Letters from Samos — Day 7

Today a couple of the volunteers had tried to take a day off but just twenty minutes into their excursion they stumbled upon a group of thirty or so Iraqis that had arrived at about 3am and been walking for twelve hours. They were exhausted, hungry and scared.

There was no transport for them as it was Sunday so we grabbed a few tents and gave them a lift up the hill to the detention centre, on advice from a man at the port. They weren’t allowed in and so I found them a spot, erected a couple of tents and they were almost immediately asleep. When I returned to pick up the others it turned out the advice was wrong and they needed to first register at the port, collecting a number before being allowed to get into the detention centre. I was told they would have to walk down when they had figured that out. I ignored suggestions to leave them and returned to pick up the one who spoke most English. I brought him back down and found someone to explain that he wasn’t going to Athens that day and what the correct procedure was.

A 40ft container of aid had arrived from the wonderful Lifeline charity in Manchester with tons of well packed and well needed supplies. The problem was the warehouse to store the new gear is up a mountain road so small and winding, complete with precipitous drops, that the lorry was unable to deliver so we set about unloading into vans and delivering it ourselves. The teamwork was beautiful. I work so much on my own these days, I do miss the feeling of working hard for each other that happens in these situations. It took more than six hours of really physical work to get the truck unloaded. Everyone worked so hard but all the time smiling and joking and the sense of achievement and smell of armpits was palpable.

The boat leaving tonight was another emotional challenge. As the volunteers organised the boarding passengers many of the departing refugees would come and hug me or high five and exchange messages of gratitude, saying ‘good luck’ and ‘I love you’. I can’t tell you how happy that makes me. It is a truly beautiful thing and I struggle to ride that wave of positive emotion without breaking down in floods of tears. I stayed on the port as the ferry sailed away and gathered myself, my mind tired and empty. I thought about getting a beer and what tomorrow would bring.

Previous day: https:[email protected]/letters-from-samos-day-6-9167e9593dc5#.1r58ubpc8

Next day: https:[email protected]/letters-from-samos-day-8-7699752430cb#.5x9q16ns7

This piece is part of a series of letters one impossible user sent daily to his wife while he was volunteering on Samos, Greece. He has shared them with us as an insight into what is happening there and how much help is needed.
We’ll be posting one letter each day for the next 4 days. Follow us.