Refuge in Europe: So, Julia, what exactly are you doing in Athens?

So far - and this is day seven - I’ve worked six shifts at the Orange House and had one day off when I visited the island of Aegina.

This is me at the Temple of Aphaea on the island of Aegina.

The Orange House is a small residential shelter and community center for refugees. Twenty people live here, all women and children under 18. They’re from Syria, Afghanistan, Cameroon and Sierra Leone. They live on the upper two floors of the house and come down into the community center area for language classes, to go in and out and, in the case of the children, to play and hang out with volunteers. The children are not at present enrolled in Greek schools: that’s being worked on.

Volunteer Mohammed opening the door.

Many other people come in and out all day, so volunteers are ever alert for the doorbell – or people banging on the door if the bell isn’t working – because we need to keep an eye on who’s coming in. Two volunteers are scheduled 10 am to 4pm and two are scheduled 4pm to 10pm, but there are often others present too, sometimes for particular reasons and sometimes for no reason. There’s an overnight shift, too, very quiet, 10pm to 2am, which I haven’t done yet.

Every day is different: people arrive in waves, especially just before classes: I open the door to beautifully serious teenage Syrian girls carrying their German notebooks; to elderly gentlemen coming for English conversation; to shy young men hoping someone will be present who understands their language, to families with babies and young children, and to various representatives of different organizations working with Zaatar, the organization that runs the Orange House. We’re meant to inquire politely of visitors what their business is but sometimes it’s a guessing game, especially when you’re new and can’t tell a refugee from a volunteer from a teacher! After all, it’s not emblazoned on their foreheads! And the situation is complicated because there are several volunteers who are refugees themselves.

Me with team from another organization: Goodwill Caravan.
They arrived like Santa Claus at 9pm with sacks
full of fresh fruit and vegetables.
They were mostly British.

The door is kept locked; people entering are monitored; I will not tell you the address of the Orange House, nor of the volunteer apartment where I’m staying, nor will I post any identifiable photographs of refugees. Why? Because there are people in Athens, as there are everywhere, who dislike and even target refugees and those who work with them.

But, then, there are also plenty of people who accept and help. Athens is full of refugees, but I’m sure we were still noticeable as we walked through the streets to the Acropolis Museum today. We’d been offered free tickets, so a motley bunch of volunteers and refugees took a half-hour walk to the magnificent modern building that houses thousands of items from the Acropolis and offers a spectacular view of Athens.

Our group of 16 ranged in age from Sahar who is eight, to me, the oldest. It included people from Syria, Afghanistan; Guinea, Mauritania, Spain, Germany, New Zealand and USA/UK (that’s me). We had a blast! Everyone seemed to enjoy it, and there was a lot of laughter. Knowing that these are people who’ve suffered dislocation and trauma made their enjoyment poignant to me.

Chess at the Orange House

Over the past 20+ years, I’ve experienced several different nodes on the refugee continuum: I’ve been part of an aid delivery team to refugee camps in Croatia in 1995 and ’96; I’ve worked with refugees settled in Vermont; last summer I volunteered at the extraordinary Jungle camp in Calais where thousands of migrants and refugees gathered with the express purpose of stowing away on lorries to England, and now at the Orange House I’m seeing the day-to-day life of people stuck in the limbo that is Greece, a country where refugees are marooned, hoping and planning their next step, waiting patiently or impatiently for documents, passports, papers and visas, suffering rejection or rejoicing in acceptance of asylum applications.

So what am I doing here? Spending hours deeply focused on conversations with English learners; playing card games, doing puzzles or cutting and pasting paper and card creations with the children; trying to take the youngsters out to the park as often as possible; welcoming visitors and directing them to classes; just trying to communicate, to help people relax.

Saturday evening I’m scheduled to lead a Circle Dance. I have no idea how many people will turn up, or how it will be received, but I’m preparing what I hope will be an appropriate program and I’ll trust the outcome to luck and good will. There seems to be quite a lot of that about.

Some photos of the Orange House follow: