars to the kids and other people, all them time they were so grateful for everything we had to given them, no matter how small.

Just as we were nearing the end of our time, we remembered that we had to find a new owner for 'Floppsy' - Floppsy was a little cuddly toy rabbit that had been given to our team by a man called Ben. Ben and his team of aid collectors had come down from Yorkshire with two transit vans full of donations of tents, sleeping bags and food. Ben handed over Floppsy to Claire and explained that he was taking part in Project Paddington (more about this on another page) and the rabbit was a favourite toy of his daughter, Georgia, who would like it to be given to a refugee child.

We quickly looked around for a child to pass Floppsy on to but none were around, we walked up the road a little further and into view came a father holding the hand of a small child. We ran up to them and explained as best we could to the father that a little girl in the UK wanted to give her favourite toy to a child there and would his daughter like to take care of Floppsy? The little girl took the rabbit and hugged it tight, Floppsy had found a new loving owner - emotionally we watched as they all walked away, the little girl swinging Floppsy by one ear!