This, I am certain, would have been the case with the beginning of my work on Lesvos, as a new communication intern for A Drop in the Ocean. I had been so absorbed in getting to grips with both the work itself, and the gravity of its context, that I had not allowed myself a moment to consider; what exactly are my first impressions?
As some of you may be familiar, in English, we have a phrase; a rose, a bud, a thorn. It’s an exercise my friends and I use often when we’re catching up and, as is not too hard to work out, the purpose is to recognise and evaluate ‘positives, potential and pain points’.
Reflecting the optimism and forward-thinking manner that is so necessary in this work, I thought it would be a good way to structure and articulate my thoughts.
Those who stay up to date with the situation at Mavrovouni refugee camp on Lesvos will be aware that it can be described as relatively calm at the moment, if only in comparison to previous years. There have not been a huge number of new arrivals during August, and this follows the trend of the past few summers. Still, 2024 is witnessing a considerably higher number of arrivals to Greece in total, compared to 2023. An increase of 68% in the period to end of August.
A rose
Walking around the camp during my first few days, and in agreement with the musings of my colleagues who have been working here for much longer, it is true; the camp feels quiet. As such, Drop’s projects here are currently operating at ‘low capacity’. Compared to the pace of my first week, it is hard to imagine days where we may struggle to reach the end of our to-do lists before the day is through.
However, it is here that, upon consideration, I found my first rose.
In my reflections, I have found myself thinking about the interdependent relationship between the observation of need and the maintenance of motivation that occurs in work of all kinds, not least humanitarian aid. That is, when the need is visible and great, it is not difficult to locate a sense of purpose and motivation within ourselves to do our best to aid in meeting those needs. Ever-aware of the privilege of my position on the island, I have struggled to put aside the notion that, if I am not expending the maximum possible energy, then my presence on the camp is less warranted.
However, I need only to look to my fellow volunteers and coordinators for a lesson in unwavering motivation. Although the maximum number of bags of laundry collected and washed is currently around 15 per day, compared to an immense 90 during ‘full capacity’, I see my fellow Drops’ dedication to each and every individual they help, not least those more vulnerable members of the population. If anything, I see them fostering an even greater commitment to providing a service which meets their personal need – of clean clothes and dignity – and is at the same time a part of the greater effort to reduce preventable skin diseases. This has demonstrated that the work we are doing is absolutely and doubtlessly worth it as, without this meticulous and consistent response to health issues that inevitably arise in temporary camps like Mavrovouni, health and hygiene conditions would be significantly more dire.
A bud
Nonetheless, we bring to each day an awareness that this can – and indeed is expected to – change rapidly. September, along with thankfully cooler temperatures, is known to bring with it an increase in the number of arrivals to the island. However, in the context of Drop’s work, it is here that I find a bud of hope.
While it may be easy to allow this knowledge to lead to an atmosphere of apprehension, I have witnessed the very opposite. Rather, I see a team who are constantly preparing and striving for improvement and progress; a sentiment which is summarised by this message, found on a wall at the laundry station.
And it is a message that rings true as I observe and learn the routine of Drop’s working day. Each day we prepare to function at the highest capacity, regardless of what one may imagine the previous day can tell us about the next.
Not only this, but my arrival on the island has coincided with a moment of particularly exciting growth for Drop’s work here in the camp, something that followers of our Instagram will already be in the know about; our manual washing machine project.
While one might imagine that maintaining the current projects for a relatively smaller number of people might cause momentum to slow, instead I see everyone at Drop using this time to seek continuous improvement. From what we can see so far, the machines are set to mark a successful expansion of our operations in the WASH sector, as they are available for everyone in the camp to use.
A thorn
Lastly; a thorn. Returning to the theme of invasive thoughts, I must address a somewhat unexpected struggle I have experienced since beginning my work here. A large part of my personal motivation to volunteer with Drop stemmed from the political environment that I have, for now, left behind in my home country of the UK.
While it is by no means alone, it can be said that the UK has borne witness to the emergence of some particularly terrifying episodes of hatred in recent weeks. Looking back to the time of my decision to apply to Drop, I recall imagining that going to Lesvos would be – of course on a very personal level – therapeutic. At a loss as to how to respond to the rhetoric that I saw and heard widely and frequently, I decided that this would, in a very small way, offset the damaging narratives surrounding displaced persons.
However, what I did not anticipate was the way these hateful words still spinning in my head would take on a different weight as I develop a more personal relationship to the crisis; that knowing the faces and stories of those towards whom such notions are directed would make them become even more abhorrent. Working alongside community volunteers – without whom, it must be stressed, Drop’s work in the camp would not be possible – has taught me many lessons, but has also been difficult. I am learning a lot about the places they have fled, but also about the impact an absence of empathy has already had on those who are systemically denied it.
When I hear snippets of conversations idealising the ‘better life’ places like the UK are hoped to be home to, my worries grow further. While Europe is undoubtedly a safe haven compared to the situations people are forced to flee, knowing somewhat the reality of the atmosphere that awaits them makes me feel ashamed and apprehensive.
Nonetheless, if seeking for an exemplar of resilience to follow, I am in the right place. With the help of my newfound community here, I am determined to translate this emotion into motivation, which will undoubtedly be needed as my work here continues.
The task of putting my thoughts on paper, I have found, has already taught me a lot. While I am certain my outlook will develop in many ways over the next few months, I hope my newcomer perspective has given some insight for those who, like myself, have been interested in the work of NGOs like Drop on Lesvos, and the people who make it possible.